The merits of endings

In art, the best endings usually leave some things unsaid. Now, clearly I am setting you up for some broad, sweeping generalizations about life, but in art it is especially clear that the most moving works are left final, but not fully resolved. To me it’s really interesting that culturally we can be more satisfied with a lack of completeness than an all-telling story.

In some aspects of pop culture, especially in movies, this can be pretty obvious. There better be something more to say, or else there won’t be a sequel. On the other end of the spectrum, gaps in the plot or intentionally withheld information leave room for fans to discuss, hypothesize and argue. Some good modern examples include "Inception," "Black Swan," and "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind." One clear reason for choosing the open ending is to generate buzz and potential publicity for the movie.

But most directors don’t like to think of themselves as financial machines; ambiguity is also an artistic decision. For instance, at the end of "Inception" it is left unclear whether the main character, Cobb, is still dreaming or if he has woken up and safely returned home. Especially right after the movie's release this was a common debate topic both in conversation and online forums. Really though, it doesn’t matter if he is still asleep or not. Cobb has dealt with the guilt associated with his wife’s death and can now enjoy time with his children. Realizing that some things are irrelevant is usually much more beautiful than a laundry list of evidence explaining a story’s conclusion.

The artistry in the non-ending is also common in music. Classical has the half cadence, leaving listeners feeling up in the air and stuck. Jazz has similar techniques, either ending on a chord that’s not strictly in the key or ending the melody on the nine of the chord, which gives an unresolved, unsettling feeling. What’s interesting is these uncomfortable endings are kept across musical forms. In hip hop a rapper might cut off syllables from their last line or end with an unrhymed line to call attention to the closing or avoid a cliche tagline. The presence of non-endings across forms and styles shows that we somehow get a deep satisfaction from a lack of finality.

Besides for clear, unambiguous conclusions being boring, they also give a sense of finality that we are perhaps more uncomfortable with than simply being left up in the air, free to make what we can from the end. This way, people can walk away from an ending with their own interpretation and be happy with it. Culturally this contentedness with our own conclusions might imply a level of narcissism. We love endings that leave some information out, allowing us to fill it in with respect to our own ideas about how the world. Still, that’s an overly dark and critical interpretation of an aspect of art that I actually really enjoy.

Open, murky endings allow us to discuss and connect with others as we contemplate works that better reflect the complete non endings that accompany life. As we talk about these facets of art it starts to become apparent that endings are human inventions of human constructs, mirroring how we like to package and give meaning to events that may hold some importance for us. Art and its endings function in this way, providing hints at our values and desires for our society.

At the same time, though, sometimes all you can take from a non-ending is that we are not all-knowing. Sometimes I think we’re obsessed with pursuing knowledge and in this chase we can forget the important meanings to take from a work. Looking at "Inception" again, if Cobb was obsessed about whether he was in a dream or reality then he would never enjoy being at home with his children. In music too, critics can analyze a lack of finality for as long as they want, usually until we want them to start wrapping up. Still, they miss the point. These non-endings give a certain feeling and atmosphere, and sometimes we just need to accept that as it is.

Gary Hoffman is a Trinity junior and Local Arts Editor.