tion>Why Love
Will Always Be
A Poor Investment
Marriage and Consumer Culture
KURT ARMSTRONG
WIPF & STOCK • Eugene, Oregon
Why Love will always be a poor investment
Marriage and Consumer Culture
Copyright © 2011 Kurt Armstrong. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in critical publications or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the publisher. Write: Permissions, Wipf and Stock Publishers, 199 W. 8th Ave., Suite 3, Eugene, OR 97401.
A version of “Locust Years” was broadcast on The Vinyl Café on CBC Radio 2.
“Jesus Loves Your Penis, Son” was originally published in Geez magazine.
A version of “Let All Striving Cease” was originally published in Radix magazine and is reprinted with permission.
“Why Love Will Always Be A Poor investment” is reprinted with permission from: Where Faith Meets Culture: The Radix Magazine Anthology (Wipf and Stock.)
“Loves,” Copyright © 2002 by Scott Cairns, from Philokalia (Zoo Press). Used by permission.
“Marriage” and “Goods,” Copyright © 1985 by Wendell Berry from The Collected Poems of Wendell Berry, 1957–1982. Reprinted by permission of Counterpoint.
“What I Should Have Said,” by Terry Taylor, Copyright © 2000 Zoom Daddy Music, BMI. Used by permission.
EMOTIONAL WEATHER REPORT
Written by Tom Waits
©1975 Opus 19 Music (ASCAP)
Used By Permission. All Rights Reserved.
BETTER OFF WITHOUT A WIFE
Written by Tom Waits
©1975 Opus 19 Music (ASCAP)
Used By Permission. All Rights Reserved.
TAKE IT WITH ME
Written by Tom Waits and Kathleen Brennan
©1999 JALMA MUSIC (ASCAP)
Used By Permission. All Rights Reserved.
Wipf & Stock
An Imprint of Wipf and Stock Publishers
199 W. 8th Ave., Suite 3
Eugene, OR 97401
www.wipfandstock.com
isbn 13: 978-1-60899-480-9
Manufactured in the U.S.A.
To Erika,
my wife, who, on more than one occasion, has locked the door behind me when I’ve stepped out to check the mail.
my wife, who asks me to hide the chocolate chips because she doesn’t feel like she’ll be strong enough to resist the temptation to snack on them and then, one day, has a chocolate craving so fierce she tears everything out of the kitchen drawers, everything off the shelves, everything out of the cupboards, just to try to find those damn chocolate chips.
my beautiful wife, whom I’ve watched use three different knives to cut up one apple. And then, when she was done, she put the slices into a cute bowl and walked away, leaving the knives—including the best knife, the go-to knife for everyday slicing and cutting, the German-made 6 inch paring knife that she gave to me for Christmas one year—the cut up apple core, and the apple juice, all sitting there on the cutting board, the knives getting sticky and the apple guts slowly turning brown.
my wife, my dearest friend in the whole world for the past seventeen years, who, as the very last thing she does before she goes to bed, takes one last look in the bathroom mirror and fixes her hair.
my wife, you are the soul of this book in all kinds of obvious ways, and in countless ways only you and I could know. I adore you.
Either life is holy with meaning,
or life doesn’t mean a damn thing.
—Frederick Buechner, “The Truth of Stories”
Foreword
by Aiden Enns
My first significant encounter with Kurt Armstrong
was through a piece of writing in Geez magazine, where I was working as an editor. Called, “To do this week,” the article detailed the myriad imperatives to improve our lives.
He revealed the absurd level of daily obligations faced by well-meaning consumers: “Eat more leafy greens and fibrous vegetables. Eat fresh fruit. Eat only certified-organic fresh fruit. Eat only locally grown, certified-organic fresh fruit. Eat less carbs, less red meat, less chemical-saturated, processed junk food. Eat less. Eat either more or fewer eggs depending on what they tell you is healthier this month.”
In Kurt’s writing we see an amazing ability to observe and articulate, both of these are gifts to readers who yearn to understand and live meaningful lives in a culture strewn with banalities.
Following the publication of this article, Kurt, Erika, and their two kids, Molly and baby Jack, moved to the prairies and spent the next year crammed in a tiny, wood-heated, no-bedroom cabin. It was an experiment in living, about which he wrote for us several times. It was also, no doubt, a test of fire for their marriage.
In the dead of winter, my partner Karen and I drove out to visit this crazy homesteader and his family. I wanted to witness this exercise in living directly with the elements. I saw the fruit of a summer harvest in jars on a shelf near the ceiling and the fuel from the forest chopped and stacked outside their abode.
At that time, Kurt asked me how an eager writer might become an insider at Geez magazine. My response was simple, “Hang around and make yourself useful.” Which is exactly what he did. The next year they moved to Winnipeg, and he eventually became a veteran on our team of section editors.
I was impressed with Kurt when I mentioned my anxiety of getting older and having few resources for retirement (by North American middle class standards we have a low income, plus we elected to have no children). “Aiden,” he quickly replied, “you and Karen can come over and live with us. We’ll take care of you.” In the years since that seemingly flippant response, he’s affirmed the sincerity of the offer and is now part of our community.
Kurt and I differ on many things. For example, we have different answers to questions about marriage, such as Who should get married to whom? and, Can we even redeem marriage from is patriarchal roots? But we agree on foundational things, such as the need for self-giving love (especially among men) and a commitment to work through conflict.
In a section on “the lonely terror of infinite choice,” Kurt writes, “My self is not a finite resource
