Not Permanently Harmed, But Severely Chastened

The Rock
Louise Gluck

Insignia
of the earth's
terrible recesses, spirit
of darkness, of
the criminal mind, I feel
certain there is within you
something human, to be
approached in speech. How else
did you approach Eve
with your addictive
information? I have paid
bitterly for her
lapse, therefore
attend to me. Tell me
how you live in hell,
what is required in hell,
for I would send
my beloved there. Not
of course forever:
I may want him
back sometime, not
permanently harmed but
severely chastened,
as he has not been, here
on the surface. What
shall I give him for
protection, what
shield that will not
wholly screen him? You must be
his guide and master: help him
shed his skin
as you do, though in this case
we want him
older underneath, maybe
a little mousy. I feel confident
you understand these
subtleties--you seem
so interested, you do not
slide back under your rock! Oh
I am sure we are somehow related
even if you are not
human; perhaps I have
the soul of a reptile after all.

Oh, long-suffering, brilliant Penelope! Idealized, ever-faithful wife!

How wonderful to imagine that, in your heart of hearts, you aren't just overjoyed to see Odysseus return - you love him, yes, you are happy about his return, yes, you admire his bravery and confidence, yes, but of course you also want to punish him for his selfishness, thoughtlessness, varied betrayals. You want him to grow up, to mature from the golden child beloved by the gods into a man worthy of you.

The central questions and images of this poem have always stood out to me, but now they're personally relevant on a whole new level:

Tell me
how you live in hell,
what is required in hell,
for I would send
my beloved there. Not
of course forever:
I may want him
back sometime, not
permanently harmed but
severely chastened,
as he has not been, here
on the surface. What
shall I give him for
protection, what
shield that will not
wholly screen him?

Indeed.

I've been thinking a lot about "punishment" lately. In my personal life, my therapist and our marriage counselor have been helping me distinguish between when I am doing something to punish Drew and when I am doing something to promote my own healing, with the unspoken presumption that these two states are mutually exclusive and the spoken presumption that I should aim to avoid the former. Simultaneously, in my professional life, I am researching the theories of criminal law - there, however, punishment is seen as necessary, both in and of itself, as a form of deterrence, and as a way of reassuring the victim that the world is just and fair. (Which, of course, it isn't. But that's one of the aims of law - to impose order and fairness in an unjust world.)

I'm far from a final conclusion on this, but right now I tend to think that punishment for the sake of punishment is necessary, for both the betrayer and betrayed. For the betrayer, to truly internalize that actions have consequences. For the betrayed, to regain some sense of equilibrium, equality. I tend to react defensively when anyone labels anything I do as "punishing" Drew, to insist to myself and them that it's not - but sometimes it actually is punishment, and right now I don't think that is always problematic. Certain actions should be punished.

That being said, there is such a thing as cutting off your nose to spite your face. Don't divorce someone - if you don't otherwise want to - to punish them. (My sister once implied that I would need to divorce Drew for him to realize how hurtful his actions were - which was coming from her own need to punish him.) Don't go cold shoulder or rage when what you actually want is connection - it's reactive, it will feel good in the short run, but it doesn't get you to the place you actually want to be.

There is also such a thing as too much punishment. Not because the "crime" in this case doesn't warrant heavy consequences, not because the cheater thinks they've suffered enough, but rather because it can't be healthy to be in a relationship with that as the foundational dynamic. If that's what a future with Drew entails, I don't want it - I feel like it would rot my soul. (Nor, notwithstanding how much he wants to stay together, would he stay in such a relationship - and I respect that.) I want my girls to grow up with me modeling a healthy, loving, trusting relationship. More and more, I think I would like that to be with Drew. Which means, at some point, I need to stop punishing him.

I know Drew would say he's been punished sufficiently - by seeing me suffer, by the public shaming of having told most of our friends and family members about this, by having had to move out. By having to live with having done what he did for the rest of his life. Part of me can recognize what he's gone through - that he has been through hell, without a shield, that he has been severely chastened. Part of me - the vengeful, injured part - wants to keep him there until he's utterly broken, permanently harmed.

Clearly, I am a bit too - ahem - emotionally involved to judge our situation dispassionately. So, for now, I'll listen to my therapist and our counselor.