Wednesday, July 24, 2013

In which the author of this blog answers a Dear Prudence letter


From a letter to Dear Prudence, from Slate.com, posted July 18, 2013

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My husband wants to donate sperm to his ex-wife. Should I let him?


I am a young woman who recently married a very successful athlete. He is caring, kind, and thoughtful. We both want children, but in a world where so many children are without loving homes, I can't imagine having biological offspring when we could provide a wonderful life for children who would never otherwise have one. My husband has always been supportive of this, but recently he brought up an interesting proposition. His ex-wife, who is older than me and has never remarried, asked him to be a sperm donor. She has a successful career and would not need financial support, but I think the proposition is bizarre. He argues that they both have excellent genetics that would be "wasted" if they do not jump at what could be their only chance to have biological children. He said it is no different from donating sperm to a bank, except that he knows the mother will be able to provide well for his offspring. The two split amicably due to pressures of both of their careers. Am I being selfish to say she should find another sperm donor?

—Confused Wife


Dear Confused Wife,

To hold such notions as you and your husband do is to involve oneself with nothing more than   preposterous absurdity at best, moral corruption at worst. Though I am hardly a gambling man, I would be most willing to wager three hundred ducats upon the likelihood of your family being of Yankee-doodle descent.  For need I remind my regular readers that ‘tis very common in American society for people to regard the word successful (as in the phrase “I am married to a very successful athlete”) as meaning either full of merit or, as they like to say, filthy rich?

I am struck by the rarity of this entire situation, for I wonder what curious miracle of fate brought two such people as yourselves together, a wife who cares not whose child she has, as long it be an adopted  orphan, and a husband who cares not what lady , including his loving wife, might ultimately have his child. You two complement one another in a rather perverse manner. Doubtless, he would prefer (as you claim he says) to impregnate only those members of the fair sex who are known for their superior genes. Yet consider this point, madam, if every young wife at the beginning of her marriage had decided, as you did, to adopt an orphan rather than have a child herself, then sooner or later there shall be no more orphans left in the world, and neither any people.

As for your husband, I must universally condemn all those activities whereby a man is compelled to ejaculate his oily balsamic liquid into a little saucer for any purposes other than official scientific inquiry. For if there is any procedure in the world more morally corrupt than that of manual inseminandus, as it now exists under capitalist societies, I know not what that may be. The ability for us to purchase human life is unholy because blasphemous against the Almighty Creator. Still, you should be warned that in-vitro fertilization, as it is called by the doctors, is a very expensive procedure, and it requires you to visit those damnable for-profit baby factories known as sperm banks. Such services as they provide create a society in which the wealthy are enabled to use their gold to purchase human life---as they now can use their gold to compel their children to read books---whilst the poor are put under a certain disadvantage, shall we say, of being unable to afford to produce sires. Therefore, I must pronounce against this entire method of begetting children, and urge your husband to reserve his kernels for no one but you.


By the way, mayhap you convince your husband’s former wife, that rather than desire to buy her own child using your husband’s, or some other gentleman's, organic leakage, she might charitably consider investing 15,000 ducats upon some poor London chimney sweep. What say you to this plan, madam?

Sunday, July 14, 2013

In which Samuel Richardson answers a Dear Prudence letter


From a letter to Dear Prudence, from Slate.com, posted July 11, 2013

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Dear Prudence,

Five years ago during the summer, when I was 19, my friend and I took a one-day trip to a nearby city. We left late at night after I finished my shift as a cashier. When I picked her up, her mother got so mad that we were leaving so late that she kicked her out of the house along with her dog. While we were in city that day, we left the dog in the car. When we returned to the car in the evening, the dog was dead. This was the worst mistake of my life. I think about it all the time, especially now, when it’s so hot. I feel such pangs of regret and guilt that sometimes I feel like I am going to have a panic attack. I am so ashamed and wonder what we were thinking. My mom made a point that I didn't leave the dog in the car with malicious intent. It was a mistake that I need to learn from and move on. I've asked my boyfriend why he doesn't hate me and he’s said because it was a mistake. I know everyone makes mistakes, but is mine unforgivable? Should I not ever be allowed to have a dog of my own? I know that I didn't do it on purpose, and I love animals. My mom suggested seeing a therapist if I can’t stop thinking about it. I don't know what a therapist might say that I haven't thought of or considered already. Do you have any advice on how to cope?

—Dog Lover


Dear Dog Lover,

While you are labouring under the consequences of your foolish behavior whence resulted the death of the pooch---or, as the laywerly class of people might call it, canis manslaughter---it would not be inappropriate for me to make a few remarks upon the universal idea of guilt.  When spiritual guilt corresponds to natural guilt, as it does in your case, then ‘tis clear that you have but to leave the entire thing up to the All-wise Disposer to absolve you of your iniquity.  No one but the Mighty Creator---not advice columnists, yoga instructors, or psychotherapists---may acquit you of what your conscience is telling you.

