It's Wedding Week at Jezebel! Not only are Anna, Jennie and Moe all headed — bliss! — to far-flung festivals of monogamy this warm weekend, Moe will be handing over her blogger reins to an altarbound friend for the duration, and wheedling a guest column out of her little brother, who last week proposed to his girlfriend of three months. (Yeah, he was drunk.) In this installment we examine the sick appeal of watching someone else's dysfunctional marriage fail. Which, um, we don't think has much of an appeal.
Because unlike the addictively depressing Ladies Home Journal feature by the same name I relished so much as a strep-prone child, this story did not merely portray a colossally resentful couple in therapy to save their painfully uncommunicative-but-codependent bond, it focused on a "support group" of distraught couples in counseling who all sit around and watch:
Perhaps because of what they shared, the young wife was the first member of the group to plainly criticize what she saw happening between Marie and Clem, although not until midway through the year. "As a person who's known you for six months," she told them wearily, and a little tearily, "it's brutal listening to you."