The majority of husbands remind me of an orangutan trying to play

The words of Honoré de Balzac—“The majority of husbands remind me of an orangutan trying to play the violin.”—strike like a jest, but echo with the sorrow of truth. Beneath their humor lies a portrait of misunderstanding, of men clumsy in love, attempting to play the delicate music of the heart with hands too rough and untrained. Balzac, the great observer of human folly, wrote not as a cynic, but as one who saw both the comedy and the tragedy of ordinary life. His words reveal the tension between passion and understanding, between the instinct of affection and the art of tenderness. For love, like music, demands not strength, but grace.

The origin of this quote lies in Balzac’s vast body of work, La Comédie Humaine, where he dissected the soul of nineteenth-century France. Few writers understood the theater of marriage as deeply as he did. He watched as men, accustomed to conquering the world of business or ambition, entered the world of emotion—awkward, uncertain, yet proud. They could acquire wealth, command armies, or shape nations, yet they stumbled when faced with the mysterious, intricate music of a woman’s soul. In his eyes, such men were like orangutans with violins—creatures of great power but no finesse, touching something sublime with hands unfit to play it.

In this metaphor, the violin represents love itself—fragile, refined, demanding patience and artistry. It is an instrument that yields beauty only to those who learn its rhythm with humility. The orangutan, though full of vitality, represents the man who approaches marriage with dominance instead of understanding, instinct instead of wisdom. He means no harm, but his strength crushes what his soul longs to cherish. Thus, Balzac exposes the tragedy of men who love deeply yet love badly—who wish to make music but produce only noise because they never learned the language of gentleness.

Consider the story of Napoleon Bonaparte and Josephine, a union of power and passion that ended in sorrow. Napoleon, conqueror of empires, could not master the subtle kingdom of the heart. He loved Josephine fiercely, but his ambition, his pride, and his temper made him blind to her needs. His letters overflowed with fire, yet his actions struck with coldness. In the end, he divorced her for an heir, and when power abandoned him, it was her name he cried in exile. Like Balzac’s orangutan, he could not play the violin of love—his greatness in the world was his failure in the home.

Balzac’s words, though humorous, hide a lesson in self-awareness. He reminds us that love is not conquered; it is learned. The husband who treats affection as possession, who approaches his partner with the habits of command, will find that love recoils from force. Marriage is not a stage for pride, but a school for patience. To love another truly, one must listen before speaking, understand before acting. The violin does not yield its music to impatience; neither does the heart.

There is also mercy in Balzac’s jest. He does not condemn all men—he simply laughs at the blindness that is common to them. He invites the husband, and indeed every soul in love, to see themselves with humility. The laughter he inspires is not cruel, but corrective. For when a man recognizes the orangutan within himself—the brute impulse that crushes when it should caress—he takes the first step toward becoming the musician of love he was meant to be. Thus humor becomes wisdom; ridicule becomes reform.

So, my child, remember this teaching: do not strike where you should strum. In love, as in music, mastery begins with humility. Learn the tone of your beloved’s soul, the rhythm of her joys and fears. Approach her not as a conqueror but as a craftsman, shaping beauty with care. For to play the violin of love, one must first quiet the noise of pride. Let your words be soft, your patience long, your understanding deep. Then, and only then, will the crude strength of the orangutan be transformed into the grace of the musician—and love, once clumsy, will sing.