Marriages are going down the drain at an alarming rate. Many of those that seem to be surviving are fraught with terrible tensions and anxieties. Thus, it seems foolhardy on my part to sing the praises of what some people refer to contemptuously as "an institution." Yet, despite all this damning evidence, I still believe that the marital relationship can be the most profoundly satisfying of all. And there are more than a few happy couples who would agree with me.

Marriage can be the most beautiful friendship imaginable, embracing two human beings in their totality, i.e., in both body and spirit, a friendship that expands and deepens through time. An enduring relationship can, of course, begin with a powerful sensual attraction, and it often does. As my late mother once said when referring to a cousin of my in his thirties who married a girl of seventeen: "It might have been sex that attracted them to one another. Some people go for it, you know." However, a marriage founded primarily on sexual gratification will rarely last. It will burn swiftly and brightly like a fire of straw, and then burn itself out. To attain longevity it must involve the heart and mind far more than the body, and the first two must dominate, as they do in any authentic friendship. They will provide the solid undergirding for the relationship. They will enable the two partners to create an enduring commitment to one another. And, as strange as it may seem, it is this commitment that will always recharge the couple's erotic batteries.

At this point a skeptic might ask: "What about problems, conflicts, clashes of wills, even crises between the two individuals?" There may be lots of these, as is almost inevitable in any long-term relationship. My late mother-in-law once said that every marriage worth its salt has a few really good fights. But I maintain, however paradoxical this may sound, that all of these hardships that can bedevil a marriage can also strengthen it immeasurably. The couple should see in conflicts the opportunity to pool their resources in order to re-establish the harmony between them. Facing daunting obstacles and overcoming them together is part of the adventure of life. The more they succeed, the deeper their relationship becomes, and, consequently, the stronger the love they will feel for each other. Marriage is a work in progress; the more you contribute to it, the more beautiful it becomes. Or, to use another comparison, love can be a magnificent bonfire, but it is a bonfire that has to be fed constantly, otherwise it will peter out.

Naturally, the couple will change during the course of their marriage, just as all of us change during our lives. The important thing, though, is for both partners to remain flexible enough to accommodate these changes in each other's personality. In a sense, the two people involved in a marriage have to choose each other again and again during the time that they live with one another. But there is nothing to fear from this kind of change. Renewing their commitment to one another will revitalize it.

Now please understand. I am not minimizing the dangers that any marriage can face, nor am I denying that some relationships become so distended and debilitated that they simply cannot go on. The important thing, however, is to give your marriage your best shot. If you have chosen well to begin with, and agreed to fight hard for what you believe in, there is every reason to hope you will be amply rewarded.

Author's Bio: 

Leonard Rosmarin is Professor Emeritus of French literature and former Chair of the Department of Modern Languages at Brock University in the Niagara Region of Ontario, Canada. He received his Doctorate from Yale University where he began his teaching career in 1964, then was appointed Assistant Professor at Wesleyan University, also in Connecticut.

Leonard has become a novelist rather late in life, at the ripe old age of 70 when he wrote his first fiction novel, Getting Enough. Why did it take so long? Here is how he relates his unusual trajectory: "For literally decades I had wanted to immortalize my over-the-top, larger-than-life Jewish family. They were refreshingly un-hypocritical. In fact, they were always brutally frank. They would never stab you in the back; it was always in the chest. So at least you knew where the blows were coming from. They were absolutely transparent. What you see was what you got. You can visit Leonard Rosmarin at http://www.LeonardRosmarin.com