The Scarlet Pimpernel and Marriage

One of the fondest memories of former Brookewood seventh-graders seems to be reading Baroness Orczy's The Scarlet Pimpernel. Never one to willingly disappoint, I duly picked up the novel to read over the summer so I could read it with my new students when the school year starts. So, when my maid of honor forced me to watch The Scarlet Pimpernel on DVD, I was shocked and appalled by the shear banality of the story.

The film tells the story of an outrageous fop who secretly helps rescue French nobility from the jaws of the guillotine in the year of grace 1792. His wife, unaware of his alter-ego, unwittingly aids her ex-lover, now-French-special-agent in the discovery of her husband. The story follows the trite pattern of a super-hero movie where the beautiful, hapless heroine discovers the secret identity of her noble lover. There is, of course, a daring series of intrigues leading up to a predictable climax. Not literature.

But the film fundamentally misunderstands the novel. The novel isn't about the Scarlet Pimpernel, or Sir Percival Blakely, at all. It's about his wife, Lady Marguerite Blakely, and the couple's discovery what marriage really is.

In the novel, the audience sees inside the mind of Lady Blakely. She, too, has been taken in by the foppish facade of her aristocratic husband. She married him because he stood out as the most devoted among countless admirers. He has ceased to love her. She cannot understand why and holds him in contempt for his unintelligence.

She is so selfishly caught up in her own world that when the French agent presents her with a terrifying choice--whether to save her brother from the guillotine at the price of helping to identify the Scarlet Pimernel--she never seriously considers going to her husband for aid. She has too little respect for him as a person and a man to trust him. Only later, the dirty deed irrevocably done, does she think to speak with him about what has happened.

When she starts to speak with him, the audience finally finds out what motivates them both--what estranges them and ruins their marriage. Pride. The night they were married, Sir Percival discovered that his wife had sent someone to the guillotine. Trusting in his undying devotion, Lady Blakley proudly refused him an explanation. Out of pride, Sir Percival hid all his affection from her, unwilling for the world to see his love for the heartless women he then believed his wife to be. Out of pride, Lady Blakely refused to tell him how unwitting her betrayal had been. For a year, they hadn't shown each other the mutual affection they smolders beneath the surface of their cold relationship or to tell each other the truths the long to reveal.

The rest of the novel chronicles Lady Blakely's gradual realization who her husband is and the terrible betrayal she has made out of ignorance. To save him, she tracks him to Dover and then across the channel to France. In an inversion of the story of Erec and Enide, she slowly realises that her doddering fool is the bravest and most competent man in Europe. She regrets that she has been so blinded by pride that she could not detect his identity sooner and spare the betrayal. When they are safe, Sir Percival in turn laments the pain and suffering his proud reticence caused his wife.

The filmed versions of The Scarlet Pimpernel make into an adventure story what is actually a beautiful love story. The novel's brilliance lies in Lady Blakely's slow discovery how strong and masculine her husband is. It lies in Sir Percival's hard-won realization how important honesty is in a relationship. And it lies in the couple's final understanding that pride has no place in a happy, open marriage.

Male and Female He Created Them

Sexuality affects all aspects of the human person in the unity of his body and soul. It especially concerns affectivity, the capacity to love and to procreate, and in a more general way the aptitude for forming bonds of communion with others.

Everyone, man and woman, should acknowledge and accept his sexual identity. Physical, moral, and spiritual difference and complementarity are oriented toward the goods of marriage and the flourishing of family life. The harmony of the couple and of society depends in part on the way in which the complementarity, needs, and mutual support between the sexes are lived out.

"In creating men 'male and female,' God gives man and woman an equal personal dignity." "Man is a person, man and woman equally so, since both were created in the image and likeness of the personal God."

Each of the two sexes is an image of the power and tenderness of God, with equal dignity though in a different way.
--Catechism of the Catholic Church

There is a beautiful George MacDonald story called The Myth of Photogen and Nycteris. In the tale, the witch Watho abducts two young children--a boy and a girl. She raises the boy to be strong and fearless, but to never encounter the dark. She raises the girl to be wise and calm, but to never see light brighter than a small globe in her otherwise pitch-black room. Eventually, the two discover each other and make a daring escape from the witch's kingdom. It takes all of their shared talents and virtues to make the journey alive.

The story is, on top of being a brilliant tale in its own right, a poignant allegory for the relationship between men and women. Photogen is deeply involved in the world, strong, able to take care of Nycteris. Nycteris is my retired, thoughtful, but able to get Photogen through the darkest nights and his deepest fears. As a child, I loved that image of cooperation, love between two perfect equals necessary for each others' completeness. As a grown woman, soon to marry my own Photogen, I find the story even more compelling.

Perhaps that's why I was deeply disturbed to hear a Catholic priest recently questioning the idea that men and women have separate but complimentary virtues. That idea has been so fundamentally important to me as I've learned to accept and then love my identity as a woman. I don't want to go back to defining my worth by how well I embody the virtues I admire in men: strength, directness, assertiveness. Those aren't my virtues--when I tried to pretend they were, the only made me unhappy and disliked. But, if they aren't male virtues, why did valuing them feel so fundamentally wrong?

