On Funerals
Aug. 13th, 2009 10:45 amFuneral cliches. The cold day, the heavy clouds and the thick wet air, taps in the distance and muffled sobs close by as the mourners (in fluttering black dresses and staid black suits) stand on the sere grass and watch the black coffin lower forevermore into the ground.
Also, graveside oaths of vengeance, and characters who fling themselves on the verdant grass (months after the funeral, when they've finally had time to process their grief) in front of the grave, and weep as though their hearts would break. (What? Their hearts aren't broken already?)
All worth avoiding. But there are others, more pernicious, which I hereby bequeath unto you.
First - the fact that the characters always seem to be angry about death. And not just a little angry, but so angry at the entire world that they can't conceive of feeling grief or fear, or sympathy for any of their fellow mourners. Obviously the fellow mourners aren't sad enough; otherwise they would want to rip the world to shreds for this injustice, too.
I'm sure there are people who do respond to death with overriding anger, but not everyone does. Why don't characters experience sorrow, or fear? Are these things improperly heroic? All the best people are so solipsistic that they can't get over the fact that the universe (revolving around them as it does) could hurt them so unfairly?
I suspect that the first person who wrote a hero who was angry instead of grieved felt pretty innovative - just think of all those nineteenth-century death scenes with buckets of tears, you know? - simmering fury is so much more exciting! Except when everyone responds to death with simmering fury, at which point it becomes cliche and boring. Esmeralda just lashed out at everyone who tried to comfort her! Oh, yawn.
Cliches are easy, and this is one that I've never seen warned against in writing books or online, so it's not like anyone will be on guard against it.
And speaking of comforting - of course Of course nothing anyone says at a funeral will make it all better. Someone has died; the world has changed irrevocably; of course "I'm sorry" won't make anyone feel better, because nothing would.
I have a real pet peeve about characters who can't handle people saying "I'm sorry" when they hear that so-and-so has died. "Why are you sorry? It's not like you killed him," snaps Esmeralda, arms clenched across her chest, her jaw set.
In this instance, "I'm sorry" isn't an apology. It's a condensed version of "I love you and I'm sorry you're hurting," which would be embarrassing to say in public.
And where is Esmeralda getting enough energy for all this unreconstructed hostility, anyone? She's supposed to be devastated; and if she's absolutely devastated she probably isn't going to have energy to waste being angry at all the people who come to the funeral. She probably will barely have energy to notice them, let alone fly off her clock because of their inoffensive attempts to make her feel better.
And lastly? Those five stages of grief? If I can see Esmeralda walking up them like a staircase, you're doing it wrong.
***
Sorry about that. Here's are some pictures that delighted me: surrealist pictures from a children's book, Imagine a Day. They're reminiscent of Escher, except full color, and without the sometimes creepy edge of Escher.
Also, graveside oaths of vengeance, and characters who fling themselves on the verdant grass (months after the funeral, when they've finally had time to process their grief) in front of the grave, and weep as though their hearts would break. (What? Their hearts aren't broken already?)
All worth avoiding. But there are others, more pernicious, which I hereby bequeath unto you.
First - the fact that the characters always seem to be angry about death. And not just a little angry, but so angry at the entire world that they can't conceive of feeling grief or fear, or sympathy for any of their fellow mourners. Obviously the fellow mourners aren't sad enough; otherwise they would want to rip the world to shreds for this injustice, too.
I'm sure there are people who do respond to death with overriding anger, but not everyone does. Why don't characters experience sorrow, or fear? Are these things improperly heroic? All the best people are so solipsistic that they can't get over the fact that the universe (revolving around them as it does) could hurt them so unfairly?
I suspect that the first person who wrote a hero who was angry instead of grieved felt pretty innovative - just think of all those nineteenth-century death scenes with buckets of tears, you know? - simmering fury is so much more exciting! Except when everyone responds to death with simmering fury, at which point it becomes cliche and boring. Esmeralda just lashed out at everyone who tried to comfort her! Oh, yawn.
Cliches are easy, and this is one that I've never seen warned against in writing books or online, so it's not like anyone will be on guard against it.
And speaking of comforting - of course Of course nothing anyone says at a funeral will make it all better. Someone has died; the world has changed irrevocably; of course "I'm sorry" won't make anyone feel better, because nothing would.
I have a real pet peeve about characters who can't handle people saying "I'm sorry" when they hear that so-and-so has died. "Why are you sorry? It's not like you killed him," snaps Esmeralda, arms clenched across her chest, her jaw set.
In this instance, "I'm sorry" isn't an apology. It's a condensed version of "I love you and I'm sorry you're hurting," which would be embarrassing to say in public.
And where is Esmeralda getting enough energy for all this unreconstructed hostility, anyone? She's supposed to be devastated; and if she's absolutely devastated she probably isn't going to have energy to waste being angry at all the people who come to the funeral. She probably will barely have energy to notice them, let alone fly off her clock because of their inoffensive attempts to make her feel better.
And lastly? Those five stages of grief? If I can see Esmeralda walking up them like a staircase, you're doing it wrong.
***
Sorry about that. Here's are some pictures that delighted me: surrealist pictures from a children's book, Imagine a Day. They're reminiscent of Escher, except full color, and without the sometimes creepy edge of Escher.
no subject
Date: 2009-08-13 05:38 pm (UTC)If Esmerelda has no stairs, how is she going to get to the second story? :(((
no subject
Date: 2009-08-13 09:25 pm (UTC)Although it is a good question. Esmeralda is quite concerned that she might miss out on her sequel.
no subject
Date: 2009-08-14 02:53 am (UTC)misspentyouth.Don't worry, Esmerelda. All you have to do is make a bet that you can get Quinn, the gorgeous but antisocial motorcycle repair shop owner, to fall in love with you. Hijinx are guaranteed to ensue.
no subject
Date: 2009-08-13 06:42 pm (UTC)and i definitely agree with you about how people shouldn't write death, especially when they forget to include the main character's for other mourners.
no subject
Date: 2009-08-14 03:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-14 03:38 am (UTC)...hopefully i made sense this time!
no subject
Date: 2009-08-14 04:10 am (UTC)And while it does make sense that someone in the throes of grief might not notice the other mourners, lacking compassion like that isn't an admirable or heroic trait; it undermines Esmeralda's heroism (especially if one of her big virtues is supposed to be kindness).
no subject
Date: 2009-08-14 03:36 pm (UTC)