No, not of the world, or even of this blog. I've just been thinking about the HEA (Happy Ever After) again. Recently Bookworm, a poster
at AAR, commented that
I see no reason why the romance genre shouldn't aspire to greatness, rather than settling for mere goodness. Some romances have come close, oh so close, but it's the very predictability that underwhelms me. I don't believe other genre fictions (sci-fi for instance) have such strict ending requirements or required formula.
But, hey, I understand many people like the safeness and the predictability of the guaranteed happy ever after. But when I open a book I really don't want to know what's on the last page until I get there.
We've had discussions about the HEA on this blog in the past, but the following quotation
from Jenny Crusie is one of the best explanations I've seen so far of why knowing the ending in advance isn't a problem for romance readers, and why it doesn't automatically lead to 'predictability':
Some readers go to the end of the book and read that immediately because they need to know it’s going to end okay. If they’re reassured, they start at the beginning. But if they already know what’s going to happen, why do they bother?
Because while the climax is the pay-off, it’s not the reason people read story. They read story for the journey, to experience what the protagonist experiences, and by doing so, share in her or his triumph or fall at the end.
And as for Bookworm's statement that 'I don't believe other genre fictions (sci-fi for instance) have such strict ending requirements':
If you’re writing a romance novel, the expectation that the hero and heroine will be together at the end had better be fulfilled. If you’re writing a mystery, the detective better find out who did it at the end. If you’re writing horror, the Thing Under the Bed better turn out to be real and lethal, not just somebody’s hallucination. But those are the big genre expectations. Within your story, you can play with expectation as long as you keep the plot moves logical and motivated. (Crusie 2007)
The picture is of a keyboard's end key, from Wikipedia.
No, not of the world, or even of this blog. I've just been thinking about the HEA (Happy Ever After) again. Recently Bookworm, a poster at AAR, commented that 
I always like waht Jenny Crusie has to say. SHe is clear and smart no doubt. I also like the HEA, formulaic or organically grown. Et, I am reminded here about what Heidegger once said: "As soon as a human being is born, she is old enough to die right away." In one sense, perhaps, we are always reading backwards. We can start with the HEA, which does comfort us--and perhaps covers over the grave? Or we can start with our death --and work backwards from there.
ReplyDeleteYes, I'd thought of the comparison with life too, though I was hesitant to mention it because we'd already gone all philosophical and eschatological in the recent comments about my post on gender and otherness and having written rather a lot about death already, I'm a bit wary of appearing obsessed with the topic. ;-)
ReplyDeleteMy angle on death and the HEA was similar to yours, but a little bit different because I was thinking of the phrase mors certa, hora incerta (death is certain, the hour of death is uncertain). In other words, as for many types of genre fiction, we all know the ending, it's the details of how and when we get there that are important.
Stories -- like life -- are about the journey, not the destination. I can grok that. :)
ReplyDeleteBut whether the story ends with the HEA or not, it's about the taste the resolution leaves in my mouth.
Some HEA endings are terrible, so anti-climactic and pointless that it's like the entire book was wasted. Because in some way it IS about the ending, but it's about the way the ending is constructed and presented, rather than the mere existence of the ending.
ReplyDeletePam Regis claims in her The Natural History of the Romance that it's the process of reaching the ending that is the "real" reason people read romances. That is, the point of ritual death, where the HEA seems impossible, is as important to the story as the HEA itself. This is where general dissatisfaction with the One True Mate paranormal romances come from. If they're destined for each other and recognize each other right away, then the point of ritual death has to come from external sources (killer on the loose) rather than internal conflict, and that's much less satisfying for most romance readers.
I'd argue that SF/F books don't have distinct endings because of the tendency to serialize the books. But by the end of the series, there had better be a satisfying ending. The worst book I ever read was Anne Rice's The Witching Hour that seemed a brilliantly-plotted and -written, sensuous, fascinating book, until the very end (of a very large book), where she totally set it up for a sequel and didn't finish the damn story. I was livid and I've never read another Rice again. It would have been a brilliant book but it didn't have an ending and therefore was awful.