The priest's claim was that language about complementarity has only come into the Church's teaching during the past fifty years or so. As he frames it, the emphasis on men and women's separate virtues is a reaction to the feminist revolution--a resurgence of conservatism on the part of the Catholic Church. "I don't remember this kind of wording from my childhood," he said. Another priest corroborated. In a few days of searching, I haven't been able to find a single document that solidly proves them wrong. Even the texts cited in the Catechism (quoted above) all post-date Vatican II.

But what if the priest's causation is wrong. What if the emphasis on male and female virtue isn't a conservative redefinition? The Chuch didn't strongly assert the Oness of the Trinity until it was denied by the Nestorians. And it didn't clarify the two natures of Christ until the Monophysites challenged it. The Church only stands up to declare something true once someone else claims it is false. Otherwise, the Church usually takes the truth for granted.

What if, then, the new emphasis of male and female virtue is another case where the Church has stood up to say, "Wait. This is what we've always believed!"? What if the Church is warning us about the loss of a fundamental perception of ourselves that has always been our privilege and our right? What if complementarity--the truth of men and women being created by God as perfect physical and spiritual pairs--is true at so basic a level that no one ever bother up to defend it until it was challenged?

I don't know if I'm right. I don't know if I've bought into a reactionary conservative redefinition of my sexuality that encourages me to accept domination and control. But I do know that this image of femininity, that I am a Nycertis naturally equipped to love my husband and children, makes me feel more liberated and happy than the idea that I had to force myself to be like a man ever did. No two human beings have the same set of virtues, but I'll continue to work toward the compassion and love that I believe are the special aptitude of my sex

Our Hundreth Post: Moved In Again

It seems only appropriate that ...and Enide's hundredth post commemorates a huge milestone in my life with Adam. We signed our lease on Friday. The two of us now rent an apartment together.

Neither Adam nor I have been independent, self-sufficient adults since I went back to graduate school two years ago. We've lived independently and paid our own rent (for the most part), but across continents and oceans. We're starting over in DC with very little. We've bought a car. We getting our own health and car insurance for the first time. We're furnishing an apartment with our own ingenuity--not Ikea stuff, but real furniture. There's a lot of tedium in store for us in the next few weeks. But I like that, for us, the process of becoming grown-up people is a part of our marriage experience. It's something that we get to share, the final steps of growing up together. When I move into our apartment after the wedding, I'll be moving into a home we've built together--just for the two of us.

The pictures are of our apartment complex and the park near our apartment. I'll post more pictures of our apartment as we decorate.

Invitations: Double Check!

I was hoping to post yesterday about the joys of signing our first shared lease, which we have done, but we've mislaid the camera and all the photographs of this momentous event. Instead, I give you the completed invitations:


We're mailing invitations on Tuesday or Wednesday, as soon as they arrive!

Shoujo Anime... or Even More Marriage Advice in Another Unexpected Place

Shoujo isn't a genre but a demographic. Unlike shonen manga, written for junior-high-aged boys (like Onegai Sensei) or seinen manga, written for eighteen- to thirty-year-old men (like Saikano), shoujo anime and manga is written for young women. As such, it tends to focus on human relationships and emotions. Honestly, most shoujo anime and mange is pretty cheesy. But, occassionally, it can be uplifting and insightful.

Fruits Basket is one of the more thoughtful shoujo mangas I've read. The heroine, Tohru, moves into a tent on a large tract of land after her widowed mother dies, leaving her without a place to live. The owners of the land discover her and invite her to move into their home as a cook, cleaner, and surrogate sister. Of course there's a twist. The owners and certain members of the rest of their family are possessed by the animals of the Chinese zodiac. They lose their human form when they are especially weakened by exhaustion or illness, or by physical contact with members of the opposite sex. Needless to say, hillarity ensues.

The manga explores a number of themes relevant and interesting to fifteen-year-old girls and maybe more than its fair share of romance and pubescant sexual tension. These are well-developed, but nothing new. But the manga also dwells on the significance and importance of physical intimacy for all kinds of human relationships in a meaningful way.

For a family that can't even hug without being transformed into a rat or a cow, intimacy is rare and sporadic. Many of the young men in the series were raised by mothers who couldn't hold them, who can't even help care for their younger siblings. Many of their mothers break down under the pressure of being denied the simple but vital priveledge of holding their babies. Most of the characters cursed by the zodiac have been raised by parents who are distant or absent at best, physically and emotionally abusive at worst. Their inability to touch their parents only makes the distance between them more difficult to bridge.

Even worse, none of the members of the zodiac are--can be--in meaningful romantic relationships. They live in the fear of what will happen if their lover touches them. In the end, they run away from love to avoid that fear. These are people who love deeply and crave meaning in their relationships with others, but whose curse denies them the priveldge they so crave. It's only at the end of the manga, when they finally break the curse, that any of the relationships which have been growing for the 136-chapter manga blossom.

