The reason I am deferring the sensational Cenci story is that yesterday's New York Times op-ed piece by Camille Paglia entitled "No Sex Please, We're Middle Class," engendered a very interesting discussion in my household this morning. (Only adults over the age of 18 were involved in the discussion).Paglia, a noted feminist and social commentator, argues that a female version of Viagra is not the answer to the problem of "sexual malaise" that is rampant in our country. It's not quite clear from her essay what the real problem is, because she throws in everything from gender roles to rock n' roll, but her thesis is that interest in sex is a class issue. Middle-class, working women have dulled down their sex drive by becoming too masculine and by emasculating their husbands. The two sexes, albeit in a certain income bracket, have lost the essence of femininity and masculinity. What exactly that essence consists of is not made clear by Paglia, except that it has something to do with shopping at Victoria's Secret.
I am not going to refer directly to personal experience here, except to say that there is nothing that can make a woman feel less sexy than spending twelve hours at home alone with two young kids, with barely a moment to go to the bathroom alone, let alone change out of the spit-up and water paint-laced t-shirt she managed to change into at twelve noon. After a few years of this, reading the paper on the 8am train dressed in a skirt and blouse could be more of a turn on than when Baby undresses Johnny and dances with him to the music of Solomon Burke's "Cry to Me" in Dirty Dancing.
It would make more sense that a couple that can afford to pay a babysitter, and afford to go to the movies and out to dinner one night a week, might actually be able to enjoy each other's company enough to want to have sex. However, after blaming "the white collar realm," Paglia goes on to target Hollywood and video games. Hollywood no longer produces romance with innuendo, she says, and video games turn women into skinny, large-breasted super heroines.
It may be true that Hollywood has lost the art of good writing, but romantic comedies, or, "chick-flicks" as they are currently referred to, abound. I recently saw a charming one called "Letters to Juliet," with Vanessa Redgrave. Okay, so I saw it with my fifteen-year-old, but it was still very romantic. And the vampire "Twilight" series, which has captured the hormones of young girls everywhere has more than enough innuendo, with all that neck biting, heavy petting, and serious eye gazing. I don't think it is worth even discussing any adult male or female who lets video games influence their libido.
But maybe my biggest problem with Paglia's essay is that she offers no support. Sorry, but the English composition teacher in me refuses to accept an argument without some hard core, factual support. She doesn't bother to say what percentage of women are affected by this loss of sexual enthusiasm, what age group they fall into (pre or post-menopausal)or even what their actual income bracket is. She does, however, throw in a nice throwback reference to the "white bourgeoise." Apparently, the only people who are having sex are working-class minorities and country music fans.
My biggest complaint of all is that she doesn't even bother to cite the demographics of who shops at Victoria's Secret! Last time I was there, there were plenty of white, middle class women with their little pink cards in hand. But as my daughter would say at this point, "Mom, TMI!"*
*too much information
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