Sex and the Cynics sample chapter
Chapter 1: Happily Never After?
Nick Pollard
This sample chapter is taken from Sex and the Cynics: Talking about the search for love, edited by Tony Watkins and published by Damaris Books (an imprint of Authentic), November 2005.
There was once an academic conference who defined love as:
'The cognitive-affective state characterized by intrusive and obsessive fantasizing concerning reciprocity of amorant feeling by the object of the amorance.'
That's not the most romantic definition I have heard. Try using that over a candle-lit dinner! I actually prefer the definition offered by a four year old girl who, when asked what love is, thought for a while before replying, 'Love is when two people think that they are pretty but no one else does.'
Whatever terms one uses to define love, the fact is that, as the introduction to the film Love Actually said, love is all around us. We watch films about love, we read books about love, and we listen to songs about love. But, for many people, real love remains at best elusive, and at worst impossible. That may be your experience, or that of your friends. So, let's look at two different (but related) perspectives on love and see how these might affect your friends' understanding of the concept that God loves them.
First, we will look at those who have given up on love altogether. Then we will look at those who are hoping for love but not expecting it to last. In each case we will dig into some philosophical exploration of the subject, both the kind of philosophy that you find in libraries and the kind that you find in cinemas. But our goal will be to think through how we might be better at helping such people to discover that, no matter what their life experience has been, there is a God who loves them and longs for them to come into a relationship with him.
Cynical about love
Martin Seligman is a psychologist who became famous in the 1970s through his research into the effect of having (or not having) control of our environment. Like many at that time, he carried out his research by doing terrible things to animals. For example, he would put a dog into a box which delivered an electric shock through the floor, but contained a lever that would turn off the electricity if the dog pressed it. Of course, the dog jumped around, frantically searching for a way out, and eventually knocked the lever by accident. After repeating this several times, the dog learned to press that lever as soon as the electricity was turned on. Meanwhile, Seligman put other dogs in a box where there was no way that they could escape the pain. Initially they, also, would jump around, but there was no lever that they could knock into and then learn to press. For them there was no way that they could escape the shock. So eventually they would give up, sit down, whimper, and accept the pain. This was as one might expect. But more surprising was what happened if the second set of dogs was then placed in the first box. They did nothing. They didn't even try to escape the pain. Indeed, even if there was an open door that they could easily walk through to get away from the shock, they did not take it.
Seligman coined a term to describe what had happened to these dogs he called it 'learned helplessness'. He said that these dogs had learned to be helpless; they had learned that there was nothing they could do to make any difference to the pain they were experiencing, and so they just accepted it.
This concept was then applied to human experience. Very few of us have been placed in a box and subjected to electric shocks. But many of us have experienced other sources of pain particularly emotional pain. And we, too, can learn helplessness if we have experienced enough times when we have been unable to do anything about it. We won't sit and whimper like Seligman's dogs, but we will develop a pessimistic cynicism that is expressed in phrases such as, 'Why bother?' or, 'What's the point?'
Many of the people who tell me that they do not believe in love describe a process in their lives that has been rather similar to the experience of Seligman's dogs. There was a time when they were positive about love, when they believed that it was real and was really for them. But then they went through experiences that changed all that. Their search for love had produced unavoidable pain and they came to the conclusion that love does not exist at least for them anyway.
Many such people will identify Mike Nichols' latest film Closer (Columbia Pictures, 2004), which tells the story of the interplay between two men and two women over several years. This is surely an ironic title since the four main characters in this film are never close, and never get closer. They have sex with each other, in various combinations, but there is no real intimacy. The sex is used as a weapon. What should be a means of expressing love is used as a tool to manipulate other people. And they also use words in this power-play words that should draw people close in fact push people away. For example, even when they 'confess the truth' to each other, this is used as a tool to manipulate the other rather than a means of drawing them into a real, intimate relationship. It is significant that this film was directed by Mike Nichols who, almost forty years previously, had directed The Graduate (United Artists, 1967) a film about a young man's relationship with a girl and her mother. Here, as well, sex was used as a power-play and the lover's words were not to be trusted.
There are many today for whom these two films, almost forty years apart, sandwich together their lifetime experience of the pain that love can bring. They reflect their belief that what some call love is actually just a manipulative power-play. Such a cynical view has been explored and expressed not just on the cinema screen, but also by philosophers through the centuries. It goes back a long way to, among others, a group of thinkers in the ancient world called The Cynics or the 'dog philosophers' (from the nickname of Diogenes of Sinope one of its best known proponents). The Cynics believed that happiness would come from being set free from any emotions or desires that tie people down. For them, love was a bad thing because of all the emotion that comes with it, good and bad.
