Bob Marrow makes an interesting point about age and attraction.
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In one of Philip Roth’s last novels (“Exit Ghost”) the narrator (is it the author?), has fled the threats of a right-wing anti-Semitic terrorist to live reclusively on a mountain in New England. He has separated himself from daily newspapers and newscasts, from the news itself. Then, nearly a decade after leaving the City, he returns for a medical procedure intended to increase his control over the flow of urine which has become unmanageable due to prostate disease. The medical procedure doesn’t work and he still must use diapers under plastic underpants to keep from leaking into his clothes — the stench and wetness is a constant reminder of his physical decay.
Roth’s novel contains some literary subplots, but for my purpose the focus is on his unquenchable desire for a sexual relationship with a beautiful young woman (WASP, of course) who happens to be happily married. In the course of negotiating a transaction to temporarily swap his bucolic home on a mountain for her (and her husband’s) upper west side apartment, he becomes infatuated and won’t stop calling and visiting her.
As he has aged, this has become a familiar theme in Roth’s novels (“Everyman” is a good example) — physical decrepitude does not end or even diminish sexual desire. Here is Roth in “Exit Ghost” on facing the loss of potency until fantasy intervened:
“And so I set out to minimize the loss by struggling to pretend that desire had naturally abated, until I came in contact for barely an hour with a beautiful, privileged, intelligent, self-possessed, languid-looking 30-year-old made enticingly vulnerable by her fears and I experienced the bitter helplessness of a taunted old man dying to be whole again.”
When repeated appearances at her apartment, uninvited, do not achieve physical contact his longing motivates him to draft a play (or is this part of the novel — it’s hard to tell) in which he telephones her, almost stalking her, and finally persuades her to come to his hotel room. He is still irresistible!
But then reality strikes; what will happen when she gets there and finds him impotent, his formerly powerful member flaccid and soaked in foul smelling urine? We never find out, and neither does he, because he flees before she arrives.
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Now let’s move from fiction to reality. I am closely acquainted with a happily married 75 year old man, an executive in a successful business, who hired a young female assistant. She was smart and well qualified but more to the point, she was drop-dead gorgeous in the classy, intelligent way of the female reporters on the financial television stations like CNBC and Bloomberg TV. Her body was athletic and shapely and she had long legs that went all the way down to the ground, accentuated by short skirts and dresses and high heels she seemed to prefer. She had been a member of the varsity golf team at the University of Michigan prior to which she had excelled at junior golf tournaments competing on a national level in her early teenage years.
She was beautiful, graceful, clever, amusing, informed, liberal like himself; and lonely. This he learned at an office party for a departing employee where he found himself alone with her enjoying their third or fourth glass of wine. Their conversation turned to the difficulty she was having in finding a man who was not self centered and (emphasizing this) not sexually selfish. Such men did not seem to exist and she was resigned to being alone except for her girl friends, her job and golf.
During the weeks that followed the office party he called her to his office frequently for reasons that were obviously invented. Their conversations strayed from business and turned to her personal life including descriptions of her horrible dates and her dwindling chances to find a man worthy of her.
He secretly enjoyed the control he had over her time and her movements. His finger on the intercom button would summon her to his office where he had her stand in front of his desk until told to sit down. They knew that he was in control of her movements during the working day and now, more frequently, after hours on various pretexts. Control of this beautiful young woman had become exciting and habit forming. They complimented each other while making direct eye contact. He told her she was beautiful and talented; she assured him that he was the reason for the success of his company and that she valued his guidance in the office and in other ways. He knew that he was flirting with her but couldn’t be sure what she felt. The relationship was dodgy enough that he avoided mentioning her to his wife.
Then he took it a step farther. He was an avid golfer, but never very good. He wanted to see her swing and strike a golf ball, in his mind the sexiest thing a beautiful woman can do outside of the bedroom. He invited her to play at a public course in Greenwich CT, near where they worked but far enough away from Scarsdale where he lived so that they wouldn’t be seen by anyone he or his wife knew. They left work one day and played nine holes together in the late afternoon. Her fluid movements excited him more than he had anticipated, to the point where he felt a strong desire to hold her, to feel her body next to his.
At about this time his wife began to wonder why he was staying late at the office several times a week; something he had never done in the 30 years that he had worked at his company. She wanted to know if anyone else was working late with him. He could not lie directly — he was working with his assistant. His wife had met her, of course. Based on this and his demeanor, his wife suspected that something was going on. She confronted him, telling him that she was not comfortable with his relationship with his assistant. She wanted it to stop. He promoted the girl to a management position and had her moved to branch office for reasons he invented. He could never admit to his wife or the girl what he knew to be true; that he was flirting with someone young enough to be his granddaughter — and that his wife had caught-on. He wanted this young girl; he fantasized about her; he flirted with her. He thought she wanted him. Nothing more, but it was enough, too much.
Why did a 75 year old man think that he could be attractive to a beautiful, young woman; why did he flirt with her? Because she was beautiful, of course, but also, pathetically, because she was nice to him, because she complimented him. Although it disgusted him and shamed him, he was stimulated sexually by being able to control her, to have her come when he called, stand until allowed to sit, stay with him in his office and in the evenings whenever he told her to stay.
He fantasized about her and flirted with her because, even as an old man, he dreamed that he was attractive to a beautiful woman. Then, his wife brought him to his senses, or away from them.
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Photo credit: Gerald Pereira/flickr
Excellent. Thank you.