Character Assassination (Or: Closure Is A Real Word)

For those of you who read this week's NBLB weekend survey, and want to suggest that I watch the new version of A Room with a View on PBS this Sunday, I have these words to say to you: No, thank you.

I'm sorry to say this, but I did get spoilered because somebody had the bright idea to post the entire 2007 production on YouTube, broken down into ten parts. I'd post the link, but I'm still too upset to consider what they did to one of my favorite books.

It does go without saying that I am insanely partial to the original Merchant-Ivory version, with both Helena Bonham Carter and Julian Sands at their best (before both of them devolved into caricatures of their former selves), with a young Daniel Day-Lewis (who, I believe, grew back his Cecil Vyse mustache when he started drinking those damn milkshakes) and a plethora of top-shelf British acting talent supporting them. That's why I was looking forward to this new version - I was hoping they'd breathe some fresh air into what was threatening to become a musty relic.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

Say what you will about messing with classics (see also: criticism of the the ongoing Miss Marple series) or about how E. M. Forster was unable to relate to A Room With a View later in life (see also: Maurice), but I don't think I'm buying what Andrew Davies is trying to sell here - not even to justify the time shifts, the "new" "ending," or even the currently-disputed fact that Forster did write a postscript to Room which reflected his more cynical view of life and love. Yes, I'm part of the horribly gauche masses who do want George Emerson and Lucy Honeychurch to end up together, as they should have been: blissfully in love in Italy, showering each other with kisses. And why, pray tell, should that be a problem?

What also gets to me was that the "liberties" taken by the producers and screenwriters with this novel are a massive waste of everyone's time and talent - most especially the adorable Rafe Spall (seen here in another production), who could not have been a much cuter George Emerson if he tried. He does remind me a bit of Heath Ledger, in a way - if Heath (God bless his soul) had become hopelessly addicted to IHOP instead of partying- and watching him yearn soulfully for Lucy Honeychurch brought home all the great reasons why I've loved George Emerson the way Forster intended him to be. And yes, he does have certain delicious scenes without his clothes on, including the final scene of him at the Pensione Bertolini.

But then... the freaking ending. No. No. No. They should never have done that to poor George and Lucy. Wasn't it enough to have them risk ostracism by eloping, thereby liberating Lucy from the narrowmindedness of her quaint English countryside town? Again, say what you want about whether or not it's an ending that would have made E. M. Forster's heart proud, but: unnecessary, blasphemous, and a great waste of both George Emerson and Rafe Spall.

And this raises yet another timeless question: Why do we even bother with "happily ever after" in the first place, if so many people dislike it so much to mess around with it?

Don't get me wrong. There are days when I do feel that a sad and/or messy ending is appropriate - witness my love for Ian McEwan's Amsterdam, for instance. Sometimes, however, there are days when readers like myself and Happy Scribe have no use for bitter cynicism. Yes, we understand that sugar is bad for you, and can be kind of fake when you just slap it on... but does it really help to be bitter, especially at a time when most people have a reason to be cynical? Come on, people: how easy is it, anyway, to find somebody who is actually happy about living on a diet of nothing but spelt and Brussels sprouts?

My theory: If Forster (or anybody else) wanted to prove a point by showing a more realistic view of relationships by rewriting George and Lucy after their elopement, that's fine - but that also betrays a lack of trust between author and audience, especially when the "creative risk" means destroying people's perceptions of characters they have grown to love. Most people who read books would rather prefer to leave what happens next to the imagination, regardless of what they think about the ending or the author's intention. The synergy between reader and author is what makes messing with an established ending - especially an established happy ending - a complete waste of time; there's a reason, after all, why closure is a legitimate word.