The Theology of Dad ponders romance

Here's an excerpt to get you on over to read the whole post:

Perhaps I'm asking this because Valentine's Day is coming up. It's not my conscious motivation though. I think it's coming from the fact that we have been reading a lot about Ps. Dionysius's influence on St. Thomas' Summa Theologica... but I did start dating Anne-Marie around this time of the year... Aaaaaw.
I often ask this question when we come to speak about the passion of love in the Summa (we are not there yet). Aquinas asks some interesting questions about it. In question 28 of the "first part of the second part" of the Summa, he asks:
1. Is union an effect of love? 2. Is mutual indwelling an effect of love? 3. Is ecstasy an effect of love? 4. Is zeal an effect of love? 5. Is love a passion that is hurtful to the lover? 6. Is love cause of all that the lover does? 
I find this especially interesting because he was writing in that very peculiar age of the courtly romance (Dante lay not too far off in the future). How was Thomas influenced by them? Was he? - he seems so serious? They were serious too, those love-mad troubadours, but not about the same things he was. Now, if you have studied my bio page on Blogger, you'll note that I included the worst offender of all as one of my favourite books, Dante's La Vita Nuova. This is basically a poem which recounts the history of his love for Beatrice. I got to tell you, you'll either love it or hate it. People are often surprised by the fact that I love it. 
I find romance such an odd creature. Ask my wife, I'm not all that romantic. No, don't. 
And yet...
If you know anything about the Catholic mystical tradition, you know that the fave book of that hunta was the Song of Songs, ever since Origen, and all the way up to St. John of the Cross.
It is about intimacy and passion. It is deeply sexual. Monks being interested in it screams sublimation, and that, I think, is okay. But - and hopefully you'll never have to endure the literature I had to endure on this subject while I was a history undergrad at Dalhousie - there is a line that needs to be drawn. Those feminists we were forced to read loved to describe St. Theresa of Avila's mystical experiences as orgasmic, for instance. They weren't conscious of any other part of man than the material, it seems.