Romance in an age of cynicism

Reasons and arguments are great; they are the currency of academic discourse with which intellectual debate should — indeed must — take place. It is indeed a denial of our humanness to allow desires to overwhelm reason, but I submit that it is equally unnatural to deny oneself the fullest experience of human emotions just because they are unreasonable and sub-rational. Feelings and emotions, properly understood, are an exciting and integral part of our lives — of our humanity — and ought to be embraced as such.

With that philosophical point established, let’s move to the substance of this column, which begins with a bit of a confession: I’m a romantic. “Casablanca” is one of my favorite movies. I almost cried (emphasis on “almost,” for all you manly men out there) when Jim first kissed Pam at the end of the second season of “The Office,” then again when he asked her on a date and then again when he proposed. Eric Clapton’s “Wonderful Tonight” was playing when I started this column, for crying out loud.

Now that that’s off my chest, an important question emerges: Is there a place for someone like me in this culture, in this generation, in this university?

In the social and intellectual climate of an Ivy League university, the romantic — particularly the male romantic — finds himself between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, rational intellectuals tell him that his aspirations are both philosophically unreasonable and realistically unlikely to be fulfilled. A psychologist might jump in to announce that the romantic is setting himself up for disappointment. On the other side, he is bombarded by a campus and popular culture which portray and perceive romanticism merely as a means to a pleasurable end, as a savvy tactic to get one on the express lane to the bedroom. This culture extols sexuality above all else, especially those romantic ideals deemed quaint and old-fashioned.

These combine to form a powerful disincentive to pursuing a romantic vision of collegiate relationships. These idealistic wishes are said to be irrational and unrealistic to begin with, but this is only exacerbated by the popular perception that this generation has moved beyond such outdated ridiculousness. It takes two to tango, but when the only socially acceptable form of dance is, as my high school principle famously described it, “sex with clothes on,” then what is the lonely tango aficionado to do?

The culture, however, is not as monolithic as one might imagine. We can look to Marissa Lee ’11’s excellent article, “Tigers on the Prowl,” from last week for some guidance. By and large, the article does little to assuage the concerns of the romantic, particularly with such descriptions of student opinion as the hypothesis that “there are enough opportunities for male students to hook up that they feel no need to ask female students out on dates.” The assumption that is betrayed is, sadly, that men only desire women to satisfy a sexual desire rather than for companionship or emotional support. We no longer seem troubled, just as Brendan Carroll ’11 said in his column on Thursday about seeing our peers as means rather than ends.

One of the most interesting, and perhaps overlooked, aspects of Lee’s article, however, can be found in its last section. Here, she describes the perception that as Princeton students mature, both men and women begin to reject the hollowness of hookups and to desire a true relationship. If this perception holds true, it might be prudent to describe the culture of casual sex as one of youthful exuberance that is eventually replaced by a more mature understanding of relationships, of romance. Despite the dominance of the hookup culture, it is clear that many are quietly rejecting it and others are actively fostering a counterculture.

Most importantly, though, no matter how inhospitable the environment might seem, romance will always exist and will always be possible. And even if one’s optimism is waning, it’s important to remember that allowing oneself to discover and feel the full emotional gamut of romance — from the paralyzing nervousness of those first few words to the rapturous excitement of a relationship and even the haunting gloom of disappointment — whether personally or vicariously through a friend or even a character, is an experience of unparalleled humanness. But maybe that’s just the romantic in me.