Marriage is in trouble, yes, eroded by casual cohabitation, haunted by abortion, battered by divorce, redefined by rogue judges. And no, it isn’t enough to say with a world-weary air that it has always been thus—there has never been a Golden Age of Marriage—for that’s a partial truth, useful as a corrective to apocalyptic rhetoric but hardly adequate to the unprecedented realities of this time and place. Still, praise God, as Greg Brown growls in his “Marriage Chant,” marriage muddles on: “Marriage is impossible, marriage is dull / Your dance card is empty, your plate is too full / It’s something no sensible person would do / I wish I was married / I wish I was married, to you.”
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