Help me find a prose reading for my best friend's wedding!
September 22, 2011 8:51 AM
My best friend is getting married! And I am doing the reading! Yay! Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to find anything that really fits the couple. Halp.
Just to head things off at the pass: her only hard requirement for me was “no poetry.” She’s very well read and owns books of poetry, so this is a matter of taste and not just an ignorant dislike of the medium. So no poetry. Knowing the bride for over a decade now, and the groom from the day they met, my requirement is “no cuddly stuff.”
A little about the pair: late-20s, very smart, arty, geeky, and civic-minded. She (and I) grew up as rough-and-tumble immigrant kids in Brooklyn. He had a more-or-less traditional (albeit liberal) upbringing in the upstate NY suburbs. I lived next door to them for about two years and, in my time as Kramer, I would regularly walk in on them watching Lord of the Rings for the umpteenth time, him painting his Warhammer 40K army and her wrists-deep in another mosaic project. One of the first things I remember her being all gushy about was that he enjoyed painting and listened to acquired-taste electronic music (Aphex Twin, Squarepusher, et. al.) We all play Dungeons and Dragons and Magic: The Gathering together when we hang out. They both have master's degrees and work for the government (her: public health, him: transportation.)
The bride’s family is Russian-Jewish, all immigrants, and based on the toasting traditions of our people, terseness is heavily discouraged. The groom’s family is a bit conservative (in the “no dirty stuff” sense, not the socio-political sense) so I can’t work remotely blue. If possible, I want something sincere and, more importantly, funny. Not, like, “aw, that’s sweet”-funny, but genuinely crack-‘em-up funny. I tried going through my Woody Allen books, but that stuff is a bit too sardonic. I’d want something from a (well-written) science fiction or fantasy novel, but the source can’t be obvious. David Foster Wallace seems to be a good match, but I haven’t read enough of his stuff to get a good wedding-appropriate chunk.
So, any ideas? Feel free to ask more questions. This is the first time I am ever taking part in a wedding (and only the fourth wedding I have ever been to.)
Just to head things off at the pass: her only hard requirement for me was “no poetry.” She’s very well read and owns books of poetry, so this is a matter of taste and not just an ignorant dislike of the medium. So no poetry. Knowing the bride for over a decade now, and the groom from the day they met, my requirement is “no cuddly stuff.”
A little about the pair: late-20s, very smart, arty, geeky, and civic-minded. She (and I) grew up as rough-and-tumble immigrant kids in Brooklyn. He had a more-or-less traditional (albeit liberal) upbringing in the upstate NY suburbs. I lived next door to them for about two years and, in my time as Kramer, I would regularly walk in on them watching Lord of the Rings for the umpteenth time, him painting his Warhammer 40K army and her wrists-deep in another mosaic project. One of the first things I remember her being all gushy about was that he enjoyed painting and listened to acquired-taste electronic music (Aphex Twin, Squarepusher, et. al.) We all play Dungeons and Dragons and Magic: The Gathering together when we hang out. They both have master's degrees and work for the government (her: public health, him: transportation.)
The bride’s family is Russian-Jewish, all immigrants, and based on the toasting traditions of our people, terseness is heavily discouraged. The groom’s family is a bit conservative (in the “no dirty stuff” sense, not the socio-political sense) so I can’t work remotely blue. If possible, I want something sincere and, more importantly, funny. Not, like, “aw, that’s sweet”-funny, but genuinely crack-‘em-up funny. I tried going through my Woody Allen books, but that stuff is a bit too sardonic. I’d want something from a (well-written) science fiction or fantasy novel, but the source can’t be obvious. David Foster Wallace seems to be a good match, but I haven’t read enough of his stuff to get a good wedding-appropriate chunk.
So, any ideas? Feel free to ask more questions. This is the first time I am ever taking part in a wedding (and only the fourth wedding I have ever been to.)
Do you have any idea what the sentiment you want to express is? How about length of the reading? I have some ideas, but some more specific information on the purpose of the reading vs. the type of people they are would be good.
posted by Think_Long at 9:04 AM on September 22, 2011
posted by Think_Long at 9:04 AM on September 22, 2011
My suggestions, something I've posted before:
If "weird" is too strong of a word, you can replace it with others, but the thesaurus isn't offering many flattering options.
posted by filthy light thief at 9:12 AM on September 22, 2011
"We are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love."-- source unknown
If "weird" is too strong of a word, you can replace it with others, but the thesaurus isn't offering many flattering options.
posted by filthy light thief at 9:12 AM on September 22, 2011
Not exactly what you wanted, but I think of Hermann Hesse when I read the question:
"One never reaches home,' she said. 'But where paths that have an affinity for each other intersect, the whole world looks like home, for a time.'"
posted by kcm at 9:21 AM on September 22, 2011
"One never reaches home,' she said. 'But where paths that have an affinity for each other intersect, the whole world looks like home, for a time.'"
posted by kcm at 9:21 AM on September 22, 2011
I would be exaggerating only a bit if I were to say that they have been pretty much inseparable since day one, which was four years ago this summer. Their personalities, however, are definitely complimentary: he's cool, she's hot. She helps him get up and go, he knows how to calm her down.
The sentiment I would want to express is the growth they continuously inspire in one another and the delightful paradox of how they remain genuinely unique and individual despite the fact that they make such a fantastic unit.
As far as length, she sent me a "you can read this or pick your own" example and it was about a good, thick paragraph of Rilke (here, ctrl+F "it is also"). So, around there would be great. I am not the best public speaker, but, again, cultural demands require that I talk for a good bit.
posted by griphus at 9:25 AM on September 22, 2011
The sentiment I would want to express is the growth they continuously inspire in one another and the delightful paradox of how they remain genuinely unique and individual despite the fact that they make such a fantastic unit.
