A literary monument ... the end of the End.

Even if what I'm going to make will look, I refuse to use the word "critical" because only daring to criticize such innataquable monument would be unnecessary and unthinkable.

I cried. I know it is often said that in the face of movies, books, songs that we moved a little bit; but here, it is not a free charge, far from it. I shed tears six, three times ... Imagine: it was the end of the adventure, precious moments that I thought I never have to live. The ultimate unpublished pages of the ultimate and unprecedented volume of Baudelaire. Magic.

It is a conclusion of impeccable perfection. Handler could not do better, and to do otherwise would have been unacceptable. For this purpose is so ingrained, impregnated, true to the spirit, the original essence of this series from the first lines of t.1, it was unthinkable that this will end up differently; I will never understand the disappointed on this point.

Rather than serving us a flat and expected end revealing all mysteries, Handler decided to keep control of his work to the end, and maintain the momentum of T.12 offering us an End of unparalleled depth , intense. He simply depicts life. Point. Life, with what she cruel, tragic and unjust, but the life to which our heroes cling desperately. The philosophical reflection accents this book instills a large dose of melancholy that leaves a bitter taste both, but spicy in the mouth, like a forbidden fruit served by a snake.

Handler has simply performed a miracle; He wrote there, it's truly ink unaltered life is a living, breathing miracle. This is absurd, as the stupidity of men portrayed so admirably, but it is so true! We did experience a slice of life in the company of Baudelaire, and given the circumstances, it was better than nothing. That's how: life ballote us, the world transforms us, we abyss, we just try to deal with it, regardless of the ports where the existence ferocious waves lead us, even if it means sacrificing a lot and give the answers as we would have wanted. It's beautiful and poignant Thank you Mr. Handler.

And thank you for this chapter XIII, a phenomenal and magisterial power, real crescendo, climax, a painful Forgive myself literary orgasm; I would never have sufficient vocabulary to express what I felt in reading. This is one of the first times it happens, and I did not think I could have a novel experience to what I experienced when reading this passage. I do not think I would once again this soon. So thank you.

This is a chapter of revolting injustice of unfathomable sadness, intolerable cruelty, weariness and a terrible longing, a bitter beauty as bright as the birth of a new being on this earth, between joy, fear, hope and doubt ... It's indescribable, it's beyond words, it is one of the most intense moments experienced during a drive life.

The moral of the non-monumental and extraordinary epic is tasty (what an adventure, what a trip, what road traveled, what a story, friends!) We just fight, do the best (neither good nor bad, just better) in the circumstances to provide the best to those we love ...

And so we must accept to abandon Baudelaire, to return in full in our lives, in order to blacken the pages of our own disastrous adventure ... I'm still upset, so I'll abbreviate (there would still so much to say about this book!), because I have no desire to get over this. I must continue to do forever these contradictory feelings that stir within me, penalty mixture of joy, melancholy and lack.

So good wind, Baudelaire, and thank you infinitely. Everything will be so bittersweet .... without you. As life.