Books that make me cry
Jun. 14th, 2006 10:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jmc_bksI'll apologize in advance for any typos or major grammatical errors or non sequitors or lapses in logic. Had drinks this evening with some friends, and I'm feeling buzzed and floaty still.
Marianne McA commented in response to yesterday's post about Rilla of Ingleside that older books have a place closer to her emotions, in the sense that they are more likely to cause tears than other books, like Harry Potter, which also have tragic stuff going on. Which got me to wondering why. I mean, it's the same for me, but I've never stopped to analyze it. I'm wracking my (currently pickled) brain, trying to think of a recently read book that made me cry. I'm stumped. While sad stuff happened in HP5 and HP6, no tears for me; in fact, the death in HP6 was anticipated, first because it was time in terms of the story telling arc of a young hero assuming the hero role upon the death of a teacher, but also because it was time to show the terrible reach of Voldemort close to home to Harry again.
It could be because I first read Rilla as a hormonal teen, and the tears are part reaction to the content and part memory-based. You remember, when you were 13, all kinds of stuff was uber-everything. Reading about Charlie in Alcott's A Rose in Bloom was just sooooo romantic -- you were heartbroken when he died, despite all of the early telegraphing in the story about his eventual end. Or at least I was.
Or maybe it is about expectations. An HEA (sort of) was expected for Rilla and ARIB; I have no expectation of an HEA for Harry Potter in any of books 1-6 (I'm not even sure he'll get one in #7 to tell the truth -- I'm in the "he's going to die" camp).
Or maybe I'm just a heartless wench. That's the one I'm voting for. [Tangent: Actually, I've been told that I come across as having ice water in my veins. Context -- in a conference room with a senior partner and a colleague of his whom I did not know, taking notes, when the colleague confided that his wife had been diagnosed with cancer. I murmured condolences but left it at that, because I didn't know the man or his wife and didn't want to seem too familiar based on a single hour's meeting. Apparently that was not appropriate. After the meeting, I got an earful about being incompassionate and heartless. When I'm the person with bad news in similar situations, I try to keep it to myself and while I thank people for condolences, I would prefer not to blurt my personal stuff out to strangers. ETA: somehow, writing it on LJ for all the world to read is different. Consistent? Not really, but there's the anonymity of the 'net at work.
Off to drink a glass of water and take an aspirin to prevent any lingering headache in the morning.
Marianne McA commented in response to yesterday's post about Rilla of Ingleside that older books have a place closer to her emotions, in the sense that they are more likely to cause tears than other books, like Harry Potter, which also have tragic stuff going on. Which got me to wondering why. I mean, it's the same for me, but I've never stopped to analyze it. I'm wracking my (currently pickled) brain, trying to think of a recently read book that made me cry. I'm stumped. While sad stuff happened in HP5 and HP6, no tears for me; in fact, the death in HP6 was anticipated, first because it was time in terms of the story telling arc of a young hero assuming the hero role upon the death of a teacher, but also because it was time to show the terrible reach of Voldemort close to home to Harry again.
It could be because I first read Rilla as a hormonal teen, and the tears are part reaction to the content and part memory-based. You remember, when you were 13, all kinds of stuff was uber-everything. Reading about Charlie in Alcott's A Rose in Bloom was just sooooo romantic -- you were heartbroken when he died, despite all of the early telegraphing in the story about his eventual end. Or at least I was.
Or maybe it is about expectations. An HEA (sort of) was expected for Rilla and ARIB; I have no expectation of an HEA for Harry Potter in any of books 1-6 (I'm not even sure he'll get one in #7 to tell the truth -- I'm in the "he's going to die" camp).
Or maybe I'm just a heartless wench. That's the one I'm voting for. [Tangent: Actually, I've been told that I come across as having ice water in my veins. Context -- in a conference room with a senior partner and a colleague of his whom I did not know, taking notes, when the colleague confided that his wife had been diagnosed with cancer. I murmured condolences but left it at that, because I didn't know the man or his wife and didn't want to seem too familiar based on a single hour's meeting. Apparently that was not appropriate. After the meeting, I got an earful about being incompassionate and heartless. When I'm the person with bad news in similar situations, I try to keep it to myself and while I thank people for condolences, I would prefer not to blurt my personal stuff out to strangers. ETA: somehow, writing it on LJ for all the world to read is different. Consistent? Not really, but there's the anonymity of the 'net at work.
Off to drink a glass of water and take an aspirin to prevent any lingering headache in the morning.
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Two things...
Date: 2006-06-15 11:29 am (UTC)2. I'll test the adolescent theory by reading Rilla again and seeing if I cry...but then again, I cried a little even reading Anderson Cooper's book, so perhaps I'm not the best judge!
Re: Two things...
Date: 2006-06-15 12:08 pm (UTC)