There are subjectives, and then there are these. While you may believe a work fits here, and you might be right, people tend to have rather vocal, differing opinions about this subject. Please keep these off of the work's page.
"One would have to have a heart of stone to read the death of little Nell without dissolving into tears... of laughter."
The reason Puddleglum has that moment also qualifies. The Green Witch was attempting to make the characters forget that the surface is real. This involves her asking for every magnificent surface concept, "Please, what is this [insert concept here]?" Over and over and over.
And what better way to make someone question what they know than to force them to explain it to you?
Jacqueline Carey is a great writer. But, in the beginning of her book Banewreaker, right in the middle of her description of the mythic beginnings of the world, is this:
"Also there were dragons."
RA Salvatore: "You deserve the wrath of Pook!" If you think that line is hilarious now, wait till you realize it comes out of Artemis Entreri's mouth. That's right, the supposedly coldest and most repressed assassin of the series once went around screaming a name one letter away from Garfield's teddy bear. Uh, Salvatore, we love your fight scenes, but what is up with your dialogue?
Yeah, yeah, we know, Pook is a dangerous guy; but come on! He's almost Garfield's teddy bear!
Tolkien's archaic writing style lends itself to narm, especially for modern audiences.
"With that (Théoden) seized a great horn from Guthláf his banner-bearer, and he blew such a blast upon it that it burst asunder". It sounds good in print, but just try picturing it and it looks silly. You can imagine him staring at it in bemusement before throwing it away.
"Then late in the afternoon in the third day of their moot, the Ents suddenly blew up". Taken literally, and you can imagine John Cleese narrating "And here is the Ent who told us where they were"... BOOM!. Alternatively, the Bender clones exploding at the end of Futurama: Bender's Big Score.
When Gandalf sees Saruman of Many Colors for the first time, his only comment: "I liked white better". For a book filled with "verily" and "alas", such a blunt, simple sentence can make you imagine it in all kinds of funny voices.
The epilogue of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows received derision for being cheesy, overly sappy, or like a bad fanfic, despite the author's presumed sincerity in the final scene of her long-running series.
J.K.R. often overdoes it with Snape's various Awesome Moments. Remember "I, THE HALF BLOOD PRINCE?" or "Look... at... me..."
The death of Dumbledore at the end of Half-Blood Prince, meant to be serious and heartbreaking, was seen by some as overdone and melodramatic.
To elaborate, Dumbledore is already dying from a curse. In the space of a night he drinks a poisonous potion, gets hit by a killing spell and then falls off a tower. He gets killed four times over as if to prove beyond a doubt that he's dead.
Not so much the death as the funeral. Not anything specific, just the over-the-top way it was written.
There's also a line in Order of the Phoenix.
"WAIT UNTIL WE'VE GOT THE PROPHECY!" bawled [Lucius] Malfoy.
It gives you the image of a grown man wailing like a toddler.
Not meant that way: this meant "as if Death were a person".
This was used to describe the death of a minor character. Moody was cool, but he really hadn't earned the amount of drama JKR was trying to put in that sentence. We hardly knew him; we saw more of Barty Crouch Jr. as him than the guy himself.
In-universe, Harry thinks pretty much any time the Dursleys show emotion is Narmy, mostly involving Petunia and Dudley. Whenever the Dursleys show affection for each other, expect Harry to "suppress the urge to laugh".
Regarding that epilogue, it seems the real issue is that it was actually the first thing Rowling wrote of the series, and she didn't do enough when the time came to edit it to match the way her writing style or the tone of the series had evolved.
Ah, Inheritance Cycle. Flip the books open to any page. Chances are, you'll find yourself in the middle of a Narmy scene.
The 'baby on a spike' scene gained extra Narm thanks to an Eddie Izzard comedy routine on the subject.
"When I grow up, I want to stick babies on spikes!"
That scene is made even sillier by Eragon's musings when he sees them: "What does our existence mean when it can end like this?" Less than a paragraph later, he kills a crow because it dared to peck at a corpse. It's like goldy and bronzy, only it's made of iron.
The first sentence of Eragon—something like "wind howled through the night, carrying a scent that would change the world." And in Eldest, Eragon is transformed into a half-elf, half-human, calls himself a "princeling," and is "more beautiful than any man, more rugged than any elf". Clearly Paolini wanted his readers to be in awe, but...
