Christina Patterson: Didn't anyone ask Katie Holmes what she was doing?


Click to follow
The Independent Online

It never seems polite to ask the Mrs Merton question. It always seems, in fact, a little bit rude to ask a pretty young actress exactly what it was that made her fall in love with an older actor who's very, very famous and very, very rich.

But surely someone must have asked Katie Holmes just what she thought she was doing when she agreed to marry Tom Cruise? Surely one of her friends would have sat her down and said that yes, the teeth were nice, but that the trouble with marriage was that you weren't just marrying the teeth?

Surely someone would have said to her that the fame might seem like a good idea, until you had a spot, or a bit of cellulite, and then you'd wish Obama would forget about healthcare and pass a law forcing all women to wear the niqab, but had she, for example, given any thought at all to her fiance's religion?

Had she, for example, thought about what it would be like to be with someone who thought we were all immortal beings who'd lived on other planets? And who thought women should give birth in silence? And that you should have a "spiritual minder" with you every minute of every night and every day?

Had she, in other words, thought about what it would be like to be with someone who had signed up to a set of beliefs that were seemingly culled from the pages of science fiction?

If someone did sit down with her, she isn't saying. But Katie Holmes, who has now employed some of the most expensive divorce lawyers in the world, and is said to be seeking sole custody of their six-year-old daughter Suri, seems to be behaving like someone who has only just discovered her husband's beliefs. She seems to be worrying that he'll try to bring his daughter up in his religion.

Which, as he always said he would, he will.

What do you call this? What do you call it when someone meets a man, or a woman, and suddenly adopts a new set of beliefs, and takes part in a ceremony confirming those beliefs? And then suddenly decides that the thing they suddenly said they believed they don't believe any more?

Do you call it passion? Do you call it madness? Do you call it lying? Do you call it greed?

I don't know what you call it, but I do know what you don't call it, at least when it comes to the children who will spend their childhood on a battle-ground. What you don't call it is love.

Simon Kelner is away