Happy endings
The always-Alert Baja Janeite sent us an article about reading Jane Austen for the happy endings:
Strangely enough though, recently things have changed. The fact is, I no longer read a book that might make me cry, or even tear up. Basically, I just don’t want to feel depressed when I put it down. Just one sentence (“The ultimate confrontation is devastating.”) in a recent rave review of a book by an outstanding writer of our time immediately persuaded me never to pick it up. In my lifetime.
Nowadays I need happy endings. Both in books and in real life.
I need to know that it’ll all turn out okay right for the Jane Austen heroine, for Harry Potter in the end, for the abusive robins on my back patio who scream and yell at me every time I open the back door, because they have built a nest on the light out there.
For life in general.
We can’t promise much about life in general, but we can assure her that she’ll be happy with Jane Austen’s novels, as long as she doesn’t overthink them. (Should we let her know about Harry Potter? And we know that some people who read this blog haven’t read all the HP books yet, so do please be careful in comments.)
June 3rd, 2008 at 12:08 pm
I am exactly the same way. I don’t want to see or read Atonement, in spite of the wonderful reviews, because it looks sad. My dad was the same way, and when I was in my 20’s I thought that his taste in books and movies was lamentable. Now I’m right where he was.
I can handle secondary characters ending up in a bad spot, but I don’t want the whole thing to end tragically. Ick. Life’s sad enough.
June 3rd, 2008 at 2:46 pm
This happened to me when I had my kids. Couldn’t even watch Disney movies because somebody’s mother always got killed. I still seldom watch “serious” movies or read anything very violent or wrenching. Life’s too short for the sadness.
June 3rd, 2008 at 5:18 pm
I feel as if I could have written that! I’m only in my early, early twenties, and I almost exclusively read books with happy endings. However, I don’t feel that it’s something to be ashamed of. I see little reason to read something that will only make me sad. I want to end the book with a smile on my face.
June 4th, 2008 at 5:29 am
As my favorite author said, “Let other pens dwell on guilt and misery.” I can certainly relate. Nevertheless, there are some books that, although heart-wrenching, have also left me with a feeling of hope at the end for what human beings can achieve. Which is why I hope you will reconsider reading Atonement, Julie B. Can’t say more or I will ruin the book for you!
June 4th, 2008 at 10:12 am
“…there are some books that, although heart-wrenching, have also left me with a feeling of hope at the end for what human beings can achieve.”
Yes! Atonement is a very good example.
June 5th, 2008 at 12:25 am
Oh, I almost have to disagree about Atonement! I did love it, but I really thought that Briony’s notion of atonement was really self-serving…it’s hard to say a lot about it without spoilers, I guess, but I recently read it and reviewed it over at my site if anyone’s interested. But I definitely did not get a warm-fuzzy at the end. (and again I feel like I need to say that I really, really loved the book and would recommend it heartily.)
June 5th, 2008 at 9:35 am
CAUTION: I DON’T THINK THIS IS SPOILERISH FOR ATONEMENT, BUT JUST IN CASE—
I found Atonement really menacing and it didn’t leave me at all feeling hopeful. Heart-wrenching, definitely. If anything, I found the ending brutal, with its affirmation that human achievement in art and the creative process can never mend what has been thoroughly destroyed by lies. For some things, there is no atonement possible.
Brilliantly written, but it sure put me through the wringer. I had to read a Barbara Pym novel after this one.
June 6th, 2008 at 4:37 pm
Hmm. You know, it’s funny, but while I can see not wanting to read something that’s going to make me sad (I go through those phases), I can’t really get in touch with that as a general philosphy. The way I see it, a well written, very sad piece of fiction (memoir, documentary, whatever) allows me to think about those kinds of emotions and circumstances, and it allows me to feel some small portion of what that must be like, but in a much safer way than actually experiencing it. This, as I see it, means that not only will I be better able to cope when something awful actually does happen to me, but I will also be better able to empathize with someone else in a bad situation.
Of course, this is assuming that the piece is very well done (in that it successfully reveals certain portions of human nature/life/ect. that generally remain hidden), and that it manages to NOT turn into pure cesspit of darkness (I really, really hate nilism).\
Sidenote:
I completely agree with Kate re: Atonement. Then again, that’s also why I think the book is so brilliant.
June 7th, 2008 at 9:54 pm
Life is hard; life is said. It’s so uplifting to believe that there can be happy endings!
June 7th, 2008 at 10:54 pm
Thanks, Diana, I also think Atonement is amazing and brilliant. (In case that wasn’t obvious in my first comment!)
June 8th, 2008 at 11:24 am
Oh I am a big fan of McEwan; reading his books makes for an extraordinary experience from beginning to end. But I certainly wouldn’t recommend him for anyone really needing an Austen happy ending.
I’m presently reading the McEwan book referred to in the article Mags posted above, On Chesil Beach– the one where “The ultimate confrontation is devastating.” It looks like I’m going to be pulling out the Pyms or Austens after this one as well!