Most of the opening scene is very narmy, such as "the Urgals shrank back, motionless," (so how did they shrink back without moving) and Durza's ridiculous order to the Urgals: "Stop whoever is coming... or die." (Just so the audience knows this incredibly complex character is evil).
In Eldest, the scene where Arya meets some elves, and they form a ring and dance around her for a few minutes, singing. All fine and dandy, if, like Paolini, you are not English. If you are, you can't help but be reminded of Morris dancing. Which is hilarious.
On the one hand, Brisingr is less of a ripoff of other works and more original on Paolini's part. On the other hand, some of his original ideas are a little bizarre, such as that furry elf who's irresistible to women...
Long, untranslated pieces of either the Ancient Language or that noise the Dwarves make.
And then there's the scene in Eldest in which Eragon reads his poem to the elves. Judging by the praise they heap on him, we're meant to be awe-inspired. Unfortunately, the poem is not the lyrical opus the elves praise it as, but an atrociously written, borderline Emo Teen's love poem. There is neither rhyme nor meter, and it refers to eyes as 'enigmatic pools'.
This goes for almost any of the verse Paolini includes in the Cycle - he confines himself to free verse with almost no metre or indeed poetic attributes of any kind.
In Brisingr, Eragon involuntarily kills two birds and a snake to replenish his magic reserves, and "dies three times". We're clearly meant to be touched by his sensitivity. This falls somewhat flat if you realise that this comes after he's slaughtered hundreds of the Designated Villain's soldiers without so much as batting an eyelid.
There is also a scene in which the sight of a bee saves Eragon from the brink of death.
Oh, Inheritance is almost unreadable, there's so much Narm. This series just takes itself far more seriously than it often deserves.
Such as the moment at the end of "The City of Sorrows" when Roran mentally tells Eragon to "hurry, or I swear I'll haunt you from the grave." While this is not a serious threat on Roan's part, it's clearly meant to be a serious moment showing us the dire situation they find themselves in... but it's such a useless, laughable threat that Roran looks like a wimp. "Just in case feeling overwhelming amounts of anguish/guilt for failing to keep the world from falling to the permanent rule of a horrible, inhuman dictator, letting your liegelord be tortured almost to death, losing the schoolboy-crush-esque love of your life, aren't enough... your cousin is also going to return from the dead as a spook in wherever you live in the ensuing dystopia."
Galbatorix was never the most original and compelling villain ever written, but dear lord, is his dialogue in Inheritance clichéd. One wonders how can anyone read such three-dimensional lines such as “I shall kill [these kids I pulled out of nowhere] if you dare attack me again... In fact, if you displease me excessively, I shall kill them anyway” without imagining him twirling his mustache. If you've read My Immortal, it's also liable to remind you of its version of Voldemort going, "Kill [Draco], or I shall kill him anyway!"
Eragon kills a random enemy soldier by punching him so hard that he goes flying into the ceiling.
The first book includes a minor character named Merlock. Keep in mind that the other Merlock's name was a parody name combination of "Merlin" and "warlock", and it becomes difficult to take its use in a serious fantasy story seriously.
The amount of Narm in Sword of Truth depends on your political background (if you're a liberal, his dedication page in one book is a narm). The one thing everyone can agree on is that the evil chicken that cackled was hilarious. The collection of Narms can be found here.
Most of those make a lotmore sense in context, and a few are either false or worded to be deliberately misleading. But the "chicken that is not a chicken," the stupidly long speeches, and the flip-flopping about whether he can eat meat are indisputably Narm.
The name Nicholas the Slide. It sounds like an anthropomorphic playground apparatus, not a soul-stealing wizard.
The ending of Of Mice and Men contains a scene utterly uncharacteristic of the rest of the book. Lennie has a mental breakdown and is roundly chastised by a giant, hallucinatory bunny (which speaks in Lennie's voice). The scene is omitted from many play and movie adaptations of the book.
Also, if read aloud a certain way, "I like beans with ketchup!" becomes hilarious.
There is a book called Dancing with an Alien about an alien sent to Earth to find love. (The book was clearly counting on attracting the readers of Twilight). It includes the line, "I am here to find a female". The book as a whole is chock full of high octane narm.
