It feels like reinventing the wheel. Back in the day, when marriages were arranged, spouses who sought true love often looked outside of their conjugal bed.
In such cultures, males cheated, with impunity. They had mistresses, concubines, courtesans and favorites.
In some cases wives also cheated. In the medieval practice of courtly love an older married woman seduced an adolescent boy. Nowadays, such activities still take place in American high schools, but they have become felonies.
The Protestant Reformation and Puritanism mounted a systematic rejection of arranged marriage. They allowed women a free choice of a spouse and declared that sexual relations should remain within the conjugal bed.
The practice was called love marriage. It offered women the freedom to choose their husbands.
Thus, we can add love marriage to the list of the Protestant Reformation’s great achievements. If we believe Max Weber capitalism itself is also on the list.
With the advent of love marriage, adultery became tabooed. Prohibiting adultery was not a blow against sexual expression; it limited sexual expression to married couples. One might guess that the goal was social cohesion more than sexual gratification.
Of course, cultures have been more tolerant of cheating husbands than they have of cheating wives. A wife’s loyalty came close to guaranteeing that her offspring be her husband’s. Many, if not all men prefer to protect and provide for children that are theirs. Suspicions to the contrary often produce very serious problems.
Which brings us to a new book, by one Molly Roden Winter. For reasons that escape me, it is called More. It chronicles Winter’s adventures in the world of polyamory, of multiple partners in multiple positions on multiple occasions.
As you might guess, I have not read the book. Frankly, I do not much care what Molly Winter has been doing with her leisure time. Nor do I much care about her husband-- unfortunately, from my perspective, named Stewart-- who apparently is auditioning for cuckold of the decade.
As it happens, Stewart likes hearing about his wife’s escapades. To each his own. Apparently, in exchange for his forbearance, his wife allows him to cheat as much as he wants. It’s a deal like another.
Reading reviews in the New York Times and the Financial Times, I come away with the unfortunate impression that Molly is an aspiring porn star. It is not just that she cheats or that she tells her husband all about it, but that she describes it all in agonizing detail. She is so proud of her exploits that she has chosen to share them all, not just with her husband, but with the rest of the world.
New York Times reviewer Alexandra Alter has spared us the need to read all about it:
Winter recounts her experiments with butt plugs, fisting and anal intercourse, and catalogs her extramarital relationships — which range from brief encounters in seedy hotel rooms to romantic partnerships that last for years — in meticulous detail.
Since her husband apparently encourages it, one comes away with the unfortunate impression that he is pimping her out and that these stories of her sexual exploits function for him as a fetish. You know all about fetishes, because our very own president has a hair sniffing fetish, so I will spare you more details.
Aside from the pornography, one question that arises, to Rana Foroohor in the Financial Times, involves designated roles. Foroohar suggests that Molly was not satisfied just being a wife and mother.
But then, what would we call her in her new role, one that does not merely mean having a man on the side, but that means having multiple men on the side-- and not just on the side.
Courtesans and concubines and mistresses tend toward faithfulness and loyalty. Such is not the case with Molly. Hers is not just a modern arrangement. As I said, for all intents and purposes, her husband is pimping her out. Guess which role pops into mind?
Apparently, Molly suspects that her husband has manipulated her into her extramarital affairs. She does not seem to be very far off the mark. I would add that we ought to draw a distinction between a woman, or even a man, who has a lover and a woman, or even a man, who is a slut.
I regret using such a vulgar term, but the Times review uses it, and I refuse to self-censor.
Strangely, Molly suggests that a woman cannot be a sexual being if she does not cheat on her husband.
One appreciates that Rana Foroohar, who normally writes about matters economic, believes that Molly has had better sex with her husband, but, if you believe that, you will believe anything.
More importantly, this book is not fiction. It is a memoir. You should ask yourself, and the reviewers dance around the question, about the damage that this level of exposure will do to her relationships with her children and her friends.
The reviewers consider that reputation does not matter and that everyone is cool with this behavior. If you believe that you will believe anything.
Therapy culture has assumed that considerations of public reputation are trivial and that we can do what we want, when we want, with whom we want-- and tell everyone about them, without damaging our relationships. In that it is grievously wrong.
Would you like to be an eighth grade student explaining to your friends that your mother is the town floozy? And would you like to be teaching an eighth grade class when your memoir of your sexual exploits hits Amazon?
It all suggests that women who live the feminist dream can have sex just like a man-- with no commitment, with no emotional component, with no attachment.
Reviewers are sufficiently impressed by Molly’s exploits to downplay the emotional fallout.
The book, however, presents the torments that accompany an open marriage-- for the wife, that is.
Winter’s often turbulent experience of open marriage — the resentment and jealousy she felt toward her husband’s girlfriends, the flashes of guilt and shame, and the challenges of juggling her obligations as a wife and mother with her pursuit of sexual and romantic fulfillment.
As though being a wife and mother cannot be fulfilling.
This book and the other similar stories are working to recruit new participants for their activities.
Unfortunately, Foroohar descends into a metaphysical quagmire. She makes cheating, even betrayal, into an affirmation of freedom.
One recalls Isaiah Berlin’s distinction between freedom from and freedom for. And one notes, with some chagrin, that Foroohar has confused the two. Fair enough, Molly and Stewart are freeing themselves from their commitments to each other. They are freeing themselves from their vows. They are imagining that if they both agree to cheat on each other, they are not really cheating.
They are giving each other the gift of freedom at the same time that they are holding each other totally responsible for honesty and commitment to the core relationship with each other. That’s big. The couple has to struggle with massive amounts of jealousy on both sides in exchange for freedom.
Dare I say that this phenomenon is yet another volley in the feminist assault on women, to say nothing about its assault on the stability of the marital estate.
It was only yesterday that the Daily Mail reported on something called the Skirt Club, a grouping that has chapters around the world. This group has found an ingenious way to allow women to cheat on their husbands and to avoid the pregnancy risk, even to avoid using condoms. They hook up with other women, in bacchanalian orgies, generally with random strangers.
Naturally, the stories function as marketing and recruitment services. Jana Hocking takes a break from her usual columns about why her wondrous girlfriends, all of whom are hotter than hot in their late thirties, are not married. Hocking reports now on the Skirt Club. And naturally, she wants to know whether any of the participants develop feelings for their hookups:
I asked if she was worried about forming deeper feelings for any of the women she gets naked with and she said no. They're all happy with the 'Friends with benefits' situation they've got going on. She also revealed that her sex life with her husband is now better than ever. She said being given the freedom to explore her bisexuality has bonded them in a way that has really paid off in the bedroom.
As I said, this is marketing. It is not designed to strengthen anyone’s marital bonds. It is designed to induce women into doing something that they might otherwise not want to do.
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You share a spoken name with Stewart but not a written name, so that should make it somewhat less unfortunate.
ReplyDeleteWhatever happened to the idea of personal honor? Being an honorable human being, and honoring and respecting those you care for is somehow passe. Pleasure as an ultimate goal is a fool's errand.
ReplyDelete