So says a new survey.
Well, “Duh!” But I take issue with the Guardian‘s lede:
A truth which has the downside of keeping many true artists poor in garrets and many false ones rich in mansions was universally acknowledged yesterday.
The implication, of course, is that there is somehow more artistic merit in an unhappy ending than in a happy one, and that Shakespeare’s tragedies (to take just one example) are therefore superior to his comedies.
Balderdash. The worth of a work of literature has nothing to do with the emotional tenor of the ending. What’s important is that the ending be suitable to the particular work being crafted, that it grows naturally out of the structure and tone of the overall novel–that, whether happy or unhappy, it is earned, not merely tacked on.
Hey, I like happy endings in movies, too, but when they’re unearned or even ludicrous, like the ending of Spielberg’s sorry version of The War of the Worlds, far from leaving me satisfied, they leave me flat, or even angry.
But uncalled-for sad endings are just as annoying as tacked-on happy ones. The notion, once again promulgated by the Guardian in the linked article, that sad endings are artistically superior is probably why so much high-school writing (of which I’ve read quite a bit) features car crashes, drug overdoses and fatal illnesses. The mere presence of tragedy does not turn a piece of mediocre writing into a work of art, but neither does the presence of a happy ending turn it into meaningless fluff.
