Thursday, August 9, 2012

Laying it Bare

Let´s strip it down to the bone, shall we, now?  Or in this case, the bare flesh.  Because if we envision our premodern ancestors dutifully copulating in a cheerfully egalitarian free-for-all, a la Sex at Dawn, then eroticism, pornography, fetishism, etc. all seem rather beside the point.  What I mean to say is that all of these elaborate constructs (which I´m fond of referring to as pathologies) around sex may have developed strictly because of our extensive limitations on our own sexual activity.

Now then, do men have stunted sex drives?  Well, why wouldn´t they?  If they really let loose [1], they´re liable to be accused of being the worst sorts of pigs.  Or, what must be even worse for the poor dears, they become so anxious about the whole thing, that they´re unable to (ahem) get it up in the first place. 

Do women have stunted sex drives?  We certainly do.  After all, we spend half of our time wondering if he´ll respect us in the morning, not to mention agonizing as to whether he´ll call us back the day after tomorrow.   It makes it pretty damn hard to just let go, I can tell you that.

But I digress, as my point here is to take up the issue of eroticism, by which I imagine Fulcanelli means something like diaphanous negligées, as opposed to interracial 3-on-1´s.  I hardly need point out, I´m sure, that fishnet stockings didn´t figure in the cheerful orgy to which I´m referring above, likely preceded by a successful hunt and happy bellies filled with antelope.

Let´s turn to the root of the word.  Eros, the Greek god of love, has with time, commonly been understood to represent physical love.  The erotic, then, rather than just relating to love in general, is thought of as that which causes sexual desire.  Well, pornography certain generates plenty of that, wouldn´t you agree?  Still, Fulcanelli sees porn as different from his image of a woman reclining in beautiful lingerie.  Wouldn´t this, however, have been just as pornographic to our Victorian ancestors, who apparently believed a woman should submit to her husband in the dark, under the covers, while remaining clothed in white from neck to toes?

Going back to our ancestors, wasn´t sex (as I´ve argued before) just as natural as tearing into that antelope together?  And if I were truly a modern liberated woman, wouldn´t I be as free to invite you into my bed as to have a coffee with you?  I could put on a diaphanous negligée first... or a long white nightgown...  as you like!

[1] Obviously here I am referring to consensual sexual activity among adults.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

"we spend half of our time wondering if he´ll respect us in the morning"

Yes, and what a shame it is. I have way more respect for a woman who is liberated and takes what she wants in bed than I do for a little girl who suppresses her libido and doesn't put out because she's worried about what people think of her.