Author's Notes
: (I) This is the first of several parts in a series. This initial offering is PG-rated. Don't despair: do read it first and then turn right to Part 02 (X-Rated), which is being launched simultaneously.
Freud famously asked: "What does a woman want?" This series explores what a woman truly
needs
.
This memoir is from the late '90's. The author reminisces not to brag on an early "conquest" ---- he didn't think of it as such at the time. He regarded it as typical, the norm for relations between the sexes.
Our protagonist couldn't know how notions of what is "normal" between men and women would change so very much over the ensuing years; today his attitudes of how men naturally should lead and women naturally follow, notions that are Biblically-based and served as the norm for countless centuries, are considered quaint. Though views about the "war between the sexes" have changed dramatically, few people today seem to link such revisions with the unhappy personal lives independent women often seem to face today. The author is pro-feminist where it counts. But the evolved "feminist" mind-set that women don't need men, can do it all on their own, ignores a basic fact: as an "independent" woman (one not inclined to be a "Proverbs 31" mate) ages, often she ends up alone and unhappy.
Here is a young, self-assured man (whom many today would describe pejoratively as a "dominant" or, worse yet, "controlling"), barely of legal age, beginning to realize the immense authority he can exercise over women (even savvy, self-confident, sexually-liberated femmes) by providing what they innately need: guidance, direction, supervision, rules, structure.
Some might argue that the protagonist holds women in low regard, treats them as disposable. Not true: he loves women, all women, and his ephemeral intentions are made clear from the very beginning to those with whom he interacts. In his own way, he cherishes them and leaves each one far better off than their initial unmoored state.
(II) The original French words set forth are the precise language used. But the English translation provided is idiomatic, not literal. Young people used slang then, as they do now. Some of the translated English phrases herein were not even in common usage when this episode occurred, but are the best modern expressions to reflect the behaviors and ideas involved.
-------------------
He was young and travelling alone. His first trip to France: seven nights in Paris followed by five on the Mediterranean. Very late May, school just out, a nice time of year. He didn't know much French, but he was quick to pick up languages: he had passable Spanish and had been a Latin scholar. He had been studying helpful phrases from a French-English dictionary for a few weeks, and struggled (as do all beginners of the Gallic language) with pronunciation.
He checked into an inexpensive, clean tourist hotel in one of the less-fashionable
Arrondissement
s
. It was next to a Metro Station, and travelling by subway and foot was the likely mode for this budget-conscious traveler's stay. Arriving at 2:00 p.m. the first day, our tourist ate a light meal in the hotel's little Bistro (bread, cheese, piece of fruit, a glass of white wine), and turned in very early to kill the jet lag. Up at 10:00 the next morning, there was no need to worry about being "lagged" the rest of the trip.
Out and about before the lunch hour, this young man had seen the Notre Dame Cathedral, eaten at an outdoor café, and trekked to Musée du Louvre (commonly called "the Louvre"), inarguably the greatest art museum in the history of mankind. He spent four hours traversing the museum's four-and-a-half acres of priceless artworks.
Walking through the second gallery, our tourist noticed a young woman, around 34 or 35, almost certainly a
Parisienne
, sitting on an observation bench and contemplating a study by Paul Seurat. She was tall, a lithe and slender woman with a gymnast's supple body, dressed simply in a short skirt and light sweater that showed off her modest breasts to nice effect. Our American visitor appeared to ignore her.
A little over an hour later, our traveler walked through the same gallery (in the opposite direction) to make a shortcut to a sculpture exhibit. And sitting there ---- same bench, same expression, still staring intently at the Seurat ---- was the same young woman. Slowing, so he could address her without breaking stride, the tourist (let's call him Arthur) bent over slightly as he walked past her, and whispered: "Il ne s'agit que d'une étude. L'original se bloque à Chicago."["This is only a study. The original hangs in Chicago."]
"Avez-vous vu?"
she asked. ["Have you seen it?"] She used
"vu,"
the familiar term for "you" in French, reserved for family members and intimates; or children. This was not lost on him: he was young, but he was not
that
