Mrs. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy ...

Just went to see the newest cinematic version of Pride and Prejudice. If I had not internalized so much of the dialogue from multiple readings of the official verson or hours watching the BBC version, I might have thought the current movie beyond compare. As it was, I had difficulty hearing beloved lines mutilated and shrunken to a fraction of their original meaning. However, I didn't not like it. The movie was stirring in its own way because the director focused on the passion between Elizabeth and Darcy.

The story is such a captivating one. For one thing, the heroine and hero are equally matched in intelligence and passion. As they are in all powerful love stories ... Romeo and Juliet, Marc Anthony and Cleopatra, Ed and Chieko Okazaki. If it were not so, there would be no triumph and no reason to tell the story.

The triumph lies in the sequential zeniths and nadirs. Both protagonists imagine themselves to be larger than life. In essence, they start at a zenith. The first nadir occurs when they realize that the one whose esteem they covet does not reciprocate their regard. The shock gives way to a sour grapes state, with a concomitant false zenith. During the course of the narrative, they are brought to a second nadir in recognizing that they do not actually merit the love of the other. It would be truly depressing if the story ended there. However, the triumph lies in discovering that, however undeserving they themselves are, their love is incredibly, passionately and honorably returned.

And that, I think, is the miracle of love. We are all unlovable at some time or another. The wondrous thing is that another person would love us despite our unworthines, and that we each have the power to give and receive of the miracle. I think that this is the hope that propels every person through this mortal existence: that another being will freely and unreservedly love us. To some it may seem so easy to obtain, but difficult to retain. Others may seek for love and adoration through wordly success. Many are deceived by, or deceive by offering, paltry substitutes. Some are so discouraged by failure that they let bitterness steal the sweet possibility of the miracle.

For myself, I prefer to believe that the gift lies just around the bend in the road, and that I am slowly but surely making my way to it. Be it in this life or the one to come; in the form of agape, eros, philia or storge; the miracle is mine.