can i just say how much it pisses me off that the twentieth and early twenty first centuries turned art into something cynical and dark and made it suddenly that the intellectual thing to do was to make everything sad and gritty, and made happy stories into something that the artist and intellectual was supposed to turn up their nose at, because ugh, the happy ending is so unrealistic
like, what the fuck?
why should happiness be unrealistic? what precedent does that set? what joyless loveless world do you want to inherit and create with that kind of mindset with art?
yes, make art a catharsis if that’s what you want, but i don’t see why that release of pain should be held up as the only standard of art.
because even tragedy can be triumphant, you know? the romantics knew that. poets know that.
so why does unrelenting sorrow need to be the standard?