Romance novels - literary digests filled with nothing but bittersweet love triangles, unrequited love, infatuation, and lust, sell so well because people like to feel emotion. We'll cry our eyes out when the fictional heroine has to choose between the dark handsome stranger or her blonde blue-eyed sweetheart, ache with anguish when she chooses wrongly, and rejoice when she eventually sees the light. They mirror such basic, primeval emotions that we'll never grow tired of experiencing them over and over again.
I'm no exception, I've read all of J. Auel's "Earth's Children" series, but I keep coming back to no. 3, The Mammoth Hunters, which is essentially a love triangle set against a people's survival in a prehistoric era. Each time, the empathy for the characters grows, and you start to tear whether you like it or not. Guys'll go "Why suffer like that?", and to be honest, I don't know either, but excuse me while I dry my eyes. +sniff+
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