Elridge Cleaver and love letters in "Soul on Ice"

Here is a question that elicits information about the respondent: "What is the meaning of 'comparison'? More specifically, what do people mean when they say, 'compare yourself with so and so'?"

The question came up because you, once again, were exasperated beyond relief by the stupid and simplistic attitude and answer of a certain interlocutor. First, she didn't listen well. Second, she didn't take time, as usual, to formulate a measured, thoughtful answer; she just blurted out whatever came to her mind. Third, she became argumentative when you pointed out the error of her mode of thinking. Being defensive and argumentative instead of acknowledging the soundness of the arguments of her debater was by and in of itself a sign of stupidity and intellectual and emotional retardation.

To compare means to find out the similarities and differences. To use the phrase "to compare and contrast" is a sign that the speaker is stupid or insensitive to the nuances of the English language because the meaning of "to compare" already implies the component "to contrast".

To compare oneself with another person is to undertake a process to find out the similarities and differences one has vis-a-vis the other. As simple as that, it does not necessarily imply to compete.

What does this have anything to do with Elridge Cleaver and the three (two written by EC) love letters in the book "Soul on Ice"?

You have always fancied that you can write beautiful love letters in English. This aptitude has won you the affection and love of several educated women whose native tongue is English. They even expressed marvel at your ability to render your thoughts and torturous feelings in a borrowed tongue. But when you came across the two letters written by EC, a black prisoner, to his white civil rights lawyer, you were floored by EC's ability to handle English. His words are deep, lyrical, and grippingly beautiful. You admitted that the black dude was better than you. Reading those letters has always brought you peace, joy, and pleasant memories. You don't love those women anymore and they no longer love you, but the sentiments and sensations you experienced when you expressed them are always part of you and make you feel good of who you are. You also recognize, somewhat belatedly, that romantic love is truly conditional. The object must always stay worthy of the love one has for him/her, otherwise love will wither and die. This recognition of the temporality of romantic love has helped you come to terms with the issue of acceptance and rejection.

Truth can be elusive. Sometimes we must work very hard to get it. Romantic love is a very slippery truth.

Roberto Wissai