Then again, I also don't like jazz, because it doesn't have a narrative. I turn on my local jazz station, and I have no idea where I am in the song (beginning/middle/end/chorus/whatever) and I can't stand that.
I don't see why a "predictable" ending makes romances less brilliant, less great. If you want disappointment, read Suzanne Brockmann, who gives one HEA to one non-HEA of secondary plot. Why is throwing yourself under a train, eating arsenic, or living the rest of your life with a letter sweater (thank you, Jenny) any more "great" than an HEA? I really really don't get that.
The best romances, for me, are those that can make me sweat every single time I read them, even though I've read them before, because the point of ritual death and the HEA are so emotionally packed. Pride and Prejudice, but more Persuasion, which are nothing if not romances. Hell, Persuasion is that much more brilliant because we've got an original, boring HEA and the published, rewritten, stunning HEA in which Anne and Wentworth both put themselves on the line in ways that are so brave, it takes my breath away. Laura Kinsale's Seize the Fire and For My Lady's Heart--that scene with the mirror is stunning in its complexity. SEP's Heaven, Texas gets me every time. Georgette Heyer's Venetia is brilliant for reasons similar to Persuasion. It is the power in the variation of the "predicatable" ending that makes specific romances brilliant and that keeps drawing me back to the genre day after day.
I used to fall for the argument that it was about the journey, too, until I realized that this all made more sense to me when I used the fan fiction "what if" motivation as a way to explain what worked and what didn't. In fandoms, the "what if" is the trigger that sparks the stories that get turned into fan fiction. Oddly enough, the great majority of those in most fandoms - movies, TV, literature, whatever - are sparked by "incomplete" HEA for romances. Uh, duh.
ReplyDeleteSo, I've said it before and I'll say it again, a good ending is one that I don't feel the immediate but "what if" for because it was just wrong. Or incomplete. Or whatever.
Journey, my eye. I can love the journey, but when all is said and done, they better get where they were supposed to have gotten to. And it better be some place I like.
Judgemental? Sure. But you know what? It's the genre I've chosen to read and I do have certain expectations. And weirdly enough, I can honestly say I rarely if ever have that "what if" impulse in response to romance novels. So you figure it out.
OK, so to summarise the points made by R, Sarah and Bev, romance readers like the HEA but we'll only think it's a good ending if the journey makes that HEA believable, so there are 3 essential stages:
ReplyDelete(1) The 'journey' in a romance novel has to show the reader that the couple really are good together, that they really love each other and that the relationship is strong.
(2) At the point where the journey meets the HEA, there should be no disconnect, in other words, the characters shouldn't have a sudden personality change at the end in order for that to happen. Similarly, as Sarah says, the ending won't be very convincing emotionally for the reader if there's a deus ex machina solution e.g. magic, or a soul-mate set-up which somehow gets round the characters' free will and glues the characters together in a HEA that the reader feels they wouldn't have chosen had it not been for the magic.
And (3) as it's a Happy Ever After, it shouldn't leave anyone feeling 'what if' because if the ending is right for the characters and the story, it should be 'emotionally satisfying' so the reader won't be wondering about other possibilities, or thinking that there could have been a better way for the novel to end.
Does that sound about right?
I say this a lot: What Laura said. (Maybe we should get little stickers to stick on romance novels: WWLS? Kinda like the WWND? for What Would Nora Do? that the Smart Bitches want to get.
ReplyDeleteI agree with Bev that the actual ending is actually important, but I like Laura's three requirements, because it is also about the journey. There are certainly unsatisfying romances with HEA that don't work because they don't meet one of the other requirements of the HEA Journey. Maybe it should be renamed: HEA Journey or Journey to HEA. Get both components in there.
Well, don't get me wrong, I have to like or at least "enjoy" the journey the author takes them on, too. If I don't, no matter how ecstatic the author makes them at the end, I'm not going to be happy with the book ultimately. It is a balance of the whole, not just a just one over the other.
