John and Savannah are lovers kept apart by the contrivances of writer Nicholas Sparks' cruel, cruel world. Oh, they try so hard to be together, but the obstacles of logic and common sense keep getting in the way. Like a capricious God, The Notebook author doth smite them for such hubris in the face of their higher purpose – to act as ciphers for middle-aged women's need for a good cry.
In one scene Savannah cries in the arms of her beloved, “I had no choice!” she sobs, quite rightly, as Sparks sacrifices her mercilessly in the pursuit of effective tear-scrounging narrative. In Sparks' world, John must endlessly extend his U.S. army duties, and Savannah, rather than stoically wait this out, must marry the neighbor with terminal cancer and an autistic son. So unable to bear the hurt of her love's continued absence, she sees tending to a dying man preferable. That's how much Sparks wants us to know that she loves John. In fact, her self-flagellation is the only way we really know Savannah does love John, because the 10-minute montage of soft-focus mooning, tickling and kissing that details the two-week affair before their separation just doesn't sell it very well.
