2/22/24
I wish I could say we’re done with definitions and categories at this point, but I feel it’s necessary to bring one more into the discussion before we get too deeply into Stendhal’s descriptions of deep feeling.
It’s important to remember that the early 19th century is one dominated by Romanticism, which isn’t just a belief in amorous ecstasy, but also the power of individuals to do heroic acts and to shape history as a result. Both forms of Romanticism are prevalent in Stendhal’s novels, and they are a natural outgrowth of the changing social and political cultures of the time. Capitalism and democracy naturally lend themselves to Romanticism.
But it’s also important to point out that many odd beliefs were still quite powerful in that time. For example, the disease tuberculosis was then called consumption, and it was commonly associated with personal beauty and an artistic sensibility. So the disease was romanticized — women who had it were considered unusually beautiful, men who had it were taken more seriously as artists.
Given that, it’s tempting to assume we know better today and if modern psychologists want to place a new label on lovesickness, such as Dorothy Tennov did in the late 1970s by coining the term limerence, we’re inclined to accept the new frame.
Tennov conducted a large number of interviews before writing her book ”Love and Limerence” and describing this phenomenon as:
Limerence is, above all else, mental activity. It is an interpretation of events, rather than the events themselves. You admire, you are physically attracted, you see, or think you see (or deem it possible to see under “suitable” conditions), the hint of possible reciprocity, and the process is set in motion.
Tennov says limerence is the state of being in love, but there’s a bit more to it than that and she goes on to describe 12 specific components of it, including intrusive thinking, acute longing for reciprocating, dependency of mood on the actions of the limerent object (called LO throughout her work), and perhaps most importantly, and intensification of feeling brought on by adversity.
If this sounds a lot like what Stendhal was referring to in the last chapter, that’s not an accident or coincidence. Tennov dedicated “Love and Limerence” to Stendhal, and he’s cited a whopping 42 times in the text. It’s no stretch to say that “De l’Amour” is the inspiration for Tennov’s theory.
While Tennov’s limerence drew some skepticism at first, research conducted over the past 45 years have backed up her (and Stendhal’s) original thoughts. In a revised text in 1999, Tennov summarizes the research after her book’s release this way:
...limerence occurs across sexual, racial, age, cultural, and other categories. It also follows immutable rules: It endures as long as do the conditions that sustain both hope and uncertainty; it is unique in … set of stages. And limerence is sexual because the limerent object is always desired as a sex partner; despite this, the limerent wish to obtain emotional commitment is greater than that of physical union.
With this new research has come new supporters of the theory. Today, limerence discussions are everywhere on the Internet. YouTube influencers have built entire identities around explaining the phenomenon. Mental health professionals have built practices around helping people cope and recover from limerence. And, not surprisingly, communities have formed among limerents.
And here’s where I see a problem with the term – it has merged with our contemporary culture’s obsession with identity categories. So you can go onto Reddit and find a group of limerents and read an endless number of painful stories about their struggles. Except increasingly, these stories involve limerent objects they’ve never even interacted with — they are becoming infatuated with people they barely know or see and consider themselves in limerence.
Their stories also often have a heavy stalking element to them. And perhaps worst of all, none of these stories acknowledge the fact that Tennov did not see limerence as some kind of pathology and that, in fact, it was often experienced on both sides in the early phases of what turned out to be, over time, completely healthy human relationships.
Today, everything seems to get over extrapolated. People become attached to their Myers-Briggs category, to one of the dozens LGBTQA+ classifications (in opposition to queer theory, that posits that all sexuality is fluid) and even Harry Potter houses.
Carl Jung would look at what’s happening today and be astounded how new archetypes are being created constantly. But he’d probably also despair at how attached everyone is becoming to their archetypes — something he warned against in his day.
But before I go too far afield, let me return the discussion to Stendhal.
As I said before, Tennov’s research has found that limerence is not discouraged by adversity, it’s strengthened by it. Stendhal says of this:
It only needs a very small quantity of hope to beget love. Even when hope gives way to despair after a day or two, love will persist.
And here Stendhal borrows some of that description of the consumption-prone male to describe who is most susceptible to love/limerence:
If the lover has suffered; if he is sensitive and thoughtful; if he turns from other women in keen admiration of the lady in question, no ordinary pleasure will lure him away from the second crystallization. He will prefer to dream of the slenderest chance of pleasing her, rather than to receive all the favours of any ordinary woman.
This statement hits hard for me, because I know it well. As I stated in the introduction, I’ve dealt with two recent bouts of this love/limerence. With my most recent one still working through the final stages, I also have no desire to receive the favors of any ordinary woman. Limerence puts you in touch with invented goddesses, and makes it hard to then desire mere mortals.
And it sometimes last so long because it takes so little to sustain it. As Stendhal beautiful describes:
An impromptu remark gives me dreams enough to last a whole night through. I see a sensitive, generous, burning spirit — romantic as it is commonly called — who sets abover the happiness of kings the simple pleasure of walking alone her her lover at midnight in a secluded wood.