ReplyDeleteBUT, having said that, never, ever sell the ending of a romance short. Period. Because it can ruin the entire thing. Flat out. In one stroke of the pen.
As to the destined soulmate/one true mate thing, I read a lot of those and like them. A lot. I think it is a very misunderstood plot device in romances, too.
A lot of readers don't like it, though, and I think I understand why because it's been my observation that they generally tend to be readers who like their romance "undiluted" by outside plots. In other words, they like the romance to be the main plot. Many times the ONLY major plot in the book.
I don't. I tend to like romances where there are other plots besides the romance going on. Sometimes mysteries, sometimes fantasies, sometimes science fiction, whatever. When that is happening, the soul mate device can be a very nice shortcut way to establish a relationship between the couple in the midst of outside chaos.
Does this mean that they still don't have to work at the relationship? No, it simply means that they aren't allowed to conveniently ignore things that a lot of couples do in a lot of romances. There is a lot less room for those big misunderstandings. Those big separations. And, frankly, for those last two I'd put up with any shortfalls of soulmates forever, let me tell you. :D
Sure, I don't deny there are some disadvantages. I just haven't ever figured out exactly what they are. I guess because I do enjoy them so much. Just my two cents.
Sarah, if a WWLS sticker were ever made, either my head would swell to vast proportions or I'd shrivel from embarrassment ;-)
ReplyDeleteDoes this mean that they still don't have to work at the relationship? No, it simply means that they aren't allowed to conveniently ignore things that a lot of couples do in a lot of romances. There is a lot less room for those big misunderstandings. Those big separations
BB, you make the point that the couple who are soul mates 'still [..] have to work at the relationship' and I think that's key. In that case the author is making an effort to show that the two really are soul-mates. What I think would be problematic would be if the characters didn't have any chemistry together (or they spent a lot of time hating each other) and then the soul mates solution was given. That would feel lazy and unconvincing to me, because the permanence of the relationship would only be due to the magic of the soul-mate bond; it would be a case of telling, not showing, that this was a good relationship.
I'm not a fan of big misunderstandings in the course of the novel (they tend to suggest the protagonists have a problem communicating with and/or trusting each other). I'm also not keen on 'I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, oh, I've changed my mind, now I love you' scenarios. They tend to leave me unconvinced that the journey really leads to the HEA. For any of these plots to work there has to be some real, believable change in the characters to guarantee they're not going to fall back into their old pattern of behaviour.
Long separations and misunderstandings can work sometimes, for example if they happened in the past when the couple were much younger. Austen's Persuasion is a good example of that sort of plot.
I actually find the Soul Mate plot annoying when there's no annoyances between the couple, nothing the work for or against or through. It's just, "Wow, you're hot. We're meant to be together. No, really. Let's fuck." That makes me think that the author is being lazy and just not giving them any character. That's why I stopped reading Christine Feehan -- they all started sounding the same. I think JR Ward, on the other hand, does a really good job of making them work through problems and issues, work FOR the relationship, even with the "She. Comes. With. Me." aspect of it.
ReplyDeleteBev, I think you're right, but I also think that the journey can make up for a not brilliant ending. Kinsale's Seize the Fire is like that for me. I needed the ending to go on for another page or so, but she ended it really abruptly. But the rest of it had been so satisfying that I was mostly okay with it and still rank it as one of my favorite books.
I'm probably the only one --
ReplyDelete-- but I don't see the couple ultimately being together [once all obstacles have been overcome] as an 'ending' of any kind, but rather as another leg of the same journey.
Silly me, I keep seeing everything in a philosophical light.
No, you're not the only one, R. The romance novel is about the characters' journey towards commitment to each other, overcoming the obstacles in their way. The HEA isn't the end of their lives, it's just the end of that particular story arc, and some readers like to know more of the details about what happens next. I think that's why epilogues (and ongoing series in which characters from previous romances reappear) are so popular.
