What is the Heroine’s Journey? (part VIII)
I find this fascinating for a number of reasons, not least of which is it matches my life experience, and seems to be reflected in the female heroines of which I read this last summer — but, curiously enough, not the male one. Having read all the books one right after another, I find I actually miss this “crafting of community” effect in the Harry Dresden books, and prefer stories where the heroine makes an effort to bring people together, as she befriends and helps the many. I do not know if this is a uniquely female trait — I would doubt it, since behavior is trainable — but I do know that for me it makes for a richer storyline and a more fully emotionally developed protagonist.
To be fair, it is not just Harry Dresden who seems to miss the boat on this. For example, I appreciate his clear affection for his half brother, but there are times where I wonder if Butcher had any siblings — because the unquestioning, near-selfless devotion the two characters show each other doesn’t look like anything I’ve ever seen between siblings! Harry and Thomas never squabble or fight, never leave each other in a huff, never disagree for any length of time — they have an astonishingly perfect relationship! I don’t think I or my sister, as a single example, have ever felt that way about each other. ;)
Past his half brother, though, Harry seems to waffle an awful lot on who he cares about and who he doesn’t. There’s been a time or two where I was quite befuddled as to just why people seemed to care so much for him, in fact, considering his lack of strong personal connections. Not only does he make little to no effort to build community, but he also seemed to fall in and out of love with Susan Rodriguez, the reporter, quite easily — from one book to another, in fact. I couldn’t help but wonder if an emotional state you could shed so smoothly and swiftly could really be called love.
I was, in fact, reminded of psychiatrist M. Scott Peck’s classic self-help book The Road Less Traveled: A New Psychology of Love, Traditional Values, and Spiritual Growth, where Peck defines consciously and truly loving someone as “the will to extend one’s self for the purpose of nurturing one’s own or another’s spiritual growth.” The author writes, “Love is as love does. Love is an act of will — namely, both an intention and an action. Will also implies choice. We do not have to love. We choose to love.”
Since most of us have been taught to think of love as a feeling rather than a conscious choice, we do not realize what we’re really doing when we say we are “falling in love” is actually cathecting, i.e. when we feel deeply drawn to someone, we invest deep feelings or emotion in them. The actual process of personal investment itself (i.e. where the loved one becomes important to us) is called cathexis. In his book Peck strongly points out that most of us “confuse cathecting with loving.”
I don’t know about anyone else, but I can easily think of many individuals I’ve known (myself included, on occasion), who insisted they loved someone — even if they were harming or neglecting the “loved” individual! Peck refers to this feeling as cathexis: a state of emotional connection to someone, but which nurtures only the cathecting individual — sometimes at the cost of the other. It is this process of cathecting which most people who feel it insist is love.
This is also, I think, what Harry felt for Susan, via what Butcher’s writing tells us of their relationship. I am reminded of the discussion where Michael, Knight of the Cross, gently pushes Harry to decide if he loves Susan or not. Even at the time I thought Michael was rather assuming on his friend’s emotions. I cannot help but wonder if that was the point where Harry guiltily decided it couldn’t be just physical lust — because he didn’t want to seem shallow in his friend’s eyes. It’s quite possible, of course, that Susan had the same cathecting beliefs for Harry; however, we’re not given enough information on her feelings for me to make any sort of educated guess.
By the fact that Butcher at one point has a White Court vampire unable to harm Harry because he is “in love,” I would guess Butcher has not read Peck’s book, and thought Harry’s emotional state would be analogous to actual love. However, it would also explain why Harry so easily fell out of love with Susan: it was an obsession which was no longer of physical benefit to him, and he had never chosen to nurture her spiritually, so he stopped cathecting with her.
Reading this over later, I’m somewhat dismayed at how harsh and manipulative this makes Harry sound. That is not my intent at all; I overall enjoyed the Dresden Files, and I’m simply curiously searching for a possible logical explanation of why Harry would simply fall out of love with someone like that — especially since he’s supposed to be so devoted to his few good friends. I’ll also note lonely people (and Harry definitely is one in the early books) will sometimes unwittingly latch onto possible lovers without giving much thought as to whether there’s any real love happening, as well. That’s not cruel or manipulative — that’s simple human nature. So, in an effort to hopefully lighten the mood a bit, and for the intellectual fun of it, I’ll throw out a few more possibilities. ;)
Perhaps Butcher doesn’t believe you can love one person but have sex with another? If so, I’d have to say human experience would certainly give that the lie. I’m also a touch perplexed by the apparent assumption that the state of being in love which protects one from vampires of the White Court can only exist between physical lovers — so could Harry maybe be experiencing some other form of love? For a few quick examples of other possibilities: what about love of deity? Would the devoutly christian bearers of the swords of the cross be protected so? What about a mother’s love for her children? When it happens, that can be one of the most powerful loves known to us, causing women to perform superhuman feats to protect their children — I would emphatically think that should definitely count. Perhaps these sorts of love do indeed protect from the White Court, but even if we’ve seen it, it was unwitting? i.e. we’ve not yet had it clearly demonstrated and explained in the stories?