| OPINION/
Medb Ruane / Irish Times Wearing a
thong under his Manchester United togs may put
spice in David Beckham's romance but for most
marriages these days, you don't need tight
underwear to sense how partnerships pinch.
Whether power marriage or good old quest for
intimacy, play truth or dare with most married
couples and the answer to "What's it
like?" must be "Ouch, it's tough."
Quests for intimacy become passionate
struggles to find some sort of personal space.
Within months of the ceremonial act, you realise
that what you used to call "compromise"
is about as close to its real meaning as ice
cream is to snow. With women's financial
dependency on men quickly disappearing and
equally speedy alterations in relative earning
power, a quick look at the institution makes you
wonder whether and how it will survive.
Marriage made some sense when economics
governed its transactions: no sex, no children
and no full social respectability unless you tied
the knot - in theory at least. Not now.
Marriage is losing its appeal as a primary
rite of passage, despite more people worldwide
opting to marry a succession of partners in
greater numbers than ever before.
Even apart from the ceremonies, nearly 25 per
cent of babies in the State are born to single
parents.
Half-brothers or sisters, multiple biological
and cultural grandparents, even a civilised
relationship with a husband-in-law (your
husband's ex-wife's current husband: she becomes
your wife-in-law) can't mask the trend that is
splicing the concept of marriage from that of
family for the first time.
Some folk say that because social and family
cultures are changing, people who are, or are
about to be, married expect too much. This, they
argue, explains the contemporary partnership
pinch.
No doubt it's plain silly to expect consistent
romance, excitement, or that your partner will be
able to read your mind at times when you don't
even know what's on it.
Communities that honestly want to help
people's marriages aren't likely to achieve that
outcome by putting the institution first. If
coercion may have kept marriage going for longer
than some should have, helping contemporary
marriage means facing the human consequences of
promoting a cash-rich, time-poor culture alone.
The longings for intimacy and companionship
that mark contemporary marriages are neither new
nor selfish, despite some claims. Human hope may
be more art than science, but it's trucked along
through centuries of change.
Look at history and you confirm what you may
have suspected all along: that people always
hoped for such qualities, and at their best
survived the gradual dulling of pheromones by
amplifying the full resonance of that old thing
called love.
Art Uí Laoghaire's widow became a poet after
he died, and not only because she had to raise
their children alone. Whether you take advice
from the Wyf of Bath or your best friend's
father, a good marriage may well be a triumph of
will over feeling, or indeed of feeling over
sense.
Like most indications of mental health, we
could be happier letting some illusions reign.
Marriage has few empirical measures. A minority
of married people do live the hell on earth of a
persistently emotionally or physically abusive
partner, in which case it's time to take serious
action. But for the rest, there is no reliable
map.
The happiest marriages people admit to are
those which are childless and relatively
financially comfortable. Men tend to report
higher contentment levels than women.
But whatever your happiness rating, the ball
game changes drastically once a child or children
comes along.
You know at the pivotal moment when the
promise of an early night finally starts to mean
getting some sleep that Nora Ephron's branding of
a baby's effects as "a grenade thrown into a
marriage" wasn't just a clever phrase. Even
new men and new women may suddenly find
themselves rehearsing old moves.
Irish people are quite sensibly voting with
their feet, or more accurately, their left-hand
ring fingers. People here can afford to marry
earlier than ever before, yet they are not. Good
for them, some will say.
Marriage was tough enough when you broke both
legal and tribal values if you dared to step
outside it.
But in this cash-rich, time-poor age, once the
wedding dress is packed in mothballs and the
morning suit returned to the rental shop, its
dynamics are seriously up for grabs.
No matter what the culture pretends, marriage
is not a natural state. Swans do mate for life;
humans have to work at it. You know this before
you marry, but the full resonance hits you later
- and keeps on doing so until death does you
part.
Whatever advice you're given, or whatever
training you try to access, the lived experience
is so far from the theory that at times you'd
need a personal coach just to get you through.
Marriage manuals try their best, but might more
accurately bear titles like The Shock of the New.
Centuries of experience about how men and
women live in harmony together come to naught the
day after each couple stands in front of a
registrar or a clergyman to take their solemn
vows. Like falling in love, each pair who live it
do so as if for the first time.
Unmarried people seem to know this
instinctively - and question married couples as
if they are curators of some mysterious
futuristic museum.
Stay married for 10 years and people
congratulate your endurance. Stay married for 20
or more and younger folk may regard you as a
quaint, if puzzling, fogey.
At the end of it all is an image, perhaps a
fantasy, of lasting love where a man and woman
sit hand-in-hand as contented senior citizens,
having finally worked it all out.
Endurance, enjoyment, companionship - the
question is how we manage all that in between.
e-mail: mruane@irish-times.ie
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