What It Felt Like to Watch the Lost Finale: A Non-Spoilery Metaphor for Non-Fans
I thought I'd write this little hypothetical scenario to help those who had never watched Lost understand what it felt like to be a die-hard Lost fan at the ending moments of the finale last night. I know some fans don't agree with me, but I think this will more or less sum up the feelings of the vast majority of posters I've seen online since last night. As always, this is just what it felt like to me. If you felt differently, I'm glad for you. I'd rather be you than me right now.
So indulge me in a hypothetical...
Imagine you love murder mysteries. You start reading a book that is touted as the great murder mystery of the ages. You get hooked easily in the first chapter. In the first few pages, the author presents you with a man's corpse. We don't know his identity, but we quickly learn that his life is shrouded in mystery. By the end of the first chapter, the author has presented us with several important questions. Who is this man? Who killed him? Why did they kill him? How did they kill him?
You read the second chapter. You're presented with many characters who are somehow connected with the man. You get the idea that one of them (or maybe a group of them) hold all the answers. Continuously through the chapter, the author keeps repeating the same questions. Who is this man? Who killed him? Why did they kill him? How did they kill him?
The third chapter introduces more characters. Soon you begin to think that maybe you care more about the characters than the questions the author has posed. But the author is having none of it. He begins to pepper those questions into the body of the chapters now and not just at the end. You are relentlessly forced to confront the same questions. Who is this man? Who killed him? Why did they kill him? How did they kill him?
In the subsequent chapters, you begin to wonder if the author had the end of the book planned when he started. Events are muddled and characters act strangely. You read an interview with the author in which he assures you that he's known the ending all along. He promises that if you just trust him, you will know the answers to all the questions he has posed. He's been a good writer so far, so you trust him. You go back to pondering the questions. Who is this man? Who killed him? Why did they kill him? How did they kill him?
Finally you near the end of the book. There are a few subplots that begin to be wrapped up and answered. At the end of every paragraph you are promised by some character (or the narrator) that soon you will know the answers to all the questions. Who is this man? Who killed him? Why did they kill him? How did they kill him?
You have arrived at the end. You hold your breath and turn to the final page. You are about to have the answers you've been promised for so long. You rest your eyes upon the final page and see...
A picture of a rabbit with a pancake on its head.
You blink in surprise. This wasn't at all what you'd expected. Underneath the picture, you find the last words of the book. They read: "It turns out the answers to those questions weren't that important after all. Instead, enjoy the knowledge that this bunny lives in a happy home and gets plenty of carrots every day."
Now imagine it took you SIX YEARS to read that book.
And just for argument's sake, imagine that when you first started reading the book a bunch of people had posted online saying, "I bet they never answer anything and at the end we just get a picture of a bunny." The author didn't take that well and responded in many interviews saying, "I can assure you that we'll answer everything and there will definitely not be a picture of a bunny at the end." After you read the final chapter you send the author an email saying, "But I thought you said they were wrong about the bunny picture." The author replies, "Well, technically that's true. They didn't say it would be a picture of a bunny with a pancake on its head."
You sit and stare at the closed book and wonder how to feel about all this. You might have liked the bunny ending if only the author hadn't persisted with those damned questions. You liked most of the book. It was a fun read and full of good characters. But when you view the story as a whole, you can't help but feel cheated and lied to by the author.
There you have it, guys. Now you know what it's like to be a Lost fan today.
So indulge me in a hypothetical...
Imagine you love murder mysteries. You start reading a book that is touted as the great murder mystery of the ages. You get hooked easily in the first chapter. In the first few pages, the author presents you with a man's corpse. We don't know his identity, but we quickly learn that his life is shrouded in mystery. By the end of the first chapter, the author has presented us with several important questions. Who is this man? Who killed him? Why did they kill him? How did they kill him?
You read the second chapter. You're presented with many characters who are somehow connected with the man. You get the idea that one of them (or maybe a group of them) hold all the answers. Continuously through the chapter, the author keeps repeating the same questions. Who is this man? Who killed him? Why did they kill him? How did they kill him?
The third chapter introduces more characters. Soon you begin to think that maybe you care more about the characters than the questions the author has posed. But the author is having none of it. He begins to pepper those questions into the body of the chapters now and not just at the end. You are relentlessly forced to confront the same questions. Who is this man? Who killed him? Why did they kill him? How did they kill him?
In the subsequent chapters, you begin to wonder if the author had the end of the book planned when he started. Events are muddled and characters act strangely. You read an interview with the author in which he assures you that he's known the ending all along. He promises that if you just trust him, you will know the answers to all the questions he has posed. He's been a good writer so far, so you trust him. You go back to pondering the questions. Who is this man? Who killed him? Why did they kill him? How did they kill him?
Finally you near the end of the book. There are a few subplots that begin to be wrapped up and answered. At the end of every paragraph you are promised by some character (or the narrator) that soon you will know the answers to all the questions. Who is this man? Who killed him? Why did they kill him? How did they kill him?
You have arrived at the end. You hold your breath and turn to the final page. You are about to have the answers you've been promised for so long. You rest your eyes upon the final page and see...
A picture of a rabbit with a pancake on its head.
You blink in surprise. This wasn't at all what you'd expected. Underneath the picture, you find the last words of the book. They read: "It turns out the answers to those questions weren't that important after all. Instead, enjoy the knowledge that this bunny lives in a happy home and gets plenty of carrots every day."
Now imagine it took you SIX YEARS to read that book.
And just for argument's sake, imagine that when you first started reading the book a bunch of people had posted online saying, "I bet they never answer anything and at the end we just get a picture of a bunny." The author didn't take that well and responded in many interviews saying, "I can assure you that we'll answer everything and there will definitely not be a picture of a bunny at the end." After you read the final chapter you send the author an email saying, "But I thought you said they were wrong about the bunny picture." The author replies, "Well, technically that's true. They didn't say it would be a picture of a bunny with a pancake on its head."
You sit and stare at the closed book and wonder how to feel about all this. You might have liked the bunny ending if only the author hadn't persisted with those damned questions. You liked most of the book. It was a fun read and full of good characters. But when you view the story as a whole, you can't help but feel cheated and lied to by the author.
There you have it, guys. Now you know what it's like to be a Lost fan today.