Tonight we finished watching the first (only, to date) season of “Little Mosque on the Prairie”. It started out a little stiff, but it loosened up as it went along. I enjoyed it. I’d heard about the show on NPR some months ago - it’s set in a small town on the Canadian prairie, focused on a small group of Muslims living everyday life while adhering to the tenets of their faith. It’s light and funny. Dex and I were trying to imagine how the same premise would play out if it were produced in America. Yeah, not the same.
We are poised now to start watching the second season of the British show “Life on Mars”. It’s dark and mysterious and thoroughly addictive. A little time travel, an underlying mystery, some 70’s nostalgia, and some basic police show plots supporting the whole structure.
Of course, we are heading into the final episodes of “The Sopranos”. It has been a crazy ride. I won’t say anything about this season, in case you are not caught up. Contemplating how it might all wrap up, I realized that I won’t feel completely satisfied no matter how it plays out. It’s not that they can’t do the story justice. Rather, it’s my whole short story problem.
I don’t care much for short stories. I always finish one with a slight sense of disappointment. The genre is well-suited to a strong plot. However, contemporary, character-driven fiction cannot be consumed in small doses. Just as I am getting invested in the lives of the characters, the story ends. I’m left dangling.
I am a reader and viewer who needs to know what happens in the end. I loved the last episode of “Six Feet Under”. They showed us exactly how each character’s life plays out in the end (literally). As I watched the final scene of “Little Mosque” I felt a pang. What if they don’t make a second season? It’s not a big deal, really, but I’ve just gotten to know these people and now they are stepping back out of my life.
Wow. I sound a little nuts. Trust me, I know they’re not real.
As I watch the kids around me, my own and those of my friends, grow and change into real people, I find myself wondering where their lives will take them. Who will they be in ten years as they graduate high school? Will any of the neighborhood kids still be friends? What passions will drive them? It’s interesting - really, a privilege - to witness the early years of these lives and I know someday I will find myself saying to Edward, “I wonder what ever happened to your friends, So and So.” Of course, we’ll just head to the computer to Google ‘em!
1 response so far ↓
1 -db // May 28, 2007 at 9:14 am
“I am a reader and viewer who needs to know what happens in the end.”
When I was 13, I was hooked on old movies…Cary Grant and other black and whites… It wasn’t until I was older that I learned how the War affected the movies. I was disappointed to learn what a sucker I was for the manipulation.
Then there were all my Literature classes. I didn’t find the books depressing in the larger context. But today, I just can’t get into current fiction (and movies). I hate some of the places that the writers take me… I find the real world depressing enough, especially now that I have kids.
Oh, and I love a good spoiler, unlike most people I know. I want to see how they get from point A to point B. I have been known to skip ahead and read the last line of a book in the middle of the story (but most of the time it didn’t make any sense until I was there, anyway).
I have even done this on my blog reading (sort of). I am reading a blog by a young woman and am enjoying it so much, I went back and started reading her archived entries. So, I already know what happens in her future. I know she didn’t choose the guy, but she’s doing really well by going in a different direction.
I know, control issues.
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