Aaron Brickle

When is a person the least happy? At what point is someone so distressed that they are the farthest they will ever be from happiness? Is it right after tragedy has struck? Right before? Or, one might argue that the greatest distance from happiness is found when a person is forced to sit on the edge of disaster, helpless to prevent its outcome, but not knowing exactly what that outcome will be. Such distress and tension pushes our imaginations to the limit. However, fiction writer Kathryn Craft captures it very well in her dramatic 2015 novel, The Far End of Happy. When reading this book, it is easy to see how that feeling of teetering on the brink of calamity could truly take you to the farthest point from pleasure, and leave you anything but happy.

The novel is told from the third-person limited perspectives of three different women. All three are forced to experience the horror of dealing with one man’s suicidal outburst. The man’s wife, Ronnie Farnham, is forced to watch as her husband, Jeff, tries to destroy the life they worked hard to build. Unfortunately, we learn as the story unfolds that their marriage was almost over already, and that this was not the first time Jeff had threatened suicide.

Professionally a bartender, Jeff struggles with alcoholism. This problem has, by the beginning of the story, gotten him into a notable amount of trouble. The three perspective characters are Jeff’s wife, Ronnie; Jeff’s mother, Janet; and Ronnie’s mother, Beverly. Taking place in a twelve hour period, these women are placed in a firehouse for protection, sitting in rigid anxiety while Jeff lies barricaded in his house with a shotgun. Jeff engages in a standoff with the police, at times threatening the officers, taking a shot at his own mother once, and, by the end of the story, taking his own life.

Looking at the story mechanically, the reader realizes that Jeff is only a MacGuffin: this means that he exists only so that we can learn about the three protagonists of the story. Like cinema’s classic example of the statue of the Maltese Falcon, he is oft mentioned but rarely seen. Even though he is the focus of the plot, the real story is not about him at all. Conceivably, his character only really serves two purposes; firstly, Jeff highlights the emotions of the other characters, providing us a detailed look at how each of these women who care deeply about the man act when put in a devastating situation. The second purpose of Jeff’s character is to emphasize the dangers of alcoholism—a theme I perceive as being critical to the underpinnings of the novel. Potentially, one could view him as representative of a third theme, similar to that of alcoholism: suicide.

Alcoholism, or even just substance abuse in general, is a serious problem in America today. According to research statistics posted by the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism, about sixteen-and-a-half million adults in the United States alone suffer from an AUD, or “Alcohol Use Disorder,” which is roughly sixteen-and-a-half-million people too many who are faced with this challenge. Craft was clearly trying to tap into this in The Far End of Happy as we witness the desolation brought upon a decent family by this pestilence that is alcoholism.

I myself have seen the horrors that substance abuse can cause, having many alcoholics and drug users in my extended family. I have watched as my father has struggled to overcome the emotional damage he received from his alcoholic father when he was a child. That part of the story makes sense to me, and I see it as a powerful topic, and an important and oft under-represented issue.

Similarly, suicide seems to be a grossly neglected topic in the popular theater, which is far more egregious and sinister in nature than the evils of alcohol. Terrible to the last, suicide takes away permanently. There is hope for Ronnie and her family throughout the story, vague and distant though it may seem. But in the end, when Jeff finally pulls the trigger, that hope is gone.

There is no return from death, and the end of this story leaves us with very little room for comfort. Suicide is one of those topics which makes people extremely uncomfortable. Yet we all know someone who has tried it, or has succeeded. Suicide effects us all at some point in our lives. Why then are we afraid to engage the subject? What is it about this issue that we so dread? Unfortunately, until more people are willing to openly discuss the problem of suicide, we may never know.

As a side note, a feature of the novel that was very well done was part of Beverly’s backstory. Readers discover throughout that she has been married multiple times. However, it is not until the very end of the book that we learn that she lost her first husband to suicide. Well played Ms. Craft, well played.

On the other side of the reviewing spectrum, one of the novel’s drawbacks was that I could not connect with the characters very well. I understand that this may only affect me, but it is a point of personal contention I had with the book. I say it may only affect me in this way because of my background. Coming from a very stable, very sheltered home, I find myself unable to relate to the majority of these characters.

Many of them, especially Ronnie and her own mother, come from extremely unstable, chaotic, or unhealthy living situations—Beverly in particular. Her history is so foreign to any of my familial experience that I simply cannot relate to her. Ronnie, growing up in such an unstable home, comes from a side of life which I myself have never been to. She grew up with a mother who married and divorced multiple times; I have only ever had my two parents and they have always been very secure in their relationship. So aside from having extended family members who have been alcoholics, I essentially have no grounds on which to relate to these characters.

This drawback being inconsequential, the novel is overall quite good. With a smattering of realistic profanity, and brief discussions of sexuality, this book could not be recommended for children—but then, books about alcoholism and suicide rarely can. Hitting the hard topics clearly and effectively, Kathryn Craft’s novel truly lives up to its title. It drags readers moaning and groaning to the farthest end of happy, and then leaves them there to wallow in the despair of its grieving protagonists. All in all, this book is definitely worth the struggle.