The manga forced me to think about my own attitude toward physical intimacy in romantic relationships. I was raised in a religious tradition that seemed to have a love-hate relatonship with sexuality. Abstinence before marriage was clearly pivotal, so sex was villanized to preteens and teens. But that attitude contrasted sharply with the beautiful connection my parents and others like them obviously had. I didn't know what to think. Was physicality important for relationships or not? Was sex evil?

Since becomming Catholic, and learning more about the theology of marriage, I've developed a much better understanding--in the academic sense, at least--of just how important physical intimacy in relationships is. A marriage isn't even a marriage until it is consummated. And a consummated marriage, a physical oneness between husband and wife, is a natural and beautiful state created by God at the very dawn of human history. Touch is a part of human existence. A lover who can't touch, a husband who can't become one--these are tragedic figures.

Fruits Basket is the story of young men and women overcoming their personal tragedies, fighting against their curse for the priveledge of physical contact. It is marvelously insightful for capturing just how important physical intimacy--or at least the promise of physical intimacy--is for a romantic relationship. A hug, a kiss can make all the difference during a courtship. And a total personal openess, a perfect gift of self, is a vital part of a working marriage.

This is the third part in an unintentional series on marriage in anime and manga. You can see my posts on Saikano and Onegai Sensei. You can also read Fruits Basket on-line here.

Real, Live Fiance

I picked Adam up from the airport on Monday night. I hadn't seen him in person in nine weeks, twelve hours, and about thirty minutes. But he's here now and--as far as any of us are able to foresee--here to stay...

Despite the hypocrisy of my position, long distance relationships still aren't something I condone or encourage. They turn your beloved into two separate, sometimes irreconcilable people. I'm engaged to two Adams: a flat, distant, sometimes Adam and a very real, dynamic, right-here Adam. Every time I see him, I have to bring the two together, like trying to force double vision back to the way it belongs in the middle of a bad headache. The experience isn't now and never has been pleasant.

Flat, distant, sometimes Adam has his advantages. It's difficult to get into a serious argument with him. It's easier to get things done--like writing regular blog posts--when I only spend an hour a day with him. And when we've spent the other twenty-three hours apart, it's often easier to come up with things to talk about.

Most of all, though, it's easier to put myself before sometimes Adam. I decide how important it is to talk to him. If I'm tired or if I've got something I'd rather do, we don't talk. I have more self-determination about the way I spend my time. I set priorities differently when Adam isn't around to set him first.

It isn't that right-here Adam is controlling. Far from it. It's that, without him around, there's no presence to constantly remind me to put other people first. I'm more selfish when he isn't around. If my vocation is to marriage, being in a relationship where marriage is the ultimate goal enriches who I am, makes me want to be a more loving person to him and everyone I meet. It's just that constant, self-imposed moral pressure like that is a little difficult to get used to every time we've been apart.

There are other benefits to right-here Adam, too. Right-here Adam can hold me and kiss me. He can make me feel loved and appreciated in ways sometimes Adam never, ever could. He can be a helpmate--he spends so much time reading with me, helping me cook, comforting me when I'm sitting in traffic... These are things sometimes Adam just isn't capable of.

So, in the end, I always have to remember that I love both Adams. The fun, witty sometimes Adam I talk to on the phone and the deeper, more loving Adam I see in front of me now every day. It's just that right-here Adam is more dynamic, more human. I'm very grateful for that and look forward to spending the rest of my life with a guy of his depth.

Comments

I've just been informed that people have had a difficult time commenting on my blog. I've opened comments to annonymous users--at least for the time being. Your thoughts are always welcomed!

Wedding Party: Amy the Bridesmaid

Part two in my series on why I picked my wedding party...

...well, I guess I didn't pick Amy. Amy is my sister. But, even if she wasn't, I would still love to have Amy as a friend and bridesmaid.

Amy brings the fun to our wedding party. That's just who she is. As a life-long worrier and stick-in-the-mud, I've been very lucky to have her around. She's always got a smile on her face and a joke on her lips. She's been the one reminding me that wedding dress shopping is supposed to be fun. And she's the one who constantly reminds me how beautiful I look.

But Amy is more than a party-maker. She also has an unusually keen sense of perspective. Where my mother and I tend to lose focus, she reminds us what is and isn't important. When the bridesmaids' dresses are the wrong length, she reminds us, "Everyone will still look beautiful." But when I fall in love with a slightly over-budget veil, she chides, "You've stayed in budget everywhere else. Go for it."

Best of all, Amy's an honest critic. In a wedding-party whose most frequent response is "We like whatever you like," she really stands out as frank and open. As much as I appreciate the open-mindedness of the rest of my wedding party, I'm extremely grateful for Amy's candid judgments about the dress, the veil, the band... When she doesn't like something, she lets me know. As a result, I also know her compliments and praises are sincere. When she oohs and aahs and begs to borrow my dress when she marries, I know she really loves it.