As far as length, she sent me a "you can read this or pick your own" example and it was about a good, thick paragraph of Rilke (here, ctrl+F "it is also"). So, around there would be great. I am not the best public speaker, but, again, cultural demands require that I talk for a good bit.
posted by griphus at 9:25 AM on September 22, 2011
If I were in your shoes, I'd reread the major Le Guin, looking for passages about love and time. (Likely suspects: The Telling, The Word for World is Forest, maybe towards the end of Rocannon's World?)
posted by RJ Reynolds at 9:27 AM on September 22, 2011
posted by RJ Reynolds at 9:27 AM on September 22, 2011
Oh! That is a fantastic idea! Left Hand is one of her favorite novels. (Keep 'em coming, though, folks.)
posted by griphus at 9:27 AM on September 22, 2011
posted by griphus at 9:27 AM on September 22, 2011
Never mind what they'd like, read them First Corinthians. Include the first verse about the tongues of men and angels for added fantasy pop.
posted by Snarl Furillo at 9:30 AM on September 22, 2011
posted by Snarl Furillo at 9:30 AM on September 22, 2011
If you're considering Rilke, here's the way I edited two letters that I felt complemented each other. (We only ended up reading the second one, which is usually listed as being from Letters to a Young Poet but is actually from another earlier letter.)
from two letters of Rainer Maria Rilke
For one human being to love another human being: that is perhaps the most difficult task that has been entrusted to us, the ultimate task, the final test and proof, the work for which all other work is merely preparation. That is why young people, who are beginners in everything, are not yet capable of love: it is something they must learn. With their whole being, with all their forces, gathered around their solitary, anxious, upward-beating heart, they must learn to love. . . .
Loving is a high inducement for the individual to ripen, to become something in himself, to become world, to become world in himself for the sake of another person. . . .
It is the ultimate; it is perhaps that for which human lives are as yet barely large enough.
*****
The point of marriage is not to create a quick commonality by tearing down all boundaries. On the contrary: a good marriage is one in which each partner appoints the other to be the guardian of their solitude, and thus they show each other the greatest possible trust.
A merging of two people is an impossibility, and where it seems to exist, it is a hemming-in, a mutual consent that robs one party or both parties of their fullest freedom and development.
But once the realization is accepted that even between the closest people infinite distances exist, a marvelous living side by side can grow up for them, if they succeed in loving the expanse between them, which gives them the possibility of always seeing each other as a whole, and against an immense sky.
Therefore, this too must be the standard for rejection or choice: whether you are willing to stand guard over someone else's solitude, and whether you are inclined to set this same person at the gate of your own depths, of which he learns only through that what steps forth, in festive clothing, out of the great darkness.
Also, the Madeleine L'Engle reading might be good, too.
From "The Irrational Season" by Madeleine L'Engle
But ultimately there comes a moment when a decision must be made. Ultimately two people who love each other must ask themselves how much they hope for as their love grows and deepens, and how much risk they are willing to take…It is indeed a fearful gamble…Because it is the nature of love to create, a marriage itself is something which has to be created, so that, together we become a new creature.
To marry is the biggest risk in human relations that a person can take…If we commit ourselves to one person for life this is not, as many people think, a rejection of freedom; rather it demands the courage to move into all the risks of freedom, and the risk of love which is permanent; into that love which is not possession, but participation…It takes a lifetime to learn another person…When love is not possession, but participation, then it is part of that co-creation which is our human calling, and which implies such risk that it is often rejected.
posted by Madamina at 9:33 AM on September 22, 2011
from two letters of Rainer Maria Rilke
For one human being to love another human being: that is perhaps the most difficult task that has been entrusted to us, the ultimate task, the final test and proof, the work for which all other work is merely preparation. That is why young people, who are beginners in everything, are not yet capable of love: it is something they must learn. With their whole being, with all their forces, gathered around their solitary, anxious, upward-beating heart, they must learn to love. . . .
Loving is a high inducement for the individual to ripen, to become something in himself, to become world, to become world in himself for the sake of another person. . . .
It is the ultimate; it is perhaps that for which human lives are as yet barely large enough.
*****
The point of marriage is not to create a quick commonality by tearing down all boundaries. On the contrary: a good marriage is one in which each partner appoints the other to be the guardian of their solitude, and thus they show each other the greatest possible trust.
A merging of two people is an impossibility, and where it seems to exist, it is a hemming-in, a mutual consent that robs one party or both parties of their fullest freedom and development.
But once the realization is accepted that even between the closest people infinite distances exist, a marvelous living side by side can grow up for them, if they succeed in loving the expanse between them, which gives them the possibility of always seeing each other as a whole, and against an immense sky.
Therefore, this too must be the standard for rejection or choice: whether you are willing to stand guard over someone else's solitude, and whether you are inclined to set this same person at the gate of your own depths, of which he learns only through that what steps forth, in festive clothing, out of the great darkness.
Also, the Madeleine L'Engle reading might be good, too.
From "The Irrational Season" by Madeleine L'Engle
But ultimately there comes a moment when a decision must be made. Ultimately two people who love each other must ask themselves how much they hope for as their love grows and deepens, and how much risk they are willing to take…It is indeed a fearful gamble…Because it is the nature of love to create, a marriage itself is something which has to be created, so that, together we become a new creature.
