Beach reads. Is there a more evocative reading mood than the idea of lying on the beach, lazily flipping through a romance or thriller? Or maybe you prefer to beat the heat and sit in the comfort of air-conditioning (at home or at the library), killing time until the sun sets with a book in hand. In the summer, the days are longer, inviting you to fill them with books.
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What was it that Shakespeare said? “My kingdom for a decent adaptation of Persuasion?” Some versions have gotten close, but we’ve yet to land on a definitive take (unlike, say, Pride and Prejudice, which is done, now please leave it alone forever). The latest brave soul to take a crack at Jane Austen’s final novel is Netflix, who takes misinterpretation of the source material to soaring new heights in an adaptation that is not only just plain bad, but bafflingly off-base. And it seems that many of us have taken that personally. By now, plenty of hilariously dramatic thinkpieces have been written on the ways in which this version fails. But all the hubbub got me thinking: there have been plenty of terrible movie adaptations of beloved books before. Why is this one so offensive?
First and most obviously, it takes Austen’s most mature, melancholic, pensive work about lost love and regret and tries to jam it into the shape of a romantic comedy. Then there’s the questionable dialogue, which switches wildly between the 19th and 21st centuries without any rhyme or reason (there’s a scene where protagonist Anne Elliot’s sister asks her how she would dance to Beethoven. Anne: “Alone in my room, with a bottle of red.” Where is the Beethoven playing from, in this scenario? Her Spotify account?), and also has the subtlety of a sledgehammer (I particularly enjoyed the scene where the mustache-twirling villain Mr. Elliot fully lays out his dastardly plans to sabotage Anne’s father’s relationship in the style of a Bond villain—and Anne has no problem going shopping with him later). The romantic lead Captain Wentworth—who carries himself with a dignified, wounded pride in the novel—has the air of a boxer who has taken one too many hits, always seeming a bit dazed; I have a hard time believing this version of him could craft the iconic “I am half-agony, half-hope” letter.
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Nihilism has a pretty bad rep, and it’s not too hard to see why, but in The Sunny Nihilist, author Wendy Syfret points out the ways in which nihilism, interpreted and applied correctly*, could actually offer a helping hand when you’re feeling overwhelmed with no way out of this hamster wheel of a world (whoever is not feeling overwhelmed at the moment, please spill your secrets. Asking for a friend).
In a way, this wasn’t anything new to me. As in this Guardian article by Syfret, which I believe has been adapted into the book, “Then it hit me: “Who cares? One day I’ll be dead and no one will remember me anyway.” (Syfret, Sunny Nihlism). When feeling as though I’ve spent too long screaming into the void, there’s immense solace to be found thinking about the way in which, if I were to keel over right now, in the grand scheme of things, it’d be ok. The thought of how I’d like my corpse to be dealt with also brings me joy, and the knowledge that even though it doesn’t always feel like it, I’m choosing to continue being alive moment to moment is another thing that lets me take a deeper breath**. It’s not always a guaranteed relief to think of death and the meaninglessness of my own existence, but suffice it to say that I was quite relieved upon reading The Sunny Nihilist that I am not alone in finding it relaxing to do so!
Does all this seem to reflect the nihilism found on social media coming out of millennial and Gen Z output a little too much? I mean, maybe. I’m a millennial who went through art school, so perhaps I’m a little too much the ideal candidate for nihilism to take root in (though as previously discussed, Sartre was my philosopher crush back in the day), but when you think about the coming of age of millennials and Gen Z both, is it really any surprise nihilism seems to be a common touchpoint? (Is there some bias in this absolutely anecdotal gathering of data on my end? Most definitely. If anyone has noticed differently, feel free to share.) On a related note, this one was a bit of news to me since I hadn’t really noticed too much of this on my feeds, but apparently requests for celebrities to enact murder upon oneself are common, which, if you’ve been on the internet, is both surprising but also not really? Of course, Syfret doesn’t turn away from the dark recesses nihilism has also landed people into, and discusses how the very same philosophy can lead you down very different paths – but that in theory, one could harness it for the good!***
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