On Love, Alain de Botton's debut novel, explores the genesis, evolution and eventual destruction of a single relationship. Along the way we are privy to our protagonist's innermost longings, self-hating tendencies, and endless second-guessing; these very human frailties make the relationship experience rocky, to say the least. But I found the novel to be ultimately very relateable, and unsparingly honest in reflecting the more unsavory characteristics that intimacy with another person can inspire in us all.
One question a reader may well ask herself, in light of all the difficulties involved, is why any of us even bother with long-term monogamy in the first place. I intend to discuss the benefits of being known and understood on a deeper level than even the closest friendship, and show how these outweigh all the potential hazards of love. De Botton is very convincing as he details the agonies and uncertainties of his protagonist. However, there is one particularly compelling reason to endure the unpleasant times in a relationship, and De Botton describes this in his chapter "I" Confirmation (pages 99-109): "We do not really exist until there is someone there to see us existing...In essence, we are not wholly alive until we are loved."
Our protagonist meets Chloe on an airplane, strikes up a conversation, and proceeds to discover the mutual interests and common ways of thinking that exist between them. He calls her up not long after, and after navigating the all obstacles of courtship, they find themselves in a committed relationship. Their lives interweave, and this leads naturally to a deepening knowledge of the other person's characteristics: "Chloe noticed that I was a hypochondriac, that I was shy and hated speaking on the phone...[that I] used politeness as an aggressive defense and preferred to say "maybe" rather than 'yes' or 'no.'" It takes longer for the protagonist to learn Chloe's inner ways, but eventually he does, and finds that "With such characteristics, Chloe slowly assumed a complex coherence in my mind, someone with consistency and a degree of predictability."
So we establish an identity for the other person, and they in turn do the same for us. But why is this valuable? "Humans need one another in order to define themselves and achieve self-consciousness," says De Botton. "We cannot come to a proper sense of ourselves if there aren't others around to show us what we're like." (100) Chloe and the protagonist mirror their behaviors and inclinations to each other, in order to gain a deeper understanding of themselves - something impossible to attain with even the most determined solitary introspection. When the protagonist is melancholy on a Sunday evening and Chloe observes he's wearing his "lost-orphan-boy" look again, he feels a rush of love and gratitude: "A gratefulness for reminding the orphan he is an orphan, and hence returning him home."
We all instinctively understand this idea, that the presence of those around us gives our lives context and meaning. The deeper our connection with the people around us, the truer this rings. We feel a deep devastation, therefore, when these connections are severed; in the case of our protagonist, he is even driven to a suicide attempt (albeit one that ends only in a Vitamin C overdose). But that is an extreme case. For an emotionally balanced person who has a strong sense of who they are outside of a relationship, that shared identity with another person can uniquely enrich their lives and provide a sense of safety and of true belonging.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
On Love, Book Report/Essay
On Love, Alain de Botton's debut novel, explores the genesis, evolution and eventual destruction of a single relationship. Along the way we are privy to our protagonist's innermost longings, self-hating tendencies, and endless second-guessing; these very human frailties make the relationship experience rocky, to say the least. But I found the novel to be ultimately very relateable, and unsparingly honest in reflecting the more unsavory characteristics that intimacy with another person can inspire in us all.
One question a reader may well ask herself, in light of all the difficulties involved, is why any of us even bother with long-term monogamy in the first place. De Botton is very convincing as he details the agonies and uncertainties of his protagonist. However, there is one particularly compelling reason to endure the unpleasant times in a relationship, and De Botton describes this in his chapter "I" Confirmation: [INSERT QUOTE FROM PAGE 99-100] I intend to discuss the benefits of being known and understood on a deeper level than even the closest friendship, and show how these outweigh all the potential hazards of love.
