Friday, October 09, 2009

O Tell Me the Truth About Love


I borrowed that line from W. H. Auden



but it's something I've been pondering recently, in part because I've recently come across quite a few comments about, and descriptions of, love, but also because "The International Association for the Study of Popular Romance is dedicated to fostering and promoting the scholarly exploration of all popular representations of romantic love." My research has tended to focus on some of the texts which make up a genre which is defined by the centrality of romantic love, and I only occasionally want to focus my analysis on the "representations of romantic love" in those texts. Today, although I would like to discuss "romantic love," but none of the texts which have made me think about the nature of romantic love recently were romance novels.

Lazaraspaste's blog, That Bitch Goddess, Love, takes its name "from a William James quote from a letter to H.G. Wells. Love is far more of a bitch than success ever could be" and she
postulate[s] three kinds of pairings off:

1. Looks Like It’s About Time I Got Married and Bred [...]
2. Companions in Mind Boggling Dysfunction [...]
3. The Companionate Marriage Which hardly ever happens and even when it does, it can look from the outside like either #1 or #2 depending on the day
I suppose the relationship between Harry Smith, a Brigade Major during the Peninsular war, and his wife Juana, might fall into the third category, and he certainly distinguishes it from other marriages (which I suppose one could place in the first category). Here he's describing his reaction on being told that Juana (from whom he'd been parted for a few months, while he was posted to fight in America, and she stayed in London) is well:
It is difficult to decide whether excess of joy or of grief is the most difficult to bear; but seven years' fields of blood had not seared my heart or blunted my naturally very acute feelings, and I burst into a flood of tears. "Oh, thank Almighty God." Soon I was in Panton Square, with my hand on the window of the coach, looking for the number, when I heard a shriek, "Oh Dios, la mano de mi Enrique!"1 Never shall I forget that shriek; never shall I forget the effusion of our gratitude to God, as we held each other in an embrace of love few can ever have known, cemented by every peculiarity of our union and the eventful scenes of our lives. Oh! you who enter into holy wedlock for the sake of connexions–tame, cool, amiable, good, I admit–you cannot feel what we did. That moment of our lives was worth the whole of your apathetic ones for years. We were unbounded in love for each other, and in gratitude to God for all His mercies. (from Harry Smith's autobiography)
Harry certainly seemed to think that his love for Juana was of a special and rare kind, but I wonder how many people think that the romantic love they're experiencing is boring and commonplace? Is the perception of uniqueness something induced by the experience of romantic love itself, or is it an accurate and realistic perception? Is this kind of marriage rare?

Lazaraspaste also writes that
The truth is that because love requires an upheaval both of social norms and personal comfort, that to love anyone, whether beloved or friend, mother or child, neighbor or enemy, is an act so difficult that the cynical are justified in questioning if love is even possible.
I can see how sometimes love "requires an upheaval both of social norms and personal comfort" but I don't think this can be the case for everyone, every time they fall in love in a category 3 kind of way. Over at Read React Review, though, a comment by Janine seemed to suggest that at the very least falling in love causes upheaval for the person doing the falling:
To me “Alpha and Omega” was all about the scary aspect of falling in love. I find falling in love frightening in real life, because one doesn’t know the other person well yet in the falling in love stage of relationships, and yet that person has become so important to me, so much the center of my world. Should I trust them? Should I trust my feelings for them? Where do these sudden, powerful feelings come from? Will they ever go away? Do I want them to go away? Do I want this other person to go away, or will I feel like dying if they ever leave me?
For me, that is what falling in love feels like
Does everyone find falling in love frightening? I have the impression that a lot of romance heroes do, because they fear commitment, but perhaps this may be because many of them fall in love deeply, all at once, and fear that once in it's too late to get out, because "Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds" (Shakespeare, Sonnet 116). Friends-to-lovers storylines, however, would tend to suggest the possibility that romantic love can develop gradually, between people who do know each other well, and so their love does change, from the love of friends to romantic love.

