The Gray Lady’s Regard: Ritual and the Wedding Pages
…icissitudes. If only. At its hip-swinging height, love permeates, pressing between gritted teeth and crow’s feet, between the tedium of a day and the discontents of whatever profession. Etta may be right that it’s the thrill you rest your cheek to, and St. Paul may have it when he says it endures all things. But these Weddings don’t live on love; they live on calculation. One of the wicked pleasures as a reader of the announcements is to fantasize…
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