So yesterday was Valentine’s Day, bringer of grief for the lovelorn and smug righteousness for the loved up.
It’s easy to be cynical when it comes to this day in all its commercial, consumerist glory – making some of us feel inadequate for not having received two dozen roses – but I still enjoy it.
In Ireland we have always prided ourselves on being the land of ‘saints and scholars’, with some of the world’s most renowned poets inspired by our beautiful landscape, then clothing their thoughts with words to make the mundane sound magnificent.
Despite all of this, there tends to be a belief that Irish writers might not be perfectly disposed to the art of the romantic poem, where the risk of using flowery words and declaring unrealistic notions of undying love might result in ridicule at the pub.
Aside from Yeats’s “He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven” - which could be distilled down to the best excuse for not buying a gift that a man has ever came up with: “I forgot your birthday and I’m a bit skint… but here, you have my dreams" – we tend to stick with the tangible, and if all else fails, the heartbreak.
Oh, how we bask in the despair a great love can bring, where girls are made of clay and rob angels of their wings, while the men walk away where women cannot follow (there are two poems in this sentence if you fancy a Saturday morning riddle).
That’s why it brings me such joy every February to see a fella decked out in his steel toe-capped boots and paint-splattered gear stopping at the petrol station to grab a bunch of battered carnations wrapped up in cellophane with a decorative plastic butterfly in their midst, all the while looking shiftily over his shoulder for fear of being spotted by a friend who might get the wrong idea that “Paddy’s an aul romantic, so he is”.
Some guys grab a card haphazardly, not daring to look too long, while others will stand for a while choosing the right message only to throw it nonchalantly on the counter and declare to the cashier “Ock it has to be done… happy wife, happy life” etc.
I know it’s a form of schadenfreude but I get so much happiness from watching red-faced, reluctant romantics walking around with their love trinkets, knowing that regardless of whether they feel coerced into partaking in the ritual, they have braved the ignominy of perfume-purchasing or botanical-buying simply to see a smile on their partner’s face (and let’s be honest, it’s a sure-fire way to end up on a promise).
Essentially that’s what it’s all about. Men, I guarantee you that regardless if you’ve been married 40 years and never acknowledged Valentine’s Day once in all that time, if you bring her home a bunch of flowers she’ll be delighted.
She may not even seem it but you’ll notice the good big piece of chicken on yer plate that night – not a euphemism, but could well be.
A friend of mine was dismayed when I pointed out that she and all of her siblings’ birthdays fall in such a way that would allude to their conception being around Valentine’s Day.
Imagine her disgust when her ma cackled and agreed that their da must have remembered the card that year.
Forgive me for indulging my gooey side but I believe that experiencing love is the best thing in life.
After all, St Valentine was martyred for marrying Roman soldiers to their beloved against the wishes of the emperor, who theorised that unmarried men without wives or children made better warriors.
Clearly big Claudius understood that those with no-one to love have nothing to lose.
I’m not simply referring to romantic love at that. The most precious things that I keep in a box are little cards from my sons, with messy love hearts made from tiny ink-dipped fingertips.
Many people are more than happy living out their best lives without being handcuffed to the first lunatic who slipped a ring on their finger.
Recent studies have shown an upturn in the economy of ‘self-gifting’, where consumers are treating themselves to little indulgences more often throughout the working week as a reward for just getting through some days.
Doing this is possibly the reason I had a hard time shifting two stone off my thighs and tummy after a particularly tough month, but whatever gets you through the night…