To marry is the biggest risk in human relations that a person can take…If we commit ourselves to one person for life this is not, as many people think, a rejection of freedom; rather it demands the courage to move into all the risks of freedom, and the risk of love which is permanent; into that love which is not possession, but participation…It takes a lifetime to learn another person…When love is not possession, but participation, then it is part of that co-creation which is our human calling, and which implies such risk that it is often rejected.
posted by Madamina at 9:33 AM on September 22, 2011
Vonnegut was the first thing that came to mind for me. There's this quote, which I think is from A Man Without A Country, and somebody wrote a Vonnegut-inspired wedding ceremony -- I think the paragraph that starts "you two" is lovely (and a wonderful example of the value a good civil officiant can add to a ceremony).
posted by EvaDestruction at 9:36 AM on September 22, 2011
posted by EvaDestruction at 9:36 AM on September 22, 2011
You might consider something from The Symposium. Aristophanes' speech (from which Hedwig and the Angry Inch got "the Origin of Love") seems pretty apropos for their relationship--and hey, it was funny to the ancient Greeks.
posted by PhoBWanKenobi at 9:40 AM on September 22, 2011
posted by PhoBWanKenobi at 9:40 AM on September 22, 2011
For my wedding, our reader gave a selection from James Baldwin's critique of The Exorcist, "The Devil Finds Work." There is some beautiful writing in this essay about the resonance of souls, and moral clarity. Plus, it is awesome.
posted by pickypicky at 10:01 AM on September 22, 2011
posted by pickypicky at 10:01 AM on September 22, 2011
Technically poetry, but I have used the Middle Kingdom Egyptian love song that has the line "With you I am happy, even without beer." It's a little short, but it shows that some human things do not change....
posted by GenjiandProust at 10:25 AM on September 22, 2011
posted by GenjiandProust at 10:25 AM on September 22, 2011
We used the following bits from the Goodridge v. Massachusetts decision:
posted by evoque at 3:22 PM on September 22, 2011
Marriage is a vital social institution. The exclusive commitment of two individuals to each other nurtures love and mutual support; it brings stability to our society. For those who choose to marry, and for their children, marriage provides an abundance of legal, financial, and social benefits. ... Without question, civil marriage enhances the “welfare of the community.”Our benediction was cobbled together from Dr. Seuss's "Oh, The Places You'll Go!" to close things off on a less-than-somber note.
Marriage also bestows enormous private and social advantages on those who choose to marry. Tangible as well as intangible benefits flow from marriage. ... The benefits accessible only by way of a marriage license are enormous, touching nearly every aspect of life and death. Without the right to marry, one is excluded from the full range of human experience.
Civil marriage is at once a deeply personal commitment to another human being and a highly public celebration of the ideals of mutuality, companionship, intimacy, fidelity, and family. Because it fulfills yearnings for security, safe haven, and connection that express our common humanity, civil marriage is an esteemed institution, and the decision whether and whom to marry is among life’s momentous acts of self-definition.
posted by evoque at 3:22 PM on September 22, 2011
I like Sonnet 116 but it's poetry.
http://www.todays-weddings.com/planning/readings.html
http://www.ceremoney.com/wedding-readings/
http://offbeatbride.com/tag/readings
http://weddings.about.com/od/yourweddingceremony/a/NovelReadings_2.htm
http://www.ladywindsong.com/weddings/readings.htm Toni Morrison
http://offbeatbride.com/2008/07/wedding-readings
From The Irrational Season By Madeleine L'Engle
But ultimately there comes a moment when a decision must be made. Ultimately two people who love each other must ask themselves how much they hope for as their love grows and deepens, and how much risk they are willing to take. It is indeed a fearful gamble. Because it is the nature of love to create, a marriage itself is something which has to be created, so that, together we become a new creature.
To marry is the biggest risk in human relations that a person can take.If we commit ourselves to one person for life this is not, as many people think, a rejection of freedom; rather it demands the courage to move into all the risks of freedom, and the risk of love which is permanent; into that love which is not possession, but participation. It takes a lifetime to learn another person. When love is not possession, but participation, then it is part of that co-creation which is our human calling, and which implies such risk that it is often rejected.
http://weddings.about.com/od/yourweddingceremony/a/UniqueReadings.htm
"To Diego and Frida" (Tina Modotti's toast) from the movie Frida
I don't believe in marriage. No, I really don't. Let me be clear about that. I think at worst it's a hostile political act, a way for small-minded men to keep women in the house and out of the way, wrapped up in the guise of tradition and conservative religious nonsense. At best, it's a happy delusion - these two people who truly love each other and have no idea how truly miserable they're about to make each other. But, but, when two people know that, and they decide with eyes wide open to face each other and get married anyway, then I don't think it's conservative or delusional. I think it's radical and courageous and very romantic.
http://weddings.about.com/od/weddingreadings/a/Funny-Wedding-Readings.htm
From the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes by Bill Watterson
Calvin: What's it like to fall in love?
Hobbes: Well... say the object of your affection walks by...
Calvin: Yeah?
Hobbes: First, your heart falls into your stomach and splashes your innards. All the moisture makes you sweat profusely. This condensation shorts the circuits to your brain and you get all woozy. When your brain burns out altogether, your mouth disengages and you babble like a cretin until she leaves.
Calvin: THAT'S LOVE?!?
Hobbes: Medically speaking.
Calvin: Heck, that happened to me once, but I figured it was cooties!
Captain Corelli’s Mandolin by Louis de Bernières
Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part.
Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being in love which any of us can convince ourselves we are.
Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two.
from Mercedes Lackey.
