Main  Contacts  
Table of contents
Introduction
The Feminine Mind-1
The War Between the Sexes-2.1
The War Between the Sexes-2.2
The War Between the Sexes-2.3
Marriage-3.1
Marriage-3.2
Marriage-3.3
Marriage-3.4
Woman Suffrage-4.1
Woman Suffrage-4.2
Woman Suffrage-4.3
Woman Suffrage-4.4
The New Age-5.1
The New Age-5.2
The Kama Sutra of Vatsyayana. INTRODUCTION
THE VATSYAYANA SUTRA-1-2
THE VATSYAYANA SUTRA-3-4-5
OF SEXUAL UNION-1-2
OF SEXUAL UNION-3-4-5
OF SEXUAL UNION-6-7-8
OF SEXUAL UNION-10-11
ABOUT THE ACQUISITION OF A WIFE-1-2
ABOUT THE ACQUISITION OF A WIFE-3-4-5
ABOUT A WIFE-1-2
ABOUT THE WIVES OF OTHER MEN-1-2
ABOUT THE WIVES OF OTHER MEN-3-4
ABOUT THE WIVES OF OTHER MEN-5-6
ABOUT COURTESANS-1-2
ABOUT COURTESANS-3-4
ABOUT COURTESANS-5-6
ABOUT THE MEANS OF ATTRACTING OTHERS TO YOURSELF-1-2
CONCLUDING REMARKS

his mind was never distracted from his work. 

 

 

 

 

46. The Eternal Romance 

 

 

But whatever the future of monogamous marriage, there will never be any 

decay of that agreeable adventurousness which now lies at the bottom 

of all transactions between the sexes. Women may emancipate themselves, 

they may borrow the whole bag of masculine tricks, and they may cure 

themselves of their present desire for the vegetable security of 

marriage, but they will never cease to be women, and so long as they are 

women they will remain provocative to men. Their chief charm today 

lies precisely in the fact that they are dangerous, that they threaten 

masculine liberty and autonomy, that their sharp minds present a menace 

vastly greater than that of acts of God and the public enemy--and they 

will be dangerous for ever. Men fear them, and are fascinated by them. 

They know how to show their teeth charmingly; the more enlightened of 

them have perfected a superb technique of fascination. It was Nietzsche 

who called them the recreation of the warrior--not of the poltroon, 

remember, but of the warrior. A profound saying. They have an infinite 

capacity for rewarding masculine industry and enterprise with small and 

irresistible flatteries; their acute understanding combines with 

their capacity for evoking ideas of beauty to make them incomparable 

companions when the serious business of the day is done, and the time 

has come to expand comfortably in the interstellar ether. 

 

Every man, I daresay, has his own notion of what constitutes perfect 

peace and contentment, but all of those notions, despite the fundamental 

conflict of the sexes, revolve around women. As for me--and I hope I 

may be pardoned, at this late stage in my inquiry, for intruding my own 

personality--I reject the two commonest of them: passion, at least 

in its more adventurous and melodramatic aspects, is too exciting and 

alarming for so indolent a man, and I am too egoistic to have much 

desire to be mothered. What, then, remains for me? Let me try to 

describe it to you. 

 

It is the close of a busy and vexatious day--say half past five or six 

o'clock of a winter afternoon. I have had a cocktail or two, and am 

stretched out on a divan in front of a fire, smoking. At the edge of the 

divan, close enough for me to reach her with my hand, sits a woman not 

too young, but still good-looking and well-dressed--above all, a woman 


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