And it was 1938. Heck, even in 1981 this book was a revelation -- bi people!
I agree with that—it was one of the points in its favor I was explaining to derspatchel last night—and with the lover-beloved exploration, although I think that also collapses in the end. As the lover, Vivian is still left the vulnerable one in the partnership, the one who loves more, the one who can be hurt more: "now and finally the loser." It is usual for the woman to be the one who would be broken if the man left her; the text acknowledges this among the other excuses that Vivian does not make to herself, which I think means Renault at least isn't trying to argue it's the inevitable trend of a heterosexual relationship, but it's still where they end up. And it fixes the terms of their relationship in a way I find difficult to believe would satisfy either of them, considering it ran originally on constantly shifting grounds, maintaining equilibrium. Kissed by Scott-Hallard, Vivian reflects, "She was used to Mic's love-making, which was one side of a conversation. This was simply a command." They're in bed together by the last pages, but I am not sure they will ever quite be able to have a conversation again.
(The affair frustrates me, because I understand why Vivian responds to Scott-Hallard; she is trying on heteronormativity. With Colonna, she was also the object of desire, but never by assumed social default: Colonna is just like that about things she wants. (I liked her, by the way, and I hoped she and Valentine salvaged a happy ending in some other novel Mary Renault did not write.) She's never had a male lover who wasn't Mic and it is not unreasonable of her to wonder whether she likes commands better than conversations. It's not unreasonable of Mic to be hurt that she tried to find out without even telling him first, especially with a man who personifies everything he can't stand about male-female roles. Everything else he says to her in that first argument is inexcusable and I couldn't believe she would respond to it by going back to Scott-Hallard—not because Mic should have shamed her out of it, but because she so clearly didn't prefer commands, and I just wanted to shake everybody, the author included.)
[edit] Maybe I am the only other person in the world who ever thought about this?
I have thought about it, but not at novel-length, because there are ways in which the idea runs badly counter to me: I don't want to be fixed in one position or the other, no matter who I'm with, and it interested me that at first neither did Vivian or Mic.
There is just enough reality in the ending of Purposes of Love for it to upset me on the train, because the person who once told me that I made him feel like a princess in a tower (immedately because I used to climb in through his window to visit, generally because he said I'd rescued him) was the same person who left me suddenly and badly; he wasn't hurt by going, so I must have loved him more. On some level I am always still expecting that to happen now, even when I believe better of the people on the other end of the relationship. It sucks.
(They'd have been able to cure the TB before it killed him. If they survived WWII.)
I knew that because I researched it for "The Clock House," but in 1938 Renault wouldn't have.
no subject
I agree with that—it was one of the points in its favor I was explaining to
(The affair frustrates me, because I understand why Vivian responds to Scott-Hallard; she is trying on heteronormativity. With Colonna, she was also the object of desire, but never by assumed social default: Colonna is just like that about things she wants. (I liked her, by the way, and I hoped she and Valentine salvaged a happy ending in some other novel Mary Renault did not write.) She's never had a male lover who wasn't Mic and it is not unreasonable of her to wonder whether she likes commands better than conversations. It's not unreasonable of Mic to be hurt that she tried to find out without even telling him first, especially with a man who personifies everything he can't stand about male-female roles. Everything else he says to her in that first argument is inexcusable and I couldn't believe she would respond to it by going back to Scott-Hallard—not because Mic should have shamed her out of it, but because she so clearly didn't prefer commands, and I just wanted to shake everybody, the author included.)
[edit] Maybe I am the only other person in the world who ever thought about this?
I have thought about it, but not at novel-length, because there are ways in which the idea runs badly counter to me: I don't want to be fixed in one position or the other, no matter who I'm with, and it interested me that at first neither did Vivian or Mic.
There is just enough reality in the ending of Purposes of Love for it to upset me on the train, because the person who once told me that I made him feel like a princess in a tower (immedately because I used to climb in through his window to visit, generally because he said I'd rescued him) was the same person who left me suddenly and badly; he wasn't hurt by going, so I must have loved him more. On some level I am always still expecting that to happen now, even when I believe better of the people on the other end of the relationship. It sucks.
(They'd have been able to cure the TB before it killed him. If they survived WWII.)
I knew that because I researched it for "The Clock House," but in 1938 Renault wouldn't have.