I Need A Lobotomy

Your conclusion is that Henry does those things and therefore, he loves her.

What I’m saying is that those actions don’t, by themselves, convince me that Henry experiences love in the way most readers assume.

Of course the novel gives us evidence that Henry and Camilla have a romantic relationship. Whether that relationship is emotionally deep, psychologically healthy, or reciprocal is much murkier.

Based on the novel

Henry’s primary emotional attachment arguably is Julian. Julian’s approval shapes his worldview more than anyone else’s.

Henry is capable of compartmentalizing horrific acts. Planning Bunny’s murder with remarkable composure tells us something about how he processes morality.

His emotional life is extremely inaccessible. We almost never see him articulate vulnerability.

His suicide is difficult to reconcile with a straightforwardly romantic reading. He shoots himself in front of the group—including Camilla. Some readers see this as self-sacrifice. Others see it as a final act of control. The text supports debate.

Henry is a remarkably emotionally opaque character and based on all that I’m not persuaded that Henry’s feelings for Camilla resemble the emotionally intimate, psychologically transparent love many readers attribute to him.

I cannot see him a gentleman,

As to: Henry knew exactly what she was like.

That’s a fair point but knowing someone deeply and relating to them through an idealized framework aren’t mutually exclusive. People often understand others intimately while still fitting them into a worldview or narrative.

Henry projects into Camilla simply because we all project into other people. Projecting into others isn’t necessary bad or immoral and we don’t have to make it in order to show henry’s emotional superiority to Richard’s.

And yet Henry LOVED Homer. Apparently he loved Camilla too.

I found the reason why while counting the atrocities in Christopher Nolan’s new Odyssey, specifically the scene when they had Telemachus call Odysseus “dad”. “Dad” not “father”. A sad directional choice that contradicts the very system of morality Homer’s Greece had.

archaic Greek epics are deeply role-oriented worlds.

Odysseus is a

father

husband

king

host

warrior.

Penelope is

a queen

mother

wife

household preserver

lineage protector.

And in Homeric logic, role was identity. To fulfil your role excellently was meaning.

We often interpret their romance as proof of devoted soulmates, of romantic longing, emotional intimacy.

Odysseus had everything taken and given to him and yet all was for him a distraction from his only goal and desire to return home. To Penelope.

However the emotional core isn’t necessarily:

“I miss you specifically as an emotionally fulfilling individual and will do everything to return to you”

but mostly something like

“the order of the world is broken until rightful roles are restarted”

His absence from home was an and if he wouldn’t return it’d be a violation to his world order and a personal failing to his roles as king/husband/father.

It all sounds utterly unromantic to modern audience because modern culture fetishises authenticity and emotional individuality.

We want “dad” not “father”. We want intimacy over structure. We want Odysseus to “long” for Penelope not the place she occupied in his life where he’s a king/father/husband.

We search for emotional reciprocity, phycological intimacy and individuality beyond function.

“Father” = symbolic role, lineage, authority, continuity.

“Dad” = emotional familiarity, personal closeness, private affection.

Same relationship. Different metaphysics. And which one does Henry lean towards? Which one does he LOVE? The one that keeps his hands clean from any emotional vulnerability.

Now that is not to say that there is no emotion in the epics. There is and plenty of it. Odysseus weeps for Penelope. Penelope cries herself to sleep. Hector embraces Astyanax. The emotions are real—they’re just expressed through the framework of duty rather than replacing it. Homer doesn’t separate the individual from the role.

Henry seems fascinated by systems where identity is predetermined and morality is structural rather than emotional. He admires civilizations where your obligations tell you who you are, because then you never have to ask the terrifying modern question: What do I actually feel?

Camilla, to Henry, often occupies a similar position. She isn’t simply “Camilla.” She’s beauty, order, permanence, purity—almost an idea rather than an emotionally negotiated relationship. Loving her resembles loving Homer: it’s admiration for something perfectly ordered and aesthetically complete.

Modern audiences instinctively translate that into intimacy. We want “dad,” not “father.” We want Odysseus to miss Penelope because she is Penelope, not because without her he cannot be husband, king, or master of Ithaca.

Henry never seems interested in that translation.

He doesn’t seek relationships that demand emotional vulnerability. He gravitates toward structures that make vulnerability unnecessary.

So why be first a man or a lover when you can be a role?

(((((and in the book regarding Henry outing himself