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Sexual Politics
If I had to be killed by someone...Quite an ending.
It invites an explanation, perhaps “how the imagination, the sexual imagination, men’s ancient dreams of hurting, and women’s of being hurt, embodied and declared a powerful single organizing principle, which distorted all relations, all truth.” (P.126) Mary and Colin love each other. Yuck. They forget they are not the same person, spending days on end making love and talking. They fear that “private thoughts would destroy what they shared” (p.82) and want to chain themselves to each other and throw away the key. And then there are some less conventional manifestations of their intimacy, like Colin’s surgery or Mary’s machine.
Against the equal, non-hierarchal relationship of Colin and Mary there is Robert and Caroline. Caroline likes to feel pain for the fact of pain itself, pain in a context, punishment and guilt, and remembers Hamlet as being about “someone locked up in a convent”. Right… The real prize is Robert, a man whose problems would make Freud, to use an apt expression, crap his pants. He misses the “real” men. He misses the time when women did what they were told. He’s obsessed with little relics and razors from the patriarchal past, “which, Mary said, was the most powerful single principle of organization shaping institutions and individual lives.” (p.80)
I’m not sure what Venice did to McEwan to deserve this story (food poisoning? poorly drawn maps?) but the aspects of travel play a unique role in this story. It seems Colin and Mary’s big flaw is that they love each other too much: “Alone, perhaps, they could have explored the city with pleasure, followed whims, dispensed with destinations and so enjoyed or ignored being lost…their intimacy, rather like too many suitcases, was a matter of perpetual concern; together they moved slowly, clumsily, effecting lugubrious compromises, attending to delicate shifts of mood, repairing breaches.” (P.13) Their lives are tied too closely to one another; with love and intimacy come limitations, constraints – a poetic turn to the “ball and chain”.
As Colin is being escorted to Robert’s house (Robert, the one who has stalks him, refers to him as his homosexual lover, who replies enigmatically to questions of Mary’s welfare and talks of his “preparations” for the two) he stops and looks down a narrow street: “It asked to be explored, but explored alone, without consultations with, or obligations towards, a companion. To step down there now as if completely free, to be released from the arduous states of play of psychological condition, to have leisure to be open and attentive to perception, to the world whose breathtaking, incessant cascade against the senses was so easily and habitually ignored, dinned out, in the interests of unexamined ideals of personal responsibility, efficiency, citizenship, to step down there now, just walk away, melt into the shadow, would be so very easy.“ (p.106) He chooses Mary though, and continues to Robert’s flat. That climax is a very beautiful and romantic if you think about it. He chooses Mary, and sacrifices himself (ironically echoing Caroline’s definition of love): “I’ll do whatever you want…But please get a doctor for Mary.” (p.122)
Whether you agree with it or not, McEwan has applied sadomasochism to the nature (arguably, rather, the history) of male-female relations; women love and submit to the aggression, power and strength in men. It is deep within us. Women “dream of captivity” (p.71) This is “inevitable, logical…[irresistible]” (p.111) As “it” is about to happen, Caroline and Robert say that God is in on their plot, that they knew the couple would return, that Colin and Mary understood all along what was happening; that they were somehow complicit.
So what’s the point?
1) If you are in a relationship where there the man and woman are on equal footing, the sexual politics of human nature and history will eventually manifest itself as a burly Italian man who rapes and kills you.
2) Robert and Caroline are out of their goddamn minds.
3) #1, but McEwan wants people to still like him so he implies #2.
4) Gives readers a much-appreciated excuse to research S&M on the internet.
5) #3 and #4
6) #5


There is a big difference
There is a big difference between something being in our nature and being in our history. I'm pointing out that it's impossible for McEwan, or anyone else for that matter, to pinpoint the causes of patriarchal society. Is it because of the inherintly submissive nature in women or is this "inherintly" submissive nature only an idea perpetuated throughout history; nature or nurture? I don't think it's particularly fruitful, in a book as ambiguous and complex as McEwan's, to pin a character as the "villain" and dismiss him or her as black-against-white. And if "whatever the villain says can be treated as the opposite of what the author believes", then McEwan IS "presenting his opinions on sexism and feminism" - namely, the opposite of Caroline and Robert.
I don't think McEwan endorses Robert and Caroline's view of men and women (see #1,#2,#3) but rather applies sadomasochism as an extreme sort of allegory to point out the subtler forms of male-female hierarchy in our society.
Ian McEwan's Views on Gender Relations
I'm not quite sure if you're saying that Ian McEwan believes that it's in women's nature (or as you say, in history) to submit to men, and in men's nature to dominate woman, but I disagree with that statement. He presents this point quite obviously, I admit, but I don't think he believes it. He toys with the idea throughout the book, but when he finally presents the idea it is through Caroline's voice, who is one of the villains of the book. Usually, whatever the villain says can be treated as the opposite of what the author believes. I think Ian McEwan's early works, if not his later works (I have only read his first two novels), often deal with sexism and male-female relations. In the time when he wrote the earlier books, feminism was a new movement, and it seems to me that he's exploring feminism through his writing, not making general statements about how women and men are. In his first book, the Cement Garden, there is a serious theme of a power struggle between a brother and a sister and several conversations about women vs. men. The narrator is the boy, but the sister gets her opinion across quite well. I never find him presenting his own opinion on sexism and feminism, however, and I think it is the same way in the Comfort of Strangers.