A week ago I told Tom if we didn't know each other long/well enough when we got married, we do now. I've been musing about the process of falling in love, and then moving beyond into the love that will take us through our life together.
Here are two references, popular or not, that I thought capture the experience of dabbling in love.
I resolved to call her up
A thousand times a day
"Every Little Thing She Does is Magic" -The Police
From Anna Karenina, Part IV, Chapter 5
There are various couple's subplots running alongside Anna and Vronskys' train-wreck of a relationship. One is between Sergey Ivanovitch and Varenka, the brother of Levin and Kitty's friend, respectively. Sergei was an intellectual and Varenka was "like a fine flower, already past its bloom and without fragrance, though the petals were still unwithered." There is a moment they have noticed each other, admire each other, and are moving together. Sergey thinks, "I ought to think it over and make up my mind, and not give way like a boy to the impulse of a moment."
Seeing Sergey Ivanovitch approaching, [Varenka] did not get up and did not change her position, but everything told him that she felt his presence and was glad of it....
Varenka saw that he wanted to speak; she guessed of what, and felt faint with joy and panic. They had walked so far away that no one could hear them now, but still he did not begin to speak. It would have been better for Varenka to be silent. After a silence it would have been easier for them to say what they wanted to say than after talking about mushrooms. But against her own will, as it were accidentally, Varenka [spoke]....
Now or never it must be said—that Sergey Ivanovitch felt too. Everything in the expression, the flushed cheeks and the downcast eyes of Varenka betrayed a painful suspense. Sergey Ivanovitch saw it and felt sorry for her. He felt even that to say nothing now would be a slight to her. Rapidly in his own mind he ran over all the arguments in support of his decision. He even said over to himself the words in which he meant to put his offer, but instead of those words, some utterly unexpected reflection that occurred to him made him ask:
"What is the difference between the ‘birch’ mushroom and the ‘white’ mushroom?"
And just like that - it's over. Given their characters, their chance has past.
Sting and Lev Tolstoy capture the excitement of wondering who will be the one, how will we get it figured out? That lovely little season, not itself without angst, has passed for us. I remember watching Jane Austen's BBC Pride & Prejudice sometime after my wedding and thinking something had changed. (I also quickly came to understand what "marriage takes work" meant.)
My MSF colleague and friend, AK, was navigating a long-distance relationship from Kyrgyzstan to Burkina Faso. They'd worked together a few weeks in Geneva, hit it off, enjoyed a romantic fortnight at his home in Belgium over Christmas holidays, and were left deciding how many terrible Skype connections over a six-hour time difference the relationship was worth. She told me, "You're lucky because even though you don't get to see Tom for six months, at least you know where you stand. You know what the commitment means."
By the grace of God, amen, AK.
Here are two references, popular or not, that I thought capture the experience of dabbling in love.
I resolved to call her up
A thousand times a day
"Every Little Thing She Does is Magic" -The Police
From Anna Karenina, Part IV, Chapter 5
There are various couple's subplots running alongside Anna and Vronskys' train-wreck of a relationship. One is between Sergey Ivanovitch and Varenka, the brother of Levin and Kitty's friend, respectively. Sergei was an intellectual and Varenka was "like a fine flower, already past its bloom and without fragrance, though the petals were still unwithered." There is a moment they have noticed each other, admire each other, and are moving together. Sergey thinks, "I ought to think it over and make up my mind, and not give way like a boy to the impulse of a moment."
Varenka saw that he wanted to speak; she guessed of what, and felt faint with joy and panic. They had walked so far away that no one could hear them now, but still he did not begin to speak. It would have been better for Varenka to be silent. After a silence it would have been easier for them to say what they wanted to say than after talking about mushrooms. But against her own will, as it were accidentally, Varenka [spoke]....
Now or never it must be said—that Sergey Ivanovitch felt too. Everything in the expression, the flushed cheeks and the downcast eyes of Varenka betrayed a painful suspense. Sergey Ivanovitch saw it and felt sorry for her. He felt even that to say nothing now would be a slight to her. Rapidly in his own mind he ran over all the arguments in support of his decision. He even said over to himself the words in which he meant to put his offer, but instead of those words, some utterly unexpected reflection that occurred to him made him ask:
"What is the difference between the ‘birch’ mushroom and the ‘white’ mushroom?"
And just like that - it's over. Given their characters, their chance has past.
Sting and Lev Tolstoy capture the excitement of wondering who will be the one, how will we get it figured out? That lovely little season, not itself without angst, has passed for us. I remember watching Jane Austen's BBC Pride & Prejudice sometime after my wedding and thinking something had changed. (I also quickly came to understand what "marriage takes work" meant.)
My MSF colleague and friend, AK, was navigating a long-distance relationship from Kyrgyzstan to Burkina Faso. They'd worked together a few weeks in Geneva, hit it off, enjoyed a romantic fortnight at his home in Belgium over Christmas holidays, and were left deciding how many terrible Skype connections over a six-hour time difference the relationship was worth. She told me, "You're lucky because even though you don't get to see Tom for six months, at least you know where you stand. You know what the commitment means."
By the grace of God, amen, AK.
Celebrating #2 at Cafe Pasqual's this weekend
2 comments:
What a lovely post, dear Hannah! Happy Anniversary!
This was beautiful, Hannah!
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