Yet I must draw your attention to a far greater guilt of which you seem to be completely unawares. For were you not also the cause (albeit indirectly) of the sundering of the relationship between your friend and her mother? Did you not also contribute to the destruction of the highest and most important bond, that between a parent and its childw,hich holds our society together? Did you not fail to express any doubt or hesitation to your friend of the wisdom of pursuing the trip in light of her mother's protestations? Surely, it matters not if the bond between your friend and her mother has been healed, for ‘tis impossible that any two human hearts can survive such tremors without deep scarring. 'Tis a matter of most curious nature, how you have wholly misdirected your self-guilt.

My own novel, Clarissa, or the History of a Young Lady, Comprehending the most Important Concerns of Private Life, and Particularly Shewing the Distresses that may Attend the Misconduct both of Parents and Children, in relation to Marriage, was written to enlighten the world of the horrible consequences of thoughtless actions such as yours.  Therefore, my advice to you is to read my novel Clarissa as being the only method whereby you may learn to improve and raise your moral character sufficient to your horrible situation, including your profound lack of self-knowledge.

To summarize, your greatest crime is not third-degree pooch-murder but that of sundering the relationship between a parent and a child----and for your complete lack of sympathy in anticipating and considering the feelings of a fellow human creature, namely your friend’s mother, when confronted with the situation as you described it, you are henceforward assigned the reading of my novel, Clarissa. And until you complete my Clarissa ‘tis recommended that you withdraw yourself from society and resign yourself to a monkish life of reading and contemplation.

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

In which is contained a letter from a wretched libertine to a fellow-sporter

Letter I---Mr. Robert Trenton to Mr. Jack Brockden

If you could observe me now, you would see how I nearly tremble as I write this---yet ‘tis not in groveling self-abasement, but in mighty ecstasy, that I quake so to relate my latest debauch to you. I believe you are acquainted some with the industrious cleaning-lady who attends to my apartment twice a week. No doubt you remember the maid Consuela Muñoz performing her aproned offices around the house. Though it may be regarded as unseemly for us to be taking such notices of our house-cleaners--better that we pretend they are not in the room with us—yet ‘tis no where written that the Master of the house should also be ignoring their beautiful daughters, or as the Spanish prefer to call them, hijas preciosos. For Juliana Muñoz is indeed the charmingest and prettiest young lady I have ever laid my eyes upon---and a true-blue virgin---at least until now she was.

Her age---but what care I for her age when the subject is Cupid’s capricious arrows; suffice it to say that Juliana Muñoz is old enough to be in high school, where, you will be pleased to hear, she is a most promising student, which her mother, in her broken English, communicated to me.

It chanced that I met Juliana when her mother had carried her to work on some occasions. Juliana allowed me to keep her company; at first only in the presence of her mother; and then once permitting me to entertain her in my private chamber. For as I am a gentleman with a fortune---handsome in fortune and in appearance--and she but a working-class wench, shall you blame her mother for trusting me alone with her daughter? Mind you, the maid Consuela is just barely able to make herself understood in English. Make that two private occasions actually, the last one being but few hours ago; upon which occasion I unloosened her virgin knot!

Indeed, I have plundered the treasures of Juliana Muñoz’s body. I have made Juliana into a woman, or as the Latin races might call her now, Signora Muñoz.  

Sunday, June 9, 2013

Containing accounts of ancient customs and habits, from James Frazer's "The Golden Bough"

"Sacred groves were common among the ancient Germans, and tree-worship is hardly extinct amongst their descendants at the present day. How serious that worship was in former times may be gathered from the ferocious penalty appointed by the old German laws for such as dared to peel the bark off a standing tree. The culprit's navel was to be cut out and nailed to the part of the tree which he had peeled, and he was to be driven round and round the tree till all his guts were wound about its trunk. The intention of the punishment clearly was to replace the dead bark by a living substitute taken from the culprit; it was a life for a life, the life of a man, for the life of a tree."
                --From James Frazer's The Golden Bough, chapter IX, "The Worship of Trees"
"The Hidatsa Indians of North America believe that every natural object has its spirit, or to speak more properly, its shade. To these shades some consideration or respect is due, but not equally to all. For example, the shade of the cottonwood, the greatest tree in the valley of the Upper Missouri, is supposed to possess an intelligence which, if properly approached, may help the Indians in certain undertakings; but the shades of shrubs and grasses are of little account." 

                                    --From James Frazer's The Golden Bough, chapter IX, "The Worship of Trees"