The first chapter of The Ill-Made Mute has constant Purple Prose. But how can you dislike a book where one of the traditional songs of her fantasy world is a rephrase of "Stairway To Heaven"? And another is Cream's "White Room"?
The beginning of Dart-Thornton's next trilogy, The Iron Tree, was much worse. It might even venture into the realm of Sesquipedalian Loquaciousness. Dying from a sprig of mistletoe shouldn't take so many words.
If it's a Harrier, then repairable condition is as close as you're getting to perfect.
Thanks to Purple Prose, the Twilight books have lots of this. One of the best was when Edward was holding his and Bella's baby:
"He was both dazzling and dazzled."
Sparklyvampires. The point of the meadow scene is that Edward sparkles, literally. And he says that it's the body of a killer. Will either make readers lament about how "true" vampires are dead, or send them into giggles.
In the second book, Edward attempts to kill himself by sparkling.
Not just by sparkling. By sparkly striptease.
The ten blank pages in the second book—to signify that Bella's sorrow over Edward leaving her is so deep that she's not even internally journalling—are either incredibly heartbreaking or incredibly narmy depending on one's view of the series.
When Jacob starts going into his "abusive Jerk Ass" persona, Bella tries to punch him, only for her hand to break in the process. Then she proceeds to hop repeatedly while holding her hand. That is not very dramatic, Mrs. Meyer.
Not to mention that while she's yelling at Jacob because werewolves don't age, she actually stomps her foot like she's a little two-year old.
Edward isn't any better. In New Moon, when Bella had the Cullens vote on whether or not she should become a vampire, the majority of the family said "yes". How does suave, mature Edward react? He starts shouting "NO! NO! NO!" like a little two-year-old.
While waiting for the Volturi in Breaking Dawn:
Edward leaned his head against the same shoulder where he'd placed Renesmee. "Goodbye, Jacob, my brother ... my son."
Nat's first night at Plumfield in Little Men, when Demi goes into his room and winds up telling him the entire life of Christ as a bedtime story.
The Glurge-tastic coverage given to the boys at Plumfield with disabilities, physical or mental.
"God don't care; for my soul is straight if my back isn't," sobbed Dick to his tormentor on that occasion; and, by cherishing this idea, the Bhaers soon led him to believe that people also loved his soul, and did not mind his body, except to pity and help him to bear it.
Also from Louisa May Alcott, Jo's Boys goes into great detail about how wonderful Amy and Laurie's wedded bliss has been, including expounding at length on their perfect daughter. Little Men has an entire chapter about how angelic Bess is and what a good influence she is on the boys, who for some reason are all desperate to impress a four-year-old.
The line "Ftaires! We haue found ftaires!" in House of Leaves is both scary andNarmful at the same time. It is genuinely chilling when you realise what's just happened, but... ftaires! Of course, if you don't realize what just happened, then it looks like Zampano wasn't making any sense again...
Possibly lampshaded by Johnny Truant persisting in using an "f" every time he should use an "s" for the next several pages.
Possibly nothing. Johnny outright complains about not understanding why old texts use "f" instead of "s". And he doesn't so much insist on using "f" as very gradually transition, over the course of a lengthy diatribe, from using all "S"s to using all "F"s, almost as if he doesn't even realize he's doing it
Romance of the Three Kingdoms has one during Cao Cao's escape from his defeat at the Battle of Red Cliff. After running a bit, he stops and laughs, noting that his rival Zhuge Liang can't be that smart or he'd have placed an ambush right at that spot. Cue ambush. After he and the remnants of his army escape, the exact same thing then happens twice more.
In A Man for All Seasons. Margaret's comeback to her father's saying something typically Deadpan Snarker-like (if that can be said of Thomas More) was something along the lines of 'You're very gay.' She meant cheery and glad, but...
Quite possibly the most infamous Narm moment in all of literature:
Most of Wilde's children's stories contain Narm and soppy morals. Most Victorian moral stories for children do. Wilde's work Crosses the Line Twice — you have to barrel through the narm and then double back and start crying like a girl.
