Revenge. Now that's an interesting concept. I love this song. And of course it suggests that exacting revenge on someone - probably a vile ex - is a bad idea..
''The ricochet is the second part'' ''There's no way to stop And the more I try to hurt you The more it backfires...'' I'm not convinced revenge is a bad idea all of the time. I can think of at least one person who sorely deserves it. I wouldn't say that I spend my spare time plotting doom on those fuckwits who have earned a hefty dose of just-desserts, but equally, I wouldn't rush to help them up if they were dangling over a cliff. In a bad moment, I might silently wish them under a bus. When it comes to some of my own ex boyfriends... I am sadly not as honourable as to say that I wish them well. I don't tend to think about them often - but moments like now - where I clearly am thinking about them and trundling down memory-lane, I don't remember them fondly. Or hope that they are happy. I have a mean streak a mile wide. I know this. Most people who know me also know this. It's a flaw.
So, a colleague that I know at work loaned me a book recently, which I have devoured. It's called 'Tampa' by Alissa Nutting. And I have to say, I have been morbidly fascinated. I think the last time I felt so caught up by a book... well, a few years back I went through a phase where I basically read biographies about serial killers. As a result I know a lot of useless crap about various psychopaths... Henry Lee Lucas, Myra Hindley, Ted Bundy, Fred West, Aileen Wuornos. And then when I was studying for my MA, I read books about the Marquis De Sade constantly, which is pretty disturbing. I'm fairly sure that I'm completely unable to be shocked by literature any more. I have become desensitised entirely. Anyway. So, as soon as I started reading this book, I felt uncomfortable in my skin. It didn't shock me - but it certainly did make me ask uncomfortable, difficult questions. I read parts of it, and I felt like I might fall into the words on the page. Some words seem huge, gaping voids, that swallowed up the rest of the book. At times I found myself re-reading sentences and paragraphs, because I felt like I was reaching into some very dark truth about people. The last time I felt like that, I read this sentence: “Those who say they would rather fight to the death than be raped are fools. I would rather be raped a thousand times. You do what you have to.” - Alice Seabold. (Taken from her book Lucky). *at the time, I had been drinking and had been listening to Hole (amazing band) and it all seemed very mystic, important and profound. It's one of the boldest things I think I've ever read, ever. But, this book... it's something else. I don't want to spoil it for you all - because I'd urge you to read it. But it features Celeste Price, a beautiful, wealthy school-teacher who is 'singly attracted to fourteen year old boys.' She is by definition of the word, a paedophile, but obviously, while I'm sure they do exist, she isn't what you might conjure up when you consider the definition of the word. For an obvious start - she's female. I mean, the typical image is a grubby, older, fatter man with a shitty job... a typical, unassuming, would-ignore-if-you-passed-him-in-the-street kinda guy. Which is a taboo concept in itself. I don't think the world really accepts yet - or talks about - the fact that some men are abused by women. If memory serves, it is legally impossible for a woman to rape a man. And then there's the unsettling notion that if a hot, skinny, blonde, busty teacher comes onto a walking hard-on that is a fourteen year old boy, is that abuse? Well, it is - I think - but it's a slippery slope... it's one that would be argued, by some people. It's rather like the old adage - a woman goes out, wearing something short and skimpy, someone rapes her - people STILL make the argument that she looked a certain way, so she was 'asking for it.' This argument REALLY pisses me off. Since when was anybody sexually entitled to anything, based on clothing? If a woman sees a man in a hot suit, nice shirt, does that mean she is entitled to coax him down a back-alley and rape him? It's fucking preposterous. But anyway - that is a rant.
One of the main things I was thinking about, as I was driving home from work today, is how much more different this story would be if Mrs Price, was a Mr Price and Jack Patrick was Jacqui Patrick. Would there be as much manipulation involved? How would this begin? I wonder if the thought processes of Mr Price would be as elaborate and intricate as those of Mrs Price? After all, Mrs Price doesn't ever use violence, threats or even intimidation, really, in her arsenal.
I think that's what makes this novel especially terrifying. The thought processes of Celeste are well-thought out, planned and calculated. She is organised. She is careful and never really out of control. She is very manipulative - all of these factors equal one scary person, psychopath. She is one of those people who knows just what to say, in just the right tone to the right person.Is this the difference between the male and female paedophile?
Again, I can't say too much, without spoiling it - but I think Alissa Nutting makes a very valid point about double standards between men and women and how much they do or do not get away with. Celeste reminds me, in a lot of ways, of the Marquis De Sade's Juliette - who I wrote part of my MA dissertation on. She is a woman run wild - to the point where she is really the neither woman or even man - she's too clever for that. She is monstrous. She is the anti-woman.
I also love the name of the novel. It's been a long, LONG, time since I've ever written academically, or maybe even articulated myself in this way, but did anyone else notice the play on words for the title? Or was that just me? I really should read more.
