Why Fiction Turns Even War and Tragedy into Romance
- Iris Kuraki
- Apr 30
- 4 min read
Titanic and Till We Meet Again On The Lily Hill (Japanese novel adapted movie of war)
A few years ago, I remember watching Titanic on TV during the day. Later, while scrolling through Twitter, I came across a post claiming the same film had been shown aboard a tourist boat.
Nothing actually happened, thankfully. It became one of those dark jokes people share online.
Still, I couldn’t help laughing at the irony: a movie about a sinking ship being screened on a ship.
That moment stayed with me, and it led me to a bigger question.
In a previous article, I explored why real crimes and criminals often become the basis for fiction. This time, I want to look at something even more sensitive:
Why do stories turn war and tragedy into romance?
The Perfection and Paradox of Titanic
Everyone knows Titanic is based on the real 1912 disaster.
Director James Cameron pursued realism obsessively; minimizing CGI, reconstructing the ship in detail, and even giving up part of his own salary to complete the film.
The production stories are intense:
Kate Winslet reportedly suffered hypothermia after filming in cold water without a wetsuit
Actors were injured during flooding scenes
Stunt performers broke bones on tilted sets simulating the sinking ship
Over 150 extras were trained to behave like real passengers from 1912
Even unseen props were meticulously crafted under expert supervision
All of this contributes to the film’s power. It feels real. It stays with you.
But here’s the tension.
This isn’t just a disaster film. It’s a love story.
And that raises an uncomfortable question:
How do survivors or families of victims feel watching their tragedy framed as romance?
When War Meets Romance
The same question applies to Till We Meet Again On The Lily Hill, based on a novel by Natsue Shiomi.
The story follows a modern high school girl who time-slips back to wartime Japan and falls in love with a young man destined to become a kamikaze pilot.
It’s marketed as War × Youth × Love Story
The author has been clear about her intentions:
Don’t let the memory of war fade
Encourage people to appreciate peace
Those are meaningful goals.
But when my family watched the film, their reaction to the ending was simple:
“That’s it?”
Despite the emotional scenes—a farewell letter, a tragic fate—the message didn’t fully land for them.
And that’s the risk.
When tragedy is romanticized, the original message can become diluted.
What Does “Romanticize” Really Mean?
The word romanticize has become increasingly common, especially on social media.
It means:
To idealize
To beautify
To portray something more attractively than it really is
You’ve probably seen phrases like, “Romanticize your life.”
It’s about finding beauty in ordinary moments, coffee, walks, quiet routines.
That’s harmless. Even positive.
But when applied to war or tragedy, it becomes more complicated.
Why Romance Gets Added
There are two main reasons creators use tragedy as a backdrop.
1. To prevent history from being forgotten
Films like Titanic vividly recreate events, making them unforgettable.
Even if you’ve never studied the disaster, the imagery stays with you.
2. To make people care
Let’s be honest.
If a story only shows suffering, many people won’t engage with it.
News and documentaries already exist for that.
So creators add something universal, Romance.
Because romance draws people in.
But here’s the uncomfortable version of that logic:
What if a creator said,
“We just wanted to tell a love story.”
“We happened to find a war or tragedy that fit.”
“So we combined them.”
That starts to feel less like storytelling, and more like commercializing tragedy.
War and disasters are real.
Victims are real.
Families are real.
So I believe, if you’re going to use tragedy, the message must come first, not the romance.
Do We Need Romance at All?
At the same time, removing romance entirely isn’t an easy answer either.
Pure depictions of war or disaster can be overwhelming.
Especially for younger audiences, some kind of emotional “buffer” is often necessary.
Romance works because:
It’s universally relatable
It softens harsh realities
It keeps audiences engaged
In that sense, romance acts as a cushion.
But it doesn’t have to be the only one.
For example, in Till We Meet Again On The Lily Hill, there’s also a time-slip element.
If the story leaned more into science fiction or psychological themes, it might preserve the message without over-romanticizing the setting.
My Approach as a Writer
Personally, I want to write stories that explore human nature without relying on:
Excessive romanticization
Shock value
Graphic depiction
Instead, I focus on mystery and psychological depth.
Stories where readers are drawn in not by spectacle, but by curiosity.
If You Enjoy Thoughtful Mysteries
My English novella Whoever Fights This Man blends:
Puzzle-solving
Subtle romance
Social themes
without explicit violence or disturbing content.
It follows a college student studying criminal psychology who becomes involved in solving a case.
Final Thought
Romance is powerful. That’s exactly why it’s used so often.
But when paired with war or tragedy, it becomes a double-edged sword.
It can help people connect or blur what truly matters.
And maybe the real question isn’t “Why do we romanticize tragedy?”
But, “What are we willing to overlook in order to feel something?”
This blog was originally posted on note in Japanese. The link is below:
Comments