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Margaret Diehl's 'Men' Is Unadulterated By Apology Or Consequence.
By Jami Macarty
Men, by Margaret Diehl (Soho Press). Paper, $13.
SEX IS THE first word of Men, Margaret Diehl's first
novel. Men is actually a character study of a woman, 21-year-old
Stella James, who explores the nature of her instincts and the
source of her desire. Although the novel was published in 1988,
it's been re-released because it was made into a film starring
Sean Young and John Heard in 1997. A spokesman at Soho Press (the
publisher of Men) hopes the film will never see the light
of day. Forego the movie, when it comes out on video, and meet
Stella on the page instead; the book was a pleasure to read. Men
is a well-written, subversively feminist novel with sex in its
proper, exalted place.
Diehl's Stella believes "in the wildness of sexual anarchy,
especially female sexual anarchy." Needless to say, Stella
is a brainy, independent woman who doesn't feel guilty about her
sexual adventurousness. These are important traits in a heroine,
since many female characters express regret for what and whom
they desire, and, as a result of their prurient behavior, something
bad happens to them.
This system of justice, predicted by certain forces in society,
has become a staple in stories about outspoken women vying for
their independence. The delivery of such a consistent message
makes it hard not to get tangled up in this expectation. Can the
question of whether bad things will happen to Stella as she roams
the streets of New York City looking for sex with strangers be
avoided? After all, we remember Looking For Mr. Goodbar.
But, not one bad thing ever happens to Stella: no gang rape, no
knifing, no STD.
The most she ever has to endure is the narcissism of her partners,
like Rudy, who "when he was done with his violent stories,
recited a long poem he had written...with echoes of Shakespearean
melancholy and occasional asides to the universe"; and Vince,
who'd go on for hours with convoluted explanations of the rights
and privileges of men.
It must be considered then, that violence is the exception; a
woman's conscious choice to have sex with a stranger does not
necessarily correlate to a punishment for that choice. As Stella
aptly states, "So much for the argument of provocative dress
and male instincts."
The lonely, desperate image of one-night stands must also be
revised since Stella "rarely feels embarrassment, and never
distress." She marvels at her "telepathic lust,"
which leads her to "the ordinary men who could love a woman
forever"; "the tough ones, sure of their charm";
and "the darker more brooding souls." Stella describes
her encounters as "union, surrounded by solitude in its most
royal form. To undress or be undressed, to cling and kiss without
love, but with honesty, made me feel like Eve, alone with the
only man on earth."
Stella isn't interested in the men, per se; she's interested
in what she's looking for: "So this was Nathan," she
muses. "What does Nathan have to do with me?" She is
capable both of asking the question of Nathan's relativism and
also of providing the answer. "My parents had left me (in
the care of her grandmother when she was 6 years old), so I search
for love. I would never be satisfied because my desire transcended
the sexual...." It is simple and uncomplicated: Not only
is Stella "strong enough to provide what her past demanded;
she took it as a challenge."
Beyond this, Diehl's novel is never explicit in its discussion
of Stella's motivations; this may mirror her character's own lack
of interest in these depths. Stella doesn't sit around and analyze
herself or her feelings of abandonment, as she's too busy testing
her premise that men "could be gone up to, led away and kissed."
In fact, what's interesting about the writing is the direct description
of the characters' actions. In the style of Raymond Carver, we
see what the characters do, as if watching from a window, and
decide for ourselves the reasons why. It's a good thing, too.
Otherwise, Men might have ended up psychologically overwrought.
But, a life like this can't last. Eventually Stella migrates
from New York to Berkeley and the inevitable happens. She falls
in love with Frank. Though Stella's struggle has never been with
guilt, she must now wrestle with the compromises of monogamy and
promiscuity. In the end, she's restored to convention and her
exploits become a rite of passage that lead to the same destiny
of a more chaste youth--the reward of a monogamous relationship
with a loving man. As disappointing as this destination may be,
it was a lot of fun getting there. As the book's subtitle states,
"So many men, so little time."
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