what do women want?

Santos 2022-09-26 22:16:56

or better, what does a human being want from life?

The word "feminism" is always a bit of an oddity.

In the final analysis, what women want is not sexual freedom, but personal freedom. Whether the ransom is money or power, or simply leaving, isn't it all about getting out?

Does a woman exist as an "identity" or as a person?

The subcategory of "identity" is endless: wives, mothers, daughters, colleagues, prostitutes, babysitters. . .

If sexual freedom reaches a certain level—for example, the so-called prostitution is legal, abortion is free, and homosexuality is free—but it is still aimed at fulfilling “identity” and using itself as a means, then it is still a slave. This kind of sexual freedom is probably better called sexual openness. Anyway, it is not difficult to "open" now.

"Feminism" is a bit of an exaggeration: not for women, but starting with women and freeing all slaves. (I personally have always held this point of view, anyway, this thing is very misunderstood)

This film definitely has an "international standard": no subtitles, no need to understand French, you can watch it the same. Maybe this is art.

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Extended Reading

Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du commerce, 1080 Bruxelles quotes

  • Sylvain Dielman: [Referring to his dead father] If he was ugly, did you want to make love with him?

    Jeanne Dielman: Ugly or not, it wasn't all that important. Besides, "making love" as you call it, is merely a detail. And I had you. And he wasn't as ugly as all that.

    Sylvain Dielman: Would you want to remarry?

    Jeanne Dielman: No. Get used to someone else?

    Sylvain Dielman: I mean someone you love.

    Jeanne Dielman: Oh, you know...

    Sylvain Dielman: Well, if I were a woman, I could never make love with someone I wasn't deeply in love with.

    Jeanne Dielman: How could you know? You're not a woman. Lights out?

  • Jeanne Dielman: I met your father after the Americans had left. I was living with my aunts, because my parents were dead. One Saturday, I went to the Bois de la Cambre with a girlfriend. I don't remember the weather. She knew him. You know who I mean. I've shown you her picture. So, we began seeing each other. I was working as a billing clerk for horrible pay. Life with my aunts was dull. I didn't feel like getting married, but it seemed to be "the thing to do," as they say. My aunts kept saying "He's nice. He's got money. He'll make you happy." But I still couldn't decide. But I really wanted a life of my own, and a child. Then his business suddenly hit the rocks, so I married him. Things like that happened after the war.