Twist ending
May. 15th, 2013 02:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rinueOn the recommendation of a psychologist acquaintance I like, Ciro and I picked up a copy of The Seven Principles for Making Marriage Work, by John Gottman and Nan Silver, not because we're particularly having marital problems but because we've been very interested in the findings coming out of Gottman's "Love Lab" in Seattle, which is close to the only place that has done rigorous observational research on what marriage looks like. Media reports about the research tend to focus on Gottman's ability to predict with extreme accuracy whether a couple is going to divorce within six years after only observing them for about three minutes, because this is sexy reporting and seems magical, but Gottman himself is more interested in what causes people to not divorce, and in fact has a very optimistic view of people's general ability to hold together.
The book is not perfect; it kind of opens with scare stories, but I forgive the authors because that's what people are always asking them about and it's reasonable that they'd want to get it out of the way. And there tends to be a bit more "men are like this and women are like this" than I like, although always with the caveat that "we're not saying all men and women or that this is inherent rather than socialized; we're just saying that 80% of couples we've seen are influenced by patriarchal modes of behavior." I'm paraphrasing. Although for real principle four is essentially "get feminist immediately or you are doomed to unhappiness forever." They call it "Let Your Partner Influence You" to make it seem more approachable and equitable, but if you read the chapter, it's pretty obvious my fake title is more representative.
In any case, what the whole thing boils down to is: You're going to fight, and it's fine. Just be good best friends the rest of the time. Here are some exercises and games you can play to keep your friendship solid. And pretty much these exercises also work and would be fun to do with your friends you're not married to, with slight modifications. (And indeed Gottman has another book that does these modifications for you, The Relationship Cure, written with Joan DeClaire.)
Oddly enough, the book has me thinking about Inception again. (Rewatching Brick was a second contributing factor.) Given how well the movie has held up for me over repeated viewings and several years, I have to entertain the possibility that it's one of my favorite movies. (This is one of the questions in the book: What is your partner's favorite movie? Which is a trick question if it's me or Ciro, because good god how could either of us be expected to choose a favorite movie? As my friend Birgitta (also a filmmaker) would answer, "It's Sophie's Choice!")
A large part of the reason I like Inception so much is not very science fictiony: I think the relationship between Cobb (DiCaprio) and Mal (Cotillard) shows a profound understanding of what it means to have a very close marriage with a creative partner at a time of conflict. Part of the reason I don't get caught up in the "oh but is he really awake?" ending is because the emotional payoff isn't really about that; it comes during the moment when he talks to Mal in limbo about what it means to miss her and the depth of what they had together. The memories we've seen again and again in the film are given a new and positive meaning.
Which is what links Inception to the Gottman book. The exercises I found most affecting, perhaps because I am a storyteller and narrative-maker, are about deciding how to remember your past together. When you tell the story of your first date or your wedding or your courtship or the birth of your child, do you mostly talk about the things that went wrong or the things that were wonderful and exciting? Because it's very easy to draw an entirely different emotional picture from the same data. Very easy.
And I could probably talk about this longer, but I have to leave now or I'm going to be late to something.
The book is not perfect; it kind of opens with scare stories, but I forgive the authors because that's what people are always asking them about and it's reasonable that they'd want to get it out of the way. And there tends to be a bit more "men are like this and women are like this" than I like, although always with the caveat that "we're not saying all men and women or that this is inherent rather than socialized; we're just saying that 80% of couples we've seen are influenced by patriarchal modes of behavior." I'm paraphrasing. Although for real principle four is essentially "get feminist immediately or you are doomed to unhappiness forever." They call it "Let Your Partner Influence You" to make it seem more approachable and equitable, but if you read the chapter, it's pretty obvious my fake title is more representative.
In any case, what the whole thing boils down to is: You're going to fight, and it's fine. Just be good best friends the rest of the time. Here are some exercises and games you can play to keep your friendship solid. And pretty much these exercises also work and would be fun to do with your friends you're not married to, with slight modifications. (And indeed Gottman has another book that does these modifications for you, The Relationship Cure, written with Joan DeClaire.)
Oddly enough, the book has me thinking about Inception again. (Rewatching Brick was a second contributing factor.) Given how well the movie has held up for me over repeated viewings and several years, I have to entertain the possibility that it's one of my favorite movies. (This is one of the questions in the book: What is your partner's favorite movie? Which is a trick question if it's me or Ciro, because good god how could either of us be expected to choose a favorite movie? As my friend Birgitta (also a filmmaker) would answer, "It's Sophie's Choice!")
A large part of the reason I like Inception so much is not very science fictiony: I think the relationship between Cobb (DiCaprio) and Mal (Cotillard) shows a profound understanding of what it means to have a very close marriage with a creative partner at a time of conflict. Part of the reason I don't get caught up in the "oh but is he really awake?" ending is because the emotional payoff isn't really about that; it comes during the moment when he talks to Mal in limbo about what it means to miss her and the depth of what they had together. The memories we've seen again and again in the film are given a new and positive meaning.
Which is what links Inception to the Gottman book. The exercises I found most affecting, perhaps because I am a storyteller and narrative-maker, are about deciding how to remember your past together. When you tell the story of your first date or your wedding or your courtship or the birth of your child, do you mostly talk about the things that went wrong or the things that were wonderful and exciting? Because it's very easy to draw an entirely different emotional picture from the same data. Very easy.
And I could probably talk about this longer, but I have to leave now or I'm going to be late to something.
