Anticipation

There is something of the macabre involved in anticipating the finale to a series. Be it books, be it a trilogy of films, be it a tv show, there is a feeling of dread in approaching the end. That can happen with a single book or movie, particularly as so many often go downhill so quickly as the author attempts to wrap it up. But with a series, it is magnified due to the time and effort invested in it prior to the ending. So while one feels anticipation and excitement for the denouement, there is a genuine feeling of terror - what if the wrong person ends up with the character you love the most? What if, simply, the ending is shoddy? My friends who were seriously invested in Lost have struggled with that ending. And what if you have created a great piece of art or culture - yes, I'm looking at you, George Lucas - but then the author can't let it go, and they keep sucking your emotions away with sub-standard rubbish afterward that makes you forget why you loved the art in the first place?* So many people have slated the final season of The Wire, and I think a great deal of that is the relative disappointment, even if it's still miles ahead of anything else on tv.

There is also the simple regret at the coming to pass of something that you love. This is the feeling I have now as Mockingjay is sitting in wait for me at my local library. I was a latecomer to this, but The Hunger Games gripped both Cerebus and me, and as a result, I positively raced through Catching Fire, the second book that I've now handed onto Cerebus. I don't want to be disappointed in it, but there is also something about having everything unresolved, as if you're on the brink of something wonderful - or terrible - and there's a delicious joy in that uncertainty, the possibilities of what could happen. And the realisation that once you're done with the book, that's it. No going back. The story is fixed, done, and there will be no changes. Which is why I howl and howl and howl when I re-read the Dark Materials trilogy. That light, the hope has been snuffed out.

* Of course, a lot of people would argue about the general rubbishness of Return of the Jedi - which was probably an ill-fated harbinger of the awfulness of the new movies - in comparison to the glories of The Empire Strikes Back. Which leads me to ponder why the second of a trilogy is so often the best of them. Several come to mind: Star Wars trilogy, The Subtle Knife in the Dark Materials Trilogy, The Godfather Part II... hmm. Is it because the author is setting it up, with often a lot of darkness, but doesn't have to wrap up all the loose threads or worry about that, at least? I think so. But one to ponder.