They lay naked, sprawled across filthy sheets, tangled up in love. Eva often watched him while he slept beside her, matching her breath to his. She was happiest then; collecting moments in her glass jar filled with fairy tales and dried rose petals. Seven gentle caresses, five soft whispers, three stolen kisses, dozen blushing glances. She liked to spend all her days in the summertime, walking barefoot on the sun-soaked grass. She ran her fingers, one by one, against the gain of his stubbled cheek, careful not to wake him. The day had passed slowly like an endless Sunday, and she felt the soothing ache of tired bones at rest. Their clothes scattered the floor like weightless souls struggling to grasp fingertips. Cuff links and earrings ruffled shirt and veil, black and white. She glided her hand through the room’s thick air as if she were resting in the passenger seat of a car riding her palm out the window on a wave of rushing air. The new weight of the ring felt heavy to her delicate hand. She fondled the golden band softly, enjoying the feeling of her freshly bonded finger. Elegantly sliding the ring off her body, she whispered the inscription silently to herself To My Eternal Love. Eva was preparing herself for eternity.
For Socrates romantic love is the original insanity of human kind; the divine madness of desire. Love serves as the ultimate tool of desire, constantly driving us to feed its insatiable late night cravings. The very idea of desire implies a vacancy within our deficient lives, a wishing and wanting of emotional fulfillment. Then love can painted as the absolute in self actualization, it is then love that completes as whole creatures. This of course leads us to another example of Socrates’ infamous paradox. If who we love is truly intertwined within our soul and melts into our total self, yet is still personified in another within the heart of another, how can love be a virtue we bot lack and possess? This lyrical riddle is unraveled by explaining love as the boiling point, in which our ideal reality and our actual reality dissolve into one another. We exist in space and time as both actual and potential beings that simultaneously shuffle through past memories, present wants, and future hopes like the tune of a familiar song you can always remember and anticipate. They all function as dynamic musical notes in a single melody, penetrating all our actions. When love is lacking in our present or our actual self, it becomes an element of our idealized future that we strive to attain. When love is finally realized (ideally of course,) then we have consolidated our ideal (what we can be) and actual selves (what we are.) Our innate desire for love directs us towards the ideal of a self-actualized existence, our potential perfection personified, our silent senses sedated. Love connects our actual reality with the ideal self that has always existed within. The comprehensive and mystical binding power of the love spell.
More recently Sartre has offered us a slightly less romantic and more Francais Noir profile of love. As the individual gaze stands as the focal point of our perception of reality, we exist as the masters of our own universe in which all things function only in relation to us. But as we feel the gaze of the other bite down upon out fragile ego the world suddenly swirls down the drain of self-consciousness, reducing our once dominant self into a mere dependant object that functions in someone else’s universe. As individual egos we are forced into a struggle between the conflicting roles of the supreme object of the self and the ordinary object of the other. We are thrown into the sadomasochistic arena of possessive love, cornered into the evolutionary dice game of possess your lover or be possessed by the other. Love is no longer the stylized vision of a unified soul, but an internal sword fight of opposing forces engaged in a futile battle of wanting to possess, while needing to be possessed. Love in the sterile operating room severed by the stare. A spiritual amputation where individual desire is constrained and obligated to battle for power. Lost in a world of stares.
Alan drove for most of their three-day journey, Eva mainly watched; neither spoke. They didn’t carry a map, their tail has already been blazed in metallic signs of red, white, and blue. She would slowly place her left hand in upon his right, weaving her fingers into his sweaty palm. Sometimes their mingling hands would sway, knocking the clutch out of gear sending the engine into an angry rev. They laughed. They followed Route 70 from its birth to its end. The road flowers of America had pulled them from the industrial gloom of Pittsburgh towards the neon garden of Las Vegas. They met in grade school and were to marry in Vegas like lovers often do. She was hip to the intricacies of time, never succumbing to the haste of youth and impatience of lust. She left town quietly, but not without the usual formalities and social obligations. "I’ll write often, call on Sundays, and visit on the holidays. She never did. They didn’t have much money or much of anything that could be measured in dollars. They hadn’t packed any belongings, it hadn’t occurred to them. They weren’t coming back, this they had always known.
