A paper on The Notebook

THE NOTEBOOK
A simple masterpiece that could have a place next to Romeo and Juliet and the Lady of the Camellias, if only someone had died




When in October of 1997 a small book with just over 200 pages by a practically unknown writer was published, its story and message spread through the world and fascinated readers and critics alike within days of its release. Translated into twenty- three languages and on the New York Times bestseller list for over a year, nobody could deny the magic of what became an instant classic. Yet, being confronted with a story that took the reader on a simple path to the purest form of romance and love was something almost foreign to many of us. It ultimately created a gap between one group that was truly touched, moved and changed by Nicolas Sparks’ novel, and another group that looked at his work as boring, dusty and shallow.
I am not attempting to speak for Mr. Sparks’ abilities as a writer and novelist, trying to catapult him to a level where on a literary basis he clearly does not belong. He is no Shakespeare and no Dumas, and no argument in the world could be strong enough to convince anybody otherwise. What I am arguing for is a story of romance between two people sharing a life together, giving even the most cynic of readers a glimmer of hope for what they don’t dare to hope for: True love.

Sparks takes no more than three paragraphs to prepare the reader for the story he is beginning to tell:
“I am a common man with common thoughts, and I’ve led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten, but I’ve loved another with all my heart and soul and to me, this has always been enough.” With these words he sets the stage for what is awaiting us. He makes it very clear that this book is not meant to keep us on the edge of our seats and that we are not about to get pulled into a plot that keeps us awake at night, trying to unravel a twisted story of betrayal, conspiracy and suspense. He makes no secret of the fact that The Notebook is a common story about a common life, which in our times might just be the most uncommon thing one can imagine.
It therefore comes as no surprise to me that a large number of people flipped through the pages of this book, underwhelmed by the lack of action, deceit and tragedy, when in reality one of two things took place in the minds of those unappreciative readers: They either failed miserably at recognizing the beauty of simplicity, or they were in fact overwhelmed by the sheer idea of love on such a profound level, in which case it is easier to talk it down as opposed to admitting the fear of not ever finding love as described in The Notebook.

Every book that passes through our hands leaves something behind. It can inform, it can make us take sides, and it can trigger changes in our views. It can disgust, excite, frighten, arouse, teach or calm us, granted we are receptive to the power the words can have over our minds. And while we all enjoy the idea of using stories as material or motivation for our own lives, love might in many cases be the exception. The reason for this fact is surely not the lack of desire for love. It is not even the fear of love itself. It is the reality that love is the one thing we have no control over. It is not something we can create, produce or force. We read books that describe art, wealth and beauty. Stories about overcoming tragedy, fighting crime, solving riddles or saving the planet, and in our fantasy world we can envision ourselves as a part of the story, wondering how we would act or what we would do within the scenario. Sparks’ novel does not provide us with the luxury of letting us “act out” anything if not love. He bases his storyline purely on the emotion between two people, and by doing so only grants access to those readers who can envision themselves in a scenario where no other distractions are needed or even wanted. Most people might find themselves imagining being in Allie’s or Noah’s places in life and experiencing those perfect moments of sharing a love that is returned on an equal level, but they again base their imagination on “actions”. The first time they kiss, their first sexual encounter in a rundown building or sitting on the porch in silence. The idea of sharing those moments with another is appealing to mankind in general, but the fear of never finding the person to share them with overpowers many people’s ability to sink into those fantasies.

When in 2004 Nick Cassavetes directed the film version with Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling in the lead roles, he took the risk of disappointing his audience, just as Nicolas Sparks did when initially writing the novel.
Rebecca Murray wrote in her movie review on About.com, entitled “The Notebook, like curling up with a good book”:

“The Notebook is a gentle romantic tale in the midst of blockbuster action films and goofball comedies. It isn’t just a film for women. It’s a movie for anyone who wants to get lost in a beautiful story, for anyone who believes romance is still alive on film.”
Ms. Murray realizes that a story without a substantial amount of action or slap stick humor has a hard time succeeding nowadays. There is an image to uphold. There is a degree of what’s “cool” and “hip”, and the thought of spending two hours amidst a lifelong love that ends with two people holding hands as they die in their sleep simply doesn’t fall into any of those categories. And yet, the world appears to be in desperate need of everything The Notebook stands for, which explains the fact that over five years later the movie is still shown at least once a week on one of our many Cable TV stations. The truth is that we all want to relate to love, but just like in life, people have lost patience and appreciation for love in books and on film if it doesn’t provide a certain amount of action. Looking at masterpieces such as “Romeo and Juliet” or “The Lady of the Camellias”, they all have one thing in common: Their love for each other ends in tragedy. For many writers of our past and present, death has been the ticket to success. Who would even remember the story of a young couple lusting after one another, had they not been found poisoned and stabbed in Juliet’s tomb? Would La Traviata*have ever debut at the Teatro La Fenice in 1853, if Violetta Valery had not suffered a terrible death, preventing the love between her and Alfredo Germont to succeed?
The Notebook is a complete story with a beginning, middle and an ending that is not cut short by death or other catastrophic circumstances. It reminds us that disasters are not necessary in order for a story to reach the masses and move readers or viewers. The gap between the romantics and the cynics will never be closed, but one thing is certain: While The Notebook will forever remind the romantics that love might in fact begin, grow and last a lifetime, it will just as much remind the cynics of what they do not have the privilege of appreciating.

*Opera in three acts by Giuseppe Verdi based on Dumas “La dame aux camelias”.