In addition to differing accounts of the process of falling in love, we can have very different protagonists. Harry Smith's autobiography was published posthumously in 1903 but Juana was only fourteen at the time of her marriage in 1812, which may shock and horrify many modern readers of her story, but at the time she would have been deemed old enough: "In the UK, the age of sexual consent for women has been set at 16 since 1885, when campaigners fought to raise it from 13 to prevent child prostitution" (BBC). Their story (which forms a very significant portion of Georgette Heyer's The Spanish Bride) might therefore seem unromantic to many modern readers, but Harry writes that when he first saw her she "inspired me with a maddening love which, from that period to this (now thirty-three years), has never abated under many and the most trying circumstances" (Chapter 8). His experience seems in stark contrast to comments I've seen on romance blogs which state that the happy endings for teenage heroines seem unrealistic. According to figures given at Dear Author (but I have no idea where they got them from), "The average age of heroine in U.S. romance novels is between 24-26 (and possibly younger in historical romance)." My impression is that heroes tend to be older than heroines. If there are certain age-ranges at which it is deemed most appropriate for heroes and heroines to find true love and which make their happy endings more believable, I wonder what the reasons are behind them. Is it possible that some readers feel that teenagers will alter too much for their love not to alter too?

And once a couple has discovered that their love is mutual and there are no impediments to them expressing that love, how should they behave towards, and feel about, each other? Again, there are differing opinions. Here's James Cobham in Steven Brust and Emma Bull's Freedom & Necessity, writing to his lover, Susan:
My companionship with you, my Goddess, seems to be as much a state of ethical house-cleaning as it is an exaltation of the spirit and a carnival of the body. Do you doubt the last two? Never doubt them. You are the fire in my nerves and blood; the heat and smoke of that burning tempers my courage and clears my vision, until I feel almost that I can see into this solid world to its theoretical bones, the shape theology calls its soul. This is the first experience of my life that makes me question what I have always believed: that death stops everything that we are, and uncreates us down to the last atom. This one thing, my feeling for you, seems too large and strong to be extinguished by the mere breaking of the box of flesh and bone that holds it. If anything is left of me after the end of my life, it will be this.
There is, I think, an assumption that romantic love is universal, and the entitlement of every human being. If what I feel for you is romantic love, I am inclined to doubt the assumption, or at least its definitions. Or is love properly defined as the urge to mate, marry, and procreate, and this staggering experience of mine something else, an uncommon frame for those things, bearing some other name? (513)
Again, there seems to be a comparison being made here between what the lover feels and Lazaraspaste's Type 1 relationship. And although I've not seen it phrased that way before, the idea of the beloved encouraging "ethical house-cleaning" isn't uncommon in romances, either, since so many heroic romance rakes are redeemed/reformed by love. James continues, however, by rejecting several popular ideas about romantic love
How can I explain this? You are not an extension of myself; a pen is an extension of myself, having life only because I've picked it up, passive, unmoving unless moved. You are not my mirror; are there people who want to look at their lovers and see nothing but themselves? You are not my conscience, my muse, or the sanctifying angel of my hearth - don't laugh, Susan, you've read that kind of nonsense in the penny-press, too. [...] No, I can't explain it, other than to say that I'm required to deal with you as I would like to deserve to be dealt with. (514-15)
James' final sentence seems to offer a remarkably gender-free and egalitarian ideal of their relationship, which is keeping with both his philosophical and political leanings, and Susan's objection to marriage: she has told him that she has "no intention of marrying [...] You've concerned yourself in the cause of freedom in this country. You hate slavery. Do you know the laws regarding marriage in England? [...] Some of them are not in the husband's power to ignore" (233).