Another example is the nineteenth century German philosopher Schopenhauer. He thought that the human will was carried along by mindless, aimless, non-rational urges. When he then applied that to a consideration of love, he condemned it as a blind, mindless striving of the will. According to Schopenhauer, love is nothing but the inherent drive to reproduce, that blinds us to reality and ties us to the misery of an unsatisfied hunger. Arguably, Schopenhauer's greatest influence on contemporary culture has not come directly from his writing, but through his influence on novelists and composers, many of whom have expressed his cynicism through their art. Take, for example, Wagner's opera Tristan and Isolde . This was written after Wagner had read Schopenhauer's World As Will and Representation (apparently reading it four times over!) and had been hugely influenced by it. So Wagner's opera tells the story of a couple's inappropriate, but unavoidable, passion for each other which tragically destroys them both.
Many today will identify with the outcome of Wagner's opera, with the cynicism of Schopenhauer and with the bleakness of Mike Nichol's Closer . And this has a profound effect upon the way in which they hear the gospel message. Suppose we try to tell them the good news, 'God loves you'. How might they react to that? If they really do have the view of love outlined above, we will probably find that they will not want to listen to us not necessarily because they don't believe in God , but because they don't believe in love .
If it was the case that they just didn't believe in God they may be quite willing to discuss the point. In my experience, atheists and agnostics are keen to argue about God's existence. However, people who don't believe in love are much less likely to want to talk about it. That is understandable. It is possible to talk about the existence of God in an abstract, academic manner. But one cannot talk about the existence of love in such a dispassionate way. It is a much more personal subject which exposes our sensitivities. Therefore telling such people that God loves them often results in a dismissal rather than a discussion they simply don't want to talk about it. They will often assume that the Christian is clearly naive and doesn't understand life and certainly doesn't understand them.
Before we consider how we might help such people, let's look at another type of person: someone who may also have had bad experiences, but who is trying to hold on to a hope for love. They may believe that love exists, but not that it ever lasts. Such people would not think of themselves as cynical about love in the manner of Schopenhauer, and would probably refer to themselves as 'realistic' about love. They hope for love, they expect love, they will probably enjoy stories about love, but they think that in the real world love always goes wrong.
Real about love?
This view of love has been illustrated recently in a run of films which each worked from a very similar formula: combining cynicism and fairy-tale fantasy.
How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days (Paramount, 2003) tells the story of a male advertising executive and a female magazine writer who are in conflict with each other because he is trying to win a bet that he can make any woman fall in love with him, and she is researching a story on how to make a man want to dump her. In the romantic climax, the conflict is resolved through them falling truly, madly, deeply in love with each other.
Down With Love (Twentieth Century Fox, 2003) tells the story of a female writer and a male journalist who are in conflict with each other because she is trying to show that women do not need romantic love and he wants to prove her wrong. In the romantic climax, the conflict is resolved through them falling truly, madly, deeply in love with each other.
Intolerable Cruelty (United International Pictures, 2003) tells the story of a female gold digging divorceι and a male divorce lawyer who are in conflict because they are trying to outwit each other by manipulating divorce settlements. In the romantic climax, the conflict is resolved through them falling truly, madly, deeply in love with each other.
These three films are essentially the same story with plot variations. Most of the film is spent showing how 'love' can be deceptive and manipulative. Then, in the last few scenes, the story changes to present a fairy tale ending in which the protagonists fall in love with each other. This makes great cinema. But, does anyone really believe that the characters will now live happily ever after? Or do we suspect that, actually, if the film were to run for another few minutes we would see that the so-called love would fall apart as it always does? And do we find ourselves thinking, 'I like to pretend that there would be a happy-ever-after, but I know there wouldn't be.'
Such a view was recently expressed very clearly and explicitly in the film Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (Momentum Pictures, 2004). In a jumbled mixture of flash-backs, this told the story of Joel (Jim Carrey) and Clementine (Kate Winslet) who had met and begun a relationship on a beach at a friend's barbecue. Both Joel and Clementine are unconventional, but in very different ways. Although they enjoy their life together, inevitably their personality differences mean that they clash and argue. One day, after a furious row, they separate. But then Joel decides that he wants to try to work things out, and so he goes to visit her at her workplace. He cannot believe her reaction she doesn't even recognise him. Joel discovers that she has undergone a revolutionary new treatment that has completely wiped him out of her memory. Incensed by this, Joel undergoes the same treatment.
