NOTES FROM THE HINTERLAND
IS MARRIAGE NECESSARY?
By Laurie Meunier Graves
Not long ago, my husband and I saw a dreadful movie called Dangerous
Beauty, a story that charted the pleasures (sex and money) and perils
(being accused of witchcraft) of being a courtesan in sixteenth-century
Venice. I tend to be a sucker for period pieces, but only a sap would have
found this movie to be anything but a soap opera dressed in gowns and bows.
From the slight script to the uninspired acting and finally to the
ridiculous denouement, this movie hit so many false notes that my husband
and I wondered why we stayed with the film to the end. (Too much time spent
at film festivals and therefore too high a tolerance for movies that go
nowhere?) However, there was one aspect that the filmmakers did get
right—that is, the attitude people in the sixteenth century had about
marriage. To those far away denizens of the Renaissance, marriage was not a
matter of love, the joining of two kindred spirits who would be a
consolation to each other if they were lucky enough to grow old. Instead, it
was a practical matter, designed to ensure the continuation of families,
and, if possible, to improve their fortunes. Love had little to do with it,
and if husbands and wives came to have affection for each other, then it was
just a matter of luck. In addition, divorce was practically unheard of
except for the very highest. Back then, when people married, it was for
life, “until death do us part,” making the marriage vows seem like a stern
warning.
Yet despite the lack of romance and love, literature and historians tell us
that people—men as well as women—were keen to get married and spent a great
deal of time, effort, and money to do so. They also tell us that once
married, people were equally keen to have affairs, and some
of the greatest love poems were written to someone else’s spouse.
When did this all start to change? In his engaging book Will in the World,
an exploration of Shakespeare and his times, Stephen Greenblatt posits that
the change began with the Puritans, the champions not only of religious
fervor but also of individualism. “Shakespeare was not alone in his time in
finding it difficult to portray or even imagine fully achieved marital
intimacy. It took decades of Puritan insistence on the importance of
companionship in marriage to change the social, cultural, and psychological
landscape.” It stretches the modern imagination to envision Puritans
embracing marital intimacy and companionship, but Martin Luther reportedly
had such a relationship with his wife, and from Luther all things Protestant
flowed.
From there, it was on to the Enlightenment and to the rise of something that
would plumb in great detail the various aspects of marriage, love, and
relationships. I am referring, of course, to the novel, which by the early
1800s was charting the conflict between marrying for family and marrying for
love and companionship. Nowhere is this better illustrated than in Jane
Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, a novel that explores the wide range of
beliefs, expectations, hopes, and fears about marriage at the beginning of
the nineteenth century.
Readers will recall the central story in Pride and Prejudice. Young,
lively Elizabeth Bennet must overcome her prejudice against proud, handsome
Mr. Darcy to realize that she is in love with him. For his part, Mr. Darcy
must turn away from pride and snobbery to realize that even though Elizabeth
is below his station, she is the woman for him. Over the years, Elizabeth
and Mr. Darcy have become one of literature’s most famous couples, poised on
the brink of attraction as well as an antagonism brought on not only by
personality but also by class and family expectations. In the end, love
softens them both and allows Jane Austen to give Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy the
happy ending they deserve but that society is bent on denying them. In
Pride and Prejudice, love really does conquer all—at least as far as
Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy are concerned.
However, other couples in the novel are not as lucky, and, as a result,
inflict various degrees of misery on each other. Elizabeth’s own parents—Mr.
and Mrs. Bennet—are locked in a marriage so unhappy that it’s almost
difficult to envision how they ever came together in the first place. Mr.
