In general, we, as humans, like a sense of closure when it comes to literature; Ambiguous endings are generally considered an easy way out of a novel. However, in John Fowles' novel The French Liutenant's Woman, the ambiguity does not come from a lack of ending, but rather from two endings to the same plot. At first, it seemed like Fowles just couldn't make up his mind and choose an ending, and the easiest solution seemed to be to add another one. Upon closer examination, however, one can't help but wonder why he would, seemingly out of nowhere, add another ending when the first one is perfectly adequate and would have been more than enough to satisfy a reader. It is clear, however, that Fowles obviously does not approve of this overly clichéd and stereotypical Victorian ending to his novel, and therefore feels the need to add a second outcome to the lives of Charles Smithson and Sarah Woodruff, the "French lieutenant... Woman” (9). This somewhat unnecessarily inserted ending poses a question to the reader: does Fowles really believe in the possibility of his first ending? If he does, what's the point of adding the second one? Quite simply, the insertion of the second ending in complete juxtaposition with the first makes it clear that Fowles prefers the latter conclusion to the former. In essence, it “clearly settles the fight” between the two ends in favor of the more existential of the two. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”? Get an original essay Throughout the novel, Charles is faced with several difficult choices regarding his personal life. During this fateful first appearance of Sarah at the end of the Cobb, Charles must deal with the conflicting feelings that arise within him about his current situation with his fiancée, Ernestina Freeman. It's clear that all is not well between him and his future wife, but when he tells his uncle, "I was looking for the right girl too." And I didn’t find it” (17). Why does Sarah, a woman he doesn't even know, seem to have such a profound effect on his emotional state? Charles feels a lot for her, and through a few chance encounters (and a few not so chance encounters), the two men seem to develop even stronger feelings for each other. Eventually, however, their infidelity is discovered and Charles feels that he and Sarah should no longer see each other. It is through this separation that the two different endings come into play. The narrator, depicted as a passenger in the same carriage as Charles, reveals that two possibilities can occur and that we, the readers, must therefore deal with both. The first ending is presented as a very Victorian depiction of a lost love that has resurfaced thanks to Charles' dedication to his search for Sarah. His lawyer and friend, Montague, relays the message that Sarah has been found in London, and Charles, as soon as he receives her apparent address by mail, immediately does everything in his power to go find her. She is now called Mrs. Roughwood and lives in “a respectable family residence” where “she is presumably a governess” (439). He ventures to the house and his recognition of Sarah is unmistakable: “Charles was stunned. For it was the face he knew; a face he had once even listened to for an hour or more with Ernestina at his side” (442). The two begin to discuss their past and the progress they have made in the other's absence. Charles fears that Sarah has left him, but she unorthodoxly reveals that is not the case when she introduces him to their child, a daughter named.