Lost on the Lunatic Fringe

That’s what Kurt Vonnegut Jr. used in his book Slaughterhouse Five to indicate that someone had died. It was an ironic understatement.

I have to say, I don’t think I’ll be sad when 2009 is dead and gone. It’s been a rough year all around. We’ve been laid off, moved, been desperately broke, considered moving again, owed taxes, (the figure we owe is suspiciously similar to the figure we got in a stimulus check) and now due to a fuck-up on the part of our employer during Mehdi’s transfer, we’ve been presented with an $800 bill by our dentist, because Mehdi wasn’t covered by insurance during August. My first thought was, “Sykes strikes again”. The alternate thought was “And here we are again, guests of the surprise party department”.
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I got this song stuck in my head, and I got to thinking about the significance of the engagement ring. Now, I personally never cared about the tradition myself, except on a vague emotional level. I got the song stuck in my head, though, and me being me, I had to analyse the cultural meaning of an engagement ring.

The first thought that came into my head was that it was something a woman could hock if things went south. It was symbolic of economic independence, a gift that a man gave a woman to show that he was giving her freedom instead of tying her down. Then I thought about how it symbolized an investment in the relationship on the part of the man. To most men, a diamond engagement ring is a significant investment. You have to be serious to even consider spending that chunk of your income on a piece of jewelry. That, paired with the idea that it symbolized economic freedom to the recipient creates the situation of it being a sacrifice, a leap of faith.

I got to thinking how people simplify these ideas into an obligation. “He owes me a ring” (In exchange for what?) “She owes me because I gave her a ring, otherwise she should give it back.” (Again, what’s the exchange?) It all seems to have turned something with beautiful symbolism into something ugly and materialistic, or commercial. It’s turned into something that makes women into grasping whores and men into buyers. I can’t help but feel as if so many things in our society and relationships are reduced to this. Maybe it’s because we make a show of love, but love doesn’t figure into all that many relationships. The ideas which would be beautiful in the presence of love and trust turn into something ugly and cheap in its absence, and it’s reduced to something very very close to prostitution. Maybe that’s why I didn’t want an engagement ring before I got married the second time, because I’d perceived it in its ugly sense, and didn’t want to sully my relationship with that.

It’s funny how many things change depending on their context.