On happy endings, and why they depress me

I got up in a right mardy mood this morning, for one reason and one reason only, I’d been reading in bed and the book I was reading had not just one, but several, happy endings.

I admit that I rarely read anything very heavy going or serious, (not for pleasure anyway, I’m not counting OU text books).  I do sometimes read travel books or biographies but mainly I read chick lit and the sort of books that I think are called aga sagas.  Life is too serious as it is, I want to read something light-hearted, maybe funny, a bit of romance, something ‘feel good’.  Over the years I have learnt all kinds of things from reading these books, if they are well researched and well written they can be very informative.  I have gleaned little bits of knowledge about the wine industry, the fur trade, journalism, the world of legal eagles and much more.  I have taken in little snippets of information about London, New York, Rome, Paris and various other cities throughout the world.

I have to say though that I get really cheesed off with happy endings, they just don’t give me that ‘feel good’ feeling.  The book I was reading today had several little sub stories going on within the main storyline.  It featured three sisters and their relationships.  In the course of the book one sister had an affair, one sister was widowed and the final sister discovered that her husband was cheating on her.  By the final page each sister had her own happy ending.  The one that had the affair, and almost lost her job in the process, kept her job and her husband.  Both the widowed sister and the cheated on sister found new men, each of them more perfect than the men they had lost.  The only person who wasn’t going on to live happily ever after was the husband that had cheated, he lost his new love, his career, and most of his money; but even that was a sort of happy ending, ‘cos it’s what you wanted to happen to him.

Why did it depress me?  It made me look at my own life.  When will I get my happy ending?  When will my Prince Charming turn up?  However it also made me think how many of these books have happy endings based on boy meeting girl and living happily ever after.  Let’s have a happy ending that involves someone realising that single life is fab, independence is great, and that the way to a happy ending is six years of studying and a degree….oh, perhaps that’s my answer.

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2 Responses to On happy endings, and why they depress me

  1. Becky says:

    Hello

    I wrote some “chick lit” last year and I think that, at the time, I was thinking of it as a commercial enterprise so I’m aware that this may have informed the ending which, I hope, has a twist even if it is on the happier side. I’m publishing it on my blog, chapter by chapter. Who knows, you may just have convinced me to change the ending? But I hate editing. Damn!

    You’re right though, Vivienne – we do need to read (or write!) something a bit more realistic that realises the power of us as individuals, without needing to be part of a conventional couple. After all, that’s how we live our lifes, right?

    Enjoying your blog, just found you x

  2. thanks for reading, and for commenting. comments always welcome. i suspect most people love a happy ending, i doubt you need to edit

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