Pig-headedness triumphant

I've been reading Ryan and Jetha's Sex at Dawn: The Prehistoric Origins of Modern Sexuality, and I came across a quote that set me thinking. In a chapter on various theoretical understandings (and misunderstandings) of marriage, they quote the 13th-century Dominican friar Vincent of Beauvais, in his Speculum Doctrinale (Mirror of Doctrine), as saying, "The upright man should love his wife with his judgment, not his affections."

What interests me about this quote is that it echoes something I used to tell Wife back in the day, albeit with a twist. Whenever she would work herself up into a fit of depressive anxiety saying, "You don't love me! You don't even like me!" I would answer by saying that of course I did love her. But I would follow by making a crucial distinction. I would insist that love is not an emotion.

Of course that's an odd thing to say, and I didn't mean it that flatly. Naturally I know that love is (among other things) an emotion. But my point was always that love is not only an emotion. In particular, I told her, love is (also) a decision, a matter of will. And as a result, I went on, it can be a lot more stable than a "mere" emotion. After all, emotions come and go; my feelings -- insofar as they are just feelings -- can turn on a dime. But my decision to stick with her through thick and thin was something fixed. (I know, I was wrong. This is what I said then.) I always used the metaphor of the ocean, saying that love-as-emotion is as variable as the storm-toss'd surface, with waves rising and falling all the time, buffeted by winds and pelted by rain. But love-as-will, I insisted, was like the rock floor: deeper than the surface squalls, and steadier. Solid. Permanent. (I have alluded to this recurring speech in a couple of earlier posts, notably here and here.)

So when I read the quote above, I asked myself, "Did I really mean the same thing as Vincent of Beauvais? Did I really mean judgment instead of will?"

No I didn't. The way I can be sure is that for so many years I cheated my judgment, or overrode it, when it came to evaluating my marriage. My judgment told me that Wife was a liar; my will said "Stay with her." My judgment told me that Wife was irresponsible; my will said "Stay with her." My judgment told me that she would betray me at every turn, rip the flesh from my bones, and then blame me for getting blood on the carpet.

My will said "Stay with her." And I did.

So no, it wasn't my judgment, nor my affections. It was just willfulness, pure and simple. Pig-headedness elevated to the status of principle. Or damned-fool stupidity, take your pick.

And what has happened now? Well, there are multiple answers. My affections have been engaged by D -- that's for sure! I am allowing my judgment to speak the truth about Wife's faults. (At the same time, I have to admit the possibility that I may be blinding myself to any virtues she still possesses.) These are both answers that I have written about quite a lot.

But on another level, the answer may be simpler: I have made another decision. While there were doubtless reasons behind that decision, they may be immaterial, or of psychological interest only. The fundamental fact may simply be that I have decided it's over; and therefore, by virtue of all the same stubborn pig-headedness I exhibited earlier, I may have guaranteed that there is no going back. I have said more than once that I can't imagine reconciling with Wife, even if D were not part of the picture. Maybe this is just because of my mulish intransigence, that won't let me change my mind once I have really settled on something. Depressing thought ... I wish I didn't believe it.

P.S.: When I first thought of writing this post, I planned to title it "Triumph of the Will," partly because that blind willfulness is exactly what I am writing about, and partly because in the end it hasn't worked out all that well, really and truly. But at the last minute I decided that title would be in over-the-top bad taste, ... even for me. So I chickened out.