This bond, this joining, is not meant to be a fetter. A joining is a partnership, not two people becoming one. Two minds cannot fuse, two souls cannot merge, two hearts cannot keep to the same time. If two are foolish enough to try this, one must overwhelm the other, and that is not love, nor is it compassion, nor responsibility. You are two who choose to walk the same path, to bridge the differences between you with love. You must remember and respect those differences and learn to understand them, for they are part of what made you come to love in the first place. Love is patient, love is willing to compromise—love is willing to admit it is wrong. There will be hard times; you must face them as bound warriors do, side by side, not using the weapon of your knowledge to tear at each other. There will be sadness as well as joy, and must support one another through the grief and sorrow. There will be pain—but pain shared is pain halved, as joy shared is joy doubled, and you each must sacrifice your own comfort to share the pain of the other. And yet, you must do all this and manage to keep each other from wrong actions, for a joining means that you also pledge to help one another at all times. You must lead each other by example. Guide and be willing to be guided. Being joined does not mean that you accept what is truly wrong, being joined means that you must strive that you both remain in the light and the right. You must not pledge yourselves thinking that there will be no strife between you. That is fantasy, for you are two and not one, and there will inevitably come conflict that it will be up to you to resolve. You must not pledge yourselves thinking that all will be well from this moment on. That is a dream, and dreamers must eventually wake. You must come to this joining fully ready, fully committed, and fully respectful of each other.
Now you will no longer fear the storm, for you find shelter in each other.
Now the winter cannot harm you, for you warm each other with love.
Now when strength fails, you will be the wind to each other’s wings.
Now the darkness holds no danger, for you will be the light to each other’s path.
Now you will defy despair, for you will bring hope to each other’s heart.
Now there will be no more loneliness, for there will always be a hand reaching out to aid you when all seems darkest.
Where there were two paths, now there is one.
May your days together be long upon the earth, and each day blessed with joy in each other.
An excerpt from " The Two Towers : Being the Second Part of The Lord of the Rings" by J.R.R. Tolkien
ENT: When Spring unfolds the beechen leaf, and sap is in the bough;
When light is on the wild-wood stream, and wind is on the brow;
When stride is long, and breath is deep, and keen the mountain-air,
Come back to me! Come back to me, and say my land is fair!
ENTWIFE.: When Spring is come to garth and field, and corn is in the blade;
When blossom like a shining snow is on the orchard laid;
When shower and Sun upon the Earth with fragrance fill the air,
I*ll linger here, and will not come, because my land is fair.
ENT.: When Summer lies upon the world, and in a noon of gold
Beneath the roof of sleeping leaves the dreams of trees unfold;
When woodland halls are green and cool, and wind is in the West,
Come back to me! Come back to me, and say my land is best!
ENTWIFE. : When Summer warms the hanging fruit and burns the berry brown;
When straw is gold, and ear is white, and harvest comes to town;
When honey spills, and apple swells, though wind be in the West,
I*ll linger here beneath the Sun, because my land is best!
ENT.: When Winter comes, the winter wild that hill and wood shall slay;
When trees shall fall and starless night devour the sunless day;
When wind is in the deadly East, then in the bitter rain
I*ll look for thee, and call to thee; I*ll come to thee again!
ENTWIFE : When Winter comes, and singing ends; when darkness falls at last;
When broken is the barren bough, and light and labour past;
I*ll look for thee, and wait for thee, until we meet again:
Together we will tkae the road beneath the bitter rain!
BOTH : Together we will take the road that leads into the West,
And far away will find a land where both our hearts may rest.
posted by theora55 at 4:31 PM on September 22, 2011
http://www.todays-weddings.com/planning/readings.html
http://www.ceremoney.com/wedding-readings/
http://offbeatbride.com/tag/readings
http://weddings.about.com/od/yourweddingceremony/a/NovelReadings_2.htm
http://www.ladywindsong.com/weddings/readings.htm Toni Morrison
http://offbeatbride.com/2008/07/wedding-readings
From The Irrational Season By Madeleine L'Engle
But ultimately there comes a moment when a decision must be made. Ultimately two people who love each other must ask themselves how much they hope for as their love grows and deepens, and how much risk they are willing to take. It is indeed a fearful gamble. Because it is the nature of love to create, a marriage itself is something which has to be created, so that, together we become a new creature.
To marry is the biggest risk in human relations that a person can take.If we commit ourselves to one person for life this is not, as many people think, a rejection of freedom; rather it demands the courage to move into all the risks of freedom, and the risk of love which is permanent; into that love which is not possession, but participation. It takes a lifetime to learn another person. When love is not possession, but participation, then it is part of that co-creation which is our human calling, and which implies such risk that it is often rejected.
http://weddings.about.com/od/yourweddingceremony/a/UniqueReadings.htm
"To Diego and Frida" (Tina Modotti's toast) from the movie Frida
I don't believe in marriage. No, I really don't. Let me be clear about that. I think at worst it's a hostile political act, a way for small-minded men to keep women in the house and out of the way, wrapped up in the guise of tradition and conservative religious nonsense. At best, it's a happy delusion - these two people who truly love each other and have no idea how truly miserable they're about to make each other. But, but, when two people know that, and they decide with eyes wide open to face each other and get married anyway, then I don't think it's conservative or delusional. I think it's radical and courageous and very romantic.
http://weddings.about.com/od/weddingreadings/a/Funny-Wedding-Readings.htm
From the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes by Bill Watterson
Calvin: What's it like to fall in love?
Hobbes: Well... say the object of your affection walks by...
Calvin: Yeah?
Hobbes: First, your heart falls into your stomach and splashes your innards. All the moisture makes you sweat profusely. This condensation shorts the circuits to your brain and you get all woozy. When your brain burns out altogether, your mouth disengages and you babble like a cretin until she leaves.
Calvin: THAT'S LOVE?!?
Hobbes: Medically speaking.
Calvin: Heck, that happened to me once, but I figured it was cooties!
Captain Corelli’s Mandolin by Louis de Bernières
Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part.
Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being in love which any of us can convince ourselves we are.
Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two.
from Mercedes Lackey.
