Falling in love

Is literature to blame?

"But when I met you, curtains parted, Suns were announced and weeks went by /All made of Saturdays."

Norman McCaig, Something Still

If somebody told me that in ‘real’ life (which BTW they haven't so far), I wouldn't believe them anyway. Sounds too lyrical to be true, and living can turn one into a cynic - one only has to watch the news, that will do it. The thing is ‘Real’ people don't talk like that - unless they have an agenda, one that most likely leaves a mark on one. But poets, like Norman McCaig, have a license to heal - and steal and borrow one's emotions without our noticing.

Why is that? Maybe because poets, and most writers for that matter, seem to have the answer to an impossible question:

"What is love?"

A question so impossible in fact, that on Valentine's day, Love itself goes offline. Quite understandable, as everyone else is speaking in its name. Were she to listen, Love of course would laugh. Because she knows, better than anyone, that if you can describe it with words, it isn't love.

But that little detail doesn't seem to have stopped writers from trying, all the way from antiquity to the present. Plato did it, in his Symposium, C.S. Lewis did it in his Four Loves, Alexander McCall Smith does it in every book, (The Perfect Passion Company just arrived, Yeay!!!) And so do countless others. In fact, almost every book is about love - or the lack of it - to the point that one has a hard time avoiding the subject altogether (unless you only focus on technical manuals!)

This then begs the question: If every writer has their own take on love, and they skillfully imprint this on their readers’ memories, can it be that throughout the ages, our understanding of love is distorted, having become an acquired taste? Meaning, so much has been said about it, that we compare what we feel to all the literary associations we have amassed generation after generation, mistaking feelings for what they are not? It is so easy to fall in love with the idea of love - as presented by art, literature and films - so much so that genuine sentiment can appear unglamorous in comparison and needs to glossed over with imaginary hues in order to stand up to the fictional. After all, a writer is in control of their story, unlike what happens in ‘real’ life, so anything they say ought to be taken with a pinch of salt. Not to mention many authors have a bleak track record in matters of the heart, very often too, their lives along the way are a case of ‘do as I say, not as I do’. Mentioning no names here, but the examples are numerous.

Is then literature good for you? Or does it set impossible, outlandish, or even bizarre models of behaviour? And why take advice from people who didn't exactly follow their own advice - as writing tends to be - or, on other occasions, overdramatize everything and make a Rollercoaster of feelings seem alluring? (Which it can, for a while, but this proves so very exhausting in the long run.)

An agony aunt would probably say there are as many loves as there are people, and putting everything into tidy little pigeonholes doesn't work. She would urge that when love comes calling, it's best not to compare. Love - herself - would confirm, if asked, that ‘love’ is what you make of it. And that if you recognize yourself in someone else, if your eyes light up in recognition of that kinship whenever they walk into the room, if they make you feel all warm and tingly inside… (well, the list is endless), then no words are necessary.

Having said that, a few of mine follow below. Not being an agony aunt, I am however currently agonizing over the snail’s pace my novel writing has to show for itself, so every little verse of procrastination helps!

❤️ON Valentine's Day❤️

To talk about Love... Oh, that is a bore!

Have you not heard it all before?

And what about Patience? Ditto, a pain.

Fishing for goldstars is all in vain.

The speech about Kindness... Well, that is a joke!

When you were hurting, none of them spoke.

It is only of Tenderness you ought to speak.

While you were sleeping, she kissed your cheek.

❤️

Happy Valentine's!

And as always, thank you for reading!