Swimming And into the ocean I go to lose my mind and find my soul poster



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Swimming And into the ocean I go to lose my mind and find my soul poster

This really would be the end of civilisation as we know it. Greer on Marriage Some of the briefest marriages are those that follow a long period of cohabitation. Nobody quite knows why this is so, but the theory is that unforced cohabitation is less oppressive than sanctioned cohabitation. Marriage does make a difference; even when the marriage service does not contain the bride’s pledge to “love, honour and obey,” it acts in the interest of a husband rather than a wife. Though the bride herself may not feel that she has left the family of her father and been taken into the family of her husband, the ancient dynamic still prevails. His friends will now be her friends, but her friends are unlikely to become his; even if her parents are not entirely displaced by his, his will take precedence. The dynamic of mutual accommodation that propelled a couple’s informal cohabitation is unnecessary once marriage has confined them. As both are bound, the power will come to be concentrated in the person best prepared to take advantage of the situation, and that person is the male partner. Having been so lucky as to acquire a wife, he begins to take the liberties that husbands have traditionally taken, comes and goes as he pleases, spends more time outside the connubial home, spends more money on himself, leaves off the share of the housework that he may have formerly done. Swimming And into the ocean I go to lose my mind and find my soul poster

She sees her job as making him happy; he feels that in marrying her, he has done all that is necessary to make her happy. The less she expected it, the more generous he feels for having done it. To her anxious question “Do you love me?” he has an easy answer. “Of course. I married you, didn’t I?” The interesting thing about this particular con is that men need marriage more than women do. A man without a wife is fragile; prisons are full of men who never married and unmarried men are more likely to die violently. A wife, whose first duty is to stand by her man, reassure him, build up his confidence and attend to his creature comforts, is an asset to any man; performing such a role is not necessarily advantageous to the performer. Yet marriage is represented to women rather than men as a sign of success so effectively that failure in a woman’s pair-bonding will neutralise success in any other field. Success which might put pressure on her pair-bond is success too dearly bought. Magazine after magazine offers young women advice on how to get their man to commit himself; there is nothing comparable in men’s literature. Men buy literature about men’s toys and pastimes; women buy magazines about men and relationships. Though young men have searing anxieties of their own about relationships, relationships are not represented to them as the only things of value in their lives. This fundamental asymmetry distorts all youthful male-female interaction: the girls put too much into their sexual relationships and set too much store by them, making demands that immature males cannot afford to recognise. Greer on Sex and the Singly Woman Out of 3.8 million British women in their thirties, almost a million are single or divorced.

Not only are many women not at present half of a couple, and not likely to become so, but they are also sexually inactive, which is a dereliction of their duty to themselves and the body politic. There is very little they can do about this, bar spending a fortune on body, clothes, face and hair, because, though they can signal availability in a dozen ways, they cannot actually “make themselves attractive.” The power to make an object attractive lies with the beholder of the object, not the object itself. As a woman grows older, her chances of mating on any but humiliating terms grow less and less. The constant pressure to be sexually active, which has replaced the old pressure to reproduce, actually places unmated women in jeopardy, and fills them with anxiety and the sense of failure. It is the greater pity then that so many feminists accept and perpetuate the notion that people who are not sexually active are of no account. So let this feminist say it again: “No sex is better than bad sex.” Bad sex is bad for you. Looking for sex can be humiliating, disappointing and dangerous. Making yourself available can mean putting yourself in jeopardy. No sex does you no harm at all. As many a sole woman out there knows, being single and free is bliss compared to the misery inflicted by an unfair partner, good though the sex may have been. Besides, the things you want don’t tend to turn up until you have given over looking for them. Greer on Body Image “Show me a woman who loves her body” Every woman knows that, regardless of all her other achievements, she is a failure if she is not beautiful. She also knows that whatever beauty she has is leaving her, stealthily, day by day. Even if she is as freakishly beautiful as the supermodels whose images she sees replicated all around her until they are more familiar than the features of her own mother, she cannot be beautiful enough. There must be bits of her that will not do: her knees, her feet, her buttocks, her breasts. However much body hair she has, it is too much. However little and sweetly she sweats, it is too much. Left to her own devices, she is sure to smell bad. If her body is thin enough, her breasts are sad. If her breasts are full,

her arse is surely too big. What is pathological behaviour in a man is required of a woman. A bald man who wears a wig is a ridiculous figure; a bald woman who refuses to wear a wig is being stroppy and confrontational. Women with “too much” (i.E., any) body hair are expected to struggle daily with depilatories of all kinds in order to appear hairless. Scientists call abnormal preoccupation with a perceived defect in one’s appearance Body Dysmorphic Disorder, or BDD. Yet no one would say that the woman who puts herself through the agonising ordeal of hot-waxing her bikini-line must be suffering from BDD. Such insecurity has been instilled into women over generations; we have made not the least headway in the struggle to dispel it. Every issue of every woman’s magazine exploits women’s anxiety about “unwanted hair.” Even if you escape hairiness, you will fall foul of cellulite. When The Female Eunuch has written, “cellulite” was a French disease. The English word should by rights be “cellulitis,” but, as British pharmaceutical companies jumped on a bandwagon set off by sales campaigns for French products, they adopted the French word. Cellulite is subcutaneous fat, pure and simple. It keeps women warm and softens the contours of their bodies and, if it builds up, it often dimples. Whether or not your fat dimples is a matter of genetic endowment; some women have tight smooth fat and some women have softer fat, which droops and dimples, even on their knees, invariably on their bottoms. The characteristic orange-peel appearance can be seen even in the bottoms of babies who have not eaten chocolate, drunk coffee or alcohol or smoked, or committed any other of the sins that are punishable by cellulite. Once upon a time, men and women both admired dimply fat; it took 20th-century marketing to render it disgusting. Most of what is written about “globular fat cells,” “poor lymphatic drainage” and “toxins that have solidified” is cynical tosh.

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