Is Genius Celibate?

CERTAIN authors have denied that woman is a help for man at least intellectually and often also morally. They claim that feminine contact and the demands of the home weaken the strong. The words of the physiologist, Garnier, “genius is celibate” have been capitalized on by some.

One of the great advocates of this thesis is Tolstoi, who did not hesitate fourteen months after his marriage to have one of the characters in his book, “War and Peace” say, “Never marry, never, my friend. That is my advice. Do not marry, at least not before you can say to yourself that you have accomplished the whole of your destiny before discovering woman such as she is. Otherwise you will be cruelly disillusioned. Marry when you are no longer anything but an old man, good for nothing; otherwise all there is of good and noble in you will perish; all will be spent in little things. Yes, if in the future you expect anything of yourself, you will feel that all is finished for you, except the parlor where you will be on the same footing as a court valet or a fool . . . My wife is an admirable woman. She is one of those rare women with whom one can be tranquil about his honor, but, my God, what would I not give not to be married . . . You are the first person, the only person to whom I say that, because I love you.”

Tolstoi himself left his home to escape from this sad sensation of a missed life.

The part that is true about all this is that for certain individuals and in certain careers the choice of a companion for life is of paramount importance.

Ozanam, who was a professor at the Sorbonne, wondered if he would ever find the woman of his dream; not only someone who would love him, but someone who would understand him; be willing to see him buried in books and apparently neglect her to keep company with ideas; someone who in the intimate converse of conjugal life would not be silent, unintelligent, or unreceptive but capable of taking an interest in her husband’s studies and even help him in his work.

Jean du Plessis de Grenedan, a marine officer, used to wonder if he would ever find the woman he hoped for; a woman who would accept the career of her husband and not melt into tears at every leave-taking as if her husband heartlessly went away to make her suffer; who would not, except for serious reasons unbiased by whim, require him to give up going to sea and accept a land commission; someone who would not be depressed during his long absences.

Because of a too selfish idea of home-life, some women do weaken their husbands, hamper their vocation, their profession, or their apostolate. They have that type of jealousy that considers all that is not given to them as stolen from them. They are satisfied only if they can keep the chosen one of their heart always with them and have him constantly at their feet.

A wife should stimulate and encourage but never paralyze.