I am thinking of taking a fifth wife. Why not? Solomon had a
I am thinking of taking a fifth wife. Why not? Solomon had a thousand wives and he is a synonym for wisdom.
John Barrymore, actor of grandeur and wit, spoke these words with a playful irony: “I am thinking of taking a fifth wife. Why not? Solomon had a thousand wives and he is a synonym for wisdom.” Beneath the jest lies a sharp reflection on the human tendency to cloak desire in the mantle of wisdom. Barrymore invokes Solomon, the king famed in Scripture as the wisest of men, yet also remembered for his countless marriages. In doing so, he mocks the contrast between Solomon’s exalted reputation and the questionable choices that burdened his reign.
The ancients themselves wrestled with this paradox. Solomon, gifted by God with unsurpassed wisdom, built the temple and spoke proverbs that endure to this day. Yet the Scriptures also tell that his multitude of wives turned his heart from devotion, leading him into division and folly. Thus, his story stands as both glory and warning: that even the wisest can stumble when passion eclipses discernment. Barrymore, with humor, calls attention to this tension between lofty reputation and human frailty.
History is filled with figures who, like Solomon, mingled greatness with weakness. Henry VIII of England, though powerful and shrewd in governance, is remembered as much for his six wives as for his reforms. His search for heirs and his restless heart led to upheaval that shook church and kingdom alike. The irony of Barrymore’s remark finds a mirror here: men justify their desires by pointing to kings, yet history shows that such choices often sow more turmoil than triumph.
Yet Barrymore’s words also carry a deeper lesson about the nature of wisdom itself. True wisdom is not proven by wealth, marriages, or outward show, but by humility, compassion, and self-mastery. To call Solomon “a synonym for wisdom” while jesting at his excesses is to remind us that titles and reputations often conceal as much as they reveal. The wise man may speak with brilliance, yet his private choices may betray his public image.
Let future generations remember: it is easy to wrap desire in the cloak of tradition or authority, to say, “The wise before me did this, therefore I too am justified.” But true wisdom does not lie in imitation of another’s folly. It lies in discernment, in the courage to choose rightly even when history provides excuses for wrong. For in the end, Solomon is remembered not only for his wisdom, but also for the burdens his excess placed upon his people—a warning to all who confuse indulgence with greatness.
Hhanthuyquynh
I feel intrigued but uneasy about the statement. Could drawing parallels between biblical polygamy and personal marital choices be problematic, especially in terms of fairness, consent, and equality? I’m also wondering about the role of context: Solomon’s marriages had political and cultural purposes, not purely personal gratification. Does Barrymore acknowledge that nuance, or is he simplifying history to justify his desires? This makes me consider how people sometimes selectively interpret history to validate actions that might otherwise face criticism today.
VTVu Thi Viet Thanh
This quote seems provocative and invites debate on cultural and historical interpretations of wisdom. Is it fair or accurate to measure a person’s intelligence by the number of relationships they maintain? I’m curious whether Barrymore’s remark is an intentional challenge to social norms or merely a facetious comment. How does society reconcile admiration for historical figures with modern moral expectations? Could this perspective reveal more about human desire for status or influence than about genuine wisdom?
GNGiap Nguyen
I find myself questioning the logic and morality behind this remark. Does equating multiple marriages with wisdom ignore the emotional, legal, and social consequences for everyone involved? Could this be a reflection of self-indulgence rather than genuine admiration for Solomon? I also wonder if humor or exaggeration plays a role in Barrymore’s statement. Beyond personal ethics, it prompts a larger conversation: to what extent should historical or religious figures’ behaviors influence modern decision-making?
MKMa Ket
Reading this, I feel a mix of amusement and concern. Is it appropriate to use the actions of a biblical figure as justification for personal decisions that impact others? I’m curious whether Barrymore is reflecting on wisdom, status, or simply indulgence. How might this viewpoint affect relationships with existing spouses or the perception of morality in society? It also makes me think about how historical examples are often taken out of context to rationalize contemporary behavior, and whether that reasoning is valid.
ABTran An Binh
This statement raises a lot of ethical and social questions. Is John Barrymore serious in drawing a parallel between himself and Solomon, or is it meant humorously? Can wisdom really be measured by the number of spouses someone has, or is he misinterpreting historical context? I also wonder how this perspective would be received today, given modern views on monogamy, gender equality, and personal responsibility. Could this be an example of using historical figures to justify personal desires without considering the full implications?