Tags
#ReadingForParity, Female empowerment, Female Playwrights, Feminism, Gender Parity, Laura Eason, Marguerite Duras, Sex With Strangers, The Make It Fair Project
Given the importance of online interaction in Sex With Strangers (through blogs, e-publishing, apps, etc), it’s rather ironic that I initially connected with its writer Laura Eason via Twitter, as a result of my #ReadingForParity blog project. When I told her that I hoped to include one of her works in the project, she suggested I read Sex With Strangers. I’m grateful for the suggestion because it’s definitely one of my favorite plays that I’ve read so far this summer! And to that end, I should warn you that I’ll be giving away quite a few plot twists because it is all so brilliant and there is so much to discuss. I recommend that you read or see the play, if possible, before reading this blogpost.
Sex With Strangers is a two character play about two writers whose sex lives and careers become increasingly intertwined. At the top of the show, Olivia is a thirty nine year old novelist whose career never quite took off the way she’d hoped, given her talent. As a result, she has become withdrawn, especially about her writing (which she says she considers more of a hobby for her than profession). In contrast, Ethan became a huge success as a college student when his blog, in which he chronicled his experiences sleeping with at least one female stranger a week for a year, became an internet sensation. The blog was turned into a book, titled Sex With Strangers, and was on the New York Times Bestseller list for years. There was a sequel published (More Sex With Strangers) and there is now a movie in the works.
However, Ethan insists that he is not the guy he appears to be in his Sex With Strangers books. In fact, he is a novelist who so loved Olivia’s one published work (now out of print) that he actively seeks her out. They end up sleeping together, multiple times, and he also offers to help her career. He suggests uploading her previously published novel online, under a different name, and he connects her to his agent. All he seems to ask is that she not read his Sex With Strangers because he doesn’t want her to know that side of him. Of course, the temptation is too great for Olivia and read it she does. After that, things can never be the same with her and Ethan.
Although it’s not quite this simple, there is some truth to the way Ethan boils down the essential conflict of their relationship, both as writers and as lovers:
Ethan. It’s just so unfair.
Olivia. What?
Ethan. Your book made me love you. My book made you hate me.
From a gender conscious perspective, it is interesting to note the extant to which Ethan’s character is seems to get away with obnoxious, womanizing behavior. Not only is he aware of this persona, he actually jokes about it, referring to himself as a “dick”, an “egomaniac” and an “asshole”. True, he is an extremely well written antagonist but part of Ethan’s appeal like comes from the fact that society is very forgiving towards attractive, charming men who degrade women, especially if they admit that they are aware of their bad behavior. It is doubtful that society would ever be that kind to a woman who spoke about men the way Ethan speaks about women. (For example, when talking to his manager, Ethan refers to some girls he knows as “dirty, filthy, nasty, little sluts”.)
Though Ethan claims that it’s all a front he puts on for the sake of his public image, Olivia understandably has trouble believing that. At one point she asks Ethan:
Olivia. Why should I trust you?
Ethan. You probably shouldn’t.
Olivia. Because you seem like you might be an asshole.
Ethan. I’m not saying I’m not an asshole. I pretty much am an asshole. I’m just saying I won’t be an asshole to you.
The audience and Olivia spends a good deal of the rest of the play trying to figure out if Ethan’s above statement is true.
Throughout the play, it becomes increasingly clear that the vulnerability and unmasking which occurs during sex is set in contrast to the vulnerability and unmasking that occurs when reading a writer’s unpublished work. At one point, Ethan says to Olivia, “Come on! You know you want to!”– a line that echoes with traditional connotations of rape, or of peer pressure at the very least. And yet, in the context of this play, the line isn’t spoken at the initiation of a sexual act but rather when Ethan is convincing Olivia to upload her book onto the internet.
Sex ultimately seems less revealing than the invasion of literary privacy that occurs towards the end. The play seems to go a step further, suggesting that sometimes sex with a stranger might be more pure than sex with someone you know, if (like Ethan) you are sleeping with someone in part because you like that person’s writing or (like Olivia) you are sleeping with someone in part to advance your own career.
In addition to being ambitious, Olivia is a strong, sexy, well-read, well-traveled and independent woman (it is noted in the very first set of stage directions that she is “happily alone”). She is frustrated with her career, particularly with how her published work has been received. However, though she wants approval, Olivia does not doubt her ability as a writer or the work she has produced. This seemingly contradictory brand of confidence mixed with desire for approval is something I have somewhat recognized in myself and in many friends of mine who are also woman writers, which makes me wonder if there is a sociological reason for this gender prevalence.
Olivia is clearly aware of the implications of being a female writer. When considering what pseudonym to give her book, she suggests using initials instead of a clearly gendered first name and wryly explains, “being a woman is always such a huge advantage as an artist so I’d like to see how I do without that leg up”. (Her comment addresses her field’s lack of gender parity in a similarly humorous vein to the newly formed Make It Fair Project.)
The character’s feminist inclinations are awesome but my absolute favorite thing about Olivia is probably that she is a vociferous reader:
Olivia. I always bring more than I can possibly read, including favorites to reread, which I never get to. I just like having them around, I guess, knowing they’re close by.
Fittingly, this is the first play I’ve read for my #ReadingForParity Project that has given me a book recommendation, The Lover by Marguerite Duras. In some ways, Duras’ book is the purest, most transcendent form of human connection, and of sex, that appears in the entire play. As described by Olivia, it’s a book that “evokes the feeling of desire, of passion, of feeling inexplicably connected to another person…what happens before words are even spoken and, then, later, when you don’t need them any more.” Once Ethan has read it, he too understands the book’s appeal, observing that it is “spare but really evocative. And kind-of sharp, like… a little brutal. Honest. Confident. I like it.” How many men describe romantic stories written by women in such a non-gender biased way?!
So I challenge myself, and my fellow bloggers/readers, to read The Lover by Marguerite Duras. If the plays are the summer reading, consider the novel to be extra credit. And afterwards, let me know if you agree with Olivia and/or Ethan’s assessment of the book! Happy reading. 🙂
Follow Laura Eason on Twitter @LEasonNYC for info on upcoming productions of Sex With Strangers and more.
Click here to read #ReadingForParity Week 3: The Call by Tanya Barfield