Romance for Real Women

Real women, like some politicians, don’t wear their patriotism on their lapels and I don’t. Nevertheless, I am invariably irritated when I read condescending and spiteful remarks, however elegantly phrased, about our country.

Such was the case yesterday when I picked up a copy of The Financial Times, a British publication our office subscribes to and read Nigel Andrews’ review of Sex in the City.

The writer first confesses that he’s never seen an episode of the popular television show. He goes on to say “I offer no excuse, beyond my instinctive aversion to shows in which Americans pretend they are or can be sexually liberated. They are always hopeless at it – the Puritan ancestry tells – and so the results are always screamy, garish and winsome.”

Yeah. That got my attention, too.

After offering that insight, he goes on to say of the movie. “They walk, talk, giggle, gesticulate and sometimes fling themselves across a room, leaving their owners suddenly pink, startled and exposed. This is in preparation for what passes in America for a sex scene.”

One can only imagine Mr. Andrews’ delight in himself in penning such a riposte.

But by then I knew, I just knew, where this was headed. Can you guess?

“Here is my theory: the French alone understand eroticism, so they alone should be allowed to depict sex on screen.”

Yep. We got there. The French.

Many real women will remember back in 2000 when the national discussion centered on President Clinton’s affair with Monica Lewinski. Anyone who offered the slightest hint of criticism or showed any distaste for Clinton’s performance, was told “the French think we’re prudes.” Commentators pointed with pride to French Prime Minister Mitterand’s funeral to which both his wife and mistress attended. That cinched the argument, all right. If you didn’t consider that the height of sophistication you were obviously a prude, bore and barbarian. (At the time I couldn’t understand why anyone cared what the French thought. I still don’t.)

OK, I’m not going list some of the sexiest movies scenes in history played by American actors, written by American scriptwriters and produced by American studios. I don’t have time, although perhaps I will in another post.

I’m not even going to defend Sex in the City because I haven’t seen it yet.

But I’m going to. This weekend. First thing tomorrow. Nigel Andrews has made me realize it’s my patriotic duty.