The wedding was magical. He rented a tuxedo with shiny shoes and gold plated cuff links, she a white dress of lace and stain with matching veil. They found a cheap motel off the strip, on the dark side of town. Together they glowed the light of a dim candle that radiated through the bone. They roamed the sidestreets lightly in their new uniforms, conflicting with the plastic glow of the electric city. She no longer hels his arm, but slide herself into his comforting side. The pink sign blinked Chapel O’ Love and advertised package weddings at a discount, including complimentary breakfast at a nearby diner. They weren’t hungry just yet, but decided to get married there all the same. The marriage man smiled his crooked teeth and twitched inside his stained powder-blue leisure suit when she told him that would be ‘together from now till’ eternity.’ He said he’s heard it all before. They exchanged rings and shared a laugh.
The standard British and empirically based writings of David Hume brings us to a more pragmatic understanding of love and weddings. Marriage functions as a social contract, in which the delineated terms and conditions must be mutually consent upon by both parties. The fundamental purpose of the matrimony is to achieve the goal of every biological organism, the propagation of the species. As mankind has been endowed with the gift of reason, the notion of a consentual monogamous relationship susceptible to a number of implied conditions. In joining himself to a woman in marriage, a man is bound to her according to the terms established in the engagement process of the relationship. The details of marital conditions are seemingly arbitrary and will always manifest according to the couples’ individual needs; the emphasis of the contact is grounded upon the principle that both parties concur and obey their pre-established contractual obligations. In the process of child rearing the duties of the man are bound to a higher authority, the authority of nature and humanity. Men are obligated to provide for his children’s subsistence and education. When a man has preformed these essential and non-negotiable duties, he is irreproachable with any form of injustice or injury. He has served the totality of his social, instinctual, and moral obligations to the species of humanity.
Arguably the first voice of the postmodernist feminist movement, Simone de Beauvoir offers us an alternative perspective into the hegemony of masculine dominated love. Probably the most prevalent and deeply rooted presupposition of the patriarchal Western society is the myth of the dependent status of women. Dating back to the book of Genesis, in which Eve is conceived from the rib of Adam, women have merely existed in relation to man and have never been fully recognized as an autonomous gender. Masquerading behind the false banner of biological superiority, men have failed to acknowledge the strength and equality of the feminine role. The development of young girls has been plagued by the forced ingestion of the feminine ideal, consisting of the housewife’s holy trinity: home, husband, and children. Young women are reared to believe in the feminine myth of inferiority and inevitably mystify this societal construct into their unconscious and accept it as truth within their internalized belief system. Love has a smaller place in a woman’s life then has often been presumed. Most women fantasize if a mythical love that they have been swindled into believing exists through the proliferation of the patriarchal society’s dominant ideology. In reality, women are forced to settle with mediocre substitutes that arrive in partial and imperfect forms. Love is the false myth of the lust driven man who seeks only to dominate, never to respect or reciprocate.
They were husband and wife, man and woman, him and her. An authentic couple, officially recognized by the United State’s Government, the state of Nevada, and social customs through the globe. She understood formalities and their freshly documented marriage was merely another. Despite their nuptial bond, they remained distinct, anxious, and incomplete. They has always felt it simmering below like an ancient wish, a prophetic fading of time, the melting into unity, She felt it burn the brightest today of all days, her wedding day, the day of reconciliation. Her eyes shined wildly in excitement, unaffected by the lazy desert sun. They began to sweat beneath the layers of their ceremonial costumes, their skin glistening without light. They walked arm in arm, matching their steps into a single pace. They spent the rest of the afternoon in the small motel pool, she rested on the lounge chairs watching him do belly flops until the sun called it a day. They spent the night drinking- talking- laughing- making love.
