N.C. Harrison reflects on his lengthy, comfortable stay in the friend zone.
I have noticed, in my weary traversals of what is known as the “gender blogosphere,” an increasingly common meme which sagely states that men and women either cannot simply be friends without some element of sexual interest on the part of one or both parties–usually at least the male–and, furthermore, that attraction must be immediate and strong, striking like an arc of lightning which leaps across the room instead of a slow burning fire.
The notion of courtship, or even companionship, becomes replaced by a festival atmosphere. The young males gather, chanting their glories around a bonfire in post-modern dithyrambs while the young females pass excruciatingly exact judgement on them from their divine benches, selecting which ones among them seem worthy for a night of passion. The scene resembles, more than anything, the kind of pagan orgy which could get some unsuspecting Israelites into a very great deal of trouble and ought to be directed by Cecil B. DeMille.
I wonder, on occasion, if I am broken in some fundamental way. At others I simply sigh and thank my Advanced Placement British literature teacher for introducing me to Thomas Hardy’s Far From the Madding Crowd and its description of Gabriel Oak, since it seems to fit me so very, very well in so many ways: “In short, he was twenty-eight, and a bachelor.”
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The whole thing leaves me feeling sort of left out. It’s not that I couldn’t join in the fun, such as it is. I’m sure–being a red-blooded and relatively healthy male–that I could clash my spear on my shield and chant hymns to Dionysus with the best of my fellow young hoplites, but I generally do not wish to and cannot bring myself to generate much enthusiasm for the trials and tribulations that such competition with my fellows for the most ephemeral of favors would bring. Is it that I lack passion? Perhaps. Although I have been on my own fair share of dates, even recently (I have chronicled those cheerful failures for you good people in some detail) I have not felt the icy blast of instantaneous attraction on my face in some good time, a few years at least.
I wonder, on occasion–usually late at night–if I am broken in some fundamental way. At others I simply sigh and thank my Advanced Placement British literature teacher for introducing me to Thomas Hardy’s Far From the Madding Crowd and its description of Gabriel Oak, since it seems to fit me so very, very well in so many ways: “In short, he was twenty-eight, and a bachelor.”
This is not to say that I don’t love the ladies, though, even if this is in a sense more oblique than explosive. Most of my best friends are female and I often feel uncomfortable in the rougher company of men. I spent a lot of time in a lot of locker rooms over the years–to the point that stale sweat soaked into athletic gear is a comforting smell for me, just like the rubber floors of weight rooms. I got my fill of locker room talk there, in locker rooms, and don’t feel the need to regress.
My larger point is this: I have many woman friends, most of them talented artists, all of them beautiful in one way or another, each of them wonderful company, and I do not feel a compelling desire to pursue a sexual relationship with any of them.
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My larger point is this: I have many woman friends, most of them talented artists, all of them beautiful in one way or another, each of them wonderful company, and I do not feel a compelling desire to pursue a sexual relationship with any of them. Either I am broken, as I said before, or the meme is broken, or maybe the grand tapestry of human relationships is more complicated than a “general rule” spouted by online Aristotles–and I’m not even one of those, more like poor old homeless Diogenes sunning himself on a rock–can suffice to say.
I am buoyed and comforted when I read interviews with Fred Armisen and Carrie Brownstein, of Portlandia. In addition to being one of the funniest pairs I’ve ever encountered (and one third of two absolutely ass-kicking rock bands, in Carrie’s case, as well as being the only woman on Rolling Stone’s list of the most underrated guitar players of all time… and I would be remiss if I didn’t also mention Armisen’s time in Trenchmouth) they also present a paradigm of male-female relationships that makes me feel a little bit more at ease. Both have described the relationship as devoted, romantic and totally platonic (see Margaret Talbot’s excellent New Yorker piece for more on this). Brownstein calls it the most successful love affair that either of them has ever had–something that I feel is certainly true about many of my platonic friendships–and Armisen calls the relationship more romantic than any romance because he can think not of a sense of obligation, but simply that he loves Carrie. The only words that bubble out of my lips when I read this, or hear them patiently explain to David Letterman that they are not dating, is, “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.”
I remember sitting with friends, mostly gals but a few guys too, at school while I wrote or studied and they worked on art projects, neither of us talking for hours but existing in gorgeous harmony. If I had work but my friend did not, on occasion I ended up with a sleepy artist nodding off on my shoulder. If I was done with my work but didn’t feel like cutting class because I had already done that way too much in any given semester, I might just sit and watch the drawing, painting and sculpting that went on around me.
This is what love feels like to me, not a burst of energy or anything sticky. I think of what Ruth said to Naomi, how she would go where Naomi went and make Naomi’s people her own. I think about the depths of Jonathan and David’s caring, loving each other as they loved their own souls and acting as each other’s shields in battle, or Elisha telling Elijah that he would not leave him not only so long as he lived but so long as Adonai Himself lived. I cry, “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful!” again or, in tribute to my patron seraph of poetry Alan Ginsberg, “Holy! Holy! Holy!” Maybe I’m not broken…or at least not irrevocably so. Or, if I am, then at least I’m broken in the company of good friends, in the light of Aristotle’s third philia.
