We are herd creatures, who tend to think and behave in conformity with the prejudices of the masses. Plato called the admiration of the masses the Great Beast. The philosopher Simon Weil, in Gravity and Grace, wrote that this evil beast, the collective, is the object of all idolatry, is what chains and binds us to earth. In the case of avarice: gold is of the social order. In the case of ambition: power is of the social order. Science and art too are steeped in the social element, Weil wrote. “And love? Love is more or less the exception: that is why we can go to God through love, not through avarice and ambition.”
Almost everything we do is done within the social order. Love, in its pure sense, is one of our only opportunities to transcend this order, to be who we are. It is the most intimate act and therefore also the most anarchic. The place where any convention, norm or demand could be abolished. The search for truth and goodness is always personal. And so is love.
Roland Barthes wrote about the ability of love to be enclosed within itself, independent and uninfluenced by anything external: “I inhabit no other space but the amorous duel: not an atom outside, hence not an atom of gregarity: I am crazy, not because I am original (a crude ruse of conformity), but because I am severed from all sociality.” One could say that the lover is closer than anyone else to the mystics of antiquity, who have cut themselves off from any religious or social establishment, not confronting or contesting. Barth wrote: “quite simply, I have no dialogue with the instruments of power, of thought, of knowledge, of action … I belong to no repertoire, participate in no asylum.” The true lover does not belong to any broad discourse, be it psychological, religious, Marxist. He has no philosophical system to belong to. He is completely cut off, and goes beyond any existing order. He overcame the great beast.