Emotional, Not Just Depressing

I've had several students recently ask me "Why does everything we read in English have to be so depressing?"

Good question, gentle reader. But let's clarify the terms. Let's demand specificity, because that is precisely what our authors expect of us (remember, Blake told us that "to generalize is to be an idiot"). Instead of leaning on depressing as our umbrella term, let us instead consider the alternative emotional.

We will quickly find that emotional is more apt. I don't necessarily seek out depression in my reading, but I do need to be moved. Not merely entertained, but moved. Great literature lends itself to pockets of high emotionality. It isn't just that Holden is so damn depress-ed/ing; it is that even though he is, he still loves his sister unconditionally. And it isn't quite so important that Ros and Guil die(?) in the end of their play; it is much more important that we-as-audience are rooting against their demise and, therefore in the process, holding fast to our own humanity. Also, it isn't quite about the fact that Beowulf dies; it is that he (or anyone) cannot become legend until he (anyone) first stops moving. Of course Beowulf needs to die. Are facts depressing?

Make no mistake, I love happy endings. And, I am not a literary snob. I love reading fun and funny things. I love good guys winning well. I fell in love with Tolkien's epic quest, and I revisit it now and then because I know that it turns out okay in the end. But even this tale has sacrifice also, has darkness also. Because that's what great literature has: goodness, sacrifice, darkness. Parceled out in pieces. Jigsawing, jockeying, juxtaposing for footing in our hearts and minds.

I don't read McCarthy because I want to see the evidence of the deepest pits of hell on earth. Yikes. But when I read McCarthy, I am reminded of just how the abyss looks from where I am seated, and just how close it can sometimes be. And then I look around again and smile, because it's just a book, no matter how close to real life--on any plane--it strikes.

That is the glory of reading, yes? The smile just after.