Amy spent the last two days on a long trek from Atlanta to DC via the Machina Mysteriorum. I can't really thank her enough for her concrete, practical help in starting my new life with Adam or for her more abstract ability to help my mother and I stay sane. If you're choosing bridesmaids, you'd be well-served to choose a fun and earnest friend to balance your party.

Staying at Home

I know it's a bit early to think about raising children, but it's been on my mind the past few days.

When we went through our marriage prep course, Adam and I were heavily encouraged to discuss whether or not I would stay home. Adam thinks it is almost absolutely necessary for me to stay home with our children, whereas I'm a little more ambivalent. It's not that we don't agree on the importance of having a mother at home--at least before the kids start school--it's that I'm afraid I may go absolutely stir crazy and feel like a burden, rather than someone who contributes to society.

I couldn't figure out why I felt this way. Women have stayed home with children for thousands of years. Why did I think I was special? Then, reading my old Little House on the Prairie Cookbook, it hit me: staying at home used to be an absolutely vital and valued job.

Prior to the last century, staying at home was undeniably and necessarily a full-time job that contributed to the family and society in many necessary ways. If mom didn't stay home, no one ate vegetables or learned how to read. Without mom, the house was filthy, the family went naked. The elderly and the sick in the community went unfed. No one could doubt the importance of mom in such a role. No mom could feel undervalued or unhelpful. Compare that to today: in our less self-sufficient society, a mom's only necessary roles are nanny and shopper. Where's the sense of value and purpose in that?

It's not that I'm critical of modern stay-at-home moms. In many ways, it's much more of a sacrifice and an admirable thing to do to take a job society-at-large no longer values as it ought. Many, many moms do something great with their time at home with their children--they become far more than the nannies and shoppers society invites them to be. But I think it's obvious now--and I can't believe it never occurred to me before--that women left the home because they no longer felt needed and wanted there. The by-the-book position of "stay-at-home-mom" is merely a vestige of the beautiful and glorious thing it was before.

Adam's right, I know, about the importance of a mother staying home. We were both lucky enough to have mothers who did extraordinary things with their roles--teaching us, taking us to amazing places, serving as active members of the community... I hope, if I think about their examples--and if Adam and I continue to make our home as sustainable and self-sufficient as we can--I can contribute as much as they did to my family and to society and stay at home.

The Veil

You may remember the veil saga. I am proud to announce that it is over. Adam beautifully and sympathetically told me he trusts me to choose something than makes me look and feel beautiful. I have. And I love it.

You can find a series of photos here. I would ask Adam not to look.

There should be more posts of substance soon. I'm in the process of moving to Washington, DC.

More Oxford

I'm leaving Oxford this morning at four am. If you're one of my readers from outside of Oxford and just haven't had enough of Oxford yet, I suggest you direct your browser to Exetera, the new webcomic/blog of one of my very best Oxford friends, Ruth. Hilarity will ensue, I promise.

Abundance

Without going into too much personal detail, I have to own up a little concern about living expenses for the summer. I've been living fairly frugally in Oxford (and Adam in Seattle), but frugal living isn't really the kind of living I like. It's not that I crave a life of luxury or nice new things. But I would like to go out to a nice dinner or two with friends, to throw parties with nice food, or to be able to buy nice presents for others. A summer back in DC with people I love but no money seems...well... unideal.

That's why I was so encouraged by today's scripture reading, 2 Corinithians 9: 6-11:

Consider this: whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully.Each must do as already determined, without sadness or compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. Moreover, God is able to make every grace abundant for you, so that in all things, always having all you need, you may have an abundance for every good work. As it is written: "He scatters abroad, he gives to the poor; his righteousness endures forever." The one who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed and increase the harvest of your righteousness. You are being enriched in every way for all generosity, which through us produces thanksgiving to God.

I know money isn't necessary to do nice things for others. But I felt really blessed by the reminder that God will take care of us and that always, no matter what, there will be enough leftover for us to help take care of others, too.

Picking a Fight

In our marriage prep, Adam and I have been told time and time again to watch out for the "first big fight." We've both found the idea of fighting difficult to imagine. Neither of us tend to get into loud arguments with others--at least not anymore. We've never had a real explosive fight between the two of us. Neither of our parents fight very often, so it isn't a learned behavior. Besides, what would we fight about?

Over the past few weeks, I've begun to understand. Making adult decisions for the "real world" has thrown us into a context where arguments seem possible where they never had before.

Adam and I aren't good at making decisions on our own. He tends to put them off and then make them impulsively. I fret endlessly, weigh the pros and cons before, unable to decide, I choose arbitrarily. Those two habits don't make for good shared decision making. Choosing a car, deciding what to do for summer work, signing a lease on an apartment--these things are all opportunities for arguments to begin I'd never really thought about.

No, we haven't had (and I hope won't have) any explosive arguments. Our relationship isn't in danger. I still love Adam more than I can possibly say. But I think I understand now why people who love each other have arguments about seemingly-unimportant things: those "unimportant things" are actually fairly important decisions people don't know how to make. It's very, very difficult to make shared decisions. I'm glad we became aware of it now so we can work on the skill together.

