I rarely feel the need to hurl a book across the room, but I was sorely tempted last weekend. The book was Nicholas Sparks’ MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE. Now don’t get me wrong. Mr. Sparks is a great writer. His prose is specific and immediate, sometimes lyrical. His characters breathe on their own.
No, my beef with MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE is more organic. It’s about the difference in the way men and women are wired. It’s about what we each see as romantic. He thinks his story ends with a grand romantic gesture. I think it’s the most moronic passive/agressive move of all time. Let me explain (and for those of you who haven’t read MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE and intend to, I’ll warn you–THIS POST IS A SPOILER.)
The premise is charming. A divorced journalist, Theresa, is jogging along the rocky beach on Cape Anne (Massachusett’s other Cape) and finds a corked bottle with a note inside. It’s a letter written by a heartsick man to his dead wife. Since Theresa’s ex cheated on her, she’s intrigued by a man who can love so deeply and so faithfully.
OK. It’s sort of a low-tech play on Sleepless in Seattle, but Sparks has hooked me.
Her editor, who’s a cross between the all-wise Merlin and a fairy-godmother, urges her to use the letter in her column. Through her journalistic connections, Theresa is able to uncover the letter writer’s identity. Garth, a diving instructor who runs his own boat out of Wilmington. She has a couple weeks while her son is visiting his dad, so she goes to find Garth.
And they connect. Their courtship is sweet and hopeful. These are two genuinely nice people and I find myself cheering for them. Of course, they carry baggage with them. He’s guilty over learning to love again. She’s afraid to trust after having been hurt so badly by her ex. Good. These are compelling, meaty issues for them to deal with. But they seem to break through those deep inner conflicts enough to commit to loving each other.
Then things start going south, which I completely understand. As a fiction writer, it is my bounden duty to torture my characters for the delight of my readers and Sparks proceeds to do so. She has a high-powered career in Boston. He owns his own business in Wilmington. How will they be together? This is a outer conflict that’s a no brainer as far as I’m concerned. If they love each other, who cares?
I’ve followed my husband to nine different states. He’s always asked me if it’s ok each time he gets another job offer, but he knows my answer. I love him. I’ll live ANYWHERE with that man. And if ever I make enough money for us to live on, he’s promised to happily retire and live with me as my boy-toy on Maui. Where we are doesn’t signify in the least as long as we’re together.
So Sparks is starting to lose me in the petty bickering he puts Theresa and Garth through. Then finally, Garth send Theresa a package (a message in a bottle saying he’s going to sell his business and move to Boston to be with her) but he has one more thing to do first.
One more stupid, idiotic, passive-agressive, boyish, junior-high gesture. He takes his boat out–later than he should and he knows better. He’s an accomplished sailor. There’s a squall on the horizon, but he thinks he can beat it. He has to sail out far further than usual, so this last letter to his dead wife will make it all the way to Europe–as though he’ll ever know one way or the other if it does or not. And long story short, the boat sinks. The guy drowns needlessly.
At this point, I was ready to consign MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE to the ninth circle of Hell. This is NOT romantic. It’s stupid. The guy had a second chance to build a meaningful life with a woman who loves him and whom he claims to love in return and he literally threw it away. Theresa is once again cheated on by a man she trusted. I totally DO NOT GET IT!
However, I’m willing to entertain other opinions. Can you explain to me why men seem to need bitter-sweet, (or in this case just plain bitter-stupid) endings to their romances, i.e. THE HORSE WHISPERER and BRIDGES OF MADISON COUNTY? Isn’t there enough angst in life without dragging it into our escapist fantasies? What about happily ever after is so hard to understand?
Please, enlighten me.
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