CATHARSIS THROUGH FILM: Why "The Notebook" Is the Only Film That Ever Made Me Cry

 I am no one special. Just a common man with common thoughts. I’ve led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten, but in one respect I’ve succeeded as gloriously as anyone who ever lived. I’ve loved another with all my heart and soul and for me that has always been enough.

–Duke (James Garner), “The Notebook”

 I’m a pretty tough cookie when it comes to the movies.  I sit back and analyze the dialogue, deconstruct scenes and then imagine them differently, watch for historical inaccuracies or exaggeration, admire the costuming.  I try to remember the actors’ names, and compare their acting in this film to their performance in previous films.  With all of that going on in my head, I do not cry.  Ever.

 Except once. 

 My husband and I were visiting our son in Greenville, South Carolina.  The menfolk had a project to complete—remodeling the bathroom, or painting the kitchen, something like that—and I rented the 1994 chick flick “The Notebook” from the local Blockbuster and settled in to watch the show.  An hour and a half later, my husband popped back into the living room to find me, tears streaming down my cheeks, completely out of control.

 Why, you ask, did this film invade this cranky heart in a way that “Return To Me” and “Sleepless in Seattle” could not? 

 Like a funhouse mirror, “The Notebook” stretched and skewed reality, exposing my future in a wiggly, wavy sort of way—forcing me to admit, perhaps for the first time, that those little lapses in memory that we laughingly call “senior moments” are precursors to a Big Forgetting, the beginning of the end.

 Through the years—through raising children and watching them grow, through buying homes and cars and baby strollers—we’ve merged our fortunes, for better or worse.  Together we’ve tested our wings, driving across the country in a Chevy Vega packed to the roofline with tent and frying pans and baked beans, and later flying across the Atlantic to explore the European countryside. 

 Now clomping along through our 35th year of marriage, my husband and I joke about the inevitable signs of aging:  the aches and pains, the creaky hip, the misplaced eyeglasses, the forgotten name that’s just on the tip of the tongue.  But someday—and that day will force itself upon us in a flash—there will be the inevitability of a sweet goodbye.  If we’ve lived and loved for sixty years, it will not have been enough. 

 Watching Allie and Noah, I was forced to admit that the end of our story, however it comes, is going to be hard.  Not just hard, but unimaginably devastating.  Chances are we won’t die together—instead, one of us will falter first, and the other will try to hold on, but chemotherapy or surgery or defibrillation will prove insufficient.  One will walk alone into eternity, leaving the other with a profound grief.

 Actor Ryan Gosling, who played the role of the young Noah in the film, spoke recently on the Independent Film Channel about how “The Notebook” actually caused one couple to break their engagement.  After watching the lake scene, in which Noah takes Allie for a ride in a rowboat amid a flock of swans and geese, the woman complained, “You wouldn’t build a house for me, would you?!”  The clueless fiancé responded “Well, no—I don’t know how!” “But if you knew how?”  “No, but it doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”  She said, “Yes, it does!”—and sensing only a more ordinary kind of love, not Noah’s ardent, expansive love, she ended the engagement.

 What that young woman didn’t understand, and what made the movie so implausable, is that the young can only imagine a love like that.  Oh, youthful passion brings delights of its own—but it can’t hold a candle to the later love that’s been tempered in the fire of everyday life, of midnight feedings, of cars repaired and jealousies survived, of prayers together on our knees.  I still can’t bear the thought of losing that abundant, well-worn love. 

 Pope Paul VI wrote, “Someone should tell us, right at the start of our lives, that we are dying.  Then we might live life to the limit, every minute of every day.  Do it! I say. Whatever you want to do, do it now!  There are only so many tomorrows!”

  • Cindy Sharrow

    Kath,

    A very dear friend of mine just passed away. He was 81 and married to my other very dear friend, Donna Gatny for over 60 years.

    I am having a very difficult time visioning one without the other…I know of course that she will most likely not last long here on earth without him. Both are devout Catholics, thy live here in West Branch and I cleaned their house for many years. They became close family friends, coming to Christys nursing graduation party and ending Jess a very generous gift for her Wedding and baby….they have been an inspiration to me over and over again.

    I have never watched the Notebook completely through, only finding it on HBO or Showtime after it had already started and we don’t have a DVD player since my cable company furnished us with a DVR so I haven’t rented it either. I have heard my girls say over and over again how much they loved it.

    Your blog today was beautiful. You have finally found your calling……thank goodness for the internet.

    Your sis

    Cindy

    • Kathy Schiffer

      Sorry to hear about your friend!

      Well, you’re going to have to put “Watch ‘The Notebook’ all the way through” on your bucket list for 2011.

      Thanks for your kind words.

      Kathy

  • Bettie McClintic

    Hi Kathy,

    I just found your blog. Thank you for your description of a life-long love. I too, am not looking forward to walking this life alone.

    My husband is a permanent deacon also.

    We are much complexed about what Thomas Peters’ father disclosed about deacons this past week. Have you read it on his blog? American Papist? My husband spoke to his spiritual director today and Father told him the argument about continence for permanent deacons was it was silly. This reminded me of the day I read Humane Vitae after a priest said that contraception was okay. Hmmmm. Praying deeply on this one.

    Let me know if you have any thoughts on the subject.

    • Kathy Schiffer

      Hi Bettie,
      Sorry I didn’t respond earlier– your post somehow got buried. You mentioned Ed Peters’ incendiary paper about married deacons and continence. Did you see that I did publish a blog post on the subject?

      I’ve watched the discussion move forward, and I especially liked a response from Deacon William Ditewig who was (or is?) a leader in the diaconate conference in the U.S. Bill worked for a number of years for the USCCB. He noted that it’s much ado about nothing– and made some excellent points.

      Best to you and your husband,
      Kathy

  • Bettie McClintic

    I meant to say “perplexed”. Hit send button too quickly.


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