What does “Happily Ever After” mean anyway?

I recently finished reading a World War II women’s fiction novel in which one of the main characters dies a sudden, violent death. (There are many, many spoilers ahead in this blog post, but I’ll spare you on this one. I’ll just reveal that it’s one of the books I recommended on my newly published Shepherd page.) I was shocked and distressed when I read that scene, and it took me a few days to get over it. Of course, I went on with life as usual, but I couldn’t shake the vague feeling of sadness that temporarily permeated my existence. Since this is a work of fiction, the author could have saved this character if she had wanted to. What is the point of putting one’s reader into a state of grief, even if only for a brief time?

I write Historical Romance and one of the unbreakable rules of romance writing is that the hero and heroine (or hero/hero, heroine/heroine in same-sex Romances) must get their “Happily Ever After,” abbreviated in the Romance writers’ community as HEA. I hold a Bachelor’s degree in English, and have studied theories on why novelists, poets and playwrights choose to write tragedy, sometimes compelling the reader or audience member to openly weep. Scholars look to Aristotle for the rationale of annihilating a character whom the spectators have come to respect and cherish. He wrote that catharsis for the audience is achieved through emotions such as pity and fear. In modern phraseology, having a “good cry” over the death of a beloved character in fiction or film ultimately makes us feel better. Or does it?

I was originally going to title this blog post “Why do love stories always have to be so sad?” inspired by watching (for the third time at least) all three seasons of the superb PBS series Victoria. Originally produced for British television, the somewhat historically accurate drama takes us from Queen Victoria’s accession in 1837 to Prince Albert’s triumphant Great Exhibition of 1851. The series is brilliantly written, acted, directed and filmed, with the sumptuous palaces, opulent jewels, lavish costumes, and splendid scenery of nineteenth century European aristocracy, along with all the Sturm und Drang* of the British royal family, of course.

There are many love stories, some happier than others, dramatized in Victoria. (This is where the spoilers come in, so if you plan on watching the series and prefer to be surprised, do not read any further!) Victoria’s heart may be slightly wounded on being rebuffed by Lord M, but she recovers completely after finding her Prince Charming, or rather, her Prince Albert. Victoria and Albert’s romance is legendary, and though they have their trials and dark moments, their ardor is as central to the series as it was historically renowned.

Other relationships in the series are less fruitful, and many will rend the TV viewer’s heart. Ernest, Duke of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha and Harriet, Duchess of Sutherland both survive, but their love affair is as poignant and star-crossed as it is historically inaccurate. Likewise, the forbidden affaire de coeur of palace footman Joseph Weld and Sophie, Duchess of Monmouth is destined for heartbreak. A more disastrous end comes to the liaison between Edward Drummond and Lord Alfred, and though Charles Francatelli and Nancy Skerritt eventually marry, their “happily ever after” ends all too soon, when a pregnant Nancy tragically succumbs to cholera.

Season 3 ends with a cliffhanger, as Albert collapses at Victoria’s feet, and she frantically tries to rouse him. In this I see a foreshadowing of Prince Albert’s untimely death at age 42. Though that fateful event occurs outside the scope of the TV series, most of us know it’s coming, to be followed by a long and bleak widowhood for Queen Victoria. (The show is currently on hiatus, and no plans for a season 4 have been announced.) 

Which brings us to the question – just how long is a “happily ever after” supposed to last? Victoria and Albert’s marriage lasted 21 years and produced nine children. Although Albert died young, even for that era, all of their offspring survived into adulthood, quite uncommon for the nineteenth century. To qualify as an HEA, is there a threshold of time that must be crossed, or is intensity of feeling the determining factor? No one is immortal and even the longest and happiest relationships end in death. “Nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky,” as the song goes, so what does “ever after” mean, after all? Queen Victoria lived another 39 years after her beloved Albert’s death, and though she likely found love later in life with manservant John Brown, he too predeceased her, leaving her bereft once again.

Perhaps it is the hope of the next generation that ultimately sustains us. In the TV series, Princess Vicky’s unexpected recovery from a deadly illness is a joyous and welcome relief for the Victoria viewer. (In real life, the Princess Royal went on to marry and have several children of her own.) We are also heartened by the poignant reunion of Sara (aka Aina) with her foster parents, Captain and Mrs. Forbes. A life of extravagance at Buckingham Palace is nothing compared to the domestic harmony of a simple and loving home for the African orphan.

