Tragedy and Maturity

I noticed a disturbing trend today while looking at online reviews of the book I've just started, Jane Smiley's A Thousand Acres. It's a retelling of King Lear set in 1970s farm country, and I've been wanting to read it ever since Don Foster recommended it to me during our time with Lear in Shakespeare class last year.

So I'm looking through the reviews and I realize that there are a pretty large proportion of people who simply disliked the book BECAUSE IT WAS A TRAGEDY. Here's a sampling of these views:

"I thought it was on [sic] okay story at first, but then it got SO tragic that it depressed me and I was sorry I'd ever read it."

" I didn't know it was a tragedy when I started it... kinda wish I had. Smiley is a brilliant novelist. The book gripped me, but in the end, the story itself was a little bit too tragic for me."

" i didn't realize it was a tragedy until the moment it became one, and then i didn't like it anymore."

Okay, first of all: IT'S KING LEAR. If you didn't realize that this book was gonna be pretty sad, you're a moron.

Second of all— um, what's with the dislike for tragedy? Aren't some of the best stories sad ones?

I find this to be part of a weird, pseudo-delusional trend in American thought: the idea that positive thinking is the best way to bring about happiness, and the idea that happiness itself is the most important thing to possess. It occurred to me while I was watching a recent episode of America's Top Model, if I am to be completely honest.

In that episode, one of the girls is a European, and she explains that in Europe, you're generally expected to be realistic. There isn't any of this "I can do it!" or "If I believe it myself, it will happen!" bullcrap— they just rationally consider whether or not they possess the right skills and qualities to do what they want to do, and if not they move on. And when the American girls began attacking this girl as "negative", I became really annoyed, because all they did was repeat stupid, passé mantras like "If you don't believe in yourself, who will?" and "If you want it badly enough, it'll happen."

No, it won't, kids. I'm a little concerned about the shiny-happy personas we're cultivating in people today. I see all these kids here say things like "I'm going to be an NFL lineman when I graduate from high school, and everyone says I can do it if I just believe in myself!" And I think, sweetie, there's no way in hell you're going to be an NFL lineman— you're dinky and frail and you're probably not going to get much taller than 5' 4''. If you just faced reality, maybe you could find something else you enjoy. Instead, though, the "power of positive thinking" is going to keep you chasing a stupid dream until it's too late to figure out what else you love in life.

Now, I'm not saying that it's terrible to have dreams and to pursue them— obviously, it's important to cultivate a sense of drive and determination. But I object to the idea with which all American children seem to be raised these days: that you can do ANYTHING simply by wishing for it to occur. That's not true, and it's likely to leave us all frustrated and empty in the long run.

Similarly, I'm disturbed by how many people want to be happy ALL THE TIME. How can you know what happiness is unless you've known real misery? I've been bonebreakingly, heartrenderingly sad before, and that's why I'm so thankful and relieved to be happy right now. Tragedy sews the seeds of comedy, and if you're not actively engaged in one, you can't really enjoy the other, either.

After all, aren't most comedies just tragedies with different endings? Think about Twelfth Night for a second: the situation is ripe for tragedy, with cross-dressing confusion and unrequited lovers and secret passions. How easily the whole thing could have ended in misery, with Viola spurned for her men's garments and the Duke crushed under the weight of his confused emotions. But no— the story ends happily, and we breathe a sigh of relief, but only if we KNOW tragedy was lurking around the corner, only if we have become intimately familiar with the darker side of human nature.

I think an acceptance of, and even a certain level of satisfaction in, tragic storylines comes with maturity. Of course, there are plenty of people who never mature, even as they grow old. I myself know 40-year-olds and 50-year-olds who are completely shallow, who have never been refused what they wanted, who make messes of their lives because no one ever sat them down and gave them a stern talking-to, because they had never bothered to experience variety and substance before.

Tragic storylines can be just as satisfying as comic ones, but only if you're willing to experience a moment of loss, a moment of depth.