CHAPTER V

THE LOVE-RIGHTS OF WOMEN

What is the part of woman, one is sometimes asked, in the sex act? Must it

be the wife's concern in the marital embrace to sacrifice her own wishes

from a sense of love and duty towards her husband? Or is the wife entitled

to an equal mutual interest and joy in this act with her husband? It seems

a simple problem. In so fundamental a relationship, which goes back to the

beginning of sex in the dawn of life, it might appear that we could leave

Nature to decide. Yet it is not so. Throughout the history of

civilisation, wherever we can trace the feelings and ideas which have

prevailed on this matter and the resultant conduct, the problem has

existed, often to produce discord, conflict, and misery. The problem still

exists to-day and with as important results as in the past.

In Nature, before the arrival of Man, it can scarcely be said indeed that

any difficulty existed. It was taken for granted at that time that the

female had both the right to her own body, and the right to a certain

amount of enjoyment in the use of it. It often cost the male a serious

amount of trouble--though he never failed to find it worth while--to

explain to her the point where he may be allowed to come in, and to

persuade her that he can contribute to her enjoyment. So it generally is

throughout Nature, before we reach Man, and, though it is not invariably

obvious, we often find it even among the unlikeliest animals. As is well

known, it is most pronounced among the birds, who have in some species

carried the erotic art,--and the faithful devotion which properly

accompanied the erotic art as being an essential part of it,--to the

highest point. We have here the great natural fact of courtship.

Throughout Nature, wherever we meet with animals of a high type, often

indeed when they are of a lowly type--provided they have not been rendered

unnatural by domestication--every act of sexual union is preceded by a

process of courtship. There is a sound physiological reason for this

courtship, for in the act of wooing and being wooed the psychic excitement

gradually generated in the brains of the two partners acts as a stimulant

to arouse into full activity the mechanism which ensures sexual union and

aids ultimate impregnation. Such courtship is thus a fundamental natural

fact.

It is as a natural fact that we still find it in full development among a

large number of peoples of the lower races whom we are accustomed to

regard as more primitive than ourselves. New conditions, it is true, soon

enter to complicate the picture presented by savage courtship. The

economic element of bargaining, destined to prove so important, comes in

at an early stage. And among peoples leading a violent life, and

constantly fighting, it has sometimes happened, though not always, that

courtship also has been violent. This is not so frequent as was once

supposed. With better knowledge it was found that the seeming brutality

once thought to take the place of courtship among various peoples in a low

state of culture was really itself courtship, a rough kind of play

agreeable to both parties and not depriving the feminine partner of her

own freedom of choice. This was notably the case as regards so-called

"marriage by capture." While this is sometimes a real capture, it is more

often a mock capture; the lover perhaps pursues the beloved on horseback,

but she is as fleet and as skilful as he is, cannot be captured unless she

wishes to be captured, and in addition, as among the Kirghiz, she may be

armed with a formidable whip; so that "marriage by capture," far from

being a hardship imposed on women is largely a concession to their modesty

and a gratification of their erotic impulses. Even when the chief part of

the decision rests with masculine force courtship is still not necessarily

or usually excluded, for the exhibition of force by a lover,--and this is

true for civilised as well as for savage women,--is itself a source of

pleasurable stimulation, and when that is so the essence of courtship may

be attained even more successfully by the forceful than by the humble

lover.

The evolution of society, however, tended to overlay and sometimes even to

suppress those fundamental natural tendencies. The position of the man as

the sole and uncontested head of the family, the insistence on paternity

and male descent, the accompanying economic developments, and the tendency

to view a woman less as a self-disposing individual than as an object of

barter belonging to her father, the consequent rigidity of the marriage

bond and the stern insistence on wifely fidelity--all these conditions of

developing civilisation, while still leaving courtship possible,

diminished its significance and even abolished its necessity. Moreover, on

the basis of the social, economic, and legal developments thus

established, new moral, spiritual, and religious forces were slowly

generated, which worked on these rules of merely exterior order, and

interiorised them, thus giving them power over the souls as well as over

the bodies of women.

The result was that, directly and indirectly, the legal, economic, and

erotic rights of women were all diminished. It is with the erotic rights

only that we are here concerned.

No doubt in its erotic aspects, as well as in its legal and economic

aspects, the social order thus established was described, and in good

faith, as beneficial to women, and even as maintained in their interests.

Monogamy and the home, it was claimed, alike existed for the benefit and

protection of women. It was not so often explained that they greatly

benefited and protected men, with, moreover, this additional advantage

that while women were absolutely confined to the home, men were free to

exercise their activities outside the home, even, with tacit general

consent, on the erotic side.