This bond, this joining, is not meant to be a fetter. A joining is a partnership, not two people becoming one. Two minds cannot fuse, two souls cannot merge, two hearts cannot keep to the same time. If two are foolish enough to try this, one must overwhelm the other, and that is not love, nor is it compassion, nor responsibility. You are two who choose to walk the same path, to bridge the differences between you with love. You must remember and respect those differences and learn to understand them, for they are part of what made you come to love in the first place. Love is patient, love is willing to compromise—love is willing to admit it is wrong. There will be hard times; you must face them as bound warriors do, side by side, not using the weapon of your knowledge to tear at each other. There will be sadness as well as joy, and must support one another through the grief and sorrow. There will be pain—but pain shared is pain halved, as joy shared is joy doubled, and you each must sacrifice your own comfort to share the pain of the other. And yet, you must do all this and manage to keep each other from wrong actions, for a joining means that you also pledge to help one another at all times. You must lead each other by example. Guide and be willing to be guided. Being joined does not mean that you accept what is truly wrong, being joined means that you must strive that you both remain in the light and the right. You must not pledge yourselves thinking that there will be no strife between you. That is fantasy, for you are two and not one, and there will inevitably come conflict that it will be up to you to resolve. You must not pledge yourselves thinking that all will be well from this moment on. That is a dream, and dreamers must eventually wake. You must come to this joining fully ready, fully committed, and fully respectful of each other.
Now you will no longer fear the storm, for you find shelter in each other.
Now the winter cannot harm you, for you warm each other with love.
Now when strength fails, you will be the wind to each other’s wings.
Now the darkness holds no danger, for you will be the light to each other’s path.
Now you will defy despair, for you will bring hope to each other’s heart.
Now there will be no more loneliness, for there will always be a hand reaching out to aid you when all seems darkest.
Where there were two paths, now there is one.
May your days together be long upon the earth, and each day blessed with joy in each other.
An excerpt from " The Two Towers : Being the Second Part of The Lord of the Rings" by J.R.R. Tolkien
ENT: When Spring unfolds the beechen leaf, and sap is in the bough;
When light is on the wild-wood stream, and wind is on the brow;
When stride is long, and breath is deep, and keen the mountain-air,
Come back to me! Come back to me, and say my land is fair!
ENTWIFE.: When Spring is come to garth and field, and corn is in the blade;
When blossom like a shining snow is on the orchard laid;
When shower and Sun upon the Earth with fragrance fill the air,
I*ll linger here, and will not come, because my land is fair.
ENT.: When Summer lies upon the world, and in a noon of gold
Beneath the roof of sleeping leaves the dreams of trees unfold;
When woodland halls are green and cool, and wind is in the West,
Come back to me! Come back to me, and say my land is best!
ENTWIFE. : When Summer warms the hanging fruit and burns the berry brown;
When straw is gold, and ear is white, and harvest comes to town;
When honey spills, and apple swells, though wind be in the West,
I*ll linger here beneath the Sun, because my land is best!
ENT.: When Winter comes, the winter wild that hill and wood shall slay;
When trees shall fall and starless night devour the sunless day;
When wind is in the deadly East, then in the bitter rain
I*ll look for thee, and call to thee; I*ll come to thee again!
ENTWIFE : When Winter comes, and singing ends; when darkness falls at last;
When broken is the barren bough, and light and labour past;
I*ll look for thee, and wait for thee, until we meet again:
Together we will tkae the road beneath the bitter rain!
BOTH : Together we will take the road that leads into the West,
And far away will find a land where both our hearts may rest.
posted by theora55 at 4:31 PM on September 22, 2011
I think you should print out your question and go with that.
If it were me, I wouldn't want you to quote someone else..I'd want to hear YOU.
posted by MoJoPokeyBlue at 9:52 AM on September 23, 2011
If it were me, I wouldn't want you to quote someone else..I'd want to hear YOU.
posted by MoJoPokeyBlue at 9:52 AM on September 23, 2011
There are some great suggestions here (especially the "Words to Read When You Wed" series). Many of them are poetry, but the non-poetry suggestions are solid.
posted by meevo at 12:35 PM on September 23, 2011
posted by meevo at 12:35 PM on September 23, 2011
Khalil Gibran, On Marriage:
Let there be space in your togetherness.
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.
Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other’s cup, but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread, but eat not from the same loaf.
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone, though they quiver with the same music.
Give your hearts, but not into each other’s keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.
And stand together, yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other’s shadow.
Rilke:
The point of marriage is not to create a quick commonality by tearing down all boundaries; on the contrary, a good marriage is one in which each partner appoints the other to be the guardian of his solitude, and thus they show each other the greatest possible trust. A merging of two people is an impossibility, and where it seems to exist, it is a hemming-in, a mutual consent that robs one party or both parties of their fullest freedom and development. But once the realization is accepted that even between the closest people infinite distances exist, a marvelous living side-by-side can grow up for them, if they succeed in loving the expanse between them, which gives them the possibility of always seeing each other as a whole and before an immense sky.
Homer Simpson, on weddings:
"What is a wedding? Websters dictionary defines a wedding as the process of removing weeds from one's garden."
Goethe, continuing the metaphor:
To know someone here or there with whom you can
feel there is understanding in spite of distances or
thoughts unexpressed - that can make this life a garden.
We wrote our own ceremony and used excerpts from the following (Reflections on Marriage - Daphne Rose Kingma from Weddings from the Heart: Contemporary and Traditional Ceremonies for an Unforgettable Wedding). There's plenty there for a robust reading even generously edited, with nods to personal evolution and spiritual growth:
Marriage is the joining of two lives, the mystical, physical, and emotional union of two human beings who have separate families and histories, separate tragedies and destinies. It is the merging of not only two bodies and two personalities, but also of two life stories. Two individuals willingly choose to set aside the solitary exploration of them selves to discover who they are in the presence of another.