Loved, Part Two: CLC

I think you'll have to indulge a few days of nostalgia, or else come back next week when my life is a bit more settled. I'm leaving Oxford on Thursday. I'm trying to spend the next few days digesting what I've learned.

One of the priests at the chaplaincy suggested to me in October that I ought to join the Christian Life Community group here in Oxford as part of my marriage preparation. CLC is a lay Jesuit organization based on small groups of Catholic Christians praying together in community. The prayer is usually done as imaginative contemplation. To begin with, I was really skeptical. Imaginative contemplation seemed like a glorified RPG with disciples instead of wizards and a prayer guide instead of a DM. I've been really blessed to find out I was wrong.

I've posted before about imaginative contemplation. But I don't think I've put much effort into conveying how special and life-changing the community has been for me. There are six of us--three guys and three girls. We meet once a week to talk and pray. It's been absolutely wonderful being a such a consistently open and loving community. I've felt really loved and cherished.

More than that, though, the experience has really changed the way I perceive other people as Christians. I used to discount spiritual experiences I hadn't had--it seemed too impossible and distant to imagine there was more out there. But here I was, spending a night each week with five other people with distinct prayer lives and relationships with God. In a setting that intimate, there's no way to deny there are things about faith I don't understand. At the same time, the experience has made me feel more secure about myself as a Christian. I no longer feel compelled to squeeze my faith into the mold of the contemplative life--Christianity is more diverse than that. I'm not a contemplative, so I feel much happier in my relationship with God when I'm not trying to be.

Most importantly, CLC has told me a lot about love in action. After each prayer session, every member shares his or her experiences. It's just a time of sharing--no comments or responses. I've never had to listen that way, without considering a rebuttal or advice. It sharpened my attention on what it was my group members we saying and made their experiences seem more real. It forced me to be still in a way I never had before. When we started the group, I was always anxious about how long meditations would last. I needed to know I how long I would have to keep my mind quiet. Now, I usually feel comfortable in the silence. I don't always have the concentration to pray as long as the other members of my group, but I can enjoy the stillness of patiently waiting for them, basking in God's love and our love as a group.

So, I'm very grateful for CLC. I think the experience has made me more human and more willing to accept the humanity of others. I can't think of a more valuable lesson for marriage, or for life. Thank you.

Loved

I submitted my dissertation on Friday. I'm finished. I have to say the whole thing felt like a bit of an anti-climax. The project that just started a series of goodbyes.

I've always felt uncomfortable trying to make friends. It's something Adam has continually chided me about. My "not-me" comes out when I don't want her, too and I just can't stand the thought of showing her to anyone.

It's taken me a long time to learn to feel loved. But I have been loved. By my family first. Then by Adam, who convinced me that unconditional love is possible. And I have been loved in Oxford. These past few days full of good-byes have really shown me how loved and appreciated I am.

I guess that sounds a little self-centered. But, when it comes down to it, learning how to be loved is, for some of us, a lot harder than learning to love. Learning to trust that Adam loves me has been one of the very hardest lessons I've had to learn as we've prepared for marriage. If I can't learn it, I know our marriage will be cursed by mistrust and self-doubt.

That's part of the reason I'm so very grateful for my friends in Oxford. I hope they all know what a life-changing experience friendship with them has been.


These are photos from two wonderful evenings with friends from the chaplaincy over the past two days. I'll try to post pictures with other friends soon. You're all loved, too!

A Guilty Registry Pleasure

I've posted before about the crisis of conscience Adam and I had about registering. I'm afraid I've moved a bit beyond the moral stage. Once I realized that I was making a list of things that we really needed, or things we could use to have fun with friends, registering suddenly became a lot more fun.

Imagine my surprise and delight when I discovered Amazon.com, too, will make a donation to Habitat for Humanity whenever someone purchases something from a registry. Free license! I'm afraid I've diverted myself from my (now almost finished) dissertation for the last several days with this.

Adam and I don't want to register for things like sheets or towels of napkins rings. We'd like to decorate our home ourselves. But can you think of anything else useful or fun we may have missed?

The Problem of Modern Novels: Howards End and Marriage

If you've ever asked me if I've read a novel, you've probably gotten my token response: "Is the author still alive?" I just don't read modern literature. The snooty Medievalist comes out and wonders, "If it hasn't already withstood the test of time, how do I know it's worth my time to read it?" Besides, modern novels tend to be bleak, depressing with no uplifting moral at the end. They all seem to be about unstoppable decay or the loss of meaning. I don't want to read about those things. How are they going to make me happier or better?

I picked up a copy of E. M. Forster's Howards End from the Chaplaincy library in a moment of desperation for something to read. Being a modern novel, events were sure to disappoint the idealistic heroines who "desired that public life should mirror whatever is good in life within." When Margaret, the earnest protagonist marries the emotionally stunted capitalist, Mr. Wilcox, the reader can almost be ensured of tragedy. Her plan to love him--because "the more she let herself love him, the more chance was there that he would set his soul in order"--is surely set up to fail.