Wild Cards has its share of narm, but in particular this line:
"C.C. Ryder's very real nightmare was that she would again become a living subway car formed from nothing save hate".
The Lottery Rose features a scene where a young mentally handicapped boy is killed from an attack... by a group of ducks. Special mention for the use of the phrase "Their hungry quacking" for creepy build-up.
A Streetcar Named Desire has a scene when Stella talks about how her abusive husband, on their wedding night, smashed all the light fittings in the hotel room with her slipper. The sheer randomness of that action, combined with a slipper being the silliest weapon ever, makes it hilarious.
The poet and classical scholar A. E. Housman brilliantly parodied translation-induced Narm in "Fragment of a Greek Tragedy":
ERIPHYLE (within): O, I am smitten with a hatchet's jaw; And that in deed and not in word alone. CHORUS: I thought I heard a sound within the house Unlike the voice of one that jumps for joy. ERIPHYLE: He splits my skull, not in a friendly way, Once more: he purposes to kill me dead. CHORUS: I would not be reputed rash, but yet I doubt if all be gay within the house. ERIPHYLE: O! O! another stroke! that makes the third. He stabs me to the heart against my wish. CHORUS: If that be so, thy state of health is poor; But thine arithmetic is quite correct.
The dramatic scene in Clan of the Cave Bear in which Ayla accidentally uncovers the mog-urs of the various clans cannibalizing the brain of the man slain by a cave bear in a ceremony becomes quite amusing when it hits you that the man's name was Gorn.
From the same series, we have Stannis Baratheon delivering a private eulogy for his deceased brother Renly, which is made narmish when he says something like, "I'll go to my grave thinking of my brother's peach." It Makes Sense in Context, but even so...
The problem is that some people use "peach" as a euphemism for "vagina". This probably includes Stannis himself. The double meaning of "peach" may allude to Renly's possible homosexuality, which is hinted at throughout the series. Stannis says elsewhere that Renly's wife is likely to die a virgin; Renly's servants are said to have practice being blind, deaf and mute to what occurs in his household; one of Renly's (male) knights is referred to as "Renly's little rose"; etc. Stannis may be saying that he won't forget the innocent enthusiasm his brother took in little things... but he won't forget Renly's less innocent preferences, either. (Given Stannis's inflexible justice throughout the series, this makes sense.)
The multiple uses of "half a hundred" as the number of times something gory happens (the little Targaryen princess was stabbed half a hundred times, someone's daughter was raped by half a hundred men during the bread riots, etc.) makes it less impressive and more "take a sip!"
Speaking of awkward and archaic word usage, the phrase "breaking their fast" to describe characters... well, having breakfast. Can't they just be described as "eating?"
The repeated references to Ygritte having "hair of fire" or "flame." Once or twice, it's a decent poetic description of red hair. After that...
A character's name is Dickon Manwoody. Thankfully, he doesn't become a main character, but it's still pretty hard to take scenes he's in seriously.
Many of the names are hard to take seriously, especially the ones that are just real English names with one letter off. Tristifer? Jaremy? Endrew? Yohn? Even Drogo if you remember that that was Frodo's dad's name in The Lord of the Rings; just picture him as a hobbit and he becomes a lot less formidable.
The slaveholding cities have to be the most over-the-top, Planet of Hats culture depicted in the books (okay, second after the Dothraki). They hit every "decadent Eastern Fantasy Counterpart Culture" trope there is. The description of the Unsullied's training includes a version of a well-known urban legend told about various militaries: that on their first day, they're all given puppies to bond with, and then after a year they have to kill them. That's narmful enough, but this is told to Dany immediately after it's explained how another part of their training is to go to the slave market with a coin, find a baby in its mother's arms, and kill it in front of her, the cherry on top being that the baby's owner rather than the mother gets the coin. The slaver telling Dany this considers the puppy story the more impressive one. Do you think he might be a bad guy?
In The Good Guy, a novel by Dean Koontz, there's a fantastic line that completely breaks the flow of the scenario. A killer is stalking the two main characters. Seeing the killer's car outside waiting for them causes this line (referring to the male hero) to be typed:
"He wished he were a buttered muffin."