In marriage we marry a mystery, an other, a counterpart. In a sense the person we marry is a stranger about whom we have a magnificent hunch. The person we choose to marry is someone we love, but his depths, her intimate intricacies, we will come to know only in the long unraveling of time. We know enough about our beloved to know that we will love him, to imagine that as time goes on we will come to enjoy her even more, become even more of ourselves in her presence. To our knowledge we add our willingness to embark on the journey of getting to know him, of coming to see her, ever so wonderfully more.
Swept up by attraction, attention, fantasy, hope, and a certain happy measure of recognition, we agree to come together for the mysterious future, to see where the journey will take us. This companionship on life’s journey is the hallmark of marriage, its natural province, its sweetest and most primal gift. To be married means we belong with someone else, that we are no longer always along, that we no longer must eat and sleep, dream, wake, walk, talk, think, and live alone. Instead there is a parallel presence and spirit in all that we undertake. We are bridled, connected, attended. We move in the midst of aura, the welcoming soul-filling presence of another human being, no longer facing the troubling, heart-rending hurts of our lives in isolation. In marriage we are delivered from our most ancient aloneness, embraced in the nest of human company, so that the sharp teeth of the truth that we are born and die alone are blunted by the miracle of loving companionship.
Marriage is also the incubator of love, the protected environment in which a love that is personal and touching and real can grow and, as a consequence of that growth, develop in us our highest capabilities as loving human beings. We are each still and always becoming, and when we marry, we promise not only our own becoming but also our willingness to witness and withstand the ongoing becoming of another human being. In marriage we say not only “I love you today,” but also, “I promise to love you tomorrow, the next day, and always.”
In promising always, we promise each other time. We promise to exercise our love, to stretch it large enough to embrace the unforeseen realities of the future. We promise to learn to love beyond the level of our instincts and inclinations, to love in foul weather as well as good, In hard times as well as when we are exhilarated by the pleasures of romance.
We change because of these promises. We shape ourselves according to them; we live in their midst and live differently because of them. We feel protected because of them. We try some things and resist trying others because, having promised, we feel secure. Marriage, the bond, makes us free to see, to be, to love. Our souls are protected; our hearts have come home.
In simple terms, this means because we are safe in marriage, we can risk; because we have been promised a future, we can take extraordinary chances. Because we know we are loved, we can step beyond our fears; because we have been chosen, we can transcend our insecurities. We can make mistakes, knowing we will not be cast out; take missteps, knowing someone will be there to catch us. And because mistakes and missteps are the stuff of change, of expansion, in marriage we can expand to our fullest capacity; in marriage we can heal.
Because lifetime is movement, the passage of time equals change. Therefore, when we promise time to one another, we are putting ourselves in the midst of an infinity of change. Implicitly this is also a promise to expand. We will not be cardboard men and women. We will be electric human beings with variegated histories and fabulous unknown futures.
For marriage is more than just the sentimental formalizing of a feeling; it is a vote of confidence, indeed of conviction, that the romantic feeling of love will be enlarged to encompass far more than itself, that both persons will be able, in time, and within the sacred circle of marriage, to infinitely expand.
Change compounded is transformation; and therefore one of the ultimate consequences of marriage is transformation. For so long as we live out our lives in the context of another human being, the changes that accrue in us, that are indeed inspired, required, cajoled, and beaten out of us by our interactions with another-all these will result, in time, in a major transformation of our selves. We would become someone quite different without the person we have married, for it is the alchemy of the relationship itself that transforms us. That which we become in the presence of another person-the person we love most deeply, the person we choose to marry and spend our whole life with, the person in whose presence and as a result of whose actions and inactions, words and silences causes us to change, ultimately to transform-brings us inescapably into the being of our highest selves. We become who we were meant to be.
It is precisely at the point at which marriage, the institution, and love, the emotion, intersect that there exist some of our greatest emotional and spiritual possibilities. For marriage is love in the round; marriage is loving in every direction. We marry not only to be loved, to be consoled through the miracle of company, to feel secure, to have a place and a person to whom we can come home, to have ones own needs met; we marry also to come into the presence of our own capacity to love: to nurture, to heal, to give, and to forgive.
Marriage is the fearless fathoming of our own depths, a coming face-to-face, in the dark mercurial waters of our endless self-involvement, with the jewel-like treasures of our own submerged capacities for compassion. For love received is needs met; but love delivered is compassion, is the human spirit altered, is our own most whole becoming. In loving we are encouraged to the limits of our most exquisite human possibilities.
Thus marriage is an invitation to transcend the human condition. For in stepping beyond the self-focus of wanting to have only our own needs met, in schooling ourselves in the experience of putting another human being and his or her needs in a position of equal value to our own, we touch the web of transcendence, the presence of the divine.
For loving one another is the beginning of compassion, and compassion generalized is participation in the divine -- that experience of life and of the world that paradoxically submerges us in all that exists while at the same time elevating us above it.. The compassionate, soul-changing loving of a single other human being connects us most profoundly to the All. And it is in the practice of this radiant other-discovering love that true marriage calls forth the best in us, the most we can ever become.
Have fun!
posted by Jezebella at 10:33 AM on September 25, 2011
Let there be space in your togetherness.
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.
Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other’s cup, but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread, but eat not from the same loaf.
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone, though they quiver with the same music.
Give your hearts, but not into each other’s keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.
And stand together, yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other’s shadow.
Rilke:
The point of marriage is not to create a quick commonality by tearing down all boundaries; on the contrary, a good marriage is one in which each partner appoints the other to be the guardian of his solitude, and thus they show each other the greatest possible trust. A merging of two people is an impossibility, and where it seems to exist, it is a hemming-in, a mutual consent that robs one party or both parties of their fullest freedom and development. But once the realization is accepted that even between the closest people infinite distances exist, a marvelous living side-by-side can grow up for them, if they succeed in loving the expanse between them, which gives them the possibility of always seeing each other as a whole and before an immense sky.
