ah love. the poets and philosophers have wrestled with its shape and effects for time immemorial. emerson, ovid, shakespeare, st. augustine, byron, tennyson, wilde, danielle steele… all have looked deeply within themselves and lucidly at those beside them, coming forth with apt metaphors and pentameter framed pearls of wisdom, but alas, they did not have magnetic resonance scanners and gene therapy so their conclusions must be moot. right?
well, as has been the case for years now, the scientists who poke about in the brain and the dna of small furry creatures have collected data which is supposed to add the the sum of human self knowledge, and help us grasp the mysterious nature of our emotions. in this case playing lab coated god with voles, rats, and monkeys (who tremble before their great power) has supposedly shed some clean clinical light on the mechanisms of love, romance, lust, etc. the good news: these emotions do evidently exist. (thank you scientists!) the bad news: they are the addictions in drug crazed brains forever seeking to keep appropriate receptors awash in a tide of the chemical “good shit”. ok, maybe i overstate a touch. granted.
the comparisons these folks come up with are decidedly less enchanting than those of the non-scientists who tread this ground before them. for example: “parts of the brain that are love-bitten include the one responsible for gut feelings, and the ones which generate the euphoria induced by drugs such as cocaine. so the brains of people deeply in love do not look like those of people experiencing strong emotions, but instead like those of people snorting coke.” hmmm, charming, just rolls off the tongue. or this beautiful passage: “the data suggests that the actual behavioral patterns of those in love, such as attempting to evoke reciprocal responses in one’s loved one, resemble obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD).” ahhh, so touching.
as interesting as the findings are, as helpful as they may be for those with debilitating disorders, as ugly as the implications for a new slew of pharmaceuticals down the line, i would almost rather not know the specifics. knowing that these are the mechanisms of love and lust does not change the reality of the experience, or help me in my dealings with them. the last thing i need is to look at my girlfriend when i’m kissing her and think about the chemicals that are responsible for my feelings, i’d rather go on thinking she alone is responsible, and that love is something more than chemistry, even if i know it’s just bull headed romanticism or bull shit. it’s like reading existentialism, your life may have no meaning or purpose other than the one you define for yourself, but does knowing that actually help you define the meaning and purpose? or does that knowledge just discourage you? make it even easier to just say, “aw fuck it.” guess it depends on what kind of person you are. in any case, i think i prefer the inexact, shadowy, nuanced examinations of love and desire that art offers. they are way more fun. you can already get your hard-ons and babies through the miracle of science, let me keep my joys and heartbreaks mysterious.
anyhow here is the article which lays it all out for you, you freakish, sweaty palmed, chemically dependent, beady-eyed addict. it’s pretty interesting.