I lay here on my couch basking in a strange sensation. I just read a book that simultaneously criticized and aggrandized love. It’s hard to draw certain conclusions from such paradoxical pieces of writing. Yet, my mind gravitates to a lesson within.
It comes up around half way through the book. Alain, the narrator, author, and main character of the book is a couple months into the relationship which is the core of the plot. There he takes a couple pages away from the plot, and reflects on the relationship. This provision of narrator meta-commentary on the plot was common throughout the novel. It’s a practice that encourages reflection in both the reader and the author. The book is the best of both worlds, interesting romantic plot and thoughtful, informative reflection.
In that section, Alain’s prose sensitively suggests to us that a lover is someone people learn about themselves through. His analogy for this concept is a “biased mirror”. Lovers learn about us in ways that only someone intimately attached could, and we learn about that intimate self through their observations (intimate here meaning sexual, but also deeply personal). Of course though, people are biased, and certain biases can lead to certain difficulties. For example, if a lover only sees our cruel intentions, all we will learn from them is our capacity for cruel intentions. We will subsequently hate our learnt selves. Likewise, if all they see in us is success, we will see ourselves a mighty god or goddess; our arrogance will grow abhorrent.
The solution seems to be a healthy lover is someone who sees us as we truly are. A healthy lover is one who sees our faults, failures, triumphs, and strengths. This willingness to see the good and bad within all of us reduces the bias inherent in observation and makes it easier for us to actually learn about ourselves. Still, all of this is dependent on both parties having a willingness to express. A mirror can reflect nothing if one doesn’t first step in front of it.
All of this seems like a difficult ordeal, and the book doesn’t shy away from that. Nevertheless the book makes clear that if one wants the wisdom of Socrates, “know thyself,” one must love and be loved.
Marcus King 