My profound attraction to girls had begun at a relatively young age, probably hastened by the encouragement of my mother, the encouraging matriach for whom I had a deep and abiding love. I was never the most confident suitor--even in elementary school--but I vividly remember my pre-pubescent attraction to, in turn, Deanna, with her feathered hair and speedy legs; Heidi, a good Jewish friend whose bright blue eyes still mesmerize me when I recall them; and Molly, whose vivaciousness and brown-eyed beauty held me in thrall for at least four years. Molly in particular was to me a thing apart, one worshipped from afar except during those brief moments when the combined excuses of a gift in hand and holiday or birthday party on the calendar emboldened me.

The first truly significant love of my life was similarly adored from a distance. Mendy first captured my attention during a short vocal solo plopped in the middle of a Showchoir performance. The high school's premiere singing group had visited the middle school, and Mendy's winning enthusiasm and personal charms quickly convinced this fifteen-year-old boy that he had to try out for the troupe the following year. Little did I know then that Mendy and I would become dance partners in only a few short months. During the two years which followed, I was obsessed. I wrote poetry, made mixed tapes, drove around Mendy's neighborhood and gazed fondly at the house of my dance partner--the whole bit. None of this was ever reciprocated--she had a steady boyfriend and probably only dimly registered my affection. Oddly enough, when I did finally sit down with Mendy at her house and directly share my feelings for her towards the end of my junior year--and received a measure of encouragement--the bright nimbus that had surrounded her began to fade. For my ardently romantic, adolescent self, Mendy had functioned best as a catalyst for creativity and my most powerful emotions while I yet considered her ideal and unattainable. A combination of awe, low self-confidence, and perceived social barriers had placed this bright star high above me in a firmament of my own imaginings--far beyond the moderate pedestal on which most of us set the beloved.

The hero of Stardust, Tristan, treats the town beauty with the same, complete level of idolizing commitment in the absence of encouragement. He persists despite failed attempts at wooing, and assures Victoria he would do anything to win her love. The ideal woman that his imagination makes of her inspires the best in Tristan, and actually sparks the film's central adventure. For love of the radiant Victoria, the timid Tristan braves the unknown to retrieve something mysterious that has fallen from the sky. What matters here is not so much who Victoria really is as what she represents for her would-be lover. This kind of interaction has little to do with the sharing and accountability that accompany intimate relationship building; it more closely resembles the honor-driven relationship between a knight and the great lady for whom he wins renown. Tristan places Victoria high above him, configuring her as a light to guide him through the unknown darkness into which he plunges in the film's second act.

Those who do not outright dismiss this kind of thing as adolescent tomfoolery will likely balk at what appears to be a dehumanizing form of idolization--a flattening of the female into an inspiring icon intended to function more as a symbol than a person.

I will be the first to agree that placing the women in our lives on pedestals is almost as destructive a practice as ignoring or abusing them. I think, however, that this kind of idealization--performed unwittingly by many young men struggling with an unrequited love--can serve a noble purpose. In my case and that of Tristan, such adoration inspired selflessness, a desire for excellence, and a bit of courage. In this way, the experience of being "in love" provides a moral exercise, an opportunity to exercise one's character, to refine strong emotion, and to hope for and pursue what there is no assurance of achieving.

We would do well to respect instead of belittling such fervent feelings in our young men (and women). Love--even puppy love--can be a powerful, formative force for good.