(...) Sometimes I dislike women, I dislike us all, because of our capacity for not-thinking when it suits us; we choose not to think when we are reaching out for happiness. (...)
(...)
13 A Short Novel, To Be Called "THE MAN WHO IS FREE OF WOMEN"
A man about fifty, a bachelor, or perhaps was married for a short time, his wife died, or he got divorced. If an American, he is divorced, but if English, he has this wife tucked away somewhere, he might even live with her or share a house, but without real emotional contact. At fifty, he has had a couple of dozen affairs, three or four serious. These serious affairs were with women who hoped to marry him, they lingered on, in what were really marriages without formal ties, he broke the affairs off at the point where he had to marry them. At fifty he is dry, anxious about his sexuality, has five or six women friends, all ex-mistresses, now married. He is cuckoo in half a dozen families, the old family friend. He is like a child, dependant on women, gets vaguer and more inefficient, is always ringing up some women to do something for him. Outwardly a dapper, ironic intelligent man, making an impression on younger women, then turns to the older women who fulfil the function of kindly nannies or nursemaid.
(...)
THE GOLDEN NOTEBOOK (D. Lessing)
Does that mean despite how free we want to be, women will always seek happiness in a man, and a man "a mother" in every women?
Shoot! How depressing is that?!
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