Love vs. love

Not far from the expansive Danube River sits another European behemoth--the Ulm Münster, an architectural Goliath, the gigantes of gothic cathedrals. Its 161m steeple is the tallest of any cathedral known to man, which allows it to survey Baden-Württemberg's Ulm, the birthplace of Einstein, Bavaria’s Neu-Ulm, and the Alps. Such height would seem to suggest omniscience, at least unlimited knowledge of the happenings in Southwestern Germany. But perhaps on November 10, 1619 the pure German gothic church, not even its distraught-faced chimeras, had any surveillance inside a small, stove-heated room in an Ulm roadside inn where Rene Descartes was inventing modern philosophy, an invention no longer interested in Ancient Greek wisdom but in humanity’s mastery over nature.

At first glance, it may seem strange to begin a piece on love with Descartes’ invention. But if one understands the perniciousness of “love” with a lowercase “l,” one will understand the poignancy and relevance of the introduction. “love” attempts to conquer nature, which is a foolish act since we are intricately a part of nature whether we like it or not. A plethora of examples illustrate this. First, by being in “love” with our material bodies, we attempt to perfect medicine or cryogenically freeze ourselves, so we can live forever. Descartes believed that the improvements of medical science in his time would allow him to live to 200—he died at 50. Secondly, with “love” we grow attached to physical beauty, thinking it not liable to destruction. Even more pernicious, humans consistently try to employ a general, universal “love “ to a world we don’t fully understand to find harmony in nature. It's difficult to apply this since the universe is a positively charged void, where particular things appear when the void's balance is disturbed. As a result, creation is cosmic imbalance. Moreover, we are composed of atoms that are 99.9999% empty space. How can we counteract this unintelligibility with “love”? I think this is the love Žižek is referring to when he describes it as “evil” and a “violent act.” In the end, humans cannot master nature with “love” or anything else for that matter.

“love" failed in its vain attempt to conquer nature, but will “Love” be any different? “Love” with a capital “L,” the essence of “Love,” can be expressed in a variety of different languages: Amour, Liebe, Agape, حب: . No matter what language, "Love" stays true to its encompassing definition. It's virtuous, benevolent, compassionate, merciful, and pure; it’s an Aristotelian telos; it’s a universal Love towards all sentient beings not expecting reciprocation. It’s altruistic and fearless. It’s wise and enlightened, following the beauty of a forceful Socratic quote “The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.” The utility of “Love” is especially important. In this chaotic and unintelligible universe, one needs, through intrapersonal “Love,” the Other to ground one's being to alleviate existential anguish. If successful, two free, Sartrean consciousnesses will ground the other’s being in order to form one consciousness. Through “Love” they seek the totality of being that is ontologically denied to them at birth. Through “Love” the Other will objectify one’s subjective world. This process gives the two purpose in an "existence preceding essence" universe. This purpose gives them ontological significance. Once this process is completed, both will realize that “Love” must not try to conquer nature, for “Love” is acceptance. In the end, one must accept that “Love” is subject to fail or that “Love” could just be a mammalian drive, a releasing of testosterone and estrogen, pheromones, dopamine, norepinephrine, and serotonin—and nothing more.

Isabella and Lorenzo’s relationship in “The Pot of Basil” is contradictory, for they exhibit both “love” and “Love.” Simply stated, Isabella cannot live without Lorenzo. She physically cannot exist without Lorenzo or some representation of him. At the beginning, when Lorenzo hasn’t confessed his “Love” to her, she becomes ill. When Lorenzo leaves and is murdered, she becomes ill. And when her brothers take the basil from her, which is a regeneration of Lorenzo, she dies. In the text, to show her “Love,” she exhumes his head from underground, places it in a pot of basil, and cries inside the pot to continue the cycle of regeneration. He is transmogrified into the basil. Since she is trying to conquer nature, this is an example of “love” with a lowercase “l.” However, when her brothers take this beautiful piece of creation away from her, her death does not suggest a clichéd romance where lovers cannot live without each other. Rather, she is denied an ontological purpose. If she can’t have Lorenzo, she can’t have an ontological purpose. In this case, Isabella expresses the ontological purpose needed to reach the totality of “Love.” Without a purpose, “Love” becomes an insurmountable idea. But this becomes irrelevant since everything is slowly but surely moving towards decay. From this, we understand the beauty of romance, the beauty of an enduring romance that last beyond the boundaries of the material world. The natural world grounds this vision for us. When she finds his decrepit head and kisses it, she is neither hesitant nor disgusted, acting as the anti-thesis of Thel. The text produces a grotesque affect to show “Love” is not just about clichéd everlasting love, chivalry, or questing. Rather, it’s about decay, a seedy underbelly. This is “Love” as acceptance and truth. The poem unhesitatingly accepts that death and decay are a part of an intra-personal relationship's journey, for they need the matter of decay to reach the immateriality of "Love." Our imagination is born out of this decay and corruption, too. “Fair reader, at the Old Tale take a glance/For here, in truth/to speak:--O turn thee to the very tale/And taste the music of that vision pale.”