To read, or not to read

To read, or not to read – that is the question. Whether it's better for the mind to suffer all tickling thoughts and curiosity, or to bear the pain of endless lamentation upon finding the end unhappy.

Enough of that. That's my problem in short. I am between my highest possible curiosity to know how the Four Inseparables fare, and the hesitation of finding out because I know the end would not be as I wish. As Shakespeare said:

Journey ends in lovers' meeting – and friends' adieu.

Alright, I made that up a little bit. But that's what exactly happens. There are only few things in the world I read before reading the synopsis, and d'Artagnan Romances are not in the group. So I know what will happen to them all, even though I haven't read the story. And since I hate sad ending, or sappy ending, or whatever you call it, I feel reluctant to read those books.

I've told you that I cried reading the Count of Monte Cristo, and the end is not sad. The same can be said for Robin Hood ballad. Reading about his death made me gloomy for days. Phantom of the Opera haunted me for weeks with its melancholy air. Aragorn's death, which I read in my Physics class, erased all the lecturer's words from my head. Sad ending is not for me.

Parting produces the same effect. Lord of the Rings is a good example. The more I read, the more close I am to the end, the more sad it makes me. Because I know they cannot stay together forever. They must part, at least by death. Even the Epilogue of The Three Musketeers grieves my heart deeply.

So how can I read two more?

And yet I force myself to read. I'm on Chapter 15 of Twenty Years After now, although the book is not on my Project List. If my heart must break, then it will break. After Twenty Years After, and a little fangirling, or weeping, I shall continue to The Man in the Iron Mask – if I have the heart to read it.

(I think tonight I will remain awake, and perhaps, finish the second book of the Romances.)