Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.
-- Dylan Thomas
Love is a precious thing and perhaps the most written about aspect
of the human carnival ever. I mean, who hasn't written something
about love? But, if Dylan Thomas is right, and death shall have
no dominion over love, then I would have to vote for a particularly
tragic kind of love as my favorite literary page-turner. Please
enjoy your LOVE STORYs and your BRIDGET JONES'S DIARYs, but in my
opinion, if you're trying to understand the limitless complications
of love as you have never understood them before, you must turn
to the work of Edith Wharton for some answers.
In ETHAN FROME, a man gives his heart to a shy yet resourceful
young woman, and the most fun thing they have ever done together,
the one moment of freedom they both enjoy, brings tragic consequences.
But the love they share is perhaps the most poignant I have ever
read in my whole life --- it is true and deep and springs from needy
and yearning hearts. But it doesn't end well.
THE HOUSE OF MIRTH centers on a young woman who suffers the consequences
of having a true love and losing it, all because her love does not
have the right social striving and upbringing. Again --- the love
is pure and driven by deep desires but it is kept on the back burner
so that the social-climbing protagonist can find her way in the
world she thinks she wants to be a part of. Unfortunately, it doesn't
end well for her or the young man.
In THE AGE OF INNOCENCE, a well-turned society boy grows up to
marry the wrong girl (but is she really the wrong girl?) and to
love from afar the difficult and provocative woman who is his truest
love. Things get close to working out, then consequences of society
and social standing get in the way and...viola! Things don't end
so well for anybody.
Okay, I know what you're thinking. Where's the romance? The wild
passion? The kisses that go on for pages and make you melt as you
read each steamy word? That, my friends, is not what real passion
is all about. Sure, the book may look nice with Fabio flexing his
every muscle on the colorful cover, but what is missing? It's the
mind. Love happens in your mind and lives and dies depending on
how you think about it. That's the absolute truth, and Edith Wharton
knew it.
Your heart will tell you who you really love, and your mind will
either let you get away with it or get away from it. Wharton's characters,
controlled by years of rigid society constrictions, have hearts
that work; and that is always what gets them into trouble --- their
heads tell them to follow one path and their hearts tell them to
follow another. This complexity is utterly and completely a human
foible --- no other animal bucks its "natural instincts" when it
comes to matters of love and sex. But the human...well, we think
we're so smart, don't we? And, usually, we end up doing the wrong
thing.
Wharton, with her graceful sentences and her longing pauses between
characters and her wistful discussions about the way people lived
and acted in the world she knew and around which her own personal
life orbited, created the most beautiful, tragic ballads. On Valentine's
Day, when everyone else is looking for the quick bestseller fix
of perfect love perfectly committed by perfect bodies, open up a
classic volume of Wharton and discover the pain and depth that only
real love can bring. It's a might more satisfying to swim gently
in the sea of her discontents than to splash easily and briskly
in shallow waters.
--- Jana Siciliano
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