From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [403]
My point, his mind said, the apex of my conclusions, is that the illusion of romantic love, being an illusion grounded on the principle of you build me up and I build you up, cannot last through the years of you tear me down and I tear you down. Thats why the men step out and the women take to religion.
But as long as you can keep the illusion, he argued grimly, you can love. And if you’ve got the illusion, then by god you do love. Reality or no reality.
True, his mind said, coolly. And marriage is the great illusion breaker. You dont believe me, try it.
I intend to, he told it.
You see, it said, the foundation principle behind the illusive principle of Romantic Love—the Reality, in other words, behind the Fantasy—is Love of Self; which, up to the time of this paper, has remained undiscovered.
Probably, Warden said, thats because the illusion has received such general recognition and acceptance through the medium of commercial advertising?
Yes, it said indifferently. Now, to get back. What you really love, then, is Milt Warden. As long as she builds you up and makes you love Milt Warden more, because he is such a fine outstanding man, you love her too, naturally. Because she makes you a finer better man. But, when she begins to tear you down and make you love Milt Warden less, because he’s such an obvious no good son of a bitch, you naturally dont love her near so much any more. Because you arent such a nice person any more. And eventually, when it keeps on long enough, you dont love her any more at all. Its really very simple, once you understand it.
All right, Warden said impatiently. But whats to keep two people from just building each other up indefinitely.
Well, his mind frowned, its a little hard to explain to a layman. Theoretically, there is nothing. But in practice it gets rather repetitious. It gets rather hard to keep on inventing new compliments. Eventually, you reach a saturation point beyond which you can do no more than repeat. Naturally, the other party gets suspicious, if not actually bored.
A pretty picture, he said. You leave me a very pretty picture. Okay, you’ve diagnosed the ailment, how about the cure?
You misunderstood, his mind said. The subject of this paper is the isolation of the virus. We are not attempting to lay out a course of treatment.
Well, thats fine, Warden said. Thats just fine. You prove to me that I’m dying from a disease, and then tell me its incurable.
Well, his mind said, the isolation of the virus opens several avenues of approach. We have a few ideas we’re working on—
Better, he said, to have let me died in blissful ignorance.
I thought you were a man who liked to know the facts? his mind said stiffly.
Facts, hell! How do you think I’m going to tell her the facts?
Thats your problem. Of course, it said, there is always the possibility that she already knows the facts.
Yes, he said, that just what I’m afraid of.
To date, his mind said, the only known path of recovery from the disease of love is to get married.
You mean, just let it wear itself out.
Thats it.
And walk on crutches the rest of your life.
Well, his mind said, at least you wont be dead.
Give me polio any time, he said.
Well, his mind said, I guess I’ll sign off now. If I find anything new I’ll let you know.
Well, thanks, he said. Well, thanks a lot.
He sat on in the chair alone, wondering if this was how a man felt whose doctor has just told him he has cancer, and waiting for mortgageforecloser Ross to come in.
He wondered if the man with cancer also would worry most of all about how to tell his wife?
Even whiskey had no medicinal value for this disease. Hadnt he just tried two days of it?—because he was afraid to go