The advent of the sexual position known as the missionary can be traced back to the dawn of civilization of our sexual morality. The missionary position is rooted in the Christian dogma that sex must function as a purely procreative act, whose sole purpose is the propagation of the human species. Ironically, in its attempt to reduce sex into a strictly biological activity the church has neglected a vast amount of evolutionary evidence that suggest missionary sex functions in an inherent conflict with out sexual instincts. Humans appear to be one of the few species on Earth not to partake in rear penetrating vaginal sex or doggie style as the sole means of sexual activity. This phenomenon has caused scientists and anthropologists alike to theorize on the emergence of missionary sex. Our closest ancestors of the primate family very rarely partake in missionary sex, and on the seldom occasion it occurs the primates seem agitated and uncomfortable. Evolutionary theorists speculate that missionary sex arose in an effort to increase the emotional bonds between male and female during copulation. This hypothesis implies a necessity for the strengthening of emotional ties, in which there would exist a need for the increase in the sexual bond between humans. No such evidence exists. The affects of socially implemented sexual positions that act in contrast to our instinctually preferred sexual positions has manifested itself as an internal tension between guilt and desire. Psychologists have theorized that this sexual tension is a modern physical adaptation that has emerged in an effort to further promote monogamy, stability, and eventually love. Love may then be defined as an evolutionary adaptation that has surfaced in order to guarantee the continuation of our species.
‘Okay kids, I got two eggs over with dry toast.’
‘Right here’
‘And the French toast must be for the fine lady.’
‘Thanks.’
‘You kids need some more coffee?’ she asked with the utmost sincerity. ‘Nah, we’re cool thanks.’
‘A couple of newlyweds huh?’
‘Is is that obvious?’ He asked with a teethy grin as he reached for Eva’s leg beneath the table. ‘You kids should really see the canyon. It’s just a beautiful place. It ain’t all that far from here, just grab the 93 towards Boulder City and...’
‘We’re actually on our way out there today. We just got here a couple days back from the East coast and the Grand Canyon is out final stop.’
‘It really is a breathtaking place, just magical!’
‘Yeah, we heard.’ He smiled again, tenderly squeezing the flesh above Eva’s knee. She giggled as they exchanged a knowing glance that only keepers of an intimate secret can share. ‘Just magical,’ he slowly repeated.
The Old Testament proclaims that God formed man from the dust of the Earth, filling him with the breath of life. God planted a garden eastern Eden all type of beautiful trees that blossomed food, life, and knowledge. God then layed Adam to rest in a deep slumber and took one his ribs while he slept. With that rib God took from man, he created woman and brought her unto man. God proclaimed that man shall leave his parents and merge with his wife where they will be of one flesh. They were both naked and not ashamed. The serpent of the garden asked woman ‘did God say you can eat from every tree in the garden?’ She answered ‘Yes, except for the tree of life in the center. If we eat it from it, we shall certainly die.’ The serpent said ‘You will not die, if you eat from that tree you will know good and evil and be like Gods.’ She saw that the fruit of the tree looked pleasant to the eye, and picked some fruit to eat. She ate the fruit and gave some to her husband to eat. Suddenly, both their eyes were opened and they knew that they were naked. As they began to clothe themselves before the eyes of God, he proclaimed ‘Thou hast eaten from the tree, whereof I commanded thee that thou shouldest not eat!’ And man said ‘The woman gavest to me the fruit of the tree, and I did eat.’ Unto woman God pronounced ‘I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception in bringing forth children. Thy desire shall be thy husband, and he shall rule over thee.’ And unto Adam he pronounced ‘Because thou hast harkened unto the voice of thy wife, the once fertile soil is now cursed and in sorrow you shall eat of it all the days of thy life.’ Adam called his wife’s name Eve; because she was the mother of all living. God then drove man from the Garden of Eden and created a flaming sword to forever protect the tree of life. Adam and Eve were no longer of one flesh.
