Life and Death in Literature

Some authors kill off their characters. Sometimes it's sudden, sometimes it's drawn out, and sometimes it's so unexpected that we can't believe it when we turn the page. But why do they do it? Why create a character with so much effort, make us love them, and then kill them with a bullet, a knife or simply leave them to die a silent death? While writing another story, I thought about this topic and wanted to share my thoughts. There is no single sentence that can sum up the reasons behind this, but they all make sense.

The simplest answer that comes to mind is that it's simply what the story requires. Not everything that happens is meaningful or leads to something else. Things just happen and are experienced. Moreover, the death of one character affects the others. It can breed revenge, shatter hope, and instil fear. When the hero dies, those left behind gain a more realistic perspective. They are wounded, but more human. Just like life itself. When the people we love are absent, we inevitably reshape ourselves. Writers seem to do the same. They tell the reader, “Look, this is life.” Death is as natural as life. Moreover, a story can sometimes feel incomplete without the death of a character. This void makes us feel more connected to the story and its characters.

Photo by Wietse Jongsma on Unsplash

However, sometimes something deeper is at play.

Some authors kill off their characters because they love them so much. They love their characters so much that ending their lives seems more merciful than allowing them to continue suffering. Life can be painful, exhausting and draining. Although it may seem paradoxical, death can be seen as a kind of escape. It's the author's way of saying, “I won't make you suffer any more.” It's a way of saying, “I couldn't bear it, and neither could they.” Sometimes, I think that death resembles a final, loving gift torn from the author's heart. This can lead the reader to accept it with a bittersweet sense of relief.

From another perspective, some authors aim to make us feel uneasy. They want us to believe that “nobody is safe”. They do this to remind us that not everything is as it should be, and to show that chaos exists. This is why they kill off the characters we love. They kill them off unexpectedly, forcing us out of our comfort zones. “You too could lose someone one day,” says the author. As we read about the pain of that loss, we are once again confronted with the reality of death. It's painful, but there's also a strange consolation in this: we are not alone. Consider Ned Stark's death scene in the popular series “Game of Thrones”, for example. Initially, everyone thought he would somehow escape this fate. But afterwards, we realised that the author had chosen the most honest way to show us that “life isn't fair”. By killing off a major character so early on, the author revealed the kind of series it would be.

Sometimes, the writer overcomes their own fears. As we have mentioned, writers often leave part of themselves in their work. In this case, the writer may become the character, either consciously or unconsciously. By killing off the hero they have created, they are perhaps saying, “I too can die.” Alternatively, they may be saying, “I too can love, can lose.” This death can be seen as the writer confronting their shadow self. Perhaps it is atonement, paying a debt or settling accounts. You may recall Hemingway's novel “For Whom the Bell Tolls”. In it, Hemingway essentially works through his own war wounds and fear of death through his characters. You may also be familiar with Javier Cercas's novel “The Speed of Light”, in which he achieves a similar feat with two characters. When the main character dies, the author seems to feel a little lighter. He lets go of a burden, shares it with the reader and emerges from the 'therapy session' with a clear head.

Conversely, the characters' journey also ends in death. Some heroes cannot develop any other way. A radical and sharp change is necessary. For instance, mentor figures must die so that those left behind can embark on their personal quests. Their death carries the moral weight of the story. Readers also become attached to these characters, believing that a new and positive chapter will follow their loss. Death marks the end of a character's development.

Of course, an author sometimes kills off a character purely for shock value. This is done to shock the reader, increase the tension and create the feeling that “anything can happen”. However, this is the most dangerous approach. If executed poorly, the reader may lose interest and sever their connection with the author. If executed well, however, the death can become the most powerful scene in the book. It becomes the book's most powerful scene. Personally, I prefer to save this for the very end. Moreover, the unexpected nature of the death increases its memorability.

Ultimately, authors kill off their heroes because they want to depict life. Not life itself, but life as described through death, which seems to be its opposite and enemy. It's like comparing the warmth of a house with the cold, unwelcoming atmosphere outside. One of the most certain things in life is death. A writer cannot truly be said to have written unless death features in their stories. After all, killing a character is the ultimate act of love. Sometimes, it is also the writer's way of saying, “Enough now. The time has come. It's time to say goodbye”. Yet, as readers, we emerge from those pages a little more wounded each time. Perhaps that is why we continue to read. We know that new characters will emerge.

There are no winners in this cycle, yet we love reading, even though we know our favourite characters will eventually leave us.