Whatever the real benefits, and there is no occasion for questioning them,

of the sexual order thus established, it becomes clear that in certain

important respects it had an unnatural and repressive influence on the

erotic aspect of woman's sexual life. It fostered the reproductive side of

woman's sexual life, but it rendered difficult for her the satisfaction of

the instinct for that courtship which is the natural preliminary of

reproductive activity, an instinct even more highly developed in the

female than in the male, and the more insistent because in the order of

Nature the burden of maternity is preceded by the reward of pleasure. But

the marriage order which had become established led to the indirect

result of banning pleasure in women, or at all events in wives. It was

regarded as too dangerous, and even as degrading. The women who wanted

pleasure were not considered fit for the home, but more suited to be

devoted to an exclusive "life of pleasure," which soon turned out to be

not their own pleasure but men's. A "life of pleasure," in that sense or

in any other sense, was not what more than a small minority of women ever

desired. The desire of women for courtship is not a thing by itself, and

was not implanted for gratification by itself. It is naturally

intertwined--and to a much greater degree than the corresponding desire in

men--with her deepest personal, family, and social instincts, so that if

these are desecrated and lost its charm soon fades.

The practices and the ideals of this established morality were both due to

men, and both were so thoroughly fashioned that they subjugated alike the

actions and the feelings of women. There is no sphere which we regard as

so peculiarly women's sphere as that of love. Yet there is no sphere which

in civilisation women have so far had so small a part in regulating. Their

deepest impulses--their modesty, their maternity, their devotion, their

emotional receptivity--were used, with no conscious and deliberate

Machiavellism, against themselves, to mould a moral world for their

habitation which they would not themselves have moulded. It is not of

modern creation, nor by any means due, as some have supposed, to the

asceticism of Christianity, however much Christianity may have reinforced

it. Indeed one may say that in course of time Christianity had an

influence in weakening it, for Christianity discovered a new reservoir of

tender emotion, and such emotion may be transferred, and, as a matter of

fact, was transferred, from its first religious channel into erotic

channels which were thereby deepened and extended, and without reference

to any design of Christianity. For the ends we achieve are often by no

means those which we set out to accomplish. In ancient classic days this

moral order was even more severely established than in the Middle Ages.

Montaigne, in the sixteenth century, declared that "marriage is a devout

and religious relationship, the pleasures derived from it should be

restrained and serious, mixed with some severity." But in this matter he

was not merely expressing the Christian standpoint but even more that of

paganism, and he thoroughly agreed with the old Greek moralist that a man

should approach his wife "prudently and severely" for fear of inciting her

to lasciviousness; he thought that marriage was best arranged by a third

party, and was inclined to think, with the ancients, that women are not

fitted to make friends of. Montaigne has elsewhere spoken with insight of

women's instinctive knowledge of the art and discipline of love and has

pointed out how men have imposed their own ideals and rules of action on

women from whom they have demanded opposite and contradictory virtues;

yet, we see, he approves of this state of things and never suggests that

women have any right to opinions of their own or feelings of their own

when the sacred institution of marriage is in question.

Montaigne represents the more exalted aspects of the Pagan-Christian

conception of morality in marriage which still largely prevails. But that

conception lent itself to deductions, frankly accepted even by Montaigne

himself, which were by no means exalted. "I find," said Montaigne, "that

Venus, after all, is nothing more than the pleasure of discharging our

vessels, just as nature renders pleasurable the discharges from other

parts." Sir Thomas More among Catholics, and Luther among Protestants,

said exactly the same thing in other and even clearer words, while untold

millions of husbands in Christendom down to to-day, whether or not they

have had the wit to put their theory into a phrase, have regularly put it

into practice, at all events within the consecrated pale of marriage, and

treated their wives, "severely and prudently," as convenient utensils for

the reception of a natural excretion.

Obviously, in this view of marriage, sexual activity was regarded as an

exclusively masculine function, in the exercise of which women had merely

a passive part to play. Any active participation on her side thus seemed

unnecessary, and even unbefitting, finally, though only in comparatively

modern times, disgusting and actually degrading. Thus Acton, who was

regarded half a century ago as the chief English authority on sexual

matters, declared that, "happily for society," the supposition that women

possess sexual feelings could be put aside as "a vile aspersion," while

another medical authority of the same period stated in regard to the most

simple physical sign of healthy sexual emotion that it "only happens in

lascivious women." This final triumph of the masculine ideals and rule of

life was, however, only achieved slowly. It was the culmination of an

elaborate process of training. At the outset men had found it impossible

to speak too strongly of the "wantonness" of women. This attitude was

pronounced among the ancient Greeks and prominent in their dramatists.

Christianity again, which ended by making women into the chief pillars of

the Church, began by regarding them as the "Gate of Hell." Again, later,

when in the Middle Ages this masculine moral order approached the task of

subjugating the barbarians of Northern Europe, men were horrified at the

licentiousness of those northern women at whose coldness they are now

shocked.

