Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps

““...looking at the million book spines, I can imagine a million alternate endings. It turned out the butler did it all, or I ended up marrying Mr. Darcy, or we went and watched a girl ride the merry-go-round in Central Park, or we beat on against the current in our little boats, or Atticus Finch was there when we woke up in the morning.””

— Rebecca Makkai, The Borrower

I was reading a new book the other night and really enjoying it - OK, it was fairly trashy, but who cares? It was fun, it didn't involve an awful of of brain power and it was slightly naughty. If I'd had some chocolate and a glass of wine, I would have been in hog's heaven. As it was, I had to settle for just the glass of wine, but beggars can't be tipsy choosers.

I was zooming through the pages (or rather zooming through the iPad flips) when I got to the end.  

And it SUCKED.  

It was a complete cop-out. The iPad went thump on the sofa - if it had been a real book it would have possibly gone sailing off the balcony and started a brief new life as a seagull yacht. The ending ruined the entire book for me, and put me in a stinky mood for at least three hours (well, a stinkier mood... no chocolate, remember?) 

It made me think though about all of the iconic novels I had read. Ernest Hemingway wrote 47 different endings to A Farewell To Arms. Forty. Seven. What if Catherine hadn't carked it? And then there's Gone With The Wind - what if Rhett had given a damn? 

I know that there are a lot of 'variation' books out and about - especially in Jane Austen land - but they usually are a 'now on with our story' or have the same ending, just a different storyline to get there. So being me, I have decided to give five classic capers my own 'what if' and see whether I have hits on my hands - or just get hit.  

Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows:

Harry dies. Properly. Snape doesn't - we all know he got a pretty raw deal the whole way through and he needs a break. Hermione decides Ron is far too ginger for her and runs off with Malfoy, because let's face it, he's pretty damn hot and she had a secret thing for bad boys. They found an evil magic empire which is so successful it turns the British economy around, the Muggle Royal Family gets evicted and King Mal and Queen H are installed to wild applause. 

Pride And Prejudice:

Despite looking really, really fabbo in breeches, Lizzy realises that Darcy is in fact very arsey and isn't likely to change his spots anytime soon. She decides marriage would be a trap and a half and instead scandalises Longbourn by going on the stage and becoming the best known actress of her time. Mrs Bennet loses the plot entirely and simultaneously the power of speech (yay). Darcy marries Caroline Bingley and is miserable but his family is happy so bad luck.

Jane and Bingley can still get married because they're both drips. 

The Great Gatsby:

Jay realises what a complete git he has been by asking Daisy to say she had never loved Tom. They hoof it to Paris with Pally in tow. Tom realises Daisy was in fact incredibly boring, decides discretion is the better part of valour, and marries Jordan. She ends up murdering him with a golf club for messing around with a variety of Myrtles. Nick makes his fortune on the stock exchange and never writes another word, which is a shame but hey - he's rich and happy. He'll settle.

Gone With The Wind:

Melly doesn't cark it, and she and Ashley have lots of incredibly geeky kids, one of whom is Bill Gates' great-great-great-grandfather. Scarlett becomes a nun. Rhett becomes President. Scarlett re-thinks the convent because she likes the idea of being Mrs President. Monica Lewinsky beats her to it. Oh wait... that's a different work of fiction.

To Kill A Mockingbird: 

Forget it. I'm not touching this one.  

OK, so it was only four... but come on. Messing with Atticus, Jem, Dill and Scout?  I'd be assassinated. 

I'm thinking there are legs on a couple of these though. Maybe I have a new calling? Is there a job title called 'Wrecking Great Books Which Should Never, Ever Be Touched by Anyone, But Constantly Are?'

I am sure I can fit that on my business card somehow. I'm off... 

To read a good book.  

The Scrabble Test

““The problem with growing up,” Quentin said, “is that once you’re grown up, people who aren’t grown up aren’t fun anymore.” ”

— Lev Grossman, The Magicians

I was listening to The Great Gatsby soundtrack yesterday and in particular the Lana del Ray song 'Young and Beautiful' - well, it would be fair to say, a bit incessantly. It's a great song, and it fits the mood of Gatsby so well - the reckless hedonistic abandon of the 20s and maybe/maybe not doomed love.

It also raises a question which we all think about in one form or another, whether we are single, coupled up or somewhere in between:

"Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?"

It's something we all have to face. Time stops for no man, and it seems doubly so that it stops for no woman for some extremely unfair reason (case in point; grey hair looks better on men. I'm sorry, but it does). Growing older we soon learn who is willing to love us for us and not for pure physical appeal.

Even more importantly we learn whom we want to love ourselves.

I was talking about this with the still very very youthful and extremely beautiful Miss K the other day. We were discussing relationships (as one does) and she said 'yep, they have to pass The Scrabble Test'. And this is so very true when it comes to longevity in love.

What's The Scrabble Test? It's simple.

Think about the person you're with presently (if you are with someone - if not, think about the person you feel you'd like to be with). Now imagine the future. You're seventy or eighty years old. Believe me, it's on its way - admittedly for some of us it's closer than for others. It's after dinner on a Saturday night. You're sitting on the sofa with them, vino in hand (hey, eighty doesn't have to be boring!)

Now.

It's time to... 

Whip out the Scrabble. And whip their butts.

And laugh while you do it. 

Firstly I suppose, can you see yourself with said person at eighty? And if so, can you see yourself happily playing board games and reading together and snorting and pretty much being as much of an idiot as you are at twenty-five, or thirty-five, or forty-one?

That's The Scrabble Test.

You can call it the Trivial Pursuit Test, or the Backgammon Test, or whatever the hell you want, but my point is this; love is the sum of a whole lot of parts. And one of the biggest parts is like - and laughter.

And stupidy stupid. To quote Baldrick the Great. So make sure you bestow your affections on someone you still want to beat up over board games in years to come.

I bet they'll think you're beautiful forever.