The Geometry of Love

In the geometry of love, everything is triangular. ~The Rule of Four

I am half-way through The Rule of Four, a bestseller which ranks next to The Da Vinci Code. Though the story is built upon a cultural account of a Renaissance text, it also tells of the bittersweet moments and dilemmas of the coming-of-age, which I could easily relate to as a teenager at the verge of adulthood.

Love draws lines between us like an astronomer plotting constellation from stars, joining points into patterns that have no basis in nature. As Providence would have it, one star somehow gets connected to a particular one, out of the millions out there. Together, they form a binary star, revolving around a common centre under mutual attraction.

But alas! Not all stars are destined to be thus, for the gravitation may not mutual but one without reciprocal, as opposed to the logics provided by physics. One of the stars moves away, either willingly or not, as if by the effects of a centrifuge; the other one tries to undo the process of detachment while blaming the forces of nature which has gone awry in this disorderly world.

Nevertheless, the latter knows from the start that there are not only two stars in the field but three, and the laws of physics still hold after all, for the star he is chasing after is gravitating towards the stronger, third star.

Yet, he refuses to acknowledge the existence of this star, as if he could win the race by remaining ignorant. So, follow as he may, but time will finally prove his efforts vain. Thus, the two stars eventually form a binary star of their own, leaving him in a quandary. In the end, he has to accept the fact that he has been the third star all the while, which somehow got enmeshed in the quagmire. And thus, the triangle has now been resolved into a simple, straight line, joining not three, but two points.

Three weeks ago, the training camp offered me an excuse to take leave from my reeling life, or rather, presented me the opportunity to form a triangle of my own to offset the effects of the distant star I am chasing in vain. In the two weeks’ time, physics has become my raison d’etre and for the moment, I thought the star is nothing but a quasar that has cease to illuminate my world, however bright it might have been.

But, today, a week after the fateful call, I still find it hard to recompose myself. Books may offer relieve, but only temporarily; friends may draw me away from any burdening thoughts, but not long enough. Worse, I can no longer listen to my favourite songs without being moved, for they invoke a certain unpleasant feeling I have tried to bury within the psyche.

Love conquers all. This poetic-sounding motto is misunderstood by ten persons out of ten, thanks to Chaucer, if Agostino Carracci’s view were to be accepted, Love is not supposed to be on your side. You fight with him; you try to undo what he does to others. But he’s too powerful. No matter how much we suffer, our hardships cannot move him. And this is the interpretation that I prefer.

O, mighty Eros! Son of Aphrodite, god of love, thou art deified by many and despised by the rancoured lot whom you have caused grievious hurt! I concede defeat; I relinquish the pursuit! Woe is me for I suffer from the aftermath of the battle long-lost before it was fought…