Homer Simpson, on weddings:
"What is a wedding? Websters dictionary defines a wedding as the process of removing weeds from one's garden."
Goethe, continuing the metaphor:
To know someone here or there with whom you can
feel there is understanding in spite of distances or
thoughts unexpressed - that can make this life a garden.
We wrote our own ceremony and used excerpts from the following (Reflections on Marriage - Daphne Rose Kingma from Weddings from the Heart: Contemporary and Traditional Ceremonies for an Unforgettable Wedding). There's plenty there for a robust reading even generously edited, with nods to personal evolution and spiritual growth:
Marriage is the joining of two lives, the mystical, physical, and emotional union of two human beings who have separate families and histories, separate tragedies and destinies. It is the merging of not only two bodies and two personalities, but also of two life stories. Two individuals willingly choose to set aside the solitary exploration of them selves to discover who they are in the presence of another.
In marriage we marry a mystery, an other, a counterpart. In a sense the person we marry is a stranger about whom we have a magnificent hunch. The person we choose to marry is someone we love, but his depths, her intimate intricacies, we will come to know only in the long unraveling of time. We know enough about our beloved to know that we will love him, to imagine that as time goes on we will come to enjoy her even more, become even more of ourselves in her presence. To our knowledge we add our willingness to embark on the journey of getting to know him, of coming to see her, ever so wonderfully more.
Swept up by attraction, attention, fantasy, hope, and a certain happy measure of recognition, we agree to come together for the mysterious future, to see where the journey will take us. This companionship on life’s journey is the hallmark of marriage, its natural province, its sweetest and most primal gift. To be married means we belong with someone else, that we are no longer always along, that we no longer must eat and sleep, dream, wake, walk, talk, think, and live alone. Instead there is a parallel presence and spirit in all that we undertake. We are bridled, connected, attended. We move in the midst of aura, the welcoming soul-filling presence of another human being, no longer facing the troubling, heart-rending hurts of our lives in isolation. In marriage we are delivered from our most ancient aloneness, embraced in the nest of human company, so that the sharp teeth of the truth that we are born and die alone are blunted by the miracle of loving companionship.
Marriage is also the incubator of love, the protected environment in which a love that is personal and touching and real can grow and, as a consequence of that growth, develop in us our highest capabilities as loving human beings. We are each still and always becoming, and when we marry, we promise not only our own becoming but also our willingness to witness and withstand the ongoing becoming of another human being. In marriage we say not only “I love you today,” but also, “I promise to love you tomorrow, the next day, and always.”
In promising always, we promise each other time. We promise to exercise our love, to stretch it large enough to embrace the unforeseen realities of the future. We promise to learn to love beyond the level of our instincts and inclinations, to love in foul weather as well as good, In hard times as well as when we are exhilarated by the pleasures of romance.
We change because of these promises. We shape ourselves according to them; we live in their midst and live differently because of them. We feel protected because of them. We try some things and resist trying others because, having promised, we feel secure. Marriage, the bond, makes us free to see, to be, to love. Our souls are protected; our hearts have come home.
In simple terms, this means because we are safe in marriage, we can risk; because we have been promised a future, we can take extraordinary chances. Because we know we are loved, we can step beyond our fears; because we have been chosen, we can transcend our insecurities. We can make mistakes, knowing we will not be cast out; take missteps, knowing someone will be there to catch us. And because mistakes and missteps are the stuff of change, of expansion, in marriage we can expand to our fullest capacity; in marriage we can heal.
Because lifetime is movement, the passage of time equals change. Therefore, when we promise time to one another, we are putting ourselves in the midst of an infinity of change. Implicitly this is also a promise to expand. We will not be cardboard men and women. We will be electric human beings with variegated histories and fabulous unknown futures.
For marriage is more than just the sentimental formalizing of a feeling; it is a vote of confidence, indeed of conviction, that the romantic feeling of love will be enlarged to encompass far more than itself, that both persons will be able, in time, and within the sacred circle of marriage, to infinitely expand.
Change compounded is transformation; and therefore one of the ultimate consequences of marriage is transformation. For so long as we live out our lives in the context of another human being, the changes that accrue in us, that are indeed inspired, required, cajoled, and beaten out of us by our interactions with another-all these will result, in time, in a major transformation of our selves. We would become someone quite different without the person we have married, for it is the alchemy of the relationship itself that transforms us. That which we become in the presence of another person-the person we love most deeply, the person we choose to marry and spend our whole life with, the person in whose presence and as a result of whose actions and inactions, words and silences causes us to change, ultimately to transform-brings us inescapably into the being of our highest selves. We become who we were meant to be.
It is precisely at the point at which marriage, the institution, and love, the emotion, intersect that there exist some of our greatest emotional and spiritual possibilities. For marriage is love in the round; marriage is loving in every direction. We marry not only to be loved, to be consoled through the miracle of company, to feel secure, to have a place and a person to whom we can come home, to have ones own needs met; we marry also to come into the presence of our own capacity to love: to nurture, to heal, to give, and to forgive.
Marriage is the fearless fathoming of our own depths, a coming face-to-face, in the dark mercurial waters of our endless self-involvement, with the jewel-like treasures of our own submerged capacities for compassion. For love received is needs met; but love delivered is compassion, is the human spirit altered, is our own most whole becoming. In loving we are encouraged to the limits of our most exquisite human possibilities.
Thus marriage is an invitation to transcend the human condition. For in stepping beyond the self-focus of wanting to have only our own needs met, in schooling ourselves in the experience of putting another human being and his or her needs in a position of equal value to our own, we touch the web of transcendence, the presence of the divine.
