"Page0052" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bloom Howard - The Lucifer Principle (htm))

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Even T.S. Eliot's terribly erudite "Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"

is the intellectualized cry of a man who feels women will not look on

him with admiration and bear his children unless he wins their

attention with a few violent deeds.  "I have heard the mermaids singing

each to each," mopes the protagonist, "I do not think that they will sing

to me."  What would get these lovely girls in the sea to give the poet a

second look?  Well, he could be a bit more like Prince Hamlet--able to

finally make a decision and kill.  But the poet hesitates.  He is not the

kind of person to take decisive measures.  He imagines himself

growing old, a foolish, lonely man, ignored by women all his life.

Finally, he consoles himself.  "There will be time," he says, "to murder

and create."  Yes, the man said murder.

But females do more than provoke violence among males.  They

engage in it themselves.  Primatologist Jeanne Altman, studying the

female baboons of Kenya's Amboseli National Park, noted that when a

new baby baboon arrived, the females all rushed  over to see it.  As it

grew older, the baboon ladies come back time and time again.  At first

glance, their interest looked touchingly affectionate.  But on closer

inspection, it was anything but.

During a typical incident, a mother and baby sat in the savannah

grass.  A high-ranking female walked haughtily over to the pair.  She

tugged gently at the baby's arm.  When the mother would not give up

her child, the socially superior female grew impatient.  She tugged the

arm more violently.  Then she yanked at the baby's leg.  The mother

reared back, bared her teeth and made a warning sound.  She knew

what this meddler was really up to.  Given half the chance, the lady of

lofty social standing would grab the infant, manhandle (or is it

womanhandle) the squealing child like a rag doll, drag it around, pass

it back and forth to her friends, and in the end injure it so badly that

her "interest" might very well prove fatal.

The chattering anger of the mother did its work.  The female

from a higher social sphere went back to her clique.  The mother was a

member of the underclass, looked down on by the haughty and

none-too-kind members of the female in-group.  The worried soul

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Even T.S. Eliot's terribly erudite "Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"

is the intellectualized cry of a man who feels women will not look on

him with admiration and bear his children unless he wins their

attention with a few violent deeds.  "I have heard the mermaids singing

each to each," mopes the protagonist, "I do not think that they will sing

to me."  What would get these lovely girls in the sea to give the poet a

second look?  Well, he could be a bit more like Prince Hamlet--able to

finally make a decision and kill.  But the poet hesitates.  He is not the

kind of person to take decisive measures.  He imagines himself

growing old, a foolish, lonely man, ignored by women all his life.

Finally, he consoles himself.  "There will be time," he says, "to murder

and create."  Yes, the man said murder.

But females do more than provoke violence among males.  They

engage in it themselves.  Primatologist Jeanne Altman, studying the

female baboons of Kenya's Amboseli National Park, noted that when a

new baby baboon arrived, the females all rushed  over to see it.  As it

grew older, the baboon ladies come back time and time again.  At first

glance, their interest looked touchingly affectionate.  But on closer

inspection, it was anything but.

During a typical incident, a mother and baby sat in the savannah

grass.  A high-ranking female walked haughtily over to the pair.  She

tugged gently at the baby's arm.  When the mother would not give up

her child, the socially superior female grew impatient.  She tugged the

arm more violently.  Then she yanked at the baby's leg.  The mother

reared back, bared her teeth and made a warning sound.  She knew

what this meddler was really up to.  Given half the chance, the lady of

lofty social standing would grab the infant, manhandle (or is it

womanhandle) the squealing child like a rag doll, drag it around, pass

it back and forth to her friends, and in the end injure it so badly that

her "interest" might very well prove fatal.

The chattering anger of the mother did its work.  The female

from a higher social sphere went back to her clique.  The mother was a

member of the underclass, looked down on by the haughty and

none-too-kind members of the female in-group.  The worried soul