‘The real soul-mate is the one you are actually married to’ – Tolkien on love

The Catholic English Teacher is one of my favourite blogs. Written by Roy Peachey, it not only discusses Catholic writing, but provides a thoughtful and deeply orthodox Catholic perspective on literature and literary history. I often turn to it when I’m finding it difficult to reconcile my shaky, newly-rediscovered faith with my interest in literature and culture.

Among the unexpected gems I discovered recently at Roy’s blog were these reflections by J.R.R.Tolkien on love and marriage. In a week when yet another person we know has left their (second) marriage to be with another partner, the author’s words offer a profoundly sane and deeply Catholic vision of lifelong commitment that will strike a chord with those who have been married for a while, however much they love their partners:

When the glamour wears off, or merely works a bit thin, they think they have made a mistake, and that the real soul-mate is still to find. The real soul-mate too often proves to be the next sexually attractive person that comes along. Someone whom they might indeed very profitably have married, if only -. Hence divorce, to provide the ‘if only’. And of course they are as a rule quite right: they did make a mistake. Only a very wise man at the end of his life could make a sound judgement concerning whom, amongst the total possible chances, he ought most profitably to have married! Nearly all marriages, even happy ones, are mistakes: in the sense that almost certainly (in a more perfect world, or even with a little more care in this very imperfect one) both partners might have found more suitable mates. But the ‘real soul-mate’ is the one you are actually married to.

‘Here we are, fallen into the ditch’

I rather like this:

Of gentleness towards ourselves…

One of the good uses we should make of gentleness, is that whereof the subject is in ourselves, never fretting at ourselves or at our imperfections; for though reason requires, that when we commit faults we should be displeased and sorry for them, yet we must restrain ourselves from having a displeasure which is bitter and sullen, fretful and angry. Wherein many commit a great fault, who, when they have given way to anger, are annoyed at having been annoyed, are vexed at having been vexed, and at having fretted; for by this means they keep their hearts preserved and steeped in anger: and although the second anger may seem to destroy the first, yet it serves as an opening and passage for a new anger on the first occasion which presents itself; and, moreover, these fits of anger, fretfulness and irritation, which we have against ourselves, tend to pride and have no other source than self-love, which is troubled and disquieted at seeing ourselves imperfect.

(…)

For myself, if for example I had a great desire not to fall into the sin of vanity, and if, notwithstanding, I had fallen deeply into it, I would not seek to reprove my heart in this manner: ‘Art thou not miserable and abominable, that after so many resolutions thou hast suffered thyself to be carried away by vanity? Die of shame, raise no more thy eyes to heaven, blind, shameless that thou art, traitor and disloyal to thy God!’ and such-like things; but I would rather reprove it in a reasonable and compassionate manner: ‘Well! my poor heart, here we are, fallen into the ditch which we had made so firm a resolution to avoid; ah! let us arise and leave it for ever; let us implore the mercy of God and trust that it will help us to be more steadfast in the future, and let us place ourselves again on the path of humility; courage! henceforth let us be more on our guard, God will help us, we shall do well enough.’

St Francis de Sales, Introduction to the Devout Life, translated by Allan Ross