Christopher Stasheff, in The Warlock Enraged, offers no critique of the institution of marriage, and traditional gender roles don't seem to be challenged to any great extent in the fictional universe he's created, where even the types of magic witches and warlocks can perform is governed by their biological sex,2 but he does offer an even stronger rejection of the idea that the beloved should be a sort of "conscience." Rod Gallowglass and his wife Gwen have been married for a number of years, and have four children together, but Rod is still negotiating his relationship with her:
Rod said slowly, "[...] I've always felt Rod Gallowglass is an even better thing to be, when he's with his wife Gwen."
"Thy wife?" Simon frowned. "That hath a ring of great wrongness to it. Nay, Lord Warlock - an thou dost rely on another person for thy sense of worth, thou dost not truly believe that thou hast any. Thou shouldst enjoy her company because she is herself, and is pleasing to thee, is agreeable company - not because she is a part of thee, nor because the two of thee together make thy self a worthwhile thing to be." (232)
So, after all that I'm feeling a bit daunted, lest my feelings of love aren't exceptional, exalted, unselfish, frightening, independent, companionate etc enough. Is anyone else feeling brave enough to try to tell me the the truth about love?
----

1 This can be translated as "Oh God, my Harry's hand!"

2 As Rod discovered in the first book in the series, both witches and warlocks can
'[...] wish ourselves to places that we know. All the boys can fly; the girls cannot.'
Sex-linked gene, Rod thought. Aloud, he said, 'That's why they ride broomsticks?'
'Aye. Theirs is the power to make lifeless objects do their bidding. We males cannot.'
'Aha! Another linkage. Telekinesis went with the Y-chromosomes, levitation with the X.
But they could all teleport. And read minds. (93)

11 comments:

  1. Is anyone else feeling brave enough to try to tell me the the truth about love?

    Erm...let me think about that.

    What interests me about your quotes is that they give the lie to the cliche that modern people are more in touch with our feelings. I always find it amusing how often we consciously belittle our own feelings. For example by saying "I love X to bits" instead of "I love X" etc. Were people in the past actually more honest about their feelings; more in touch with the intensity of their feelings?

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  2. Not me, not when I'm on VaCay and can't reach my best reference books. I have been married for more than 3 decades thou ... and we rarely run out of things to talk about while looking for that perfect, elusive, mountain property.

    I DO have that Georgette Heyer though, altho I've never read it: perhaps after I read it I'll share with the very erudite readers of TMT how I perceive love through Georgette Heyers googles ... because my opinions have changed over the years.

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  3. I think what all of these extracts have in common is the idea - no, not idea, but reality, for those speaking - that love is transformative. Sometimes love transforms the person and generally for the better, but if it is true love (Princess Bride fans, please here echoes of Wesley, here), it always transforms the life of the lover.

    (As an aside, the transformative nature of Love is what Christians [and I daresay other religions] say about the love of God. If you truly believe that God loves you, if you enter wholeheartedly into a love relationship with God, you will be changed. You will think and feel and act differently. Please note, I am not trying to evangelise here, just making an observation that seems apposite. It seems that whenever people find a big love, whether it be romantic, maternal, Godly, brothers in arms or whatever, it brings with it change.)

    The extent to which it makes their lives new and different is what staggers these lovers and makes them think that surely not everyone can be so rocked, shocked and moved by love, or however would they go about their daily lives looking so ordinary?

    But this is the magic of love. It moves those in the relationship, exclusively. Often to those outside it, the magnitude of feeling experienced by the lovers can seem incomprehensible, even laughable. How often do we hear some variant of "I don't know what she sees in him"?

    This is why good romance writers are such magicians. To be able to convey this intense and intensely personal magic in a way that makes the reader care and fall under the spell is both a gift and a skill that really does deserve more respect than it receives.

    But then, maybe those who disparage the form have not ever been moved this way? In which case, perhaps they are more to be pitied than censured? ;>

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  4. "What interests me about your quotes is that they give the lie to the cliche that modern people are more in touch with our feelings. [...] Were people in the past actually more honest about their feelings; more in touch with the intensity of their feelings?"

    Tumperkin, I think it might depend on (a) which type of emotions/feelings were under discussion, because some might be more acceptable to discuss than others, (b) the historical era, society, social class etc of the person involved, and (c) the context in which the emotions were being revealed (e.g. whether they're being written in a private diary, or spoken to a large audience, or whispered to a close friend).

