In Defense of the Happy Ending
The other day I was looking through the blogs of a few of my favorite authors, and I came across a review of a newly released novel on a well-known fantasy publishing site. The reviewer was quite complimentary of the new book, but her review culminated with special praise of the fact that the protagonists (who are lesbian, by the way) go their separate ways at the end of the novel rather than choosing to stay together. She went on to say how much she dislikes books that try to claim that “love conquers all.” Now, this may have been because of the particular age group this book was written for, and from that perspective I don’t entirely disagree; but this got me thinking, a lot, last night.
I’m going to be perfectly frank here. I love, love, LOVE the theme of “love conquers all.” I love it because I believe in it wholeheartedly. And I believe in it not because I have some naïve giddy romantic idea that true love, once discovered, will transform one’s life into a fairytale forest of chirping birdies and squirrels that sit on your shoulder and unicorns that prance through the meadows and streaming rainbows and sunshine and sparkles everywhere… No, I believe in it because I believe that love is about 30% emotion, and 70% determination. I believe that love is a choice you make, consciously, to prioritize someone else in your heart through both the happy-fluffy-sparkly times and the dull-frustrating-angry-sad-painful times. You make that choice every day, sometimes even multiple times during the day, if needed. ^~ The tricky part is, it has to be chosen by both partners actively and daily in order for it to work. Either one gives up, moves on, decides they’re bored or it’s not worth it or their own interests are more important or there are greener pastures somewhere else - then nope, it’s not going to conquer a darned thing.
And true love is rare, I’ll give you that. It is not always easy to find someone who you fit with well enough that choosing them is a delight more often than it’s a struggle. And even when you do find such a person, there’s always the risk that they won’t feel the same about you. Most human beings, I think, desire this connection on at least some level, and spend a good portion of their lives looking for it. A few are lucky enough to find it. You know the ones - the little old couple in their eighties who, after fifty years of marriage, still hold each other’s hands as they rock back and forth on the porch of their nursing home. Does it happen for everyone? Sadly, no. But it’s very much what I want for myself, in my own life. And I would venture to say, based on the popularity of romance novels and sappy-ending movies and prince-gets-the-girl fairy tales and pretty much every song written by Taylor Swift, that I’m not the only person who dreams of having a love like that in my life.
(Ask that little old couple about their relationship, though, and you’re sure to get an earful of the trials and tribulations they had to navigate in order to be on that porch together fifty years later. True love is powerful and wonderful, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a hell of a lot of hard work, even terribly painful sometimes.)
But that is why I like my happy endings, goshdarnit. I’m not into “realism;” I’ve got plenty of that to deal with in my daily life. I read romance and fantasy because I want an escape from realism. I read because I want to be reminded that love does exist, and it is possible to find it, that it’s so worth fighting for, and that-if you make it important enough to you-it WILL conquer all. I read because it gives me hope and courage and faith, and I return to my own life and relationships with a refreshed determination to nurture the love I’ve been blessed with because it’s worth the extra effort. And this is especially important to me when it comes to lesbian stories, because the popular trend in so many lesbian movies, etc. is to give the characters a “realistic” ending, wherein they realize their relationship won’t work out and move on, forever trying to recapture what they had with that first love and looking back on it with a wistful c’est la vie smile. (Kissing Jessica Stein had me shucking objects around my living room in absolute fury.) Realistic? Maybe. But is that really the message we want to send-that lesbians don’t believe in happily-ever-after? That we don’t want it just as much as our straight friends? As far as I’m concerned, the last message we should be sending is that lesbian women should have no expectation that their relationships will last. It rather implies that their love isn’t as “real” as heterosexual love, that it is perhaps just a phase or whim (and following that line of logic, may even imply that queer people really are just confused, maybe even a little mentally unstable…?)
Now, I’m not going to stand here and declare that every story I ever write will have a happy ending. I don’t know what kind of a writer I’ll be in ten years, or twenty. And I’m definitely not going to promise that, once I’ve given a particular couple a happy ending in one book, they’re going to get to hang onto it with ease if I write sequels. I absolutely believe in realism when it comes to showing the complexity and difficulty that one faces when navigating life in partnership with someone else. I just - still - believe that ultimately, Love Conquers All… if you want it badly enough.
I’ll still read, watch and enjoy the more “realistic” stories because I can appreciate good storytelling even when the endings leave me disgruntled and unsatisfied. I will grant the writers license to tell me the story they want to tell, with the themes and statements they want to make, because it's their story and far be it from me to dictate to them how to tell it. If I have to, I’ll rewrite the ending in my own imagination so that it doesn’t sour the beauty of the rest of the story for me. But I will write the stories that I want to read - and you can rest assured that in my books, no matter how tragic or angst-driven or dark, somehow and in some way love will conquer all, every single time.
