I can't fully explain it -- the end is, literally, supposed to be the happy ending. Well, sort of, if you can ignore the fact Savage and his partner are married in Canada and not married as soon as the cross the border back home to Seattle.
But that's not what got me.
I got.... bored.
Tired of the Savage-Miller-Pierce family.
I got sick of Savage's back-and-forth, will-we-won't-we debate on whether he, personally, wished to get married.
And I started to feel just a little bad for his boyfriend and son, whose lives are also collected in this story. (Although I have to imagine successful relationships are built on sharing the manuscript before it goes to print.)
Look, none of these complaints should be taken as recommendations you shouldn't read this book. This book is great. Savage is a great writer. I really want to read more of his work. And I can't help but agree with Ira Glass's (unrealistic) review on the back: "I think America would be a better place if everyone on every side of the gay marriage debate would read this book."
I think I might take minor issue with the memoir as a genre -- and yes, I realize this directly contradicts my "I want to read more Savage lit" comment.
But hear me out: Real lives don't have happy endings. (Yes, this is a concept I struggle with constantly, as I try to wrap everything in my life up in neat little envelopes.) There is no natural stop-point in a personal narrative. No final story that says, "This is the end of that chapter of my life."
Yet the personal memoir, the autobiographical tale, expects just that. Conclusion. Happily-ever-after. The end.
Meanwhile, I'm going to be away for a few days. I realize this is nothing new these days, but I have -- believe it or not -- been making an effort to get back into personal blogging.
So, during my off time, I offer a few readings....
Prepare for November -- and the challenge of writing your own novel.
Diablo Cody is going to Sweet Valley. Or rendering Sweet Valley on film. Or ruining Jessica and Elizabeth Wakefield. Depending on who you ask.