This evening, K and I finished out the day watching Iris, a film about the British writer Iris Murdoch. I know little about Murdoch, and I’ve never read any of her work, but the film stars Dame Judi Dench, so I thought it couldn’t be that bad, and it really wasn’t. Dench does a good job, as always, and it’s a tough thing, I would imagine, portraying a lively mind sinking into Alzheimer’s. It got me to research Murdoch, though, and I found a curious quote attributed to her about marriage:

I have a strong memory of an interview between Murdoch and the writer A.N. Wilson in which, when asked about her marriage, she replied: “Oh well; I love, and am loved.” She also informed Wilson that the benefit of marriage is being able to take the other for granted. (Source)

The article is entitled “The secrets of Iris Murdoch and John Bayley’s unconventional marriage,” and the article reveals that “She was apparently very sexual, and not only with John; he, perhaps, was less interested in matters carnal.” In short, she had multiple affairs, apparently fairly openly, throughout their marriage. In the film, Murdoch says to Bayley early in their romance, when he has just discovered her unfaithfulness, which she freely admits, that he just has to accept her as she is. She’s not willing to change for him, in other words. While that might be admirable in some areas, in sexual promiscuity I find it a bit selfish, and I found myself wondering at the end of the film if that’s what she meant in the interview (I researched as the film uncoiled) about being able to “take the other for granted.”

I take so much for granted it’s not even humorous in the slightest. I take for granted that I will have a dry place to stay when the rain pours and pours as it has for the last several days. I take it for granted that I will walk up and see my wife and children in the morning and carry on my life like normal. I take for granted that I can slip downstairs late one evening, occasionally light a cigar and pour a little libation, and write.

I take for granted that my family will have food to eat, and that if, after returning home from inspecting the neighborhood during a let-up in the downpour, we decide to have mac and cheese for lunch, that we can do just that. And I take for granted that I can take all these things for granted.

And that is probably why I have always been somewhat obsessed by time and its passing. Like so many others, I get into the habit of taking things for granted, and when they come to an end, as this year is or as our extended holiday break is, I realize unconsciously that I’ve taken it for granted and not made the most of it. At least I did. Having children changed that to a degree

I learned to be aware of each passing moment because it was just that, a passing moment. This is especially true since the birth of E. The Girl’s first years showed me how one can grow accustomed to — take for granted — the little quirks a child exhibits as she grows and then suddenly, one realizes that the child has outgrown that quirk.

Now I’m still obsessed with time, but the obsession has changed. No longer do I find myself thinking, “This wonderful experience is ending, and I’m not sure anything coming will ever be as magnificent as this,” for that was how I framed my taking-for-granted nature. Instead, I find myself shocked at how quickly time as passed, regretting slightly the moments I’ve taken for granted and more determined not to do it any more.