Monday, December 04, 2006

Be Devilish...But Then Stop


In my opinion, the average woman has an interesting way of reacting to male aggression. I’m sure men find it quite confusing. I think it may just be that we females are a bit at cross purposes when it comes to sex.

On the one hand, our primordial brain responds powerfully to male aggression. The macho, forceful, studly guy turns us on in spite of any rational thinking. He can be pushy, demanding, even threatening, and in response we feel the seductive urge to submit.

But on the other hand, women are also rational creatures. As such, we respond to kindness, protectiveness, and sensitivity, very opposite traits to those listed above. Logic tells us a macho guy will probably not prove the best mate in the long run.

But the problem is, you really want to have sex with him in the short run. What’s a girl to do?

Once again, fantasy life comes to the rescue. In our imaginations, we get to have it both ways: We can be assaulted, even violently, by the macho man and enjoy the deep-seated thrill it give our primordial brain. (I know it’s not PC to mention rape fantasies, but honestly, most of us have had them, after a fashion and of course very different from real rape.) But then the fellow can be transformed--by circumstance, revelation, or best of all, our love--into that gentleman a woman could spend her life with.

Have you read a few books like that?

Yes, some of us do want both Rhett Butler and Ashley Wilkes. And only in fantasy are you going to get them both in one man, unless you find a nice one who will play at being nasty for fun. Would that more men had that act mastered. Which brings me to my anecdote.

Yes, naturally I have an anecdote to share that inspired this whole line of thinking. As you know, I’ve been fixated lately on Edward James Olmos, aka Admiral Adama from “Battlestar Galactica.” You don’t have to be a fan of the show to follow this, so stick with me here. In this role he plays a firm and determined but very kind and honorable man. Meanwhile, in real life EJO is a wonderful guy who gives profusely of his time and money in a number of humanitarian causes, particularly related to U.S. Hispanics and their culture. In short: good guy, very kind hearted, gentle, and protective.

Meanwhile however, Mr. Almos has played a number of really rough roles in theater, TV and film. Last night I watched him reprise his role from Broadway in the film version of the musical “Zoot Suit.” As El Pachuco, he is a fantasy figure (an element of the protagonist’s psyche, actually) that utterly embodies macho. He sambas seductively, sings in that velvet voice of his, and oozes sex from every pore. He lurks, he skulks, he advises violence and makes cynical pronouncements about life. He’s hostile, cruel, dangerous, cynical, sinister, fearless.

He’s not my type at all and he absolutely sends me.

This is the kind of character you picture bending you over a table and saying, “I will take you right here, chica, and you will like it,” and you completely agree with him.

If I were really in L.A. in 1940 in a bar with a bunch of Pachucos, I would say in abject terror, “Easy, carnal, I would rather just leave if you promise to leave your switchblade in your pocket.”

But you see, I know the actor, and I know he’s just performing, and that underneath that black zoot suit and intensely red shirt lies a heart of gold. I’ll play the game with this particular fellow, because I know he’ll be devilish and then stop. I’ll let him hike up my silky red skirt and do his worst to me, and it’s fantasy so it will be like a tango.

What in real life would be a nightmare, in dreams is a delight. Isn’t that often the way it is? But often those kind of dreams are the most powerful of all.

Now we just need more men like Edward James Olmos, who can play the devil but live like an angel....

1 comment:

Ruthie Black naked said...

Great anecdote:
People say I imitate SCARLETT O'HARA, since we're both bitches. But I'm as genuine as she was, since we were from the same neck of the Georgia woods, and we both were stars of novels.

I saw MARGARET MITCHELL meet her tragic death on the sidewalk outside the Fox theater in 1949. (The Egyptian style theater in Atlanta where the movie GONE WITH THE WIND had premiered). A taxi hit her as she was crossing the street, looking up at the theater's marquee where her name was displayed prominently. I tried to warm her of the taxi, but she didn't seem to hear me.
www.ruthieblacknaked.blogspot.com