Imagine my surprise and delight to discover that Howards End is nothing I fear in modern novels. Instead of gradually leading readers into disillusionment with Margaret, the narrator helps us to slowly develop a respect for her quiet strenghth. Instead of agnostically challenging the value of love in a modern, transient world, Forster focuses our attention on the ever-increasing importance of marriage and stability. The titular home, Howards End, isn't symbolic for loss of place, as I originally expected. Instead, it's the place where the protagonists "stop," finally finding rest and peace in their love for each other.

In the end, against all odds--and against all of my expectations for a modern novel--Margaret's love really does redeem her husband. Her sisters describes it best: "You picked up the pieces and made us a home. Can't it strike you--even for a moment--that your life has been heroic?" There is something indomitably heroic about Margaret's life. Loving without counting the cost, with perfect faith in the goodness she sees within people if only someone has the patience and courage to draw it out. Nothing turns out for Margaret the way she plans. But, in her unwaivering support for her husband and her family, she makes a happy life for herself.

Adam says I don't like happy stories, but I think he misunderstands. I like stories with substance and meaning--those just often turn out to be the sad ones. I don't like most modern novels, but I do like Howards End. If Margaret's hopes were frustrated, if Forster affirmed the futility of human relationships, it would be a far less true book than it is the way it stands. Margaret has a happy ending, even though its nothing like she expected. And its because she had the courage to love.

Oxford: A Reflection on Gratitude

A priest recently assigned me to sit and think of the people and experiences I'm grateful for in Oxford. I suppose it's a really good exercise for life, to accept where we are and love life the way it is. So, here's a list (in no particular order) of some of the things about Oxford I'm most grateful for:

• Oxford is truly beautiful. I've never lived somewhere with this much architectural beauty--and probably never will again. It's taught me to pay more attention to beauty in my daily life, not to overlook it as common-place.
• For the first time in my life, I have a wonderful group of female friends. Making female friends has been a real challenge for me all of my life. I feel so immensely grateful for the women I've met here and their acceptance.
• I've been a part of a wonderful Christian community this past year. I prayed so hard for one last year. I often felt lost and alone. This year, I've felt the love and support of the Catholics and the chaplaincy and many of my Christian coursemates.
• All of my coursemates are awesome and amazing. I'm always grateful for the chance to be around other clever people. It helps me keep my own life and education in perspective.
• CLC has changed my life.
• I would never have gotten involved in ballet if it wasn't for the Oxford University Dance Society. Dancing on stage was an amazing experience. I am strong and flexible as I've ever been. And I've learned to truly love ballet, as a performer and a spectator.
• I'm so glad to have been able to learn so much about English culture! Beans on toast... Doctor Who... tea... But I'm grateful for the subtle ways being in England has affected my American psyche. I don't feel rushed urgency the way I used to. It's a habit I hope I can keep.
• Most of all, I've made friendships that I hope will last a lifetime. So many of my Oxford friends have already changed my life.
  

The last week has been pretty difficult. I'm feeling desperate to finish my dissertation, be with Adam again, and to get on with my life. But this is my life right now. And it's beautiful.

(Sorry for the quality of the recording of my favorite pep song. They sound WAY better on the CD!)

Regret

If being away from Adam has done anything for our relationship, it's better taught me the value of every moment with him. So, on those days I miss him the most, it's easy to get bogged down in the times I've wasted his affection or a moment I could have shared with him.

The worst are the memories of times I was cruel. I laughed a haircut he got to make me happy. I used his sweaters, the ones I liked the least, to mop up mess from the exploded dishwasher. I almost threw a shoe through his window. These are all funny stories now, but tinged with a hint of regret. God gave me a moment to love and I said no. There's no going back.

But I regret, too, the moments I wasted with Adam, back when we had all the time in the world together. The days neither of us did anything wrong except not enjoying each others' company. He made a picnic for me on a day I wanted to go to a movie, so I pouted. I offered to take him to see Tommy, but he wanted to stay in. Believe it or not, one of my biggest regrets is not taking him up on a dinner to Carrabas before we started dating. Those are moments, moments that could have been special but have been lost forever.

I guess we're lucky. We know now what are lives are like without each other. We've decided we don't like them that way. I hope that, even as the years pass, we'll remember how much every moment together used to mean to us. Life really isn't the same without him.

In a fairy tale my mother used to read to me, a father failed to understand his daughter's claim that she loved him "more than meat loves salt." I do love Adam more than meat loves salt and my life lacks savor without him.

Sing-a-Long Sound of Music

The Sound of Music always, always makes me cry. It always has. But, one of the remarkable testaments to the true power of the film is this: I never cry at the same moment twice.

When I was very small, I cried when Mr. Von Trapp sings Edelweiss. It was a lullaby my mother sang to me. It always chokes me up to see a man crying.

