Marriage sucks!
Salon reviews a book about the death of marriage.
Why would anyone submit to the doomed delusion that is marriage? The unmarried among us have surely begun to ask this question. (No doubt the married have, too, though in the past tense.) For several years now, disdain for heterosexual unions has been on the rise -- or at least the disdainful have been more vocal -- and it's become increasingly difficult to believe that a lasting marriage is possible. If it is possible, the "hard work" it requires will wring the partnership of all passion and wonderment and joy. From the narratives of wifely grievance routinely published in women's magazines to the spectacular public bust-ups of numerous celebrity marriages in which we have placed our bruised faith, it's easy to glean that we currently inhabit a vast and bleak landscape of marital discontent.
There are numbers to corroborate this: In a much-discussed recent survey of 35,000 American women, published in the July issue of Woman's Day, 72 percent of married women said they had considered leaving their husbands. Seventy-nine percent said they'd like sex more often, and 52 percent said they have no sex life to speak of. Contemporary marriage, all signs would indicate, is a long, tedious slog toward sex-starved paunchiness via an endless, embittering negotiation of banalities: who will shuttle the kids, walk the dog, prepare the meals, wash the laundry.
Last week, as though timed to the release of the survey findings, two female writers offered their respective takes on the subject. In a heavily parsed essay in the July/August issue of the Atlantic Monthly titled "Let's Call the Whole Thing Off," writer Sandra Tsing-Loh explores the dissolution of her 20-year marriage, pinpointing as the superficial cause her extramarital affair and subsequent inability "to take on yet another home- and self-improvement project, that of rekindling [her] romance." From her personal predicament she diagnoses a broader epidemic of dissatisfaction -- emotional, social, familial and, most of all, sexual -- among women. "To work, to parent, to housekeep, to be the ones who schedule 'date night' ... and then, in the bedroom, to be ignored -- it's a bum deal," she writes. Literary critic and essayist Christina Nehring, who also happens to write for the Atlantic, takes a more impersonal approach in her contrarian polemic, "A Vindication of Love"; she writes of the bankrupt state of romantic love in our society: "We inhabit a world in which every aspect of romance from meeting to mating has been streamlined, safety-checked and emptied of spiritual consequence … Romance in our day is a poor and shrunken thing."
Why would anyone submit to the doomed delusion that is marriage? The unmarried among us have surely begun to ask this question. (No doubt the married have, too, though in the past tense.) For several years now, disdain for heterosexual unions has been on the rise -- or at least the disdainful have been more vocal -- and it's become increasingly difficult to believe that a lasting marriage is possible. If it is possible, the "hard work" it requires will wring the partnership of all passion and wonderment and joy. From the narratives of wifely grievance routinely published in women's magazines to the spectacular public bust-ups of numerous celebrity marriages in which we have placed our bruised faith, it's easy to glean that we currently inhabit a vast and bleak landscape of marital discontent.
There are numbers to corroborate this: In a much-discussed recent survey of 35,000 American women, published in the July issue of Woman's Day, 72 percent of married women said they had considered leaving their husbands. Seventy-nine percent said they'd like sex more often, and 52 percent said they have no sex life to speak of. Contemporary marriage, all signs would indicate, is a long, tedious slog toward sex-starved paunchiness via an endless, embittering negotiation of banalities: who will shuttle the kids, walk the dog, prepare the meals, wash the laundry.
Last week, as though timed to the release of the survey findings, two female writers offered their respective takes on the subject. In a heavily parsed essay in the July/August issue of the Atlantic Monthly titled "Let's Call the Whole Thing Off," writer Sandra Tsing-Loh explores the dissolution of her 20-year marriage, pinpointing as the superficial cause her extramarital affair and subsequent inability "to take on yet another home- and self-improvement project, that of rekindling [her] romance." From her personal predicament she diagnoses a broader epidemic of dissatisfaction -- emotional, social, familial and, most of all, sexual -- among women. "To work, to parent, to housekeep, to be the ones who schedule 'date night' ... and then, in the bedroom, to be ignored -- it's a bum deal," she writes. Literary critic and essayist Christina Nehring, who also happens to write for the Atlantic, takes a more impersonal approach in her contrarian polemic, "A Vindication of Love"; she writes of the bankrupt state of romantic love in our society: "We inhabit a world in which every aspect of romance from meeting to mating has been streamlined, safety-checked and emptied of spiritual consequence … Romance in our day is a poor and shrunken thing."
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