That, indeed, was, as Montaigne had seen, the central core of conflict in

the rule of life imposed by men on woman. Men were perpetually striving,

by ways the most methodical, the most subtle, the most far-reaching, to

achieve a result in women, which, when achieved, men themselves viewed

with dismay. They may be said to be moved in this sphere by two passions,

the passion for virtue and the passion for vice. But it so happens that

both these streams of passion have to be directed at the same fascinating

object: Woman. No doubt nothing is more admirable than the skill with

which women have acquired the duplicity necessary to play the two

contradictory parts thus imposed upon them. But in that requirement the

play of their natural reactions tended to become paralysed, and the

delicate mechanism of their instincts often disturbed. They were

forbidden, except in a few carefully etiquetted forms, the free play of

courtship, without which they could not perform their part in the erotic

life with full satisfaction either to themselves or their partners. They

were reduced to an artificial simulation of coldness or of warmth,

according to the particular stage of the dominating masculine ideal of

woman which their partner chanced to have reached. But that is an attitude

equally unsatisfactory to themselves and to their lovers, even when the

latter have not sufficient insight to see through its unreality. It is an

attitude so unnatural and artificial that it inevitably tends to produce a

real coldness which nothing can disguise. It is true that women whose

instincts are not perverted at the roots do not desire to be cold. Far

from it. But to dispel that coldness the right atmosphere is needed, and

the insight and skill of the right man. In the erotic sphere a woman asks

nothing better of a man than to be lifted above her coldness, to the

higher plane where there is reciprocal interest and mutual joy in the act

of love. Therein her silent demand is one with Nature's. For the

biological order of the world involves those claims which, in the human

range, are the erotic rights of women.

The social claims of women, their economic claims, their political claims,

have long been before the world. Women themselves have actively asserted

them, and they are all in process of realisation. The erotic claims of

women, which are at least as fundamental, are not publicly voiced, and

women themselves would be the last to assert them. It is easy to

understand why that should be so. The natural and acquired qualities of

women, even the qualities developed in the art of courtship, have all been

utilised in building up the masculine ideal of sexual morality; it is on

feminine characteristics that this masculine ideal has been based, so

that women have been helpless to protest against it. Moreover, even if

that were not so, to formulate such rights is to raise the question

whether there so much as exists anything that can be called "erotic

rights." The right to joy cannot be claimed in the same way as one claims

the right to put a voting paper in a ballot box. A human being's erotic

aptitudes can only be developed where the right atmosphere for them

exists, and where the attitudes of both persons concerned are in

harmonious sympathy. That is why the erotic rights of women have been the

last of all to be attained.

Yet to-day we see a change here. The change required is, it has been said,

a change of attitude and a resultant change in the atmosphere in which the

sexual impulses are manifested. It involves no necessary change in the

external order of our marriage system, for, as has already been pointed

out, it was a coincident and not designed part of that order. Various

recent lines of tendency have converged to produce this change of attitude

and of atmosphere. In part the men of to-day are far more ready than the

men of former days to look upon women as their comrades in the every day

work of the world, instead of as beings who were ideally on a level above

themselves and practically on a level considerably below themselves. In

part there is the growing recognition that women have conquered many

elementary human rights of which before they were deprived, and are more

and more taking the position of citizens, with the same kinds of duties,

privileges, and responsibilities as men. In part, also, it may be added,

there is a growing diffusion among educated people of a knowledge of the

primary facts of life in the two sexes, slowly dissipating and dissolving

many foolish and often mischievous superstitions. The result is that, as

many competent observers have noted, the young men of to-day show a new

attitude towards women and towards marriage, an attitude of simplicity and

frankness, a desire for mutual confidence, a readiness to discuss

difficulties, an appeal to understand and to be understood. Such an

attitude, which had hitherto been hard to attain, at once creates the

atmosphere in which alone the free spontaneous erotic activities of women

can breathe and live.

This consummation, we have seen, may be regarded as the attainment of

certain rights, the corollary of other rights in the social field which

women are slowly achieving as human beings on the same human level as men.

It opens to women, on whom is always laid the chief burden of sex, the

right to the joy and exaltation of sex, to the uplifting of the soul

which, when the right conditions are fulfilled, is the outcome of the

intimate approach and union of two human beings. Yet while we may find

convenient so to formulate it, we need to remember that that is only a

fashion of speech, for there are no rights in Nature. If we take a broader

sweep, what we may choose to call an erotic right is simply the perfect

poise of the conflicting forces of life, the rhythmic harmony in which

generation is achieved with the highest degree of perfection compatible

with the make of the world. It is our part to transform Nature's large

conception into our own smaller organic mould, not otherwise than the

plants, to whom we are far back akin, who dig their flexible roots deep

into the moist and fruitful earth, and so are able to lift up glorious

heads toward the sky.

Little Essays of Love and Virtue · 第 5 / 7 章