When I was a teenager, I cried with Rolph abandons Liesel and reports her family to the Nazis. There isn't much more terrifying to a teenager than true love gone so horribly, horribly wrong.

A few years ago, I cried when the Mother Superior sings Climb Every Mountain. "Maria, the love between a man and woman is holy, too," she reassures Maria. I love that moment. What a powerful testament, even in the midst of a convent, how precious married love can be.

But last night, for the first time, I cried at the wedding scene. All out cried. I cried when the nuns walked Maria into the church, passing her off to her new step-daughter. I cried when Captain Von Trapp patiently waited at the altar for Maria to walk down the isle. I cried at Maria with her gorgeous dress, all of those well-wishers watching. And I cried when they both knelt in front of the bishop, with Liesel as a witness, to join each other in marriage.

Adam once laughed me for how hard he expects me to cry at our wedding. At the time, I wrote him off. But I think he may be right. Weddings are so beautiful, so meaningful... even when they're someone elses. I don't quite now how I'll respond to my own.

Seinen Anime... or More Marriage Advice in Another Unexpected Place

While I'm on the subject of bizarre cross-cultural relations, I may as well bring up another favorite anime/manga, Saikano.

The plot of Saikano sounds about as ridiculous as Onegai Sensei, but the story is much darker. It's about a high school couple in a small Japanese town struggling to cope with life as the world slowly comes to an end--with more of a whimper than a bang. Soon into their relationship, Shuji discovers that the Japanese military is gradually turning his girlfriend, Chise, into a weapon of mass destruction. "The Last Love Song on This Little Planet." That's the subtitle of the series and an adequate summary of what happens next. The world collapses around them as the two fall more and more deeply in love.

Because of it's genre--men in their twenties and thirties are the target audience for seinen manga--it still has a lot of graphic sexual imagery. Also some dialogue nuggets like, "You look nervous. Here, touch my breasts." But, as the story progresses, Shuji learns to reject the part of himself that only wants a physical relationship. More and more, he comes to crave companionship and a meaningful relationship with Chise--all the while, she struggles to remain human enough to reciprocate.

The anime isn't available subtitled in English online, but you can also read my favorite manga chapters here. Shuji and Chise attempt to run away from the military and lead a normal life. There aren't many inhabited towns left, but they find a small fishing village and set up house there. They live together "as man and wife," enacting the future together they so desparately crave. Shuji has to work to support Chise as she gets more and more ill without the military's mechanical support. She's taken care of him, protected him and their town for so long--for the first time, he can take care of her. He watches her body fall apart, revealing the monstrous machine underneath, and he loves her anyway. And, to the end of the Earth, the both remember their time together as the happiest of their lives.

That episode raises some of the same questions I've already been asking about what a marriage is. (See here and here.) Chise and Shuji never undertake a wedding ceremony, but I can't imagine denying that such a couple--so desperately in love, so ready to give their lives for one another, so determined to stay together until the end of time--isn't already married. The series also highlights how important marriage is for basic human existence. Chise and eventually Shuji want nothing more than a home and family. Even when the world is dying, the greatest human tragedy is this: the end of the world means they cannot have a future together.

Again, Saikano isn't a perfect story. But it is a gorgeous story about two people in love, struggling to start and protect a relationship when nothing else is left.

Ecchi Anime... or A Marriage Lesson in An Unexpected Place

Before I discovered BBC iPlayer, I wasted a lot of time on Google Video watching anime. Fan-subbed anime is a bit hit-or-miss. There's so much really strange anime out there.

Onegai Sensi is one of the strangest. The plot follows an eighteen-year-old boy and his wife. The catch? The groom is still in high school, catching up after three years off with a mysterious illness. The bride? A benevolent alien babe sent to study the education system on Earth which means... she is also Kei's teacher. In the series' first episode, the two get caught together in an accidentally-compromising situation. To avoid Kei's expulsion and Sensei's job loss, the two fiegn a marriage the later validate to avoid suspicion.

Yes. The plot is hokey. And yes, the anime is full of ecchi breast shots and heavy inuendo. But, beneath that, the story is astonishingly frank. It chronicles the very real obstacles Kei and Sensei have to overcome to make their marriage work. This episode is one of my favorites because it captures so many of the dynamic ups and downs as they learn to love each other:

• Sensei is more intelligent than Kei--she has to learn not to lord it over him, he, not to resent her for it. Kei still copes with bouts of illness--Sensei has to learn not to undermine his masculinity and he has to learn to accept help from her.
• Sensei works full-time--she and Kei struggle to achieve a work, homelife balance.
• Kei still likes to spend time with his friends, to whom his marriage is a secret--Sensei has to overcome her suspicions and jealousies. Kei, in turn, is the object of one of his friends' affections--he has to seriously consider his level of commitment to his wife and to disentangle himself gently.
• And both Kei and Sensei struggle with their shyness and reserve before they can consumate their relationship.

