Ничего нового, но о этом постоянно лгут.
Your distant ancestors did not have a word for romantic love. They did not believe in a transcendent emotion felt between men and women that existed as a more pure form of sexual desire. The introduction of such an idea into our culture is completely foreign and likely results from a mistranslation of the Greek EROS, which means lust, and a misinterpretation of Plato. Unfortunately the idea took root as a method of expressing eros in a Church-friendly way. “I’m not like those barbarians who just want to fuck you! I just want to write you poetry and bask in your beauty!” Ugh. Malory skewered this almost as soon as it was introduced. Your wiser predecessors knew better. The Victorians, to their eternal shame, brought the idea back.
“Bringing romantic love back to marriage” makes about as much sense as bringing buggery back to marriage. It’s not supposed to be a prerequisite whatsoever. What we call romantic love today is actually a juncture between eros and loyalty. Loyalty is a judgement our genes make as to which woman is a worthy investment of time and risk. This plus eros pair-bonds a man to a woman; if we did not feel loyalty we would be like rabbits, see women as walking sperm toilets and not bother to devote our resources to ensuring that she carries to term and that the child is raised to maximize its status and odds of survival. This protecc instinct is what makes you feel all fuzzy inside when you think of your woman. And this, plus eros, is all you need to feel for your woman to make a marriage work.
The likelihood of pair bonding wanes as sexual options wax. We’re designed to bond the strongest to our first partner because for most of human history, there were few potential partners available. Enduring relationships are only assured by first partnership. That happens around the age of sixteen, when you’re a dumb fucking kid who is going to make some dumb fucking choices. Is it any surprise that parents and the community stepped in to make these choices on the behalf of their children? That’s the only rational way around it. The fact is, most arranged marriages are very happy. As a man, you remember being 16 years old. Think how fucking horny you felt around women, hell, just the intensity of your affection was greater- and this in a desensitized age of porn and high school girls in miniskirts. Now imagine being sixteen in 1300. You mostly saw girls at a distance, they were covered up, maybe you would share a word or two and relish your young lust. And then your wedding! Holy shit! You, as a modern, have no idea how intense the first sight and touch of a girl was back then, and how powerfully it would bond you to her.
The other side of the coin is, it’s exactly the same for women. Modern women are similarly desensitized. From the age of 14 they are constantly receiving open and tacit advances from men, both their own ages and older. Women are attracted primarily to male power and charisma (which is latent status). Today, they are constantly bombarded by male displays of status and charisma, but in 1300, provided they were not nobility of the court, they were not. That first touch from a husband, his first dominant word, her first bath in the intensity of his lust; again, a modern woman simply can’t imagine it.
Don’t believe me? I’ve had the opportunity to observe Amish girls ‘in the wild’. They are completely unpretentious and unjaded, their interactions with men modest and cheerful. And they look forward to their marriages with giggling anticipation. The eldest one, who was engaged, was the envy and admiration of her younger friends. She, herself, was relieved that she managed to find a husband. She was getting old after all; almost twenty. If I had known then what I do now, I would have converted immediately. You really have no idea how happy women are under the patriarchy until you’ve met Amish girls. And they work hard. Really hard. Does it crush their femininity? Not a chance. The Victorians were retards. A farm girl singing a song while she prances ankle deep through horse manure with her dress hiked a few inches up manages to be more feminine than a thousand of our dolled up sluts put together. What a fucking joke. Yeah, they don’t shave their legs and they smell like the farm. If you’ve fucked five dozen women it will put you off. If she’s your first and you’ve been working all day alongside her, you won’t even notice.
