I love tragic fiction. I love the way it gets under my skin and moves me. I also love the way it reminds me how glad I am. Glad that I wasn’t born in a time or a place where I would have been my father’s and later my husband’s property. Glad that I have never had to endure war, famine or poverty.
Tragic fiction reminds me of these things, and others. And then, unlike real-life tragedy, it ends. I go back to my privileged, (at present) non-tragic life. Momentarily shaken and stirred, but not shattered.
Last night I saw Revolutionary Road, starring Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio. I read the novel, by Richard Yates, a few years ago. Both the film and the novel are really good. At least if you like tragedy.
The story reminded me how glad I am to be born in Sweden, in the 1970s. How glad I am to have the courage to go my own way. How glad I am that I never had children.