Like those of both fictional and historical persons, our lives are filled with love and loss, pleasure and sorrow. Whether wedded bliss lasts but a few months (like Charles and Nancy) or many years (like Victoria and Albert), or is sadly thwarted (like Ernest and Harriet), we humans must persevere, and determine for ourselves what happiness is really all about. Like many of us, I am still working that out.

 

~~~

* Literally “storm and stress,” the term alludes to a proto-Romantic movement in German literature and music. It is used figuratively to refer to turmoil, passion and unrest. I use it in reference to the stresses and distresses of the British royal family, as valid in Charles III’s time as in Victoria’s. Of course, the same idiom could be applied to almost any family, royal or otherwise. 

"Your slumbering teems with such horrible dreams!"

“When you're lying awake
With a dismal headache
And repose is taboo'd by anxiety
I conceive you may use

Any language you choose

To indulge in, without impropriety…

Well, you get some repose
In the form of a doze
With hot eyeballs and head ever aching
But your slumbering teems
With such horrible dreams
                                                                     That you'd very much better be waking” -- from Iolanthe by W.S. Gilbert and Arthur Sullivan

Why do I keep reliving trauma through nightmares? Here I am again at my old firm, as a sales assistant, or at least acting as one. I’m working for my old money managers' team. There is an African stock with a tremendously complicated reorganization plan, but the development team is too overworked on other projects to design a program for it. It has to be worked out manually, on paper. Kerri is the only sales assistant who knows how to do this because she had to do it for her money managers. It involves not only the shares held in the African stock, but the calculation must take into account other stock positions held in each individual client account. Everyone is overworked and no one has extra time. I suggest hiring accounting temps but am told by HR that there are none available because every other firm is in the same boat we are – too much work, too few skilled workers. I make a comment saying that the same is true for farm workers and that is why the crops are rotting in the fields unharvested, and that we should let in the migrant workers on the southern border. One of the senior money managers responds, seemingly “from above,” like a deity, that we should just let the crops rot because who cares about the next generation, anyway. I hear that there is a cash option for the reorg that would be simpler, but less profitable for the clients. I suggest it to one of the managers, but then rescind my suggestion, conceding that we must do what is in the best interests of the clients, and since I'm a compliance officer I must uphold the highest fiduciary principles.

Long retired and dead (dead in real life but fully alive in the dream) Mary is back, working for Neil, and bitchy as ever. It seems there is no one able to help me, though Kerri can spare a little time explaining the procedure to me. No temps, no other sales assistants can help because they are all overwhelmed with their own work. Somehow, I’m still in the compliance department too, and though I’m tempted to quit and just walk away, I know the firm needs me (am I so irreplaceable?). I start to have a meltdown in front of Neil. Instead of comforting me he insists that I do the work. I have suicidal thoughts (in the dream) and even open a patio door (the terrace is tiny compared to the one at our old office location) and it is raining outside. Some of the traders do the same and people worry that they might really jump. One of the traders starts to have a meltdown and needs her husband (also a trader at the firm) right away. I send a male coworker, Walter, into the gym to get him because he is taking a shower after a workout. The female trader says there is an air vent high on the wall that goes directly from the trading room into the shower area, and I lift her up so she can try to speak to her husband. She can’t hear him, probably because the water is running. Walter gets to the husband, but is told he needs 15 more minutes. I comment, “just rinse yourself off – your wife needs you!” but then am told he has some kind of physical condition that prevents him from moving too fast.

I am torn between protecting myself and my mental health, and my duty/responsibility/obligation to the firm. It seems that I am retired or formerly retired and remember (in the dream) that I volunteered to help out in the compliance department after my retirement because they needed me, though I was not initially paid. (This is a recurring theme in many other dreams.)

Then suddenly, I awaken, and like the Lord Chancellor in the Gilbert & Sullivan opera, am relieved to realize that it was only a terrible nightmare. I am still retired!

"But the darkness has passed
And it's daylight at last
And the night has been long
Ditto, ditto my song
And thank goodness they're both of them over!"