For the love of Venus
Marriage is a very old institution. Even in Durban, it is old. In this tribute to women, Catherine and Michael Greenham show how a man has to feel needed but a woman needs to feel cherished as well
“ALMUSTAFA, the chosen and the beloved, who was a dawn unto his own day, had waited twelve years in the city of Orphalese for his ship that was to return and bear him back to the isle of his birth… He climbed the hill without the city walls and looked seaward; and he beheld his ship coming with the mist. But as he descended the hill, a sadness came upon him…
“And he and the people proceeded towards the great square before the temple. And there came out of the sanctuary a woman whose name was Almitra. And she hailed him, saying: ‘Prophet of God, in quest of the uttermost, long have you searched the distances for your ship. Yet this we ask ere you leave us, that you speak to us and give us of your truth…’
“Then Almitra spoke again and said, ‘and what of Marriage master’?”
These are extracts from Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet. It turned out the people of Orphalese needed as much help understanding marriage as we do today.
Living in Durban in the 21st century is like living in any other century as far as our understanding of marriage is concerned.
And weddings in Durban date back a long way. One of the earliest was recorded by Eliza Feilden in her book,
My African Home: December 28, 1852 – “The bride was a good-looking girl of 17, dressed in white muslin, as were most of the ladies. The bridegroom, a powerful, dark man, double her age, who has been long in the Colony, and has received a grant of land from government in acknowledgement of a special service he rendered once by riding over the coast to give information of an outbreak.
“The wedding breakfast, which was ample, was held under an awning in the garden. The only carriage in the place was hired for the day, and after taking the bridal party to and from church, was sent round the town to bring the guests. It was a light, covered van, and the white curtains on this occasion were tied with pink ribbon. I suppose the van had springs; if not, it certainly had the power of conveying them to its occupants, for every jolt sent one almost right across to the other side.”
Feilden was not impressed with the “carriage”, nor was she swept away by any romantic notions about weddings, even though she was still a newly-wed herself, but the identity of the “dark and powerful” bridegroom is easy to ascertain – Dick King, the man who, along with Ndongeni, made the historic ride to Grahamstown for British reinforcements.
For the record, he was 39 at the time of his wedding, more than double the bride’s age. She was Clara Jane Noon who had arrived in Durban on the immigrant ship John Line, on May 3, 1851.
Since its earliest days, Durban has witnessed countless marriages in its various churches, temples, places of worship and in its courts. Most of these weddings were between ordinary people, some rich, some poor, but very rarely there would be something out of the ordinary, like on November 5, 1940 when Durban celebrated the marriage of the 57-year-old divorcé, Sir Delves Broughton (11th Baronet) and the 27-year-old Diana Caldwell, prior to their departure for Kenya.
Early the following year Durban socialites were horrified to learn of the arrest of Sir Delves for the murder of the Earl of Erroll, who had a romantic dalliance with Lady Diana. At the trial he was found not guilty but he committed suicide not long afterwards. This incident subsequently formed the basis for the 1988 film, White Mischief.
On the face of it, marriage is so very simple. A man and a woman meet and they fall in love, entranced by this “many-splendoured thing” as Nat King Cole describes it: “In the morning mist, two lovers kissed and the world stood still.” They marry, raise a family, love each other and slowly grow old and die. This has been the plan for millennia.
But it is the differences between the male and the female of the species that creates the complications.
We could be forgiven for believing that men come from Mars and women from Venus with all the resultant misunderstandings that emanate from their union.
Just a few years ago, John Legend wrote All of Me. It is possibly the most beautiful love song written this century. All of me may very well love all of you but, as he says, “love your curves and all your edges, love your perfect imperfections”. Like so many romantic songs, it reflects the contradictions in our understanding of love.
In John Lennon’s song, Woman, he speaks to his new wife, Yoko Ono, saying “I know you understand the little child inside the man”. It is only a woman who can look inside a man and see his vulnerability beneath his bravado, the great explorer and the insecure homebody, his joy and his pain along with the tears he tries so hard to hide.
When John Gray wrote Men Are from Mars, Women Are From Venus in 1992, he attempted to explain why Mars and Venus have such problems understanding each other. Gray believes that although a man still needs to receive love, his greatest need is to give love. “When a man doesn’t feel he is making a positive difference in someone else’s life, it is hard for him to continue caring about his life and relationships… Not to be needed is a slow death for a man.
“Most men have little awareness of how important it is to a woman to feel supported by someone who cares. Women are happy when they believe their needs will be met. When a woman is upset, overwhelmed, confused, exhausted, or without hope, what she needs most is simple companionship. She needs to feel she is not alone. She needs to feel loved and cherished.”
When a man is faced with a big problem he withdraws to his “cave” and does his best to address it. It is not a good time for a woman to approach him. When a woman is upset, out of respect the man will leave her alone. This is a mistake.
It is also a mistake to try to solve her problem because she doesn’t want a solution; she just wants someone to listen to her. Gray continues: “Through sharing her feelings she begins to remember that she is worthy of love and that her needs will be fulfilled.”
Sooner or later, sex has to feature in the equation. Here, Doctors Pascale and Primavera provide some insight in their article “Mars Married to Venus”.
“Men live in a more sexual world, and sex is one way they express their masculinity and feel validated…
Emotional closeness is an end-product of sex, that is, they feel close to their wives after the act, regardless of how they felt beforehand.
“Unfortunately, many wives see things the other way around. For many women, feeling emotionally connected is an essential prerequisite for intimacy. Sex is something that flows from and is a result of their emotional connection. They have to feel close to their husbands before sex is a good idea.”
So, what has changed since the marriage of Dick King and Clara Noon, since Victorian times? Very little: habits, rights and laws perhaps, but not the heart of the matter, the need to love and be loved.
“Then Almitra spoke again and said, ‘and what of marriage master?’ And Almustafa answered saying: ‘Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone, even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music… And stand together yet not too near: For the pillars of the temple stand apart, and the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other’s shadow.’”
Try as we might, following this advice is difficult. The temples may still stand guardian over the memories of that sacred love so evident at a wedding. But sometimes it is wasted and scattered instead over Durban’s divorce courts, which remain busy.
The love between Mars and Venus is conditional. Venus reserves unconditional love only for her children and Mars and Venus too often quiver with anger while in the background two completely different songs are playing. The pillars of the temple too often stand suffocatingly close or so far apart they are disconnected.
But for all of these risks of commitment and emotional attachment, the romantics will never give up. After all, it is Venus herself who eclipses Mars’s love for his mother as well as his admiration for his father. There is something there that is far too precious to abandon and Mars knows it.
In the words of Charles Aznavour: “Me, I’ll take her laughter and her tears and make them all my souvenirs and where she goes I’ve got to be, the meaning of my life is She.”
Catherine Greenham is a teacher and published author of the novel
Rebellion. Michael Greenham is a chartered accountant and lecturer. They have a great interest in history and a large collection of books on history and literature, as well as old Durban postcards they use to illustrate articles.