I'm not claiming that Onegai Sensi is high literature. But it is a wonderful example of how important insights pop up in even the most bizarre of places. In one way or another, Adam and I have already found ourselves learning most of these lessons. For something frivolous, the series is surprisingly insightful.

Overall, I'm glad I've watched the series. If nothing else, it's done wonders in teaching me to laugh more at myself as I learn to be part of a marriage partnership with Adam.

Prayer List

I can't remember whether or not I've posted about one of our greatest areas for improvement. As comfortable as we are together, Adam and I find it a little difficult to pray together.

Ultimately, I think the problem may stem from the hard time I have praying by myself. It's so hard to sit down and focus for deep, contemplative prayer. This year, doing CLC has been a real blessing. I've learned to pray with and as a community, a lesson I hope to make use of with Adam. But it's something we're still working on.

But there is one way we already pray together that makes me really happy. Adam and I keep a list of vocations to pray for: people who we know are discerning a call to religious life and people who feel strongly called to married life, but just haven't found that special person. I hope I don't sound condescending, but Adam's been such an incredible blessing to me that I'd love to be even a tiny, tiny part of someone else's story.

So, if we know you're looking for someone or thinking about religious life, we're probably praying for you! And if we don't, we'd love to add you to our list.

Being Alone

Despite all the affected misanthropy of my early life, I really like people. I like being around them, even when my social awkwardness gets in the way. There are very few things I enjoy doing alone. It's so much nicer to go for walks, even silent and meditative ones, with other people--in fact, I started falling in love with Adam on just such a walk, Veterans Day 2003. It's even nicer to read with other people in the room, asking them to explain the funny bits and getting them a cup of tea when they seem especially abstracted. And I find God most easily praying with other people in the room, even if we're all doing it in silence.

That's one of the things I look forward to the most about marriage. Adam's a partner, to share life's moments with me, no matter how small. I'm glad every moment of our lives doesn't have to be an exciting climax. The spectacular and the mundane--it's all a pleasure with Adam.

But again and again during marriage prep we've been warned: you have to spend time alone. You'll go crazy if you spend all your time with your spouse! I guess I understand the principle, but I've often wondered how. What in my life will be as enjoyable without Adam there. Outings with friends perhaps, but that's not really spending time alone. How will I find the strength to be on my own when the temptation of Adam's company is so great?

It hit me tonight: bath time! Taking a bath is the one and only thing I truly prefer doing alone. I love to lie in the bubbles and lose myself in a book for hours at a time. I come out feeling so clean, renewed, ready to take on the world. And, based on the picture I found earlier, it seems I may have always felt that way. It's good to know I've found a place where I can find calm and peace by myself, without missing Adam.

So, I'm glad to have found a compromise with myself, something I really enjoy doing alone. I hope Adam can find his and that I can be as patient and understanding of it as he has been of my bubble bath disappearances when I go to visit him. Is there anything you
really enjoy doing alone?

Ballet... or, Why I Missed Two Days Posting Last Week

As most of you probably know, last Friday and Saturday marked my first dancing performance on stage in almost twenty years. The experience was exhilarating!

I pushed my body far beyond what I thought my limits of endurance were, which was wonderful. I had a lot of fun, which was phenomenal. But, most importantly, I had a huge number of friends come and support me.

I have to own up that I was a bit bashful about dancing on stage--I'm not a paragon of grace. I'm so glad so many people came and enjoyed the show. Thank you! All of you.

Some pictures are available on Facebook, here. For those of you Stateside, there should be a DVD in a few weeks for your viewing pleasure... or not.

Moved In!

I've only just finished assembling my new Tesco desk! So ends the six-month epic of furnishing my tiny, idiosyncratic room at the Oxford University Catholic Chaplaincy. I move out in two weeks.

Over six years since I graduated from high school (that makes me feel a bit dated!), my life hasn't really been the picture of stability. I've visited fourteen countries on three continents, seen eleven states. I've lived on two sides of the Atlantic, and in four states. My mailing address has changed a whopping eleven times--try explaining that to the person giving you a background check! I beat Adam for moves, but not by much. Even this year, when we both have the same physical address for two years in a row, we've both moved into new rooms in the same building.

I think I understand now why people talk about "settling down." I love the idea of living in the same city, building up a community I won't have to leave every six months. And I crave my own kitchen to clean, my own bedroom to decorate, my own craft room to liter with fabric and sheet music. I'm ready to carve out my own space in the world, literally. For a tiny pocket of existence to be mine, and to share it with Adam.

I've always been afraid "settling down" was related to "settling," giving up on something you wanted for the sake of emotional support. But I'm not "settling" for Adam--I'm choosing him as the greatest adventure life has to offer me. We're not retiring from life by getting married like a pair of agoraphobic recluses. We're setting up a life for ourselves, a foundation built on the rock, and setting out on the mission God has in store for the two of us--together.

Yesterday, I told Adam I was ready to go home. He asked me where home was. I told him that home is where he is. I don't care if we live in a cardboard box as long as it's a space that's ours to share.

You can read a chronicle of my family's European ramblings here. Pictures!