A minor example, but Tamora Pierce's Beka Cooper books have the police force, who were called "Dogs" enough that they embraced the nickname, think of themselves as Dogs, call their newbies Puppies and their holding pens "kennels", have to clarify "four-legged dogs" for actual canines, so on. Fine. But sometimes, they go too far. There's a mention of "The Growl", when a large number of Dogs in a tavern together get personal about a case - a few start growling, then more and more, and then all of the ones in the tavern are growling and it terrifies any non-Dog. But that sounds ridiculous. It sounds like a bunch of tough-looking uniformed adults going "Grrr!" together.
The Circle of Magic books have many scenes where some mean adult insinuates that the kids aren't awesome in every way and they then prove their skills in a way that renders the adult reeling and speechless. There are so many of these scenes that they collectively become Narmy, and some of them are cheesy. The worst is that one in Will of the Empress when Briar fights the nobleman.
In Cold Fire, four words: black powder boom dust.
Hey, did you know that "kid" can mean "child" as well as "baby goat"? Maybe in addition to Call a Smeerp a "Rabbit" and Call a Rabbit a "Smeerp" we should have a trope for "Call a Rabbit a Rabbit but Keep Explaining It in Every Book for Some Reason As If That's Your Audience's Only Hope of Understanding a Term They've All Used Their Whole Lives." It's an especially odd choice because it's not like Pierce doesn't use plenty of slang words that really are archaic and obscure without feeling the need to define them (at least outside the glossary).
The Firm. Mitch McDeere has just narrowly avoided getting gunned down in his own office, and is on the run from the boys in the firm. It's a tense scene. Lots of short sentences. Like this one. He jumps from the building. He runs like hell. He turns down the street. He stops to check behind him. He eats an apple.
"Mir. It rhymes with 'fear'" from the short story "Above It All." There are some parts of that story that are truly creepy. That is not one of them.
More than once in Dracula, the title character is described as going out "in his lizard fashion". It's meant to convey that his movements are lizardlike, but it evokes the image of him wearing some sort of lizardskin waistcoat.
It's meant to convey that Harker saw him descending a wall like a lizard would - clinging to it headfirst.
How does "Harker saw him descending a wall like a lizard would" not mean "his movements are lizardlike"?
There is also the moment later when Dracula attacks Mina. This scene reads like attempted rape but is brought down by four factors: 1) the fact that the men are all in the room and do nothing about it; 2) that Harker is unconscious in the corner with a red face and the description of him sounds as if he's drunk; 3) when the men break the door down Van Helsing goes flying across the floor; and 4) Dr Seward completely kills the moment when he likens the scene in his narration to "a child forcing a kitten's nose into a saucer of milk to compel it to drink." Way to kill the mood, Seward.
Susan Beth Pfeffer's the dead and the gone is about what happens when an asteroid hits the moon and puts in in a closer orbit to Earth. The main character's sister helps her school grow a vegetable garden for more food. Unfortunately, thanks to volcanic winter, the frost hits in August. Upon seeing her garden destroyed, the sister cries plaintively, "MY STRIIIIIING BEAAAAAAANS!"
H.P. Lovecraft — great writer but, ye gods, it is hard to take some of those stories as seriously as you're supposed to. There's just too much blatant racism. For instance, there's "The Rats in the Walls." The story itself is as eerie and, well, Lovecraftian as any; but it seems like every other paragraph has the main character talking about his beloved cat Niggerman.
It should be noted that Lovecraft actually had a cat with that name at the time of that story's writing. Yeah...
Similarly, the cat in "In Cold Blood" is called Boobs.
"No wonder she owned a link with that old witch-woman Sophonisba—for, though in deceitfully slight proportion, Marceline was a negress."
That degree of racism was considered ridiculous and unpleasant even at the time. Besides, the point being made is not that Lovecraft's racism discredits his whole work, but merely that it makes certain scenes lose their impact to the modern reader because of the laughter/fury/Flat "What." factor it causes.
Some of Lovecraft's names were hilarious. The Whisperer in Darkness had the potential to be absolutely terrifying, but the phrase "Fungi from Yuggoth" sounds amusing.
If you know actual Arabic, the As Long as It Sounds Foreign name of Abdul Alhazred is actually redundant. "Abdul" means "Servant/Slave of the". So if "Hazred" meant anything, than "Abdul Alhazred" would mean "Slave of the the (whatever it meant)." Anything that has two definite articles comes off a little Narmy.
