Marivaux's world placed certain obstacles in the path of romantic satisfaction -- much like we do today. In short, love needed to be authenticated and the worthiness of the suitor be proved, by three standards, or qualities of character. Note, these are all subjective and weighed solely by the emotions of the main "love interest" in the plot -- what is required before surrender may even be thought of. As it should be and still is today. We find these to be fascinating and believe in their universal applicability in our time, 250 years later. So here they are!
Marivaudage in conversation, and the correspondingly subtle actions of the character who petitions the heart of another, must master these three : 1. sincerity -- or intensity of the passion; 2. nobility -- or the ability to transcend one's need for the beloved; and 3. refinement -- or the ability to converse and conduct oneself with elegance. All three are inter-related: refinement of expression while possessed by intense unfulfilled longing (sincere passion) demonstrates nobility.
Though these may remain unstated or unconscious, they in fact constitute the key because they embody the expectations of persons of quality, today as in the past.
Dorante's mission in Le Jeu de l'Amour et du Hazard (see the example of marivaudage) is, first, to become "addictive" -- to become the access, for Silvia, of a vision of a world to which she herself might not have dared to aspire -- to infect her with his ardor (the sincerity of passion test);
second, to show that he is addicted to her and yet he remains free (the nobility of character test) -- to show that Silvia is what will make him happy and yet he is unwilling to force the issue . . . to love and not to be the slave of love -- to be desirous of being, romantically speaking, the slave of Silvia without needing to be;
and third, all the while maintaining a delicate and detached attitude, showing his poise and wit (the refinement of the means of seduction test).
These three tests are -- viewed from another angle -- techniques, or better yet, instinctive methods in the Hunt for the Heart. In today's power-culture, let us never neglect the second one, or the nobility test demonstrating one's independence and detachment: the person who is too dependent on the beloved becomes to that measure less magnetic and less attractive.
The Abbé has described marivaudage as a form of hypnotic trance, a spell that demands self-discipline and the ability to refuse traps that one's own lower instincts may present. "Bizarre as it may sound to you," the Abbé said once, "the lover, like the monk, must master a certain asceticism!"
In response to the objection that marivaudage sounds a lot like manipulation and mind games, and not at all like "real love", he has also noted that people do not generally like to admit, or even to recall, the true ruthlessness and naked ambition of the heart -- willingness to use almost any ruse, to cut off competitors as coldbloodedly as a duck hawk shreds its prey -- as it pursues the beloved. Is it not always said that men only want that which they cannot have? Is this less true with women? Keeping the other person fascinated has been part of every seducer's toolkit for a long time. What do our sophisticated visitors think? Stay tuned.
Saint-Sulpice solicits your feedback on this important question. And how do you think you would do on the three tests ?
"Dear visitor", the Abbé once remarked,
"we drink many wines at Saint-Sulpice!
Contemplation of God, contemplation of the beloved . . ."