Unnecessary Death in Fiction
Imagine the headline:
America’s Most-Loved Dog – Snoopy, Dead at 87
Beloved Beagle Flattened by Eighteen-Wheeler
“I’m devastated,” said Charles ‘Charlie’ Brown, longtime owner of the charismatic, but aloof pooch. “I don’t think I can go on without him.”
When asked for a reason for killing off the world’s most-beloved canine, Peanuts creator, Charles Shultz, replied, “Kids need more death in their lives. The earlier the better. Frankly, I should’ve killed him years ago.”
Why do some authors think they can improve their stories by making someone die? Whether it’s the protagonist, his ally, or the family dog, some authors seem to think death is a necessary part of the plot.
If killing off a character propels the story, or is an integral part of the plot, then by all means, kill them. But death for deaths’ sake?
No. Just because animals and people die in real life is no reason to kill of their fictional counterparts. If there’s no real or logical justification, why kill the beloved family pet? Just to demonstrate that animals die?
What’s the teaching? And is it really necessary?
A perfect example of what not to do is the movie based on the book Pay It Forward. In the movie, the main character, a boy named Trevor, is killed off at the very end of the movie in a random and senseless act of violence.
While the message of the movie, that helping others is a noble cause, would have been perfectly clear without killing the boy, the death of the boy merely uses raw emotion in a cheap effort to elicit sympathy from the audience.
The boy’s death does nothing to further the plot, and only adds unnecessary sadness to what should have been an uplifting and inspiring story.
Another example is one of the first novel-length books I ever read, Charlotte’s Web. I’ll never forget the tears falling as I realized this lovable character, this beautiful and wonderful character I’d come to know and love, had really died. It was like a punch to my gut. I had to read it over and over before it finally sank in. Charlotte was gone. Forever.
Okay, so Charlotte was only a spider. And a fictional spider, at that. But as spiders go, Charlotte was something special. She was kind and wise, possessing a much sweeter disposition than most of the spiders I’ve known over the years. The question is, did killing Charlotte make Charlotte’s Web a better book?
After much careful consideration, I concluded… heck, if I know. That was fifty years ago.
I do know that the death of the most lovable character in the book is what I remember most about Charlotte’s Web.
So if traumatizing your readers is what you’re after, then have at it. Kill ’em all.
But for those authors who believe children should be taught about death, I say this: There’s already enough suffering and death in the world as it is. The fact is, most children know enough about death already. They don’t need to be reminded
of it. And if some kids haven’t yet encountered death, they will soon enough.
What kids and young people, and grownups for that matter, need most of all is a promise and hope for the future.
Fiction should teach, sure. But it should also inspire a positive outlook, and hope. Fiction should uplift both the young and old, not remind them of their mortality, or that death is just around the corner.
If you want to teach the young, teach them about life. About the virtues of a life well-lived. Teach them about the simple joys of friendship. Family. Caring and giving.
I am in no way stating we should bury our heads in the sand and pretend that death does not exist.
But while the skull always grins in at the banquet, we needn’t invite him in to join the feast. Let the dead promote their own. Or, as Jesus said, “Let the dead bury the dead.”
In these especially troubled times, readers want and need all the happy endings they can get.
Readers today need encouragement. They need assurance that despite all the evil prevalent in the world, good, light, and above all – life – will ultimately triumph over darkness, chaos, and death.
It is our responsibility as authors to help inspire this promise, this hope for a future, in those who come after us. And while every book needn’t have a fairy tale ending, we as authors should stop to ask ourselves…
What would I like to inspire in my readers?
And if I’m killing one of my characters, be it a human, a dog, or even a goldfish, does it drive the story forward in a meaningful way?
If the answer to that question is no, then for goodness sake, don’t kill.