Modern anthropological thought has functioned under the precept that the link between marriage and romantic love is not a cultural universal. Numerous influential Western theorists have argued that the link concept romance is merely a product of medieval Europe that has only recently spread to other cultures through the irriagation of the mass media. Modern anthropologists have observed that what appears to be romance blooming in non-Western societies is rather the emergence of repressed instincts that have been checked by societal customs. Traditionally, romantic love was perceived as a luxury for the elite classes. Many societies prohibit the individual from choosing their own mate and dictate the choice of their future spouse strictly in terms of an utilitarian economic arrangement. This practice assures that the respective families will remain within the proper kin, social, and political group; guaranteeing the progression of the family lineage. Romantic love is defined as an intense attraction and longing to be with a loved one. It has always existed cross-culturally, but has been customarily expressed in extra-martial affairs and polygamous relationships. What is new in many cultures is the idea that romantic love should be the dominant reason for marriage. The rules for traditional and arranged marriages are gradually weakening, giving way to the European practice of marriage for love.
They paid no mind to the pounding rain, sliding through the night like warm blades through soft wax. They wove their path along the brittle sandstone, following the trail markings posted Bright Angel trail and the gentle light of the complete moon that filtered through the thin slits between the clouds. They glided gracefully above the red rubble of the rocky soil, feeling the canyon rumble beneath their toes and bare skin feet. They both were naked, man and his wife and were not ashamed. Her hair began to melt and grow long under the incessant rain, sticking tightly to the smoothness of her cheeks. He could taste the salty texture of the rain, their souls began to dance to the beat of a familiar rhythm. They has reached the canyon core, the river not as deep as they had remembered. The rain played the beat even louder, driving them towards the solace of the crashing river basin. In a furious shriek of electric luminescence the Gods had redeemed themselves. A single bolt of lightening struck them solid as they stood entwined in a mutual embrace, longing to be one. Their once divergent souls faded into a single sphere of light, shining above the Grand Canyon with an immaculate perfection, glowing louder then the brightest stars. The clouds parted and the rains ceased. A celestial aisle of breeze and moonlight unfolded from the skies to escort them proudly back home to regain their place among the heavens once again. They were no longer actual or ideal, subject and object, specified or contracted, man or woman; they were whole.
In the midst of all the philosophical, scientific, and religious explanations of love, perhaps Plato has unified all these concepts into his understanding of the union of the souls. In the beginning the sexes were not two as there are now, but three in number. There was man, woman, and the unified soul. Man was the original child of the Sun, the woman of the Earth, and the union of the moon. The union was round with a side and back that merged into a perfect sphere. They had four hands and feet, a single head with two beautiful faces that could never see each other, but touched one another’s presence from within. The union was complete, self-sufficient, and contained the ideal of both genders merged together. The union walked upright, forwards and backwards, and could roll over using all eight limbs with an intimate precision. Their knowledge and might was powerful and matched only by their unbridled pride and ambition. The unions gathered in a large canyon, vowing to scale the heavens and march an attack upon the merciless Gods. The Gods anticipated their revolt and swiftly retaliated against the bold insolence of the unions. As they remained gathered in the canyon unaware of the Gods’ fury, they were struck with shrieking lightening bolts and severed into pairs. The amputated unions wept for forty days and forty nights, filling the canyon with their tears. After the split they clung to each other, intertwined in mutual embraces, throwing their arms around one another longing to be one. They could not do anything apart or abandon their prefect mate. The scornful Gods were still not satisfied with their punishment and stole one partner of each union, dispersing them through the lands of the Earth. The fragmented unions wandered the globe tirelessly, guided only by their destiny, forever seeking to reunite with their divided soul mates and the need to again be complete.