Our protagonist meets Chloe on an airplane, strikes up a conversation, and proceeds to discover the mutual interests and common ways of thinking that exist between them. He calls her up not long after, and after navigating the all obstacles of courtship, they find themselves in a committed relationship. Their lives interweave, and this leads naturally to a deepening knowledge of the other person's characteristics: [INSTERT QUOTE FROM PAGE 101] It takes longer for the protagonist to learn Chloe's inner ways, but eventually he does, and finds that "With such characteristics, Chloe slowly assumed a complex coherence in my mind, someone with consistency and a degree of predictability." (102)
So we establish an identity for the other person, and they in turn do the same for us. But why is this valuable? "Humans need one another in order to define themselves and achieve self-consciousness," says De Botton. [QUOTE FROM PAGE 100] Chloe and the protagonist mirror their behaviors and inclinations to each other, in order to gain a deeper understanding of themselves - something impossible to attain with even the most determined solitary introspection. When the protagonist is melancholy on a Sunday evening and Chloe observes he's wearing his "lost-orphan-boy" look again, he feels a rush of love and gratitude: "A gratefulness for reminding the orphan he is an orphan, and hence returning him home." (99)
We all instinctively understand this idea, that the presence of those around us gives our lives context and meaning. The deeper our connection with the people around us, the truer this rings. We feel a deep devastation, therefore, when these connections are severed; in the case of our protagonist, he is even driven to a suicide attempt (that ends in nothing worse than a Vitamin C overdose). But that is an extreme case. For an emotionally balanced person who has a strong sense of who they are outside of a relationship, that shared identity with another person can uniquely enrich their lives and provide a sense of safety and of true belonging.
One question a reader may well ask herself, in light of all the difficulties involved, is why any of us even bother with long-term monogamy in the first place. De Botton is very convincing as he details the agonies and uncertainties of his protagonist. However, there is one particularly compelling reason to endure the unpleasant times in a relationship, and De Botton describes this in his chapter "I" Confirmation: [INSERT QUOTE FROM PAGE 99-100] I intend to discuss the benefits of being known and understood on a deeper level than even the closest friendship, and show how these outweigh all the potential hazards of love.
Our protagonist meets Chloe on an airplane, strikes up a conversation, and proceeds to discover the mutual interests and common ways of thinking that exist between them. He calls her up not long after, and after navigating the all obstacles of courtship, they find themselves in a committed relationship. Their lives interweave, and this leads naturally to a deepening knowledge of the other person's characteristics: [INSTERT QUOTE FROM PAGE 101] It takes longer for the protagonist to learn Chloe's inner ways, but eventually he does, and finds that "With such characteristics, Chloe slowly assumed a complex coherence in my mind, someone with consistency and a degree of predictability." (102)
So we establish an identity for the other person, and they in turn do the same for us. But why is this valuable? "Humans need one another in order to define themselves and achieve self-consciousness," says De Botton. [QUOTE FROM PAGE 100] Chloe and the protagonist mirror their behaviors and inclinations to each other, in order to gain a deeper understanding of themselves - something impossible to attain with even the most determined solitary introspection. When the protagonist is melancholy on a Sunday evening and Chloe observes he's wearing his "lost-orphan-boy" look again, he feels a rush of love and gratitude: "A gratefulness for reminding the orphan he is an orphan, and hence returning him home." (99)
We all instinctively understand this idea, that the presence of those around us gives our lives context and meaning. The deeper our connection with the people around us, the truer this rings. We feel a deep devastation, therefore, when these connections are severed; in the case of our protagonist, he is even driven to a suicide attempt (that ends in nothing worse than a Vitamin C overdose). But that is an extreme case. For an emotionally balanced person who has a strong sense of who they are outside of a relationship, that shared identity with another person can uniquely enrich their lives and provide a sense of safety and of true belonging.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Conditions of Love, Book Report/Essay
Conditions of Love, a book by John Armstrong, tackles all sorts of thorny interpersonal issues. With a deft hand the author transforms universally-felt sentiments we often can't explain with words into straightforward, sensible language; his skill is such that even the most complex ideas are rendered plain for us to relate to and enjoy. He also compares well-known philosophers' notions about life and love, and cites portrayals of romance from classic literature, all in an effort to paint a thoughtful picture of what love is and what exactly it means to us humans.
Among the many "aha" moments within the book, I found his two chapters about imagination and love to be the most revelatory. The first explores how imagination can play both a frivolous and eventually destructive role in a relationship; the second, how an imaginative mindset can lead us to see the positives in a person or situation that we couldn't otherwise. I aim to summarize the thrust of both chapters, and to show how that one power - imagination - can be used either for good or for evil within the context of love and relationships.
In the initial chapter, Imagination, we are given a visual metaphor: a twig left in a salt mine, now encrusted and glimmering with salt crystals. This roughly equates to the effect imagination may have on the object of our affection: "The original twig is no longer recognizable." (72) Or, as Armstrong puts it at the end of the chapter: "Though the process of crystallization, another person is perceived as perfectly fitting the template of our needs." (75) We imagine them to be bursting with wonderful qualities at the slightest provocation, whether or not this is really the case. This seems potentially fatal in a love affair, as the admired one's shortcomings will prove a rude awakening the instant they inevitably rear their head.
