Or in contemporary terms, Romance you sexy beast, why are you throwing shade at me?
I have always bristled at being called a hopeless romantic. Why can’t it be hopeful romantic? It somehow puts us in the category of those who think unicorns are real, Jim Morrison is sitting on a beach in Bali, or the clip-your-nose-while-you-eat diet really works.
After all, my clawfoot bathtub is hot pink, my favorite wine is Chateau de Berne’s rosé Romance, a silky nectar of peach and strawberry, I am addicted to Jo Malone red roses candles (enough flames to catch the attention of the Otter Hose Company), I will literally rub my body all over a night blooming jasmine, I dance under full moons, and I believe contrary to much of my experience that true love must be around the corner. Now I just need romance to cooperate.
I was contemplating this when my sister was cleaning out my mother’s house and came across of number of books and returned some to me. I asked her, “How did you know these were mine?” She then produced: “The Art of Courtly Love,” “The Sixteen Pleasures,” “Feng Shui For Love and Romance,” “A Scholar’s Glossary of Sex,” “The English Gentleman’s Mistress,” “A Guide to Elegance” and “The Bunny Book: How to Walk, Talk, Tease, and Please like a Playboy Bunny” (which in fairness was one I received as a journalist for a book review but also has some very good tips.) Fair enough.
The definition of romance in Oxford’s Dictionary is: a quality of feeling mystery, excitement and a remoteness from everyday life. I believe the key to romance is embedded in this definition.
Romance isn’t ordinary or stationary or in your face. Romance sashays easily from purity to danger to staying within societal norms to stepping outside in the cover of consensual darkness without judgement. It thrives on dreams and fantasies and whispers in the wind.
Romance is not about instant gratification — It’s not the microwave popcorn of love.
Romance is your personal secret. According to the Art of Courtly Love, “When made public love rarely endures.” In the time of knights it was advised not to sign a love letter or seal it with your personal stamp. Take the cue and maybe don’t rush to put pictures of your date on Instagram or alert the world by changing your Facebook Status. Hold something back, hinted at only by the gleam in your eye.
The key to romance is leaving something to the imagination. In “A Guide to Elegance” the author advises “Don’t believe that in order to be elegant you must dress with austerity like the saintly ladies of the Salvation Army. Dresses that mold the figure, when they merely suggest the forms they cover rather than expose them, can cause every head to turn in admiration.”
Even the Playboy Bunnies who have some seriously good “hands on” advice advocate for romance, “Whether you’ve been with a guy for five weeks or five years you should be flirting like you’ve still got butterflies.”
You also need to think about what messages you are putting out into the universe. Feng Shui For Love & Romance points out, “If you live alone, you should ensure you use all the different seats in the living room and dining room. If you habitually use just one chair you are subconsciously sending out messages you do not want the other seats to be occupied.”
If we want romance back, can we take a moment to be more remote from everyday life, to embrace the mystery and subtlety and create a hopeful, not hopeless space in our own minds for what could be.
Because as the “Art of Courtly Love” says, “No one should be deprived of love without the very best of reasons.”