The story so far will be familiar to many who have fallen in love and then experienced conflict and pain in the relationship. It is what happens next in the film that explores so well the real dilemma that many such people face. Joel and Clementine meet again, and begin to fall in love once more. But then they come across the audio tapes that they made before they had their memories erased. They hear what happened, how they got on each other's nerves, how they became angry with each other, how they separated. Now, the question arises, if they know that this will happen, will they put themselves through it all again? Is the shared joy of the relationship worth the inevitable pain that they know they will experience?
This is a dilemma faced by many people. The fact is that, in many people's experience, love is a powerful emotion that evokes great pleasure but also leads to great pain. This was expressed recently in the popular television series Desperate Housewives . This tells the story of a group of women who live in Wisteria Lane, in American suburbia. Our narrator is Mary Alice (Brenda Strong), who at the beginning of the first episode talks us through her own suicide. She introduces us to all the mourners at her funeral, and her female friends. The women are all housewives, and they are all desperate in their different ways. At the end of episode 14 ('Love is in the Air') she says, 'It's impossible to grasp just how powerful love is. It can sustain us through trying times, or motivate us to make extraordinary sacrifices. It can force decent men to commit the darkest deeds, or compel ordinary women to search for hidden truths. And long after we're gone, love remains burned into our memories. We all search for love but some of us, after we've found it, wish we hadn't.'
One of the reasons why Desperate Housewives has been such a success is that it seems to resonate with so many people (not just housewives) who view love in this way. Suppose we try to tell them the good news, 'God loves you'. How might they react to that? If they really do have the view of love I have just outlined, we will probably find that they may listen to us. But will they really hear what we are saying?
If they are willing to believe that there might be some kind of God (however they might understand him to be), they might be willing to believe that this God could love them. But what will they think that this love will mean? Probably not the eternally satisfying, fully committed, self-giving love that we see described in the Bible and demonstrated in Jesus because they don't believe that this kind of love exists.
Therefore, it is important that we help them to understand what love can be, what it can mean. In the same way, looking back to the other group of people (who are cynical about love), we must help them to understand that love can actually exist at all.
Biblical about love
Whoever we are talking to, we will always want to lead them into the Bible where they will discover what God says about love. En route to that, we might find it helpful to look at elements of a biblical perspective on love which have been illustrated in recent films. Let's look at two examples: Meet the Fockers and Love Actually .
Meet the Fockers (United International Pictures, 2005) is the sequel to Meet the Parents (United International Pictures, 2004). Greg and Pam, planning to get married, bring their parents together for a few days. There follows a huge culture clash as the relaxed, liberal, laissez-faire lifestyle of Greg's parents meets the uptight right-wing interventionist approach of Pam's.
Amongst all the humour, one thing that the film illustrates is the importance of life-long commitment. Indeed, the plot only works because these two couples are still together after all their years of marriage. There are tensions within the couples (which are echoed in the tensions between the couples), but they are committed to staying together for life. Whether we identify with Greg's parents or Pam's, we see an illustration of real love lasting through a lifetime commitment to each other.
Love Actually (Universal International Pictures, 2003), has been described as a celebration of love. It demonstrates the power of the love between man and woman, parent and child, brother and sister, and even just good friends. It demonstrates how love crosses the barriers of age, culture, language and social divide. And yet this film is set in gritty reality; it is not a fairy story. The characters sweat and swear, they laugh and cry, they experience temptation and suffer from unfaithfulness.
One thing that Love Actually illustrates is the importance of self-sacrifice. This is illustrated in many ways. We see an author (played by Colin Firth) learning a new language in order to communicate with the girl he met while abroad. We see a prime minister (played by Hugh Grant) going door to door in a dodgy part of London to find his girl. We see a successful rock star (played by Bill Nighy) giving up a celebrity party in order to be with his old and rather boring friend. We see an office worker (played by Laura Linney) give up the chance of a night of passion to be with her psychotic and desperately vulnerable brother. We see an artist (played by Andrew Lincoln) keep himself away from the woman he believes is perfectly beautiful, because she is married to his best friend. And so the stories of sacrificial love go on.
So, some recent films give us the opportunity to talk about the importance of commitment and sacrifice. Perhaps that then provides a way of taking us into talking about the Bible's message, particularly summed up by Paul as:
'Live a life filled with love for others, following the example of Christ, who loved you and gave himself as a sacrifice to take away your sins.' (Ephesians 5:2)
© Damaris Trust, 2005. All rights reserved. This sample chapter may not be reproduced in any format or medium.


