Improving our ability to be more intimate in relationships is just another skill, like learning a language, says the neuroscientist Giovanni Frazzetto
Giovanni Frazzetto speaks with a thin voice, barely louder than our footsteps; we are walking around St Stephens Green in Dublin. To hear, Ihave to lean in. At first Ithink hes shy, but hes an intimacy expert so maybe talking quietly is adevice to bring us closer. After all, there is a loneliness epidemic and Frazzetto is on a mission to make human beings do intimacy better.
To this end, his new book, Together, Closer: Stories of Intimacy in Friendship, Love and Family, examines the way humans relate to each other across a spectrum of relationships from parent-child to platonic friendships and, of course, romantic love. Frazzetto, a research fellow at Trinity College Dublin, is a cross-disciplinary neuroscientist. He wants to explain the neuroscience behind the way people relate to each other, to explain why we behave as we do.
If you catch yourself flinching at this point, you may be exhibiting one particularly common behaviour: our reluctance to confront our emotional lives. Oh intimacy! Frazzetto says, mimicking a standard response: I dont want to talk about it! If he can only unlock some relationship tropes, he says, people might become more at ease with the subject, with themselves, with their expectations and evolve a more constructive emotional style.
So what does Frazzetto mean by intimacy? The book variously describes it as a risk, a journey, or the inner rooms of a large mansion. It can develop over years or flourish in a moment and fade, as when strangers connect on the train. The concept seems elusive. Frazzetto nods. Speaking personally, it means deep knowledge of someone else knowledge that another person would not have. People who share intimacy can understand each other without verbalising, in a way that other people dont have access to.
So our true identities are revealed to each other? Yes, and you know why? Frazzetto asks. When two people come together, in the romantic realm, they function as a mirror for each other. Im convinced of that. Intimacy, when it really works, means self-knowledge, too. You look at this person and its like looking at yourself in the mirror and you dont look away. He mentions a friend who gave him an amusingly apposite definition. They were having dinner after hed finished the book and she said: Oh intimacy: In-to-me-I-see.
Frazzettos book starts with the story of Anita, a single woman in her 40s who has devised a fantasy boyfriend to stem her overbearing mothers inquiries into her failure to marry. She would like to wear a T-shirt with the slogan LONELINESS KILLS and has fragments of compulsive behaviour. She is fearful, Frazzetto says. Every now and then, the story pauses so the author can explain the science behind her behaviour. The effect is a little like a colour picture morphing into a diagram and then back to a brighter, sharper photograph.
Anita is alone, and one reason for this, Frazzetto explains, is her abundance of choice. He cites research that presented shoppers with a choice of a few jars of jam or 24 jars. Customers who were offered the reduced choice were more likely to make a purchase. In the same way, he writes: Anita gavethe impression of being available But she was also difficult when it came to choosing. Suitors who came her way were never the right ones. She is a victim and accomplice of the choice overload.
Other chapters examine Carrie and Aidan, married for 35 years, who have evolved a sort of code by which to communicate privately in public. Through them, Frazzetto explores how intimacy builds across different timescales, in milliseconds and years. Then there is Liam who throws the odd sop to intimacy to Scott in an otherwise ungiving dynamic. Its an intimate arrangement rather than true intimacy, because neither is honest with himself or the other. Vanessa and Ryan are both married to other people, but have been enjoying a loving affair together for years. In another chapter, Lev is a withholder who has to overcome his selfishness and self-consciousness to give freely.
Crucially, the book performs a sleight of hand in relation to all these tales. The reader reads the stories of others lives but, of course, we are really appraising our own. Every now and then and where this happens will depend on your intimate style the text seems to silver into a kind of mirror. It is unnervingly accurate the way this works, and triggers an interior scrutiny. In these characters, Frazzetto is really showing us ourselves, helping us to look at what we usually look away from.
The stories are treated like case studies, but some raise questions. There is a high incidence of chance. Carrie boards the tube carriage where Aidan is sitting; Lev and Fionn share a birthday; Liam divines which bit of ocean is the right one to bump into Scott mid-dip.
I had assumed that Frazzetto had fictionalised the stories of real people, but he says they are made-up characters, composite figures whose stories he has based on the science behind different emotional styles and intimacy. He hopes that fiction will flesh out the science and that readers will respond to the way Scott leaves Liam, or how Margo decides to live an open life. This is something they will remember more than the anterior cingulate cortex, he says, and who is going to argue with that?
His first book, How We Feel, contained an element of memoir, but the fictionalisation is a surprising discovery and no doubt that speaks well of the proficiency with which Frazzetto moves in and out of his characters heads. However, it also feels estranging. The people whose lives Iwas appraising are figments. I knew them less well than I thought, which feels oddly like a loss of intimacy.
Frazzetto, 40, says there is a little bit of himself in all the stories. He was born in Francofonte in Sicily and lived there until he was 18, when he moved to London to study molecular biology at UCL. Certainly the places where he has lived London, Berlin, just outside Dublin and Sicily trace a personal path through all of the stories. Like the character of Anita, he says, he was single in Berlin. He was single while he wrote the book. And now? He laughs. Still single!