Horse and Carriage

Fear not, Dear Reader.  Despite the manner in which the Following Begins, it is not a maudlin Love Story.

The need for the Advisory Warning in the paragraph above is Explained later on.

The need for two Explanatory Paragraphs before the Commencement of the Subject Matter at Hand is nowhere explained, and, Truth be told, is undoubtedly totally unnecessary.

This last week had an event of Some Note in the Life of Your Humble Narrator, assuming that the annual marking of True Events of Note are also Events of Note and further assuming that there is some mystical numerological significance in the number 25.  (Why five squared is more significant than either 4 squared or 6 squared is one of the Mysteries of Life.)  July 9 marked the Twenty-fifth Anniversary of the Marriage of Your Humble Narrator and the Long-Suffering Wife of Your Humble Narrator (LSWYHN).  The temptation is quite strong to now commence on an Encomium (and perhaps even a Panegyric) to My Beloved Wife, but Two Factors Prohibit this from Occurring.

First: The LSWYHN would not appreciate being Discussed in such a manner.  And, while the LSWHN rarely visits these precincts and thus would likely be eternally unaware of the existence of said Encomium, there is a slight danger that the LSWYHN would discover this and then Your Humble Narrator would be subject to the withering scowl of the LSWYHN, which as everyone who has ever been subject to said scowl (a set which comprises Your Humble Narrator and nobody else) knows, is a Fate not to be Tempted.

Second: At times, Your Humble Narrator takes pity upon the Reader and spares the Reader from the excesses of Your Humble Narrator’s prose.  (The Reader may now shudder that if the writings herein are sparing the Reader of Excess, then contemplating the Horror of being not-so-spared is something to be Avoided.)

Once, when I was teaching a January course entitled “Reflections on War” (a Great Books class—pretty interesting set of readings), I asked the class why they were all so fascinated by war that they would be interested in a class of that title.  I then asked how many of them would have taken a class entitled “Reflections on Love.”  Nobody would have taken it, and indeed, the look of utter disgust crossing the faces of the students in the class was amusing to behold.  Apparently, the average Mount Holyoke Student does not want to hear all about Love.  Yet, this same set of students were eagerly looking forward to rereading Pride and Prejudice in the Reflections on War class.  (Determining why that novel was in a class entitled Reflections on War is an interesting exercise left for the Reader.)  Presumably the aversion to a class on Love signifies a related aversion to blog posts on Love.

All of which brings us to the matter to be reviewed. Chekov’s “The Huntsman.”  The Huntsman is married to a poor woman, but he married her when drunk and now sees her as little as possible.  The poor woman would like the huntsman to be home.  She runs into him on the road.  They talk (briefly).  He wanders off. 

So, here we have a marriage.  But a loveless marriage.  Indeed, other than the legal existence of the marriage, it is hard to see in what other sense these two people are married.  This is not a Love Story.  (Grousing about short stories: On.  Well, it barely rates as a “Story.”  Grousing: Off)  It does point, however, to the strong belief we have in the modern West of a tight association between Love and Marriage. I love my wife; I am married to my wife.  These things seem like a natural pairing.  But, historically, they are not naturally paired.  Arranged marriages, marriages of convenience, shotgun marriages, political marriages, all these are the norm.  Moreover, marriages because of a desire for offspring are also quite normal.  Marriages born of Love?  Why do we think that is the Norm when it clearly is not.  Why are we surprised that No Fault Divorce coupled with an emphasis on the relationship of Love and Marriage results is strikingly high divorce rates?  In the modern world, a story like the Huntsman makes no sense; why would the Huntsman feel any compulsion to stay married to a woman for whom he feels nothing?  Why would his wife hope for, let alone expect, him to stay with her for even a day?  The entire pathos (such as it is) of this story hinges on the fact that these two people are bound in marriage.

But, I have to say, having just celebrated my 25^th wedding anniversary shortly after reading this story, it is a rather nice thing to be able to say:  I love you, Janet.  You are an Amazingly Wonderful wife.