The Art of Endings: Navigating the Balance Between Realism and Redemption in Narrative

<Spoilers ahead>

In the realm of storytelling, the conclusion of a narrative is a delicate dance between realism and reader satisfaction. Recently, I watched “One Day,” a Netflix series based on David Nicholls’ novel of the same name. The unique premise, exploring one day every year in two individuals’ lives, initially intrigued me. However, as the story unfolded and the 13th episode concluded with the seemingly perfect union of the protagonists, a sudden twist left me disheartened. The death of Emma felt like a cheap ploy, and it spurred reflections on the fine line between realism and the desire for a satisfying ending in fiction.

To have loved and lost vs. never to have loved at all

One Day’s initial charm lies in its non-linear narrative structure, an approach that mirrors the complexities of real-life relationships. As the audience glimpses into the lives of Dexter and Emma on the same day each year, the storytelling device offers a nuanced portrayal of personal and relational evolution. Within this framework, the series flourishes, capturing the ebb and flow of life, love, and personal growth.

The series excels in showcasing the intricacies of human relationships, allowing viewers to witness the characters’ evolution over the years. The concept of revisiting a specific day annually becomes a canvas for exploring the multifaceted nature of love, friendship, and personal development. The unfolding of Dexter and Emma’s connection is a delicately developed punctuated by moments of joy, heartbreak, and self-discovery.

Whether it be movies or books, the appeal of perfect endings is undeniable. We often turn to fiction as escapism, seeking solace and closure that life sometimes denies us. Drawing a comparison with K-dramas, known for their meticulous plotting and satisfying resolutions, highlights the importance of careful storytelling. While K-dramas often deliver on the promise of a harmonious conclusion, it doesn’t mean they lack depth or realism. Instead, they succeed in crafting narratives that seamlessly blend the complexities of life with the comfort of resolution. Works like “Crash Landing on You” and “Goblin” seamlessly weave intricate plots, resolving conflicts in a way that mirrors the utopian ideals of storytelling.

This desire for perfection echoes Aristotle’s concept of catharsis in tragedy, where the audience experiences a purging of emotions through a well-crafted resolution. Classic novels like Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice” exemplify this approach, offering readers the comfort of a happy ending while preserving a sense of reality.

The departure from traditional conclusions aligns with the modernist and postmodernist movements, where ambiguity and open-endedness become tools for exploring existence’s uncertainties. Works like F. Scott Fitzgerald’s “The Great Gatsby” or Kazuo Ishiguro’s “Never Let Me Go” employ narrative choices that defy conventional expectations, allowing for a more nuanced exploration of the human condition.

Returning to “One Day,” the series navigates the complexities of relationships and personal growth, offering a realistic portrayal of life’s challenges. While emotionally jarring, the unexpected turn in the 13th episode mirrors reality’s unpredictability. Yet, the question arises: Does Emma’s death serve a purpose beyond mere shock value?

Contrasting this with the finale of Nicholas Sparks’ “The Notebook,” where the protagonists endure the trials of aging and illness but find solace in each other’s arms, reveals the diverse approaches authors take to conclude their tales of love. While Sparks opts for a more traditional resolution, Nicholls embraces the bittersweet reality of life’s impermanence.

Between realism and redemption, storytellers face the challenge of crafting conclusions that resonate with their audience. While the perfect ending provides comfort, unexpected twists and tragic resolutions mirror the complexities of existence. “One Day” may have left me emotionally unsettled. The series grapples with the consequences of a narrative choice that feels more like a forced shock factor than a genuine exploration of the human experience. The art of storytelling lies not only in presenting life’s struggles but in doing so with a narrative coherence that respects the audience’s emotional investment. While commendable in exploring unconventional timelines and relationship dynamics, One Day ultimately falls short of delivering a satisfying and authentic resolution, leaving viewers questioning the necessity of a twist that sacrifices emotional resonance for shock value.

Author: pecsbowen

reader.philosopher.writer

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