I do -- kind of

It's also absolutely true that anyone looking for examples throughout history to support the case that marriage, as an institution, has been used to deprive women of life, property and civil liberties will find ample (and horrific) examples. But the fact is that virtually all social institutions -- from religion to politics to feudalism -- have been used to deprive people of life, property and civil liberties.

Geller's "spinster by choice" heroines include Heloise, the 12th century nun who wrote to her lover and teacher, Peter Abelard: "The name of wife may seem more sacred or more binding, but sweeter for me will always be the word mistress, or, if you will permit me, that of concubine or whore." And there is, in every culture -- from French courtesans to Japanese geisha -- a history of single women who exist as concubines or whores. But it would be difficult to make the argument that their lot in life was any better than that of the wives. And citing Heloise as some sort of rah-rah historical precursor to do-me feminism is about as disingenuous as those who cite Geoffrey Chaucer's Wyfe of Bath as a feminist role model for modern marriage.

But the real shortcoming of "Here Comes the Bride" is the absence of actual brides from beyond or behind the glossy page. Nowhere does Geller interview a real, live married woman (unless you count the retail clerks at bridal shops and the few times she snipes at her married friends for having better table services than she does).

Feminist (and post-feminist) marriage takes place far from the viewfinders of celebrity photographers, but Geller seems completely uninterested in what's going on in the minds of not-so-famous women who find themselves wanting to be legally bound to their lover. Early on, she informs us that while she draws upon the work of Mary Daly, St. Augustine, Mary Astell and Francis Bacon, it would be "pointless" to reference them in her work, as these writers are only "read seriously by a dedicated but tiny elite" while "self-improvement books, ladies' magazines, and dating handbooks are consumed by millions of American women."

It never seems to occur to Geller that there might be women out there who read St. Augustine and Mary Daly and a bridal magazine or two before they choose to walk down the aisle -- or enter a pagan circle -- with a partner.

Lillian Ross once wrote in her rules for writing, "Never write about anybody who you do not like." Jaclyn Geller has devoted half a dozen years of her life to exploring an institution -- and by extension, its participants -- that she despises. No wonder she's so cranky. Even the most devoted professional bride doesn't spend much more than 12 months immersed in the treacly, sugar-iced worlds of Modern Bride and People's wedding issue.

In her interview with Jacobs, Geller mentions that her editor at Four Walls, Eight Windows was concerned that people would attribute her opposition to marriage to sour grapes -- as the jealous ranting of a woman in her late 30s who has yet to complete her Cinderella story by finding a good man who wants to make an honest woman of her.

Actually, says Geller, she has turned down marriage proposals. But she does come off as jealous and, to be honest, completely unlikable -- the kind of woman who would go to a friend's wedding and buy the damn soup tureen merely for the pleasure of sitting in the corner and bitching loudly about the bride. (In fact, there is a scene in the middle of her book when Geller goes to the wedding shower of a friend and immediately begins scoping the room to find out how much of the woman's kitchen is made up of free bridal loot.)

One does not picture Geller pining for a mate (one believes her when she says she's not "a couple person," and one is tempted to extend that to say that she's not really a "people person" at all), and there certainly are many good arguments to be made against marriage as a potentially oppressive and exclusionary institution.

But Geller's argument is unconvincing, mostly because, despite research that ranges from bridal customs in the 12th century to the analysis of mother-of-the-bride guidebooks, she seems strangely uncurious about why women marry and how they actually feel about it. If she wanted to do some real feminist scholarship on women who marry, you'd think she'd look at feminists who married, rather than building straw brides out of women who couldn't give a shit about feminists and their rules.

The fact is that Geller hates brides, and many of her arguments boil down to the idea that other women shouldn't marry because it pisses her off and offends her sensibilities as a single woman. Why, Geller wants to know, can't she "marry" her platonic best friend? Why aren't scholars rewarded with gifts of household goods? (I found myself asking: As opposed to research grants?) You get the sense that she really wants that soup tureen; she feels entitled to it. And you can't help feeling that she would have been better off spending six years of her life writing about the radical implications of marrying one's platonic roommate, rather than tearing down the motives of women she obviously cares nothing about.

Next page: Marriages so queer as to constitute a gleeful "Fuck you" to the entire history of the institution