Romance Visited

I am not a very romantic person. Remember that Sex and the City episode when Carrie is dating the Russian and he reads poetry to her by the fire and she wonders why she is so jaded about romance? Well, I can totally relate. For years, I devoured romance novels with gusto. I will drop everything to watch romantic period pieces. I enjoy a well-done romantic comedy. Yet, when it comes to romantic moments in my own life, I tend to avoid them. I giggle nervously or crack a joke or change the subject.

Last night, avoidance was not an option.

For our first Valentine's Day as a married couple, Arthur surprised me the night before V-Day at the monthly stand-up show he produces at Occhi's lounge in the basement of Comix. As I usually do at these events, I plopped myself down, along side a few friends and thought it would just another night of guffaws. As Arthur was hosting the event, he got up on stage several times.


Then he began talking about Valentine's Day and how he was thinking about what to do for me that would be special. When he said, "and then I realized I have a stage and a microphone and an Irish guy with a guitar," followed by said Irish guy getting his guitar and starting to strum, I realized that this would indeed be special. Arthur didn't sing to me. What he did do was pour out his emotions for three minute. My face flush, my body sweating and my heart beating quickly, I listened from outside my comfort zone as he spouted his love, his wonder, his gratitude and ocassionally his jokes. Speckled with humor, he painted a canvas of his love for me in front of friends, colleagues and strangers. It was beautiful. It was nothing I had ever experienced before and certainly the most romantic guesture I had ever witnessed.

Valentine's Day - the day, as my beloved husband reminded us last evening, that began in carnage - has always seemed a superfulous day for me. And when I was not with anyone, Valentine's day seemed either a terrible reminder of what was not in my life at the moment or an excuse to go out to dinner with friends and drink a lot of wine. I still dislike the Hallmark/make single people feel lesser/pressure to do something grand/made up holiday in theory.

However, last night I was the proud, mesmerized receipient of more romance than anyone probably has the right to. That critical, overly analytical part of me stepped aside and welcomed my Valentine.

Feminist Thoughts On Marriage Norms

They are not my thoughts, but thought I would share. Check out this blog entry posted on Feministing.com called Marriage Norms for the Twenty-First Century.

I would add busting up the wedding industry that is allowed to bleed brides and grooms dry all to create that "perfect" day that can, I imagine, never quite live up to expectations. Furthermore, we need to counter the discourses that proclaim the "wedding day" as the most important day in a hetero girl/woman's life, while the hetero boy/man simply shows up because he has more important things to do/worry about.

A 19th Century Feminist Marriage

I've been trudging through Howard Zinn's A People's History of the United States. On my way to work this morning, I read a particularly striking passage about Lucy Stone, a 19th Century American woman who refused to accept anything less than what she felt acceptable. She lectured on women's rights and anti-slavery. She was often attacked for her political views. Nevertheless, and perhaps not without a bit of surprise, she married - a man whose ideology was akin to her own.

Zinn provided part of the "Marriage Protest." I found what I assume is the rest of it at about.com:

The following was signed by Lucy Stone and Henry Blackwell prior to their May 1, 1855 marriage. The Rev. Thomas Wentworth Higginson, who performed the marriage, not only read the statement at the ceremony, but also distributed it to other ministers as a model that he urged other couples to follow.

While acknowledging our mutual affection by publicly assuming the relationship of husband and wife, yet in justice to ourselves and a great principle, we deem it a duty to declare that this act on our part implies no sanction of, nor promise of voluntary obedience to such of the present laws of marriage, as refuse to recognize the wife as an independent, rational being, while they confer upon the husband an injurious and unnatural superiority, investing him with legal powers which no honorable man would exercise, and which no man should possess. We protest especially against the laws which give to the husband:

1. The custody of the wife's person.

2. The exclusive control and guardianship of their children.

3. The sole ownership of her personal, and use of her real estate, unless previously settled upon her, or placed in the hands of trustees, as in the case of minors, lunatics, and idiots.

4. The absolute right to the product of her industry.

5. Also against laws which give to the widower so much larger and more permanent interest in the property of his deceased wife, than they give to the widow in that of the deceased husband.

6. Finally, against the whole system by which "the legal existence of the wife is suspended during marriage," so that in most States, she neither has a legal part in the choice of her residence, nor can she make a will, nor sue or be sued in her own name, nor inherit property.

We believe that personal independence and equal human rights can never be forfeited, except for crime; that marriage should be an equal and permanent partnership, and so recognized by law; that until it is so recognized, married partners should provide against the radical injustice of present laws, by every means in their power...

Amazing, isn't? I find those spaces where the "oppressed" find their voice simply fascinating. Surrounded by like minded people, she did things as her conscience dictated. She even kept her name. There is now a group devoted to that choice, called the Lucy Stone League.

Over one hundred and fifty years later, I still have to explain myself when I tell people that I am not changing my name. I wonder what Lucy Stone would say about that.