Imagination can also contribute to what Armstrong terms "falling in hate," (75) when the tiniest, most inadvertent action can be built up into a whirlwind of indifference and neglect by the offended party. "When we see the [toothpaste] cap off again we see - by the power of imagination - a symbol of a way of life. It is a general tendency exemplified in a single instance." Truly, this is often a force of destruction in relationships. Saying "you always do this" or "you never do that" - expanding and exaggerating one small crime into a litany of carelessness and failures - makes one party feel blindsided and unjustly accused. The other party also suffers, for they are undermining a relationship on unreasonable grounds.
But what of the benefits of imagination? In Armstrong's second chapter on the subject, Imagination (Again), he casts it as a means of reaching a greater understanding of the other person. Here, "Imagination can be allied to acuteness of perception, rather than to distortion." (96) It's a talent that allows us to perceive good qualities in another which most people might miss; that is, of course, very different from inventing them altogether. A person whose appearance or attributes at first seem only average "can flower under the imaginative attention of a lover's eye."
This can also deepen love in another way. Armstrong draws a parallel between appreciating your lover and appreciating a painting: "Our favorite works of art are often those whose less obvious charms yield themselves to the particular tendencies of our imagination." (97) In other words, for what we alone appreciate we also feel a certain possessiveness and devotion. It means more to us, and belongs to us, because we perceive the "secret" charm therein. Our individual imagination has therefore served us well in the pursuit of love and true understanding.
Armstrong's two-pronged look at the role of imagination in love exemplifies his approach to his subject throughout the book. He takes into account various perspectives in order to reach balanced, rational conclusions. However deeply we claim to know ourselves, we are governed by motives that are at times mysterious even to us; Armstrong's methodical, intuitive writing style helps bring these mysteries into the light, teaches us wisdom, and allows us to exercise more control over our own happiness.
Among the many "aha" moments within the book, I found his two chapters about imagination and love to be the most revelatory. The first explores how imagination can play both a frivolous and eventually destructive role in a relationship; the second, how an imaginative mindset can lead us to see the positives in a person or situation that we couldn't otherwise. I aim to summarize the thrust of both chapters, and to show how that one power - imagination - can be used either for good or for evil within the context of love and relationships.
In the initial chapter, Imagination, we are given a visual metaphor: a twig left in a salt mine, now encrusted and glimmering with salt crystals. This roughly equates to the effect imagination may have on the object of our affection: "The original twig is no longer recognizable." (72) Or, as Armstrong puts it at the end of the chapter: "Though the process of crystallization, another person is perceived as perfectly fitting the template of our needs." (75) We imagine them to be bursting with wonderful qualities at the slightest provocation, whether or not this is really the case. This seems potentially fatal in a love affair, as the admired one's shortcomings will prove a rude awakening the instant they inevitably rear their head.
Imagination can also contribute to what Armstrong terms "falling in hate," (75) when the tiniest, most inadvertent action can be built up into a whirlwind of indifference and neglect by the offended party. "When we see the [toothpaste] cap off again we see - by the power of imagination - a symbol of a way of life. It is a general tendency exemplified in a single instance." Truly, this is often a force of destruction in relationships. Saying "you always do this" or "you never do that" - expanding and exaggerating one small crime into a litany of carelessness and failures - makes one party feel blindsided and unjustly accused. The other party also suffers, for they are undermining a relationship on unreasonable grounds.
But what of the benefits of imagination? In Armstrong's second chapter on the subject, Imagination (Again), he casts it as a means of reaching a greater understanding of the other person. Here, "Imagination can be allied to acuteness of perception, rather than to distortion." (96) It's a talent that allows us to perceive good qualities in another which most people might miss; that is, of course, very different from inventing them altogether. A person whose appearance or attributes at first seem only average "can flower under the imaginative attention of a lover's eye."
This can also deepen love in another way. Armstrong draws a parallel between appreciating your lover and appreciating a painting: "Our favorite works of art are often those whose less obvious charms yield themselves to the particular tendencies of our imagination." (97) In other words, for what we alone appreciate we also feel a certain possessiveness and devotion. It means more to us, and belongs to us, because we perceive the "secret" charm therein. Our individual imagination has therefore served us well in the pursuit of love and true understanding.
Armstrong's two-pronged look at the role of imagination in love exemplifies his approach to his subject throughout the book. He takes into account various perspectives in order to reach balanced, rational conclusions. However deeply we claim to know ourselves, we are governed by motives that are at times mysterious even to us; Armstrong's methodical, intuitive writing style helps bring these mysteries into the light, teaches us wisdom, and allows us to exercise more control over our own happiness.
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