ReplyDeleteThe idea that the ending isn't really an ending is expressed in the epilogue to Susan Elizabeth Philips' Kiss an Angel the final words are
Heather started being embarrassed for both of them, except that she was kind of crying too, because she liked happy endings.
Then she realized it wasn't an ending at all. As she gazed around at all these people she loved, she knew that everybody here was just getting started.' (2006: 372-373)
Phillips, Susan Elizabeth, 2006. Kiss an Angel (London: Piatkus).
Bev, I think you're right, but I also think that the journey can make up for a not brilliant ending. Kinsale's Seize the Fire is like that for me. I needed the ending to go on for another page or so, but she ended it really abruptly. But the rest of it had been so satisfying that I was mostly okay with it and still rank it as one of my favorite books.
ReplyDeleteAh, but a not so brilliant ending or even an abrupt one is absolutely not the same thing as as a bad or horrible one, i.e. a NOT happy ending or a most definite unhappily ever after. Completely different animals. Apples and oranges and all that. Hey, I can be happy with the first on great journeys, too, but give me the latter and I'll be seriously rethinking the entire point of why I even bothered WITH the journey in the first place.
See the difference? It's about messing with the romance readers minds at your own peril. Sort of akin to messing with Mother Nature. We don't like it. We get snitty. It's a quirk. What can I say? ;p
No, seriously, it's just part of the personality of the genre as it has evolved. One can rail against it but it still exists that that's what the majority of the readers expect. If they didn't, it wouldn't be a humongous characteristic of the genre. They want that happy ending. Deny them at your peril and they will go dig somewhere else until they find it. Publishers ain't that stupid. ;)
Now, as to why that need exists, I can't say except to go back to my own need to rewrite any "bad endings" and admit that there's that urge to fix them. I honestly don't feel that urge when they're "good" endings. So, maybe, on a philosophical level it goes back to some female drive preserve life and survive, a la the creation myths. Of which romance are decidedly decended.
Only in most cases, in male dominated storytelling, endings don't always have happy outcomes even in creation myths. So, maybe this need is again our way of defending our "turf" and snapping and snarling at anyone who dares to try to take it back. Who knows.
I really don't care. I just want happy endings to romances. :D
as to why that need exists, I can't say except to go back to my own need to rewrite any "bad endings" and admit that there's that urge to fix them. I honestly don't feel that urge when they're "good" endings. So, maybe, on a philosophical level it goes back to some female drive preserve life and survive
ReplyDeletePamela Regis, in her A Natural History of the Romance Novel suggests that romances are in the same tradition as Greek comedy and that's why tragic endings just don't fit. Most/all of the ancient Greek and Roman playwrights were male, so the distinction that developed then between tragedy and comedy had nothing to do with gender.
I suspect that mentally re-writing endings to make them 'happy' is something that both men and women do. For example, I've overheard quite a lot of conversations between men in which they explain, at length, how their team would and should have won the match, if only....
A bit late here, but a comment.
ReplyDeleteTo me, the happy ending isn't the goal, it's the promise of the reward, which is why it can't be momentary. (I read one book where the couple found each other, were deliriously happy, but pretty clearly likely to die soon because they were still in a mess. Er... no.)
I call it the triumphant ending, and that requires a lasting achievement. In other genres it can be fame and glory, even posthumously, but in a romance the prize the couple have worked and suffered for is a life together -- a good, rich, rewarding life together.
As I see it,
Jo Beverley
(I tried to use my google/blogger account, but that's giving me conniptions.)
I agree, Jo. A happy ending which won't last long isn't really happy. Earlier this year Sarah posted about this, saying that she likes 'happy endings to extend way beyond the ending of the novel'. I feel the same way. HEA for me may not mean exactly 'for ever' but it has to be as close as is humanly possible. I don't want to imagine those characters dying of the syphilis the hero contracted while still a rake, for example, or the heroine dying in childbirth, or the hero being shot in the course of his next spying mission.