'Fraid my readers will just have to deal with it. :P
[crossposted from my website blog]
I’m going to be perfectly frank here. I love, love, LOVE the theme of “love conquers all.” I love it because I believe in it wholeheartedly. And I believe in it not because I have some naïve giddy romantic idea that true love, once discovered, will transform one’s life into a fairytale forest of chirping birdies and squirrels that sit on your shoulder and unicorns that prance through the meadows and streaming rainbows and sunshine and sparkles everywhere… No, I believe in it because I believe that love is about 30% emotion, and 70% determination. I believe that love is a choice you make, consciously, to prioritize someone else in your heart through both the happy-fluffy-sparkly times and the dull-frustrating-angry-sad-painful times. You make that choice every day, sometimes even multiple times during the day, if needed. ^~ The tricky part is, it has to be chosen by both partners actively and daily in order for it to work. Either one gives up, moves on, decides they’re bored or it’s not worth it or their own interests are more important or there are greener pastures somewhere else - then nope, it’s not going to conquer a darned thing.
And true love is rare, I’ll give you that. It is not always easy to find someone who you fit with well enough that choosing them is a delight more often than it’s a struggle. And even when you do find such a person, there’s always the risk that they won’t feel the same about you. Most human beings, I think, desire this connection on at least some level, and spend a good portion of their lives looking for it. A few are lucky enough to find it. You know the ones - the little old couple in their eighties who, after fifty years of marriage, still hold each other’s hands as they rock back and forth on the porch of their nursing home. Does it happen for everyone? Sadly, no. But it’s very much what I want for myself, in my own life. And I would venture to say, based on the popularity of romance novels and sappy-ending movies and prince-gets-the-girl fairy tales and pretty much every song written by Taylor Swift, that I’m not the only person who dreams of having a love like that in my life.
(Ask that little old couple about their relationship, though, and you’re sure to get an earful of the trials and tribulations they had to navigate in order to be on that porch together fifty years later. True love is powerful and wonderful, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a hell of a lot of hard work, even terribly painful sometimes.)
But that is why I like my happy endings, goshdarnit. I’m not into “realism;” I’ve got plenty of that to deal with in my daily life. I read romance and fantasy because I want an escape from realism. I read because I want to be reminded that love does exist, and it is possible to find it, that it’s so worth fighting for, and that-if you make it important enough to you-it WILL conquer all. I read because it gives me hope and courage and faith, and I return to my own life and relationships with a refreshed determination to nurture the love I’ve been blessed with because it’s worth the extra effort. And this is especially important to me when it comes to lesbian stories, because the popular trend in so many lesbian movies, etc. is to give the characters a “realistic” ending, wherein they realize their relationship won’t work out and move on, forever trying to recapture what they had with that first love and looking back on it with a wistful c’est la vie smile. (Kissing Jessica Stein had me shucking objects around my living room in absolute fury.) Realistic? Maybe. But is that really the message we want to send-that lesbians don’t believe in happily-ever-after? That we don’t want it just as much as our straight friends? As far as I’m concerned, the last message we should be sending is that lesbian women should have no expectation that their relationships will last. It rather implies that their love isn’t as “real” as heterosexual love, that it is perhaps just a phase or whim (and following that line of logic, may even imply that queer people really are just confused, maybe even a little mentally unstable…?)
Now, I’m not going to stand here and declare that every story I ever write will have a happy ending. I don’t know what kind of a writer I’ll be in ten years, or twenty. And I’m definitely not going to promise that, once I’ve given a particular couple a happy ending in one book, they’re going to get to hang onto it with ease if I write sequels. I absolutely believe in realism when it comes to showing the complexity and difficulty that one faces when navigating life in partnership with someone else. I just - still - believe that ultimately, Love Conquers All… if you want it badly enough.
I’ll still read, watch and enjoy the more “realistic” stories because I can appreciate good storytelling even when the endings leave me disgruntled and unsatisfied. I will grant the writers license to tell me the story they want to tell, with the themes and statements they want to make, because it's their story and far be it from me to dictate to them how to tell it. If I have to, I’ll rewrite the ending in my own imagination so that it doesn’t sour the beauty of the rest of the story for me. But I will write the stories that I want to read - and you can rest assured that in my books, no matter how tragic or angst-driven or dark, somehow and in some way love will conquer all, every single time.
'Fraid my readers will just have to deal with it. :P
[crossposted from my website blog]