The writer sounds … do you love that word “sound” to mean tone in prose? … like Barry, with whom I shared one long evening date that included a chamber music concert and dinner. At dinner after the concert, Barry told me that he had dated hundreds of women yet had had a relationship with none. I doubted that Barry meant he had bedded hundreds; he did say dated hundreds. His diction was upper, as this writer’s diction is. I find I like this piece, created of the writer’s corny drawing room Biblical voice, yet the piece disappoints ever so… Read more »
In your haste to insult my natural pattern of speaking, ol’ Barry and chamber music you seem to have missed my point: I do not like seeing non-sexual relationships treated like “second class” relationships when they have depth, richness, intimacy, beauty and importance in and of themselves, not just as a means to an end.
I love this comment. Intimacy and connection is extremely satisfying, and absolutely whole in itself. People tend to confuse biological mating urges as being the whole point of life. We’re more than mating. Even sexual behaviour when reduced to pure mating is not satisfying, but simply scratching an itch only to have it resurface again. As a female who fully enjoys friendships, yes often there is sexual attraction within a friendship but so? I don’t believe that takes away from it, unless you decide that it does. It is a shame that “lonely” people who are desperate for connection, cannot… Read more »
What women want first is men they can trust. When we can’t trust, you can’t be friends with us, let alone have sex. I am originally from Turkey. I used to have many male friends there but not here. EVERYTHING seems to revolve around sex. we can’t hangout with guys and enjoy the company of the opposite sex without them waiting for an opportunity to pounce on us. Trust me. Men in Europe do NOT have less testosterone in them. Men in America are just not bred and brainwashed “sex” all the time. Sex culture here is about money. Sex… Read more »
Great comment. Thanks for going into it, about Americans and American life.
What ‘Agenda’ would that be? Oh right, basic biological impulses to mate and reproduce.. I keep forgetting that only human males aren’t allowed to have those while every other organism on the planet is. You think any straight guy would listen to you natter on about TV shows or Scrapbooking if he wasn’t going to get to have sex with you? you clearly are overestimating your own importance. A woman I know tried to start talking to me about clothes and I completely shut her down. I’m not interested in what she’s wearing, where she bought it, or how she… Read more »
@ J “I do find it.. some what frustrating however that the women who *I* just want to be friends with, are also the ones who seem to be the most interested in me in a sexual/romantic light.. where as the ones who I find attractive as potential romantic partners are always the ones who just want to be my friend. Story of my life. Oh well..” I am confused. Just what is it that you want? Do you want a girlfriend or simply to get laid? It certainly seems there are women who want to fuck you. Right? But,… Read more »
Certainly the ones *I* find hot tend to be less interested than the ones *I* do not find hot. You’re mileage as far as what constitutes ‘Hot’ will of course vary. As far as whether I just want a lay or a girlfriend, all I want is to not get stuck with the lame boring parts of the relationship, and never get the awesome fun parts of the relationship. Does that include sex? Sure, is it solely about sex? no. I’m tired of getting cast in the role of “Emotionally supportive backup boyfriend Role” and never getting cast in the… Read more »
@Banu, You make some very very good points, indeed. You state, “Men in the U.S here are brainwashed. They miss out on healing in the company of women. They try to feel masculine through their penis.” Brainwashed by whom I might ask? When you live in a culture today where most men are rejected by women to a point of not even wanting to talk to them (the ‘strange’ men nonsense) this is what it breeds. I am very skeptical of your ‘trust’ assertion. There are clearly many women here in America who have lots of sex with men whom… Read more »
Wow, I’m taken aback from the entire way in which you communicated your thoughts. I envisioned you on stage like Romeo and Juliet speaking aloud with one arm in the air the other on your sword with what you just wrote and I … I caught up in such a gallant flow and order of your speech carrying my thoughts and I lost myself in them ignoring the point you were making (although I got it)! Doesn’t matter what point you were making. Your writing took my breath away!
I agree with the quiet love thing you mentioned. For me, the kind of loud, passionate, desperate love speaks more to emotional problems and people who have been raised to think that love and success in love is the answer to everything. But then, I’ve always been a quiet emotions kind of person. So maybe it’s just that.
Sorry, not interested. I mean, I get it, some people can manage to have opposite sex platonic friendships.. but I have 50% of the worlds population to be friends with, I don’t want to add women who aren’t interested in me romantically or sexually to that list. I have no reason to be friends with a woman. None of my guy friends are going to ask me to support them emotionally, or go buy them tampons at 3am, or whatever.. but I’ve had women-friends do that and other things in the past.. and I’m simply no longer interested in playing… Read more »
Terribly sorry that you’ve had such bad experiences which have colored your perceptions of an entire gender and have made you so… hmm… cynical towards them. Maybe cynical isn’t the word. It’s dark but not adequate. Alas. It’s definitely something to consider because such attitudes, left unchecked in the wrong soil, might lead one to a bitter or unhealthy place. For what it’s worth, I have never had a friend–male or female–ask me to do anything like what you’re describing. Such a person would very rapidly find him or herself on the outs with me but, as it so happens,… Read more »
My problem is effectively this, I never seem to get to be *Just* friends, but I perpetually seem to become the backup boyfriend who women will “Cheat on” their real boyfriends with emotionally. And I never seem to ever get to be the “Physical” boyfriend, or at least no interest from any women I would actually consider having sex with anyway. Nope, the ones I actually think are attractive never seem to find me so. And basically every “friend” I’ve had who is a woman has managed to some how fall into that pattern. So yes, I admit, my experiences… Read more »
Your life is going to probably very lonely then. That stinks.