New York Times Modern Love: Gin and Toxic

This week's Modern Love column is Kevin Callahane's recap on a life rescued from - and saved by - the clutches of alcoholism. While the general topic deals directly with the author's own struggle with a terrible affliction, the heart of this article deals lies in self-discovery, responsibility, and redemption. This contrasts with the finger-pointing, closed-minded judgment, and ignorant self-justification of the most recent columns in this series.

Kevin starts out hitting rock bottom, by being an unreliable person (missing a date) and severely offending - and hurting - someone whom he cares about deeply. In his struggle to try to make up for his failure, he finds both his fatal flaw and his angel. For Julie, the muse for this love letter (or at least that half of this essay), recovers maturely from her own justified anger and reaches out to Kevin:

"You're an alcoholic," she said, not unkindly. "You need help."

Although Kevin was young and wretched at the time, Julie's love overcomes his self-destructive tendencies and leads him on the path to eventual recovery.

Well, that's not literally true. It seems that Julie admired Kevin in some way back then, but it's not entirely clear that she loved him or that she tried really hard to drag him along. Kevin makes it seem that he was infatuated with Julie, and that his somewhat accidental start on the path of recovery was a result of the crush he was keeping inside. Then again, it seems that this was one of the many attempts that Kevin uses to "humanize" himself along the course of this essay, and the frequency in which this is done sends another message entirely. As an unreliable narrator, not to mention a potentially harmful person, Kevin's attempts at "humanizing" himself seem to be exercises in self-deprecation that are literary equivalents of cutting one's self for pleasure. (which, interestingly, also happens physically in the course of the essay) One could conclude, in the end, that Kevin is not nearly as error-prone, hapless, and unguided as he makes himself out to be.

The happy ending is that Kevin recovers from his alcoholism and enters a loving, happy marriage with Julie. (all together now: awwwwwwww!) In what must be listed as a great success in the annals of substance abuse recovery, he confidently expresses that his sobriety is an effortless journey and a welcome part of his life. His final thought, however, is part philosophy and part self-destructive romanticism:

The thing is, would [Julie] and I ever have gotten together if I hadn't been a drowning alcoholic in need of her outstretched hand? Sometimes I can't help but wonder if the burdens we carry don't end up carrying us.

As Kevin feels that his addiction was a necessary part of his life - because for some reason it made sense to him in the past to self-destruct - he tries to use his ends to justify the means, as if this validated all the trouble he went through to get to this point. He doesn't champion alcoholism, but he validates his own demolition. I don't judge him for this, but I would like to take this opportunity to reassure Kevin that, from this essay alone, I believe he is a wonderful and special person who deserves only the good things that he has earned for himself - and none of the bad things that he has wisely left in his past.

The interesting parallels of this essay to the other recent Modern Love essays is that the authors are heavily engaged with themselves, initially there is a romantically glorified target of affection/interest, the author comes to a sad realization, a schism occurs, and ultimately the author is flawed. It's just that in this case, the tables are turned and the author focuses all of the criticism and judgment within, and the author is down-to-earth enough to be cognizant of his own flaws. This is why I appreciate Kevin, and this essay, far better than anything or anyone we've seen in this column over the past three weeks.

Hey, sometimes it's nice to be happy to read these things.