Bennet’s cool intellect runs counter to Mrs. Bennet’s hot emotions, which
frequently explode into hysteria, often at Mr. Bennet’s instigation. His
study and his books are his retreat, his only way to cope with a woman whose
intelligence is so inferior to his that there is no common ground between
them. Lydia Bennett, their daughter, makes an even more disastrous marriage
to the venal George Wickham, a man whose charm hides a destructive, selfish
heart. Finally, Charlotte Lucas, Elizabeth’s best friend, marries the
pompous Mr. Collins, a man so obtuse that he doesn’t realize what an
ass he is. Practical and on the verge of spinsterhood, Charlotte sees
Mr. Collins as her only means of getting her own home. She goes into
the marriage with open eyes, very much aware of the price she will have to
pay but willing to pay it nonetheless. And in fact, Charlotte’s choices are
stark—she can either live with her parents or get married. Getting a job was
not an option for an upper-middle-class woman in the 1800s. Marriage was
still very much necessary.
One of the things that makes Pride and Prejudice fascinating is this
examination of society’s changing views about marriage. Greenblatt might be
right when he states that these changes started with the Puritans, but, as
Jane Austen and other writers illustrate, they were still in a state of flux
at the turn of the nineteenth century. Couples were marrying for love, but
they were also marrying for family and wealth. These opposing principles
provided plenty of fictional conflict, and it’s my guess that they provided
real-life conflicts as well.
A hundred or so years later, Henry James and Edith Wharton would mine
similar territory, albeit without the happy endings. Before World War I,
marrying for love and marrying for family and money were still issues that
plagued young couples. However after the World Wars, much was cast aside,
and it looked as though the individual had finally triumphed over society
and family. Romance blossomed in movies and in novels, and, more often than
not, the guy got the girl. Family was scarcely a consideration, and, if by
some chance, there was parental disapproval, love usually won in the end.
Even in real life, this appeared to be true. None of the stories told by my
parents or my husband’s parents involved young lovers thwarted by their
families. It was all love and romance and the happy mingling of kindred
spirits. Or was it?
In the 1950s, when my mother was young, women were heading off to college in
greater numbers than in any previous generation. No doubt some of these
women had the sincere wish to be educated. However, that generation of women
is notorious for considering college to be a sort of marriage mart, a way to
catch an eligible man who would be a good provider for them and for their
children. On the surface, they were doing their own choosing, but
underneath, stability and financial considerations were very much on these
women’s minds. And why wouldn’t they be? What real options did women have?
Few careers were open to them, and those that were didn’t pay well. For
women, marriage was the primary path to financial security, and although
marriages were no longer arranged the way they were in the past, the
emphasis on money brings the 1950s closer to Renaissance Italy than might be
initially supposed. Yes, love was a factor but so was comfort and money.
Marriage continued to be a necessity, especially for women.
The real change came about during the1960s with the women’s movement, when
women decided that they, too, wanted to be part of the work world, the world of
men. Doors that had been shut tight were starting to open, slowly and
reluctantly at first but wider and wider with each generation. They are
still not completely open, but they are open enough so that the old rules no
longer apply. Few women of my daughters’ generation expect men to support
them. These young women are devoted to their careers, and because of this,
it is no surprise that women are waiting until their early thirties to get
married, if they marry at all. For them, marriage is no longer the only
option they have. It is a choice to be made for various reasons, for children
(also a choice, now) or even for companionship. But after all these long
years, marriage is no longer necessary. Women can support themselves and
decide whether they want children. The old order has finally crumbled, and
as far as I am concerned, good riddance. The twentieth century brought many,
many ills to the world, but the change in women’s roles is one of the bright
spots of which we can all be proud.
Naturally, not everyone is comfortable with this development. The
fundamentalists and the far right long for a return to the time when men
were men and women knew their place. They are doing their best to turn back
the clock, but so far they have been unsuccessful. Even those (usually the
older generation) who are less conservative often feel uncomfortable with
the notion that marriage has become a choice that is not necessarily for
everyone. Current literature and movies reflect this societal unease, but
that is a topic for another essay.
However, by and large, the twenty-somethings seem to be taking the change in
stride. Some of them will get married, and some of them will not. Some will
have children; others will choose to focus on their careers. To them I say
good luck and may the choice be with them and with future generations.
