Why I Cried During House Last Night
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I don't know if any of you regularly watch House, the medical drama/comedy starring Hugh Laurie, but last night was the wrap-up of a certain storyline that I thought was one of the best hours of television I've seen. It was great on many levels, not the least of which was that I cried copiously through the last five minutes of the show.
I did think to myself, as I went off to bed, What the hell? Why am I crying and feeling all enriched by this show? Maybe 50% of it is just that it's a way of experiencing life that you wouldn't otherwise experience---a potent dose of vicarious experience, like dreams. Maybe part of it is that you remember your own experiences more vividly. As one character cried at the end of the episode, he had tears actually dripping off his face, and that reminded me of the worst time in my life, when I would write in my journal and tears would drip off my face onto the journal pages. So it reconnected me to my own experience.
Beyond all the reasoned arguments for needing art is also this: that we keep wanting it, keep creating it. Enormous amounts of time and money are spent making art and consuming it, whether it's a billboard, a novel, a tv ad, or a movie. We want art, punto final. Though sometimes I do think I should click off the remote and go take a walk instead.
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I don't know if any of you regularly watch House, the medical drama/comedy starring Hugh Laurie, but last night was the wrap-up of a certain storyline that I thought was one of the best hours of television I've seen. It was great on many levels, not the least of which was that I cried copiously through the last five minutes of the show.
I did think to myself, as I went off to bed, What the hell? Why am I crying and feeling all enriched by this show? Maybe 50% of it is just that it's a way of experiencing life that you wouldn't otherwise experience---a potent dose of vicarious experience, like dreams. Maybe part of it is that you remember your own experiences more vividly. As one character cried at the end of the episode, he had tears actually dripping off his face, and that reminded me of the worst time in my life, when I would write in my journal and tears would drip off my face onto the journal pages. So it reconnected me to my own experience.
Beyond all the reasoned arguments for needing art is also this: that we keep wanting it, keep creating it. Enormous amounts of time and money are spent making art and consuming it, whether it's a billboard, a novel, a tv ad, or a movie. We want art, punto final. Though sometimes I do think I should click off the remote and go take a walk instead.
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posted by Anonymous at
5:42 PM
1 Comments:
Yeah, it ripped me apart too - poor Wilson! I still get a bit damp-eyed, strangely enough. My husband calls me an old softy.
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