ReplyDeleteIt's not that it all has to be spelled out in a long epilogue (in fact, some epilogues can by cloyingly sweet with the hero and heroine clearly still passionately attracted to each other and surrounded by their 15 delightful offspring, a couple of charming dogs and a doting wider family - OK, I'm exaggerating a little) but a general feeling that the relationship is going to be a long and happy one is what I'm looking for.
I have no trouble with being a bit philosophical here—although I’m not promising any clarity. . .
ReplyDeleteI wonder if happy endings are really about permanent resolution, but rather more about how good choices lead not to just the pleasure of the HEA, but also allow the possibility of continuation (of life, happiness, and the narrative). With Antigone, Mme Bovary, or Anna Karenina (to name a few of those classic tragedies that everyone knows and loves), the situation is resolved in a permanent way for both the protagonists and narrative. Antigone, Emma, and Anna have all bit the dust, there is no possible new story arc or new journey for these particular heroines (unless you want to do a Dante and imagine their journeys in the afterlife). Future possibilities and continuations are categorically closed off to the protagonists in tragedies. And of the course death—whose finality is inescapable—becomes the perfect plot device to express this closing off possibility and choice.
Perhaps in one sense HEA is about closure—after all you have to be able to believe that the H/H belong together, that their relationship makes sense and is satisfying—but I also think it is also important you believe in the possibility of relationship’s continuation beyond the boundaries of the book as others have noted. As Laura mentions a good HEA ending is not really an ending but an opening to new narratives, new journeys for the H/H. The HEA resists, I think, tragedy’s insistence on finality and the closing of narrative. It’s difficult to imagine the continuing adventures of Romeo and Juliet, but it is possible to imagine the continuing adventures of Elizabeth and Darcy (whether these adventures are well-written or not is another topic). A good HEA I think gives you pleasure in part because it allows to imagine and believe in the possibility of continuation, but also as I think everyone has noted it allows you to believe that this continuation will be one of pleasurable possibilities (you really can buy it that the H/H have triumphed and will reap the reward of a good, satisfying life together). Poor HEAs lead to what ifs—where you end up not imagining the continuation of the narrative, but rather rewriting the original narrative so that it will end in way you like. (So poor HEAs are oddly like tragedies—the only way you could imagine continuing adventures for Romeo and Juliet is by rewriting the play so that results are changed.)
So what I think I’m going for here is some sort of a flip side to the Heidegger quotation ("As soon as a human being is born, she is old enough to die right away”). Heidegger is already placing the emphasis on the foreclosing of possibility. HEA and romances in general certainly can be seen as “covering the grave” (I love that phrase!)—and certainly those who have decried the genre often take this position to extreme and argue that romances are “escapist” literature that sugar-coats the harsh conditions of reality and drugs women into submission. But the argument is also made that great literature, art, music is about creating situations that move humans beyond the harsh conditions of reality and transcend the finality of death. So that means romances could be seen as keeping mighty elite company. But I think more is going here than this—romances with their HEAs are not just in denial—I think HEA is in fact to certain extent resisting/challenging this dominant position that life is about death—that the focus should be on the fact that death is the inescapable reality of the human condition. From this position the HEA isn’t so much about denial and escape from reality, but rather about affirming the importance of imagination, creation, possibility and continuation.
Well this is long enough and I hope interesting enough.
A first time poster--KT
Welcome, KT!
ReplyDeleteI think HEA is in fact to certain extent resisting/challenging this dominant position that life is about death—that the focus should be on the fact that death is the inescapable reality of the human condition. From this position the HEA isn’t so much about denial and escape from reality, but rather about affirming the importance of imagination, creation, possibility and continuation.
I wonder if all the pregnant heroines, secret babies and epilogues about happy families could be read as a metaphor for the affirmation of 'creation, possibility and continuation'? Like I said, sometimes it can be overdone, and taken literally there are times when the number of births perhaps suggests that motherhood is an essential and inevitable outcome for a 'good woman', but read metaphorically it would seem to fit in well with the philosophical attitude you're describing.