The book Notes on a Scandal gives us the classic line "Miss, miss, can I come in you miss?" whilst Bathsheba and Steven are having sex for the first time. This is an interesting case: the line was meant to be unnatural, emphasizing Stephen's awkwardness in their relationship and the formalities between teacher and student, but the line came across as funny rather than Squicky.
The Ruins is a creepy book in which a group of tourists end up trapped on a hill with a man-eating plant. For most of the book, the plant is scary, especially when it's revealed that the plant is sentient and enjoys screwing with them. Then it starts speaking in German.
From the Dutch novella Onmacht:
"In een genadeloze opeenvolging valt haar huwelijk uit elkaar. De sokken maken het definitief." (In a merciless consecution her marriage falls to pieces. The socks make it final.)
Stephen King's It — specifically, that scene at the very end of the book. You know the one. The one where 12-year-old Beverly has to help her six 12-year-old friends escape the sewers. Her method, and why it is Narm, is perhaps best left unexplained...[[note]]They have sex[[/labelnote]].
Dave's eyes flickered open for one last time and he saw the rockets on the base of the Planet Hopper fire into life. What a view! he thought, and then died as the flames from the engines reached the bus which then exploded.
The screams of laughter from the readers reached the novel, which then exploded.
Mariel in Mariel of Redwall is the High Queen of Mood Swings. After a mean old squirrel refuses to travel with her:
For the first time, Storm felt alone and unwanted. She walked off out of the squirrel's bower into the surrounding trees, swinging her rope. "Me and Gullwhacker don't need anybeast. We're all right."
Five seconds later, she's back, and everything's fine. She does this sort of thing repeatedly.
She stabilizes a bit once she gets her memory back.
Not to mention the line "Sports, playing... what's all that mean?" You've got amnesia, woman, you didn't just crawl out from under a rock! Then there's Treerose and her obsession with being an Attention Whore until she grows up a bit.
In the Alan Dean FosterSpace OperaThe End of the Matter, the heroes encounter a primitive race of sapients on the planet Alaspin called the Otoids. Much is made of the fact that the Otoids... remove the eyes of those they kill and that no one knows why they do this! Oooooh! Scary! Cue inner monologues of characters grimly musing to themselves, "What do the Otoids do with dead men's eyes?" But... there are few things that the Otoids can do with those eyes that could be more shocking that their killing people and then taking the eyes in the first place. The canonical reason the Otoids have is not one of those things.
Ten pages or so into William Forstchen's Cosy Catastrophe novel One Second After, the reader learns that one of the rugged widower hero's two adorable girls is a diabetic. From then on, you know exactlywhat must happen, but it takes the entire novel to get there. When it does, Forstchen has to kill the family dog immediately after.
The Saga of Darren Shan gives us one of its vampire varieties named "Vampaneze". No. It's not a parody. And they're the scary, evil vampires! You'd think an author would spend more than 5 minutes thinking up a name for the race of a major villain, but here we go!
The Star Wars Expanded Universe book Fatal Alliance gives us this wonderful part after a Jedi Padawan saves a Sith Apprentice's life, from her point of view: "The Jedi had saved her, and she wrenched herself from him, even as she felt a twinge of gratitude. Surely he hadn't done it out of the vile goodness of his heart!" Yes. Vile goodness. Just in case you didn't know that the Sith were evil with a capital E...[[note]]She's tsundere, so to speak, and hating the fact that she had to be rescued by a 'good guy' when Sith usually consider themselves Above Good and Evil.[[/labelnote]]
A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court has a "Great Illustrated Classics" version, which is basically a condensed kids' version. There's a scene towards the end of the book where Merlin sneaks into the cave where Morgan's forces have made their last stand, disguised as a woman, to place an enchantment of Morgan. Despite being in a dress, when we see him he very clearly has a long, thick beard.
Transformers: Exodus has one. Orion Pax (Optimus) looks out at the Skyline and decides that he wants to rebel against the rigid caste society of Cybertron... so that he can go to an amusement park.
Dan Brown's prose is frankly dreadful, which ruins quite a few moments in The Da Vinci Code. For instance, "She could feel the ancient blood coursing through her veins."
