Romanticism, Pure and Hopeless

I'm not one to watch the ABC Family Channel much, especially since I remember when it was the Fox Family Channel, a two-word contradiction if there ever was one. Nevertheless, I am so happy that they have started airing episodes of Gilmore Girls in syndication. Unfortunately, the decision to air Rory and Lorelai does not fully atone for the accumulation of 7th Heaven.

Gilmore Girls has been on my TV page for a couple years now. I'm obviously pleased that I now can view six hours per week instead of one. Why? At least for the first three seasons Harvard plays an important role. I can even forgive Rory for picking Y--e, since it's her family school, and it looks a lot nicer on TV than real life, with far fewer muggings. More importantly, the show treats its characters as if they are smart enough to consider the Ivy League. They talk quickly, with fun references like Nag Hammadi and Mussolini and Proust. Actually, referencing Proust in season 5 to flashback to a key plot point of season 1. They can be intelligent and still dress nicely and have activities beyond school. It's a huge improvement from Urkel. And, of course, smart chicks are so hot. Yet, if I just wanted intelligent subjects and talk, I could watch PBS. The Gilmores offer more. They offer the search for love. The love of family is important, across three generations, but that's not the best part. Instead, it's the hopeless romanticism of the single Lorelais. In that, they're like me.

What is Romanticism?

It's losing her number and chalking building walls to search for her.
It's a flower on the first date.
It's calling her beautiful.
It's relying on a handwritten letter.
It's a song to her, no matter how out of tune.
It's making a butterfly out of pipe cleaners and tissue paper, because she said she was cocooning.
It's post it notes in the shape of a heart on her door.
It's spontaneous sympathetic tears.
It's arguing over the criteria of a perfect kiss.
It's waiting through Lent for that kiss, because that's the wrong liturgical season.
It's that kiss under a shower of feathers.
It's screaming out your love in a plaza ten years later.
It's citing a school note of love on worldwide TV.
It's walking hand in hand in the park after forty years.

Romanticism is idealism, emotion, passion, the words and acts expressing beauty and love.

One of the huge problems with modern American life is that are so few romantics. Most couples have occasional brushes with the joyful emotion; I routinely ask engaged or married couples about their marriage proposal. In general, though, it's nowhere bear enough. Males particularly are conditioned to avoid this stuff. When did emotion become inexpressible? This isn't even negative, unlike the tears. People like these things, but even positive actions are neglected or suppressed. Even taking the hunter-provider Neanderthal approach, building joy and happiness is certainly something worth doing. As the Wiccans say, what you create comes back to you three-fold.

Personally, this lack of romanticism causes problems. Some people get it like me. I've signed letters to friends with "Love", doodled pictures on envelopes, decorated a professor's office door, and bought flowers just to brighten a space. A lot of people don't understand at all, and I have trouble dealing with them. A larger group misjudges intent. Because I'm romantic and want to be expressive, I consider a lot of actions fairly small, like a flower on a date. Because we're on different scales, others misread the acts as much more meaningful and serious. Just because I write a letter doesn't mean there's some forty year plan, or even a forty day plan. It's just a note.

There are bad sides to romanticism, too. It becomes corrupted when the idealism becomes fantasy. We all know about cases like John Hinckley and Jodie Foster, which are hideously extreme, but there are lesser damages. Some say there's exactly one soulmate for each of us. What if mine is in Botswana? Some create worlds of marriage and a house in Aurora and three kids and a dog after one date. Isn't it enough to appreciate the great things that have happened? Some try to horde the beauty. How can expression be hidden under a basket? Some think only the extravagant works, like a hundred thousand dollar wedding. What's the most expensive thing in my description?

Hopeless romanticism, my affliction, is weaker. It's temptation to that corruption through fantasy, concupiscence in the idea that any proper relationship must explode into immediate bliss. Too much is waiting for the perfect, the enemy of the good. Too easy to slip, for Lorelai "a man like Aragorn" and for Adam "a woman like Clarisse McClellan". Too tempting to compare everyone to that fantasy, a standard basically no one can meet. Who's good enough? "A prince, maybe. One that's in line to be king. Not one of those waiting-for-a-brother-to-die ones, but a real one," Luke states for Rory in the October 19 episode. That's wonderful dreaming, but also too much. It stands as an impediment to good dating relationships, including mine. (Of course, my depressive spells and lack of self-confidence tend to be bigger blocks.) I need to keep the balance tilted towards reality.

Romanticism, properly done, is one of the most powerful positives in the world. There's so much that can celebrate beauty and love naturally, even in my life. So many ideas, from the small - have I complimented someone today? - to the spectacularly over the top, like a thousand yellow daisies. The realists have taken control of our ideas, and the fearmongers have stolen the passion. Maybe we need a society, the "Society for Romanticism." Expressing joyful thoughts, and taking passionate acts, is part of what I need to do. Cognitively, beauty breeds beauty. Really, it would help every one of us. Now, all I need is the fortitude to carry it out.

Written between October 16 and 20, 2004. Updated Thanksgiving Day. No, this was not written for a particular lady.

The examples of romanticism are not all mine, of course. In some cases, I changed the gender, to keep a constant perspective. I borrowed from several sources. If you want to know exactly where, contact me at adam@twelvefruits.com.