The End? By Ripley Proserpina

 I just finished watching Netflix’s Alias Grace. This show was based on the Margaret Atwood novel, and it brought up a topic I’ve reflected on after multiple books and shows—unfinished endings. Endings of interpretation. Not cliffhangers. There’s nothing at the end of these types of series that are meant to wrap you into the next installment. It is the end. Le fin. 

I am often so unsettled by these endings that I leave these experiences wondering if I’m just not smart enough to get it. Did I miss a key piece of information in the book that would point a resolution? Or did I misread a character? Did I fail to interpret the thing that would make all of the story come together?

Part of me adores this. What more can I ask for than something that sticks with me? Something that makes me think about what I’ve experienced long after I’ve finished it. 

The other half of me wishes for resolution—you know—a happy ending. 

But life isn’t like that, and if art reflects life then…. 

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