I awoke in the middle of the night and could not go back to sleep, so I turned on the TV and found myself watching a BBC documentary on the only recently discovered story of Charles Dickens' 13-year affair with a young actress, Ellen Ternan. Although his obsession with her broke up his marriage and family, this hugely popular Victorian man --in terms of fame a male combo of JK Rowling and Princess Di-- managed to keep it a secret from everyone but a very few intimates, who kept it to themselves. His treatment of his wife, who bore him 9 children, was abominable.
After he died, Ms. Ternan later married, also keeping secret her long affair from her new husband and their child, who did not discover it until after her death. Amazing.
The power of eros. Never to be underestimated. As much as Dickens' particular behavior appears like a kind of frenzied madness...well, that's what the god induces. As I said the other day, at the best of times our free will is limited by our postlapsarian ignorance and passion. When that kind of love enters in...well, they don't call it falling for nothing.
I read that in a book.
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