A cross-cultural
analysis of bondage in marriage
by
Howard
Richler
Ever since cavemen stopped
dragging away unwilling
partners by the hair, marriage has been a knotty situation. For
example, the climax of a Hindu ceremony arrives when the garments of
the bride and groom are tied together and,
bound in this manner, the knotted couple walk round a holy fire.
Chinese Buddhists revere the deity Yue-laoum who unites all
predestined couples with a silken cord insuring that the union will
be consummated. Since 1275,
“tying the knot” has also
been a symbol at
weddings in England. Traditionally, the ribbons in a bridal bouquet
would be knotted as a symbol of the solemn bond of marriage. John
Ray, a 17th
century naturalist quipped, “He had tied a knot with his tongue he
can’t untie with his teeth.” It seems to me that Ray was
equating bonding with bondage.
Bonding, however, ocurs
in other marriage rituals. Before my daughter Jennifer was married
some years ago in a traditional Jewish ceremony, a ketuvah
“marriage
contract”
was signed by the couple and witnessed by two friends. This contract
is ordained by Talmudic law and according to some authorities dates
back to Biblical times.The ketuvah, written
in Aramaic, details the husband's obligations to his wife: food,
clothing, dwelling and pleasure. It also creates a lien on all his
property (there is even a reference to the shirt from the husband’s
back) to pay her a sum of money and support should he (OY VAY!)
divorce her, or predecease her. The document has the standing of a
legally binding agreement that in many countries is enforceable by
secular law.
In the
marriage ceremony itself, Jennifer and her spouse Noah repeated
their vows underneath a chuppah,
a Hebrew
word
which means “canopy.”
The chuppah
is a decorated piece of cloth held aloft
as a symbolic home for the new couple. With so many terms from Hebrew
and Yiddish being recorded in the OED,
I wasn’t totally surprised to find an
entry for the word “chuppah.”
What was surprising, however, was the first citation of the word
coming from George Eliot’s 1876 novel Daniel
Deronda.
Noah intoned to Jennifer these Hebrew words: Harei at mikudeshet li, b'taba'at zo k'dat Moshe v'Yisrael which translates as “Behold, you are consecrated to me by this token according to the laws/traditions of Moses and Israel.” In turn, Jennifer announced to the throng, Ani l'dodi v'dodi li “I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine.”
Noah intoned to Jennifer these Hebrew words: Harei at mikudeshet li, b'taba'at zo k'dat Moshe v'Yisrael which translates as “Behold, you are consecrated to me by this token according to the laws/traditions of Moses and Israel.” In turn, Jennifer announced to the throng, Ani l'dodi v'dodi li “I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine.”
I remember cringing at
the wedding when an
inebriated relative asked me if I was comfortable in my penguin suit.
This lexicographically-challenged chap was obviously not aware that
the tuxedo’s origin is not tied to a puny penguin but to a wild
wolf. A tuxedo is so named because in 1890, the dress code at the
local country club in Tuxedo Park, 65 kilometers from New York
City, dictated that gentlemen wear a tailless dinner jacket at most
nightly affairs. This was known as a tuxedo coat until matching
trousers were added to the ensemble which came to be
known as a tuxedo. The connection to the wolf does not relate to the
lasciviousness of these posh men
but rather to the manner in which Tuxedo Park acquired its name.
The P’tuksit were a
subtribe of the Delawares who lived along the western shore of the
Hudson River and the name literally means “round-footed,”
an allusion to the wolf. In the 18th
century American settlers gave the name of the P’tuksit, anglicized
as Tuxedo, to a village in southeastern New York and by 1880 Tuxedo
Park on the shore of Tuxedo Lake became a fashionable resort of the
very wealthy.
Let me conclude by hoping
that all of this summer's brides and grooms are bound together in
happiness.
Howard's book From Happy to Homosexual and other mysterious semantic
shifts will
be published by Ronsdale Press next Spring.
hrichler@gmail.com
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