In 1992 I reviewed The Republic of Love , a novel by Carol Shields. I raved about it, all genuine and all deserved. That love is not taken seriously. It's not respected. It's the one thing in the world everyone wants to pretend that love is trifling and foolish.
Work is important.
Living arrangements are important. Wars and good sex and race relations and the environment are important and so are health and illness. Even minor shifts of faith or political intention are given weight that is not accorded to love. We turn our heads and pretend it's not there, the thunderous passions that enter a life and alter its course. Just a love story,' people say about a book they happen to be reading, to be caught reading.