Love
- Posted by Essays Blog in Essays Blog |
- January 17th, 2009 |
- Comments
Love songs are everywhere. But does anyone have a definition of love, which &ndash people claim &ndash makes the class go around? Careful, it’s easy to tell when you’re in love with individual. [The heart pounds and you act like an idiot.] But it’s much harder to have if you actually love individual.
Enter the mind of Harry Jenkins, as he is about to make love to Natasha,
And so he laughed at himself as he sank beneath the covers. No lucid man would question much free and epicurean pleasure, as if it could only be valued finished cerebration. Only an idiot or a fool would attempt to analyze love and passion.
Nonetheless, like the fool, I attempt a definition. Perhaps it is the lawyer in me. On the case of love, Carl Jung, the Swiss psychiatrist, is a sobering read. All of us, purportedly, carry inside us, an animus [if you're female] and an anima [if you're male], which is the idealized image of the person you love. And so, when you are in love you are projecting this idealized image on a real, live person who might be naturally quite entitled to be different.
After the honeymoon, those annoying little cracks in the image appear, which could certainly explain the high divorce rate. When you find the real person doesn’t exactly match your stratified ideal, what do you do?
All of these thoughts led me to explore people’s ideas of all kinds of love, not just the romantic difference, in Final Paradox, the 2nd in The Osgoode Trilogy.
Harry Jenkins is the lawyer protagonist end-to-end the trilogy, which contain account lines of murder and fraud. He is in the bondage of the beautiful Natasha. His aging father, who abandoned him as a child, has just asked his forgiveness. Harry can’t appear to find that in his heart. Natasha asks him&ndash
What do you believe love is?
He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s about deficient individual as part of your life. Deficient them always with you.” He looked into her eyes. “Why? What do you believe?”
“I believe it’s about getting outside yourself and perception another person’s life from their point of analyze. At least that’s a start,” Natasha replied.
Harry heard his father’s words. It’s all about you, is it? Would he always be the kid, he wondered?
Another character musing about love is Norma Dinnick &ndash an elderly client of Harry’s who trips back and forth between lucidity and madness. She recollects her resent of feelings for different men.
Going back to her hotel, Norma proved to believe. She knew about affection and caring from Arthur, her husband, who kept her safe from the emptiness. But she did not believe this business of love, which David talked about. She did know that much emotions gave her a meaning of power. The curve lust she experienced in the presence of George made her feel anemic and vulnerable.
Norma simply doesn’t believe about love and neither does Bronwyn &ndash another character. An embittered feeling, she has married a gay man and on her honeymoon - She wandered the narrow beach of smooth and endocarp where the boats ferried back and forth to the grottos. No Peter. But so she saw him at a distance on the beach walking easy with a younger man she did not know. Where had they come from? Right from the start, she had known. Of course, the bargain was mute, but advantageously appreciated. For money and assets, Bronwyn had sacrificed any chance for love.
But in the end, Harry does begin to get it. In bed with the lovely Natasha, he was
…transported outside his own body, he was overcome with the desire to know the dreams, fantasies and mysteries she held inside. He would enter her class with love and apprehension and never leave. The awe he felt in her closeness made his breathing adagio and deepen in rhythm with hers. He watched his hand reach out of the shadows to creaseless the artifact. She was at last in his bed and, fearing a mirage, he dared not wake her. In the past fortnight, his class had been shaken. His mind had become a jumble of colliding, conflicting events and consequences. Now he felt her power to draw his life unitedly. A allay peace gently accomplished over him like a satiny blade of meaning.
(Reprinted from Final Paradox by Mary E. Martin with permission).