Everyone admits that love is wonderful and necessary, yet no one can agree on what it is.Įven the very etymology of love shies away from explaining how, when, and why we imbued love with such immense significance: When art separates this thick tangle of feelings, love bares its bones. Art is the prism that sets them free, then follows the gyrations of one or a few. It includes many feelings which, out of laziness and confusion, we crowd into one simple word.
Sitting still, we are as daring as gladiators. Hoping for victory, limping from the latest skirmish, lovers enter the arena once again. But what dream state is love? Frantic and serene, vigilant and calm, wrung-out and fortified, explosive and sedate - love commands a vast army of moods. In daydreams, we can maneuver with poise, foiling an opponent, scoring high on fields of glory while crowds cheer, cutting fast to the heart of an adventure. Hate stalks the streets with dripping fangs, fear flies down narrow alleyways on leather wings, and jealousy spins sticky webs across the sky. In our nightmares, we can create beasts out of pure emotion.
Ackerman begins with a meditation on love’s many faces, inescapable power, and ineffable nature: Written nearly two decades ago, A Natural History Of Love ( public library) by prolific science historian Diane Ackerman, Carl Sagan’s favorite cosmic poet, endures as one of the most dimensional explorations of humanity’s highest emotion. And yet the heart’s supreme potential remains ever-elusive. Love has been hacked, illustrated, coached, and reimagined.
But what, exactly, is love? Literary history has given us a wealth of beautiful definitions, mathematicians have calculated its odds, and psychologists have dissected its mechanisms. But that’s okay, love is better,” a wise woman wrote. “You can never know anyone as completely as you want.
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