Forbidden Love in The Great Gatsby, Romeo and Juliet, and J Alfred Prufrock’s Love Song
Stephanie Meyers’ Twilight series has revived popular interest in stories about forbidden love. Around the world, Twilight readers have been snapping up copies of books like Jane Eyre, Pride and Prejudice, Wuthering Heights, and The Hair Manual of the Walking Dead.
However, Meyers’ series has been criticized for giving impressionable teens and tweens unrealistic expectations of romance, not to mention the whole womb-eating vampire baby thing.
With Facebook groups like “Why isn’t Edward Cullen real?” and “Twilight Has Ruined Any Chance I Have at a Realistic Relationship” increasingly in fashion, many scruffy and ill-dressed teenage boys fear their chances for romance are diminishing. (To even the playing field, every other media outlet has kept its inverse female beauty/female clothing ratio at an all-time high.)
This barrage of unrealistic expectations is more than many of us can bear. For those who prefer their forbidden love old-school (agonizing, embarrassing, and possibly fatal), here are some classics that should be a depressing breath of fresh air.
Painful scenario number one: mutual destruction. Forbidden Boy Meets Forbidden Girl, Forbidden Boy and Girl Get Secretly Married, Forbidden Newlyweds Accidentally Die in an Elaborate Plan to Leave Town. This is Romeo and Juliet’s strategy for love and it happens…well, not all the time, but it does.
Reasons we like it: You know how fairy tales always end right after the fair maiden and prince charming get married? That’s because no one wants to hear about diaper changes or mortgage payments. A violent ending removes all the boring stuff, as well as tapping into the primitive, reptilian part of our brain that links sex with danger and death. Which, by the way, is not the same as undeath.
Painful scenario number two: silent longing. The boy meets the girl, the boy decides that the girl is out of his league, the boy swallows his feelings and vows to die alone. This is J. Alfred Prufrock’s love song, and according to our secret diary investigation, it actually happens all the time.
Why we like it: We were there a lot. Avoiding confrontation is a great way to not only protect your dignity, but also keep the fantasy alive: we bet someone special never burped, farted, or drunk called your mom. Furthermore, the setting also appeals to our depressive fatalism. Not that this self-pity is going to wallow in on itself.
Painful scenario number three: self-destruction. The boy meets an unattainable girl, the boy starts a lucrative life of crime to impress the girl with a luxurious mansion, the boy is totally cheated. Er, shot. Make them both. This is the Great Gatsby courtship strategy, and while appealing in its own right, we don’t recommend trying it out at home.
Why we like it: Dying for a cause can be very noble, and getting incredibly rich along the way has its perks, too. Then, when your love interest turns out to be selfish, entitled, and therefore not worth your time, you can enjoy the special satisfaction that comes with knowing you are a superior being. This feeling will last for several full seconds before that bullet becomes a problem.