    Harry Smith and others writing in his time might have been influenced by Romanticism, for example.

    Janet, I hope you're enjoying your holiday.

    "Please note, I am not trying to evangelise here, just making an observation that seems apposite."

    Gin Fancier, I think you're right about this. Admittedly I'm a medievalist, so quite used to the courtly love tradition, but I think it's not uncommon to find human beloveds described in terms of the divine, and the Divinity described in terms of secular love and I think it must be at least in part because, as you say, both sets of lovers feel that "love is transformative."

    "maybe those who disparage the form have not ever been moved this way?"

    Or maybe they have, and then fell out of love and are disillusioned with it. I recently read an article about romantic comedies which rather gave me that impression. The author, David Cox mentions some of what's known about the science of love.

    For some people, including doubtless many romcom addicts, the pursuit of what's now called "limerence" by some researchers becomes an overriding goal. Failure to encounter this experience can blight the lives of those who've come to believe that nothing else really counts. Yet even those who succeed in falling in love are unlikely to find that this solves all their problems.

    Apparently, once the romance chemicals have done their little dance for a bit, the hypothalamus spoils the party by releasing a hormone called oxytocin, which puts something of a damper on things. "True love" doesn't last. Studies conducted by psychologist Dorothy Tennov found that three years' blissful limerence is pretty much the best we can hope for. Your mum would have told you as much. Nonetheless, Aniston's characters' real-life counterparts remain convinced that for some reason they're exceptions to this rule.

    The discovery that this isn't so provokes intense bitterness. If romantic love is all that matters, its loss must be a catastrophe.


    The thing is, though, that he's missing out some of the findings which suggest that some couples really do stay "in love" with each other for the long term. I mentioned that briefly in a post I wrote a while ago.

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  5. I'm dashing off with my son to school--but needed to say that Mr. Cox may talk about science, but anyone who says that oxytocin "puts a damper on things" has given that science a very odd, rather cynical spin. I'm also surprised by his equation of limerance and "true love," which doesn't seem to me inevitable--but as I say, I'll need to think this through and write more in a bit!

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  6. Stepping in here as the cause of all Laura's doubts. ;-)

    The truth about love is that there is no truth about love, at least not one truth. There are many truths. I think pairing off 1 & 2 could become 3 under the right circumstances and I think that 3 doesn't always feel like true love even when it is because a person can't be in the throes of ecstasy all the time or you'd drop dead of a coronary heart attack.

    What I'd like to articulate here is this: the perfect love is not perfect in and of itself . . . that is being selfless and passionate all the time . . . but rather that the perfect love is the love of the imperfect and sometimes that just means not doing things. For example, not clocking your beloved in the mouth when they are being a douchenozzle. I think at it's root, love in the long term is about forgiveness both of self and other for not being perfect, even in our love, which somehow ends up making love perfect.

    David Cox has clearly never read anything by Ocatavio Paz.

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  7. I'm not sure why my post isn't taking... I've tried to post a few times.

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  8. Trying again:

    Does everyone find falling in love frightening? I have the impression that a lot of romance heroes do, because they fear commitment, but perhaps this may be because many of them fall in love deeply, all at once, and fear that once in it's too late to get out, because "Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds" (Shakespeare, Sonnet 116). Friends-to-lovers storylines, however, would tend to suggest the possibility that romantic love can develop gradually, between people who do know each other well, and so their love does change, from the love of friends to romantic love.

    My husband and I had a friends-to-lovers relationship, and the evolution into a romantic relationship was still scary, partly because he meant so much to me as a friend. We both feared that if the romantic relationship did not work out, we might lose our friendship, which meant a lot to both of us. Thankfully, that did not happen -- we have been together for seventeen years and he is still my best friend.