For loving one another is the beginning of compassion, and compassion generalized is participation in the divine -- that experience of life and of the world that paradoxically submerges us in all that exists while at the same time elevating us above it.. The compassionate, soul-changing loving of a single other human being connects us most profoundly to the All. And it is in the practice of this radiant other-discovering love that true marriage calls forth the best in us, the most we can ever become.
Have fun!
posted by Jezebella at 10:33 AM on September 25, 2011
We read this at our wedding, but it might be too Christian for you. It's by Frederick Buechner and it comes from his book Whistling in the dark:
They say they will love, comfort, honor each other to the end of their days. They say they will cherish each other and be faithful to each other always. They say they will do these things not just when they feel like it but even – for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health – when they don’t feel like it at all. In other words, the vows they make at a marriage could hardly be more extravagant. They give away their freedom. They take on themselves each other’s burdens. They bind their lives together in ways that are even more painful to unbind emotionally, humanly, than they are to unbind legally. The question is: what do they get in return?
They get each other in return. Assuming they have any success at all in keeping their rash, quixotic promises, they never have to face the world quite alone again. There will always be the other to talk to, to listen to. If they’re lucky, even after the first passion passes, they still have a kindness and patience to depend on, a chance to be patient and kind. There is still someone to get through the night with, to wake into the new day beside. If they have children, they can give them, as well as each other, roots and wings. If they don’t have children, they each become each other’s child.
They both still have their lives apart as well as a life together. They both still have their separate ways to find. But a marriage made in Heaven is one where a man and a woman become more richly themselves together than the chances are either of them could ever have managed to become alone. When Jesus changed the water into wine at the wedding in Cana, perhaps it was a way of saying more or less the same thing.
posted by islandeady at 8:16 PM on September 27, 2011
They say they will love, comfort, honor each other to the end of their days. They say they will cherish each other and be faithful to each other always. They say they will do these things not just when they feel like it but even – for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health – when they don’t feel like it at all. In other words, the vows they make at a marriage could hardly be more extravagant. They give away their freedom. They take on themselves each other’s burdens. They bind their lives together in ways that are even more painful to unbind emotionally, humanly, than they are to unbind legally. The question is: what do they get in return?
They get each other in return. Assuming they have any success at all in keeping their rash, quixotic promises, they never have to face the world quite alone again. There will always be the other to talk to, to listen to. If they’re lucky, even after the first passion passes, they still have a kindness and patience to depend on, a chance to be patient and kind. There is still someone to get through the night with, to wake into the new day beside. If they have children, they can give them, as well as each other, roots and wings. If they don’t have children, they each become each other’s child.
They both still have their lives apart as well as a life together. They both still have their separate ways to find. But a marriage made in Heaven is one where a man and a woman become more richly themselves together than the chances are either of them could ever have managed to become alone. When Jesus changed the water into wine at the wedding in Cana, perhaps it was a way of saying more or less the same thing.
posted by islandeady at 8:16 PM on September 27, 2011
The Rilke is wonderful. You could probably cobble together a reading from "Our Town."
If you wanted to be irreverent and fun and sweet and use props, you could reenact love scenes from various movies of your generation. John Cusack holding up the boombox playing "In your eyes," Renee Zellwegger saying, "You had me at hello." Etc Etc. Intermix with some weepers, and you'll have that perfect melange of funny, sweet, touching, deep, hilariousness that makes such things memorable.
Friends sang the Magnetic Fields' "book of Love" at our wedding (the slightly less dirge-y Mike Doughty version). It was about 5 minutes. If you are not musically inclined, you could just read the lyrics.
The Book of Love
The book of love is long and boring
No one can lift the damn thing
It's full of charts and facts and figures and instructions for dancing
But I..... (sustained when singing, but if reading, just say it normally, with a comma, and continue as normal.)
I love it when you read to me
And you.....
You can read me anything
The book of love has music in it
In fact that's where music comes from
Some of it is just transcendental
Some of it is just really dumb
But I.....
I love it when you sing to me
And you....
You can sing me anything
The book of love is long and boring
And written very long ago
It's full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes
And things we're all too young to know
But I....
I love it when you give me things
And you.....
You ought to give me wedding rings
And I....
I love it when you give me things
And you....
You ought to give me wedding rings
And I....
I love it when you give me things
And you...
You ought to give me wedding rings
You ought to give me wedding rings
posted by elizeh at 7:29 PM on March 22, 2012
If you wanted to be irreverent and fun and sweet and use props, you could reenact love scenes from various movies of your generation. John Cusack holding up the boombox playing "In your eyes," Renee Zellwegger saying, "You had me at hello." Etc Etc. Intermix with some weepers, and you'll have that perfect melange of funny, sweet, touching, deep, hilariousness that makes such things memorable.
Friends sang the Magnetic Fields' "book of Love" at our wedding (the slightly less dirge-y Mike Doughty version). It was about 5 minutes. If you are not musically inclined, you could just read the lyrics.
The Book of Love
The book of love is long and boring
No one can lift the damn thing
It's full of charts and facts and figures and instructions for dancing
But I..... (sustained when singing, but if reading, just say it normally, with a comma, and continue as normal.)
I love it when you read to me
And you.....
You can read me anything
The book of love has music in it
In fact that's where music comes from
Some of it is just transcendental
Some of it is just really dumb
But I.....
I love it when you sing to me
And you....
You can sing me anything
The book of love is long and boring
And written very long ago
It's full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes
And things we're all too young to know
But I....
I love it when you give me things
And you.....
You ought to give me wedding rings
And I....
I love it when you give me things
And you....
You ought to give me wedding rings
And I....
I love it when you give me things
And you...
You ought to give me wedding rings
You ought to give me wedding rings
posted by elizeh at 7:29 PM on March 22, 2012
This thread is closed to new comments.
posted by Madamina at 9:00 AM on September 22, 2011