AP Literature 2A
Final Essay
Tragedy and Inspiration
        In many ways, what I received from the AP Literature class was exactly what I expected, as well as what I wanted: the chance to read books that are typically acknowledged as having “literary merit.” Stories have always been a part of my life, and thinking about stories has always been something I loved. When I was wonder, I rejected classic literature as unnecessary for reasons that I cannot quite recall. I believe had to do with a general disdain for anything that wasn't fantasy; I wanted from my stories adventure, suspense, magic, and absolutely nothing else. I grew out of that well before attending this this class, thankfully, but I do not think it would be fair to say that I read thoughtlessly, even at that time. Indeed, I frequently spent long hours speculating about what would come next in and after the stories I read. As I grew, I started finding my stories in other forms of media along with books, but no matter what form a story took, I would put a great deal of thought into it. I would stop in the middle of an episode of anime, because the plot threads demanded that I take a moment to process them, to sort them out and figure out where they were going. As you might imagine, I would become very attached to the characters in the process. Over time, I was able to pinpoint what I liked about stories that I chose for entertainment: they had fascinating, rich conflicts. The characters suffered. But these stories were ultimately about the characters overcoming the conflicts they faced and earning a happy ending. These stories left me feeling inspired and happy. One could even say I gained a sense of hope from them, and I still do. This led me to think about why I do not tend to enjoy classic works of literature more, even now. I started to wonder what separated them from stories that I would delve into for pleasure, once I got over that silly little phase of accepting nothing but fantasy. Classic literature is, with perhaps a few exceptions- or rather, with a few works that I subjectively disagree with- beautiful written and often contains thoroughly developed characters. Yet I never truly liked them. I respected them, I came to see their value, but I never liked them. It has, in fact, occurred to me that whether I like them or not is ultimately unimportant. These works are often meant to send a message, and they do so effectively, often through their use of tragic elements or even by simply being a tragedy. That, I realized, was my answer. It is a terrible feeling to become attached to characters and watch their downfall, to wish to change their fate and yet be powerless to do so. Tragedy has its value to share messages, but to be all but bombarded with little else throughout a literature class seems unfortunate, and this class has left me with the belief that the value of a happy ending should not be forgotten. The question that I would raise, in the end, is this: Can change be triggered through inspiration provided by the written word, as well as the discomfort created by it?
      One of the clearest examples of a tragedy we looked at in this class was the play Oedipus Rex, in which the king of