    Where I am coming from is that for me, romantic love always involves a big risk of some kind. To open our hearts so completely to someone else, no matter how well we know that person, means putting our most vulnerable selves on the line. Maybe it is just that I have a low risk threshold (I have a very hard time relating to thrill-seekers), so for me, trusting someone else to take good care of my heart once I give it to him requires a real leap of faith.

    That is probably also why I'm often drawn to books that approximate that falling sensation of love, the stomach butterflies that come along with the emotion. As I said on RRR, I think there's a reason it is called falling in love.

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  9. "I'll need to think this through and write more in a bit!"

    Oh, please do, Eric.

    Stepping in here as the cause of all Laura's doubts. ;-)

    Thanks, Angela!

    "I think at it's root, love in the long term is about forgiveness both of self and other for not being perfect, even in our love, which somehow ends up making love perfect."

    This reminds me of Heyer's Frederica:

    '[...] I made my mind up years and years ago that I wouldn't marry anyone unless I was truly in love with him. Alverstoke, I don't think I can be [...] It has always seemed to me that if one falls in love with any gentleman one becomes instantly blind to all his faults. But I am not blind to your faults, and I do not think that everything you do or say is right! Only - Is it being - not very comfortable - and cross - and not quite happy when you aren't there?'

    'That, my darling,' said his lordship, taking her ruthlessly into his arms, 'is
    exactly what it is!' (329)

    Janine, I suppose I tend to think that true friendship "means putting our most vulnerable selves on the line" as much, if not more, to someone else, than romantic love does.

    Heyer, Georgette. Frederica. 1965. London: Pan, 1968.

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  10. Janine, I suppose I tend to think that true friendship "means putting our most vulnerable selves on the line" as much, if not more, to someone else, than romantic love does.

    Yes, but friendship isn't exclusive. And it doesn't involve setting up a house together, possibly merging finances, having sex, starting a family together -- all things that make romantic love a riskier proposition IMO. You have the vulnerability of friendship combined with all these other issues, which are also on the line and which can affect trust.

    Also I tend to agree with someone (I think it may have been the author Robert Parker) I once read who said that romantic love always has at least a small degree of obsession in it -- that's what differentiates it from platonic love and keeps people interested in one person to the exclusion of others for years.

    And I think most people, if you ask them about their past relationships, will own up to having been hurt more deeply in their previous romantic relationships that have ended than in their platonic friendships.

    So all of that, IMO makes romantic love more fraught with risk than platonic love, whether or not that romantic love begins in friendship.

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  11. "Yes, but friendship isn't exclusive. And it doesn't involve setting up a house together, possibly merging finances, having sex, starting a family together -- all things that make romantic love a riskier proposition IMO."

    I think there are lots of different ways in which different people conduct their close friendships and romantic relationships. For example, being mutual best friends could be seen as exclusive, and some people have best friends with whom they may live and/or go into business, and some people have polyamorous sexual relationships, which, obviously, involve more than one person and may or may not involve them all living in the same house.

    "I tend to agree with someone [...] I once read who said that romantic love always has at least a small degree of obsession in it"

    I suppose it depends what you mean by "obsession" but I don't think I agree with this, particularly not in long-term romantic relationships. Which isn't to say that they're devoid of passion/attraction, but if you see someone every day and know that they love you and are committed to you, it's going to tend to create different feelings from if you spend much of your time waiting desperately for a glimpse of them and worrying that your love is unrequited.

    I think most people, if you ask them about their past relationships, will own up to having been hurt more deeply in their previous romantic relationships that have ended than in their platonic friendships.

    Again, I think it probably varies depending on the length and depth of the romantic relationship, and the length and depth of the platonic friendship. I'd think that a betrayal by a long-term friend who's known all your secrets since your childhood would be a lot more painful than being dumped by someone you've only dated a few times.

    And admittedly I'm turning to fiction/anecdote for examples rather than to my own experience, but I'm sure I've read novels or letters to problem pages in which the heroine/author is a lot more upset at losing her best friend (who ran off with her spouse/boyfriend) than she is at losing the spouse/boyfriend with whom she wasn't getting on very well.

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