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Loneliness

Why You Shouldn't Eat Alone

The infinite, enchanting grace of sharing a meal.

Key points

  • Americans report high degrees of loneliness.
  • Americans eat nearly half of all meals alone, and half of all drinking occasions occur in isolation.
  • A shared meal can captivate the senses, changes hearts, softens differences, and unites people in unexpected ways.

In a national survey last year, 36 percent of Americans reported high degrees of loneliness. For young adults ages 18 to 25, the number was substantially higher—61 percent.

It’s not simply that we are feeling lonely, but we’re partaking in ordinary activities in total isolation. Studies show that Americans eat nearly half of all meals alone and half of all drinking occasions occur in isolation.

In her short story Babette’s Feast, Karen Blixen (under the penname Isak Dinesen) reminds us of the gift of sharing a meal and its transformative power.

Blixen tells the tale of two sisters, Martine and Philippa, whose father had once upon a time founded a puritanical sect in Norway. Theirs is a severe sort of piety—they renounce the world’s pleasures to live, dress, and eat austerely. Their delights are other-worldly and their indulgences none.

Some years after their father’s death, the sisters are asked by a friend to take in a French woman named Babette, a refugee of the Franco-Prussian War. Martine and Philippa cannot afford to pay her, and Babette insists on working for room and board, which she does faithfully for 12 years.

Meanwhile, the flock that Martine and Philippa continue to shepherd grows increasingly cantankerous. Old grievances threaten to open new wounds. The sisters worry that the community is disintegrating just as their father’s hundredth birthday is approaching. They had hoped to celebrate, but they fear instead that he will look down from heaven and judge them as having poorly stewarded the sect.

Babette’s only tie back to France is a lottery ticket, which an old friend renews for her every year. Several months before the founder’s birthday, Babette learns that she has won the lottery and will receive more money than the sisters can imagine. They harbor no fantasy that a nouveaux riche Babette will remain among a poor Norwegian religious community.

Babette says nothing about returning to France and instead asks Martine and Philippa for a favor. She begs them to let her cook a celebratory dinner in honor of their father’s birthday. They refuse, but when Babette presses, they relent.

This is where the story takes off. Babette proceeds to enlist the help of her sailor nephew to procure all necessary ingredients from France. When the supplies begin to arrive, the sisters are shocked to see bottles of wine and even a live tortoise. Never had they dreamt of consuming such delicacies, and they aren’t entirely sure if drinking wine amounts to consorting with the devil. Martine and Philippa secretly warn their congregation that the food and drink is entirely out of their control. Blixen writes that the old religious sect “promised one another that for their little sisters’ sake they would, on the great day, be silent upon all matters of food and drink. Nothing that might be set before them, be it even frogs or snails, should wring a word from their lips.”

When the great evening arrives, the guests are ushered in from the cold to the sisters’ sparse sitting room. They are greeted by the rich aromas of French cuisine, although they make no comment. The table is finely laid with dishes supplied by Babette and illuminated by a row of candles down the middle.

At the table, the guests’ senses begin to come alive. They are enchanted by the food and drink. Their normally reserved tongues become loosed in conversation. They begin to recount stories about the sect’s founder—a first meeting, an important sermon, a miracle. Conversation turns to acts of kindness and helpfulness. They see beauty in one another. A sparkling drink—which they mistake for a kind of lemonade—raises their spirits and lightens their hearts. Together they discover the infinity of grace. The evening ends with mended relationships, contented hearts, and proportionate inebriation. There’s no denying it: Babette’s feast transformed the aged group of religious brothers and sisters. And astonishingly, she spent every bit of her lottery earnings to pull it off.

Gabriel Axel’s 1987 film Babette’s Feast demonstrates near total fidelity to Blixen’s text with very few exceptions. But what the film offers, which the text can’t, is vivid visual imagery. The viewer bears witness to how a sumptuous meal captivates, changes, softens, and unites. Even as the pious party does its best to remain silent about “all matters of food and drink,” they can’t stop themselves from coming alive in new ways. Their senses are kindled, their relational inhibitions overcome.

Babette’s Feast is a striking story of gift and gratitude expressed through self-sacrifice and the culinary arts. Eating together need not be costly or onerous to experience infinite grace. Potlucks even have the potential to transform a group of individuals into a community, to strengthen relationships, and to provide common focus. Spending an evening in the presence of others mitigates the despair of loneliness. For the duration of the meal, no one exists in isolation. Those gathered around the table are one—one dinner party, one feast, one group. They are seen. They can be heard.

To mitigate the despair of loneliness that is sweeping across the nation, Americans can begin by inviting an acquaintance for dinner.

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