Sex and Love in the Sorrow of War and the Unbearable Lightness of Being

Authors Avatar

In what manner and to what purpose are love and sex presented as discrete in Ninh’s The Sorrow of War and Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being.

        It is rare to find two such dissimilar entities so irrevocably entwined. Sacred, fragile and emotional, love inhabits a higher plane, while carnal activity is rough, dirty and basic. The steps taken to distance ourselves from our simian cousins and amoebic forefathers seem altogether futile when potential sexual activity can still reduce us as a species to primitive cavemen hell-bent on procreation. However, by connecting the two in our concept of marriage, we are able to elevate this nasty pleasantry to love’s higher plane. Nonetheless, in moving towards secular society, giving into temptation or consciously desecrating moral codes of old, the fragile trial separation of intimacy and sex increasingly coagulates. It is perhaps no coincidence that Bao Ninh’s the Sorrow of War and Milan Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being, both having been published in the last fifty years, present this separation. However, while Kundera seems content to describe without prejudice, Ninh’s presentation of this separation shows fundamental moral disapproval, indicating the vital disparity that characterises the two texts.

        The great love story of the Sorrow of War is one painted with nostalgia, disappointment and a pathetic sense of beautiful disaster. ‘Ordinary love’, as Kien refers to it, is rapt with nonsense and petty elations. With a sense of nostalgia, Kien notes, ‘Those were the days when all of us were young, pure and sincere.’  Most intrinsic is this purity of lien. Never consummated, Kien and Phuong’s relationship is ‘so intimate, so perfect, that it made [Kien] ache’, grieving him years on, while the reader is drawn into the immeasurable sadness of a very two-dimensional relationship. There is a conscious effort, in fact, to maintain this purity on Kien’s part: while Phuong tempts, teases and cajoles, he ‘dared not accept her challenge to make love to her.’ As the text’s central romantic relationship, it is difficult to belittle, yet its sheer impotence is ridiculous. Kien and Phuong, while soul-mates, are nonetheless teenagers and, should the rest of his life not have been rooted in disaster, this little love-story might have ended in a mere spat. War having destroyed this possibility, her ‘beautiful youth’ manifests itself as a symbol of the ‘lost opportunities’ of his youthful love. By presenting to us their tragedy, Ninh intimates his disapproval on some aspect of their coupling. Could this be a warning nod on the pointless exaltation and frivolities of teenage love? Is pubescence is an unfit state for love? Kien talks of their romance as being ‘tinged with painful forebodings of disaster’: while it is in fact the war that provokes this disaster, why should it not have been the painful process of maturity? This may also be comment on what happens should love and sex be separated. As sexual connection gets taken out of love’s equation, Ninh presents to us a rather hollow liaison which, while heart-rendingly exquisite in its desperate purity, remains a hopeless what-could-have-been, infiltrating Kien’s dreams even in adulthood.

Join now!

        This sexless situation is unapparent in the Unbearable Lightness of Being; Tomas’s libidinous nature perhaps preventing it even as a concept. Where we can draw parallels, however, is in the relationship of Tomas and Tereza for, despite its sexual dimension, it is able to retain a degree of purity. As Tereza seeks spiritual elevation through culture, her sexual relationships too generate a flurry of emotional depth which succeed in pushing them to almost virginal heights. Her innocence and hope also contribute to this. As no serious prior relationship is mentioned in the text, it is possible that Tereza’s expectations of ...

This is a preview of the whole essay