Tonight I was having a *ahem* heated discussion with my mother over fictional tragedy. It stemmed from a somewhat dreary essay I wrote about Angela?s Ashes. Mom disliked the stance I took, being a fan of the book herself. I frankly told her I disliked the book, and she frankly told me she disliked Moulin Rouge, one of my favorite movies, and I frankly?*ducks to avoid figurative flying plate* Well, suffice it to say that it?s a very old argument. Old as time, probably?the archetypal parent figure, the archetypal child figure, the archetypal figurative flying plate. The archetypal battle: Real Life Bad Stuff v. Fake Fictional Bad Stuff. Archetypal Parent Figure (henceforth abbreviated as APF) Why do you want to read a story where the author kills off the main characters and generally puts everyone through a state of suffering? Isn?t that kind of sick or something? At least read about real suffering if you want suffering; there?s plenty of it in this world. ACF (a convenient abbreviation of Archetypal Child Figure): Well, APF, I have a very good, sane reason?*scratches head*?well, now, come to mention it? Well, here we are, a forum stuffed with angst-lovers of dubious mental health. Friends, Romans?er?fanfictionmen, lend me your eloquence! Are we crazy or what? What is it about darkness, despair, general misery, and the odd black cape that fascinates us? Obviously we don?t want it to happen to us. If I read/wrote what I wanted to happen to me personally, my mind would be a gooey slab of Luke mush. It?s not, though. It?s a frozen wasteland of Luke angst peppered here and there with mush. So?What say you? Why do you think we're not all loony as the moon? Archetypal loons, that is.