By Kevin Paul Tracy
The other day I stumbled across, of all random things things, the old Punk Rock hit, “Turning Japanese.” (“I think I’m turning Japanese. I think I’m turning Japanese. I really think so!“) Before I knew it I was laughing and doing a silly dance there at my desk. It had been ages since I’d heard the thoroughly ridiculous, utterly indulgent song, and I’d forgotten what a catchy beat, toe-tickling melody, and nonsense lyrics it brought to the ear. I found myself completely delighted, my spirits lifted for no other reason than this empty-headed little song. And, as most things do, it got me thinking.
There is a certain snobbery in certain industries, most notably the arts, that summarily dismisses and in almost all cases delights in tearing down and lambasting the simple, the silly, the indulgent. “Turning Japanese” was roundly dismissed as inconsequential and in some cases even detrimental to the library of American music, and yet someone listened to it, enough people to make it, if not a number one hit, then at least a top 40 gem. There was something about it, silly and inconsequential as it might be, that pleased people. They enjoyed listening to it.
I stopped watching the HBO TV series “Game of Thrones” after the so-called “Red Wedding” episode, but only partially because I was disappointed as a viewer. While doing research online I came across several credible quotes by the author of the show who freely admitted he killed off his heroes in ignoble ways to shock and alarm readers/viewers. He didn’t want them to rely on the heroes to save the day, didn’t want fans to relax in the idea that the hero would eventually prevail, that good would eventually defeat evil. Perhaps that is fine for him and for the thousands who still read his books and watch his television program. But it seems to me a cynical focal point around which to pivot a plot. I write because I have a story to tell. I write the story that wants telling. I don’t indulge some disgruntled agenda to manipulate an audience or to make a rhetorical point.
There is an on-gong debate I’ve been following online in British literary circles where the underlying operating assumption is that any book with a happy ending is immediately dismissed as unimportant, puerile, indulgent and of no consequence. Never mind the quality writing that may fill the pages leading up to it, if it ends with the good guys winning then it is summarily dismissed. Forgive me, but such a sweeping displacement strikes me as every bit as shallow as the books themselves supposedly are. Am I wrong? To me, I love reading well written prose. How the story ends is almost immaterial to me, if the intervening story and the skill with which it was written was a joy to experience. Almost, because an arbitrary or manipulative ending can spoil a good tale.
We are all entitled to write what we wish, and if you find an audience, well good God of course more power to you. But I think it wrong to try to shame others for indulging in certain literary palate cleansers such as Louie L’Amour’s westerns, Ian Fleming’s James Bond series, or even Charles Dickens entirely operatic but delightful fiction. There is a reason television shows like Little House on The Prairie, The Gilmore Girls, and today’s Castle run for so many years. No one mistakes them for real life. But there is something simple, silly and pleasing about them to a great many audiences.
While I, myself, prefer a happy ending, I don’t dismiss a book that doesn’t have one. In point of fact I think Stephen King is an American treasure, probably one of the best writers I’ve ever read, and I don’t recall a single one of his books that ended on a totally positive note. So while I prefer one, I can appreciate all. I would never dismiss the hard work of any writer on so slight and arbitrary a criteria as that. I take in the entire work as a whole and take it as it is offered by the storyteller, and judge it on that basis alone.
Something many of you have heard me say many times, and I think it is entirely true: Whether your story has a happy ending or not depends entirely upon where you choose to end your story.
Don’t miss Kevin’s latest releases: the startling and engrossing series of gothic thrillers featuring vampire private detective Kathryn Desmarias, including Bloodflow, and Bloodtrail, the bestselling sequel to Bloodflow; also the wonderfully entertaining espionage thriller, Rogue Agenda.
I so enjoy your thoughtful blogs, Kevin, and this is certainly another one! Thank you for supporting happy — as well as unhappy — endings!