Writing Bad Endings
An argument for nihilism in your work.
The worst endings are the most memorable.
We remember because it kicked us in the gut when we so desperately wanted something good to happen for the protagonist.
But do we really want to read about people being good?
We spend so much of our real-lives being good. It is beneficial to our social status. There are consequences if you step out of line. YAWN.
People want to know what happens when you do bad things, and this is why stories that don’t leave you hopeful and encouraged are so popular.
Yes, there’s a big market for the feel-good story. That’s why there are countless hero and heroine novels where they save the day by being incredibly kind and sometimes also incredibly rich. Those stories are fine and noble and necessary also.
However, here are 3 terrible, beautiful endings to support my case.
‘I love Big Brother’
The ending of 1984 by Orwell is such a kicker.
He outed the woman he loved to not suffer the consequence of his own betrayal to the system. He was tortured and tormented. He lives, for sure, but the bad guy has won here. He accepts the system — all of his rebellion was for nothing. They get him. They get into his mind and he is defeated.
‘I love Big Brother’, he says. That hits home with a much starker, poignant message than ‘one man takes down a toxic society and everyone is happy again.’ 1984 is a classic piece of literature for many reasons, but the ending is definitely at the top of those. There is no hope, the system will get you in the end.
‘Oh I was cured, all right’
The fundamental need for both good and evil is the take-home message from A Clockwork Orange. Alex DeLarge is the ultimate anti-hero; gang member, rapist, murderer, Beethoven lover, milk drinker.
Jailed and given new aversion therapy that makes him sick, we start to miss the freedom he once had to be terrible to people. Take away the ability to do bad things and you remove a necessary aspect of human nature. Evil is as much a part of our character as goodness.
‘This is not an exit’
Bret Easton Ellis wrote American Psycho about his father. Pick that apart at your leisure. Patrick Bateman is totally insane. This is not an exit has been analyzed a million times over. But nobody denies that this is a bleak ending. Following a terrifying guy as he slaughters countless people, waxes lyrical about Phil Collins and confesses everything to his lawyer — with no justice, no triumph and no conclusion waiting for us at the end.
All of this terrible stuff happens but you just can’t.stop.reading and then he tells you all of this is meaningless. His life, whether he did those things or imagined them, is meaningless. Existence is meaningless.
However you take your endings, don’t be afraid to smack your reader in the face. We try to be good in reality, but often-times the bad guys still win and we are, you know, both. Heroes don’t exist the way they do in the comic-books.
The messages from these three books alone convey so much about the human condition that is uncomfortable yet necessary to address. We can always use more.