Tess of the d'Urbervilles is genuinely tragic, but... when her illegitimate rape baby falls fatally ill and Tess's abusive father won't allow a clergyman in to baptize him, so Tess does it herself, and then reveals that she never got around to naming him, and then decides to christen him SORROW, complete with melodramatic capital letters, just as he dies... well, that's laying it on a little thick.
Although Dave Wolverton's proclivity for referring to testicles almost exclusively as "walnuts" throughout The Runelords, the narmiest part of the series is the short review written by Orson Scott Card included at the beginning of each novel, which is a little bit too emotional to take seriously.
Don't worry about it. Tide goes in, tide goes out. Never a miscommunication. Amen.
The final chapter of the eleventh Haruhi Suzumiya novel is truly epic Narm. Fujiwara's conversation with Mikuru during the former's Villainous Breakdown has both characters sound like they are in a Soap Opera. It's kind of hard to take the words, "I don't want to lose you again, Onee-san!" seriously when it's Fujiwara saying them. And it doesn't help that there is a very melodramatic illustration for this scene which looks like it was taken out of a Shoujo manga.
While The Lovely Bones generally has very good prose, it's hard to take this line seriously:
She asked for coffee and toast in a restaurant and buttered it with tears.
Sisterhood Series by Fern Michaels: This popped up a few times. For instance, some of the conversations between Jack and Harry fall victim to this because Jack called Harry "you big silly!" A number of reviewers reported having laughed at lines like that, because they know for a fact that men do not talk to each other like that in Real Life.
In addition, the series is heavy on Melodrama, which has led to Narm a few times. For example, Kathryn's rant about how the law works for the criminal in Fast Track is hard to take seriously, because they are in the U.S.A., and the law is certainly not supposed to work for the criminal there!
In the book Under The Radar, the men receive some National Guard outfits. Ted Robinson, a 30-something year-old man and reporter, calls it a "speckled" outfit. At least one reviewer found that part rather difficult to swallow!
In The Odyssey, men break down crying over and over again. It's not so bad when it's Telemakhos, considering he's only on the cusp of manhood and he only does it once or twice per book, but Book 10 features Odysseus and/or his crew breaking down every other paragraph. Eventually, the crying stops being dramatic and turns into this.
The Perks of Being a Wallflower has a particularly narmful passage in which, at the start of one of his letters, Charlie describes his newly discovered ability to masturbate. And yes, this is one of the times he uses "Wow!" in a completely serious manner.
Moby-Dick includes this gem. "Squeeze! squeeze! squeeze! All the morning long; I squeezed that sperm till I myself almost melted into it; I squeezed that sperm till a strange sort of insanity came over me; and I found myself unwittingly squeezing my co-laborers' hands in it, mistaking their hands for the gentle globules." A severe case of Have a Gay Old Time - even worse than the book's actual title.
The last Artemis Fowl book has an in-universe example. Holly, Artemis, and Butler end up being pursued and nearly eaten alive by a horde of giant crickets. After they barely manage to escape, Butler announces that they have "lost the crickets." He wasn't trying to be funny, but Holly can't stop herself from laughing at his comment, and says even he can't make that line sound tough.
In the eponymous first book of Left Behind, the series' Antichrist figure makes a speech to the United Nations that we are explicitly told is "powerful" and "moving," enough for the delegates to stand up cheering and to put humanity under his spell for his New World Order. The speech, however, reads like a schoolchild giving a class report on the UN, during which he lists every member state of the United Nations in alphabetical order... dramatically. The Slacktivist, critiquing this scene in his blog, challenges the reader to do this without laughing.
Fifty Shades of Grey has two major harbingers of narm: the inner goddess and the subconscious. Made even worse by the fact that they are never actually addressed in any way. We are supposed to accept that Ana expresses most of her emotions via characters who are basically an angel and a devil sitting on her shoulder.
Another major problem is Ana's very liberal use of "jeez", "holy crap/moses/cow", and "oh my". Kills every sex scene instantly.
Also "morphling." It doesn't even make sense to use it for both the drug and the addict.
