I came across Solon the 5th century BC Greek legislator and poet in college while doing my Honours in history. I think he started the world's journey towards democracy but it was his philosophy that really caught my eye. "Call no man happy until he is dead." You don't get anything more profound than this.
Take Shah Jehan, Dara Shukoh, Bahadur Shah Zafar as examples or Napoleon. The builder of Taj Mahal imprisoned, Dara author of Mazma-ul-Baharain beheaded, Zafar exiled to Rangoon and Napoleon poisoned. A happy death was not for them.
In the realm of fiction, the meaninglessness of the deaths of Cordelia and Lear in King Lear strike chords of unrelieved grief. Cordelia who is faultless dies in a dungeon. Lear dies of grief. Edmund the king to be is killed. There are no redemptions. The misery is worse than that of Job.
Hamlet too sojourns through a landscape of death. 9 out of 11 central characters die including the King and Hamlet himself. They are killed, poisoned or in Ophelia's case commit suicide. Some have suggested hamartia (fault in character) and its working out. If you are guilty you must die or its somewhat puzzling reverse if you die you are guilty. The point remains. No one dies happy bearing out the truth of Solon's great pronouncement.
I read and re-read Murakami's The Elephant Vanishes. There is a zoo with land that would bring greater economic benefits if utilized for constructing apartments. The animals have to go elsewhere. All animals find a home save and except an old elephant whom nobody wants. A place for him is found near the periphery of the town. Along with him goes his keeper Watanabe. Then one day the elephant and his keeper just vanish into thin air. The tethering steel chain is intact, the gate and boundary wall are undisturbed, there are no footprints of the animal. The elephant just vanishes. Erased. Death as vanishing. As erasure. No trumpets. No fanfare. Just nothingness. Did the elephant and its keeper die happy? We shall never know.
The Japanese 17th century classic, Unfettered Mind by Takuan Sōhō. It is about letters written by a Zen master to an expert swordsman. The sword occupies a unique place in Japanese culture being both an instrument of attack and defence and philosophy. It is the sword, the spiritual exercise and the unfettered mind which are the pivot of these letters. With patience and practice the three should become one. Our enemies like greed, anger and hesitancy are to be cut down with "the celerity and decisiveness of the stroke of a sword".
Takuan Sōhō's thoughts on his own death were remarkable. He had attained fame across all sections of society. Despite this he wrote to his disciples, "Bury my body in the mountain behind the temple, cover it with dirt and go home. Read no sutras, hold no ceremony. Receive no gifts from either monk nor laity. Let the monks wear their robes, eat their meals and carry on as on normal days." At his final moment he wrote the Chinese character "yume" (dream), put down his brush and died. Solon would have been happy. Here at last was a person who happily died. Nothing contrary has been heard about Sōhō's death.