Some people - and I am one of them - hate happy ends. We feel cheated. Harm is the norm. Doom should not jam. The avalanche stopping in its tracks a few feet above the cowering village behaves not only unnaturally but unethically. Had I been reading about this mild old man, instead of writing about him, I would have preferred him to discover, upon his arrival to Cremona, that his lecture was not this Friday but the next. Actually, however, he not only arrived safely but was in time for dinner - a fruit cocktail, to begin with, mint jelly with the anonymous meat course, chocolate syrup with the vanilla ice cream.
Some individuals, including the narrator, find themselves disenchanted with stories that resolve too happily. They sense a lack of authenticity when harm or strife is not woven into the narrative, believing that positive outcomes can feel undeserved or unrealistic. For these readers, a story's value often lies in its exploration of challenges and the darker facets of existence.
In this context, the narrator reflects on a mild character who arrives in Cremona, only to experience an untroubled sequence of events, from a timely arrival to a delightful dinner. The gentleness of this situation contrasts sharply with the narrator's preference for narratives infused with tension and uncertainty, suggesting a deeper philosophical stance on storytelling and its representations of life.