The Eye of Argon is made in its entirety of pure, distilled, highly concentrated Narm. Imagine Purple Prose combined with Delusions of Eloquence and all the worst Sword And Sorcery clichés you can think of, and you'll barely have scratched the surface. Suffice to say, it's a common parlor game at SF conventions to see who can read it aloud the longest before breaking up into fits of laughter.
The Wings of Fire series, unfortunately, has protagonists the (equivalent) age of young children, which means that any serious feeling theplot generates is evaporated when you hear how ridiculously they talk and think. It goes right through 'ironic sarcasm' to 'seriously annoying.'
"IceWings! Yes!" Clay said. "That sounds like a great plan. Let's do that. No mysterious dragon-killing things in the Ice Kingdom. Right? What are those animals they have up there? Penguins? I bet I could beat a penguin or two in battle. Couldn't I? How big are they? Maybe just one penguin."
"See?" Glory said to Clay and Starflight. "Even Sunny is acting braver than you scaredy-scavengers."
Queen. Moorhen. It has a character named Queen Moorhen in it! And no, this is not an insulting nickname or an invocation of Fail O'Suckyname- it's her actual name, and everyone talks about her so seriously, no one ever points out how stupid it is for a dragon to be named Moorhen. And it means you get narration like this.
And then there's the dragon named Handsome. Again, in all seriousness.
That part was portrayed more ironic than anything else.
Island in the Sea of Time has a scene in which The Quisling Pamela Lisketter and her dimwitted brother raid the library in order to kidnap Martha Cofflin. Marian Alston happens to be there and naturally tries to intervene, and just to put the scare into the two idiots, she decides to slip into her native Georgia accent. The unfortunate results make her sound more like Pogo Possum than a scary black woman. You'd think the fact that she's wielding a goddamn katana would be enough to scare the two moronic white liberals...
War and Democide Never Again: In the last chapter, John gets rid of all of Joy's belongings after he kills her. But as it turns out, he forgets about her toothbrush, meaning that he sees it when he wakes up the day afterward, leading to this hilarious line in his Internal Monologue:
John:Her toothbrush! Joy! Joooy! The sledgehammer of stark realization finally smashed into me. I’D KILLED JOY!
Also, the author's insistence on using his own coinage "democide" to describe what his heroes want to prevent, instead of "genocide" or even the generic term "crimes against humanity", can be considered Narm in and of itself.
The ludicrous Alternate Calendar in the self-published dreckAt First Glance counts. Instead of being normal and calling a day a day, the book insists on calling it an "epoch". That in itself is Narm, but wait, there's more! Nine epochs make up one "cycle", four cycles make up one "apogee" and fifteen apogees make up one... zapato. Yes, really. The book's equivalent to a year has a name that means "shoe", for God's sake...
The book also tells about an evil prince that rapes the heroine. His name? Jafar.
In Keys to the Repository, by Melissa Cruz, the protagonist's Wangst about being fostered is just a bit hard to take seriously. (It's a valid point, sure, but the narration makes it sound like the worst thing in the world!)
So what? Schuyler thought, running a hairbrush through her dark hair before pulling it back into a ponytail. So what if he'd given her a book and key? She was still miserable. She was still living with them and not her grandfather. Ever since she'd arrived, she had been made to feel as welcome as Jane Eyre at Gateshead with her rich cousins. She was lucky Mimi hadn't locked her in the closet yet.
Schuyler's later whining about always being alone is also this- the character seems to have forgotten that Oliver even exists. Which is odd, given that they've only spent their whole lives together and know everything about each other.
A lot of the dialogue in Dragon's Oath rhymes unnecessarily. So you get sentences like this:
"You have cut my heart with your sword,
"Bryan Dragon Lankford!"
Stephen King's Carrie, when Carrie finally rebels against Margaret by screaming:
Tyrannosaur Canyon has a moment when the sociopath The Dragon, menacing a woman he fully intends to rape, removes his shirt to show his tattoo: a Tyrannosaurus Rex that covers his back. He expounds that tyrannosaurs were devastating apex predators, but dinosaur fascination is commonly associated with grade-school boys, not threatening villains. The situation doesn't improve as he flexes to make the beast move.
In A Clockwork Orange, there's an in-universe example, when Alex starts reading P. Alexander's manifesto aloud and both he and his friends get the giggles.