Vast majority of this post was deleted for the sake of coherency. It's okay to regret your midnight or later mistakes.
Literature, more so present day, uses very little melodrama. Hollywood loves this crap. Many of you love this crap. I'm sorry, but it's crap. Sometimes it's so well done that it's believable when you're watching for entertainment, but upon examining it, putting yourself in that position, you'll probably realize "Uh...why the fuck are you crying, (wo)man?!" There are exceptions to this. There are times when crying and other heart-jerking scenes are appropriate. I'll list the ones I know, but there are probably a few more. Death of someone close to the narrator, rape or some other traumatic event, and failure to achieve something the character worked really hard for, and children.
Children (I'd go with pre-puberty as a general rule) tug on our heart strings for some psychological reason. Probably because we've all been there and children cry a lot easier than we do and when we see children cry, we want to cry. We've had similar experiences as these children, some difficult or possibly trivial event that shattered our happy world.
The best example in Literature that I've found is Thomas Wolfe's "The Lost Boy." Content-wise, it might be the greatest story. Simple, relateable but still sort of novel, and vivid characters. It's about Thomas Wolfe (he uses another name for his character in the story but I can't remember the name) and how he lost his brother, Grover, when he was three or four years old. He doesn't remember his brother, so he asks his dad for a story about him (which is told through first-person through Grover's eyes), then his mom for a story about him, then his sister. Dad tells a story where he stood up for his 12 year-old son who was always acting like an adult but came to tears because of some mean shopkeepers. Then his mom brags about how mature he was and how he could talk to adults like an adult. Thomas Wolfe was the most successful of the family, but if 12 year old Grover hadn't died, he would've been twice the man of Thomas Wolfe. His sister tells him about how her little brother always acted like the older one and he would treat her to a meal and ice cream every now and then and it was so special, but then at the end of one, he threw it all up and a few days later died. And none of this is too hard to handle for a cynic like me. It's touching and it's well-done and realistic, but it's not enough to make me cry. Then it goes to present day, in the mid 1930's, where Thomas Wolfe is going back to the home Grover died in and he's asking the lady who lives there now to see it and he reminisces about it and it's implied that he's sort of lost himself. Again, it's not too much. But the tears are definitely coming. The final scene, about a page long, is the one memory Thomas Wolfe digs up of Grover. Thomas Wolfe is three or so. Grover is eleven.
The years dropped off like fallen leaves: the face came back again-the soft dark oval, the dark eyes, the soft brown berry on the neck, the raven hair, all bending down, approaching-the whole appearing to him ghost-wise, intent and instant.
"Now say it-- Grover!"
"Gova."
"No-- not Gova-- Grover! ... Say it!"
"Gova."
"Ah-h-- you didn't say it. You said Gova. Grover-now say it!"
"Gova."
"Look, I tell you what I'll do if you say it right. Would you like to go down to King's Highway? Would you like Grover to set you up? All right, then. If you say Grover and say it right, I'll take you to King's Highway and set you up to ice cream. Now say it right! Grover!"
"Gova."
"Ah-h, you-u. You're the craziest little old boy I ever did see. Can't you even say Grover?"
"Gova."
"Ah-h, you-u. Old Tongue-Tie, that's what you are.... Well, come on, then, I'll set you up anyway."
And this might not mean much to you, since it's only an excerpt, but this is what gets me. Even now. It's not what's sad that makes me cry. It's a sad set-up and a happy memory that does it, in that order. It's the bittersweet effect. The scene of him dying and Thomas Wolf's own issues have hardened you and suddenly you're hit with this happy end (there's a little more but it's not important right now) that comes from the past. You're not ready for it and you cry. Or at least I do.
Disclaimer: I by no means think English, Literature and writing are harder majors than other fields. Simply that it requires more care when reading because secondary sources aren't going to tell you anything more than what you could find out from the book. The only secondary sources that are worthwhile are the ones referenced in the book like, Northanger Abbey referencing The Mysteries of Udolfo. You need to read both to get the full effect. And other fields, it's different. And for those of you thinking "I've taken literature courses and skimmed the first half of the book and still got an A! Don't give me that shit!" those are introductory-style (maybe not level) courses with professors who have eased up on their demands for folks like yourself. That would be like me taking a Calc course and getting an A after not trying or a Chem course and immediately declaring that they're easy so all of those courses are. That is called a hasty generalization and is a fallacy.
Sidenote: I don't praise too many living people for their skill. Allie Brosh of Hyperbole and a Half would be one of the exceptions, but the second is Tiffyiffyiffy. She's the girl from the youtube video I linked in the last post. She just put up a new video and it's amazing. It's an original track and I want you to listen.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vX2Jqs6vPLc&feature=feedu
Edited, but all of this is still meh. I apologize. Still listen to that girl.
-Cantwhistle
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