(Spoiler warning: This piece discusses major plot points in the play as well as its conclusion)
I just read Dinner with Friends by Donald Margulies via a recommendation on LinkedIn.
The Pulitzer prizewinning play, first staged in 1998, is a realistic reflection of the need for greater marital literacy through sustaining and nurturing more fulfilling marriages that lead to happier societies.
Different dimensions of divorce are accurately captured in Margulies’ work – from the unnecessary pain individuals and couples go through in their marriages because of the lack of marital literacy in society, to the need for greater supportiveness from communities around couples going through marital struggles.
Most crucially, it emphasises the importance of averting or preventing divorce contagion before it consumes communities.
This refers to the way in which divorce spreads through social networks, increasing the likelihood of a couple divorcing if their close friends or family members have done so.
Research suggests this phenomenon stems from the normalisation of divorce through social norms, attitudes and emotional support systems, by making decoupling seem like the default or only option in cases that do not involve abuse or harm.
The risk of divorce contagion increases with social proximity – for instance, an immediate friend’s divorce significantly increases an individual’s risk of it affecting their marriage by around 75%.
Depictions in the play
In Dinner with Friends, this idea is foreshadowed early in Act 1.
When Beth confides that Tom, her husband, is leaving her, it plants the seed of doubt in the minds of their close friends, Karen and Gabe:
Beth He says I ignored all the signs, I didn’t “hear” him… I mean, if only he’d talked to me, really talked to me. He was moody. Yes. Distracted. I thought it was work. Or jet lag… I’d find him staring off into space and ask him what he was thinking and he’d always say, “Nothing”.
Karen looks at Gabe; that sounds familiar.
Gabe (defensively) What.
Karen shakes her head.
(Act 1, Scene 1, pp. 13-14)This moment of discomfort marks the start of how Karen and Gabe’s own sense of stability in their marriage is shaken, as suggested through Gabe’s defensive tone resulting from the implicit perception of accusation from the way Karen looks at him.
Karen’s response to Gabe’s insecurity does not help the situation either. It is unclear if it is meant to reassure – as if to say “Nevermind” – or if it conveys resignation – as if to say, “Forget it; you won’t get it”.
Regardless, the inability of both parties to soothe or calm each other amid an already fraught situation contributes to the building tension in both the atmosphere of the play as well as their marriage.
By the end of Act 1, when Tom and Gabe’s conversation ends, the latter starts to reflect on his own marriage, with the suggestion he has begun to view it negatively:
Tom waves good-bye. He goes. We hear his car pull away. Gabe turns off the lamps. He sits. He is deep in thought, in near darkness for a moment. Then a hall light comes on.
Karen (offstage, from the hall) Gabe?
Gabe Yeah?
Karen (offstage) So? How was that?
Gabe Okay.
Karen (offstage) Come to bed and tell me.
Gabe In a minute.
He lingers, looking around the dark room, which suddenly feels cold and strange to him.
Karen (offstage) Honey?
Gabe (calls out) Coming.
Gabe remains seated as the lights fade.
(Act 1, Scene 3, p. 42)The “near darkness” symbolises alienation and loneliness as the underlying emotional distance between Karen and Gabe starts to become more apparent, reinforced by the subsequent image of Gabe peering into the empty darkness.
Moreover, despite Karen’s tender calls to Gabe to go to her, Gabe’s hesitation through his choice to stay seated suggests apprehension, where the rupture in his friends’ marriage has become a mirror to his own vulnerable state of mind.
Finally, at the end of the play, Karen and Gabe’s conversation about the state of their own marriage reveals how Beth and Tom’s divorce has shaped their worldview too:
Karen Why?
Gabe (shrugs) It's... I think it’s .. You know: having kids... having to pay the mortgage... making the deadline... marinating the snapper…
Karen (tears in her eyes) Don't you ever miss me, Gabe?
Gabe (surprised by her sudden emotion) What?
Karen Don't you ever miss me?
Gabe Oh, God, honey, yes. Sure I miss you. I miss you a lot.
Karen (almost childlike) How do we not get lost?
(Act 2, Scene 4, pp. 85-86)Here, as Karen questions Gabe’s acceptance of the convention that marriages “inevitably” end up stale and unhappy, Gabe’s belief in this as well as his response is telling.
It underscores how the normalisation of divorce as well as divorce contagion has affected him, where his use of parallelism in the asyndetic listing of examples to justify his beliefs suggest not only a fixed mindset but also two possible outcomes.
Perhaps he may be prepared to endure an unfulfilling and unsatisfactory marriage, as supported by other instances of plot and character development in other parts of the play.
Alternatively, he may be considering divorce as a way out if the marriage were to reach that stage – if it is not already there, in his mind.
Karen may consciously or unconsciously recognise this, hence her plaintive tone which conveys both desperation and desire to save the marriage, when she pleads with him to show her affection as well as to work together to avoid a parting of ways.
Gabe’s responses do not provide much certainty or clarity; beyond the verbal reassurance, he does try to find a way to reconnect with Karen by “play[ing] their intimate game with her from long ago” (86).
Yet, while his tone does convey some degree of conviction, his actions, however, belie a certain helplessness on his part and leave much to be desired in terms of being soothing and calming enough to resolve the conflict between them.
Not only does he “shake his head” (86), akin to Karen’s own reaction in Act 1, the game itself lacks the energy and vitality from their youth, suggesting a reliance on monotonous routines which breed resentment and erode goodwill rather than providing comfort through familiarity.
Ultimately, this encapsulates how, when the acceptance of dysfunction in wedlock as ordinary as well as the normalisation of divorce seeps into both marriages and societal belief systems, it weakens couples’ resilience and capacity for repair.
How we can do better
It goes without saying that we must stop normalising divorce in society.
Beyond what I have previously discussed, it is also instructive to view divorce contagion through the lens of suicide contagion, as both phenomena underscore how deeply social narratives can influence destructive behaviour in others.
Just as divorce contagion refers to how divorce can spread through social networks – making it seem more “inevitable” – suicide contagion describes how exposure to a suicide within a community can increase the likelihood of others attempting or dying by suicide.
There is extensive research showing that how suicide is reported, discussed, or portrayed in the media directly affects suicide rates.
Because of this, we have learnt to be cautious about how we talk about suicide. We avoid glamorising it, sensationalising it or presenting it as an unavoidable response to suffering.
Likewise, we need the same care in how we portray and talk about marriage and divorce in society.
From a systems-thinking perspective, when negative portrayals of marriage and the normalisation of divorce bias individuals’ perceptions, these attitudes compound detrimentally across communities.
To be clear, I do not want us to whitewash reality. Marriage, like all relationships – platonic, familial, collegial – require hard work.
We must encourage positive models that can be followed by telling stories of couples learning, repairing and growing, showing examples of people seeking help and finding solutions before it is too late.
We need more narratives demonstrating how relationships that fall apart can be rebuilt and how reconciliation in a marriage, when it is safe to do so, can also be an act of empowerment.
Just as responsible reporting on suicide focuses on help-seeking and education, responsible storytelling about marriage should highlight marital literacy – the skills, knowledge and abilities that allow couples to work through conflict and nurture connection.
At the end of the day, Dinner with Friends is not so much about divorce as it is about what we allow to die before the marriage does.
If we can bring marital literacy into the mainstream, perhaps we can change the script.
Like Gabe and Karen, many couples find themselves sitting in the dark, unsure of how to bridge the distance that has crept in.
Whether we emerge from darkness apart or together depends on what we learn to see in it – and marital literacy is that light that helps couples find their way back into each other’s hearts.
