Mating in Captivity Reconciling the Erotic and the Domestic
Reviews
I've listened to Esther Perel on so many podcasts I have lost count; it felt like the right time to dive in to one of her books. I listened to the audiobook so it was a breezy listening experience that didn't result in weird looks on the subway! Such a great complement to other books in the category (ie. Emily Nagoski's Come As You Are) without being repetitive, and sheds plenty of light on the intricacies and complexities of the erotic and the domestic.
The contents of the book is fine, with some good suggestions based on the observations the author has made over many years of being a relationship therapist—e.g. recognize that there's a difference between intimacy and eroticism and that it's important for a couple to maintain their individual identities to keep some tension in the relationship. What I found really annoying however is that this is such a Quote Book. The author sprinkles random quotes all over the book from lots of different sources in an attempt to add legitimacy to the book, when it could stand on its own just fine. There's even a quote from Benjamin Franklin! Why!
Esther Perel challenges traditional notions of love and romance, and what is a healthy relationship. This book helped me rethink aspects of my relationship, in particular it got me to rethink the role of separateness in passion and excitement. Very thought-provoking.
I couldn’t put it down! I was fun to read about it other couples’ sexual situations and see how I could relate to them. I also like the subtle insights to the norms and taboos of different cultures.
Keep an open mind while reading this (especially the bits concerning Freud) but I did find this book fascinating with a lot of ideas and insight to take into a long term relationship or marriage. Also think that lots of good discussion for partners who are open about their relationship and sex life can come from this book. I'd also highly recommend it to Americans as Perel is European and discusses differences she sees in American vs European relationships when it comes to sex. Super interesting.
Honestly so many mind blowing and much needed lessons gain through reading this. Definitely not light reading but really great and informative non fiction if you’re feeling like learning more about relationships and yourself.
I think this book would be useful to pretty much anyone who's in a long-term relationship. I found it helpful enough that I read most of it twice. Yes, there is some useful actual advice in here, but so much of it is really about giving you a space to think about a big part of your life, that you probably don't otherwise have space or time for. I can't speak to other countries, but in the US, it's nearly impossible to have healthy conversations about sex, either around or within relationships. This book went a long ways toward helping me think about my life and my relationship in a better way. If nothing else, it was an exercise in empathy, in learning to think far more about what the other person is thinking, which is very hard to do when you've known someone as long as I have known my wife. It's easy to believe you know; much harder to think deeply about it.
I thought this book was clear, the thesis of each chapter was apparent, the stories were relevant, and the ideas were new. Thoroughly enjoyed! Here's what I took away: We want a lot from our partners. Stability, security, meaningful love, as well as hot, lusty, passionate lover. It's hard for us to be both. It's hard for our partners to be both. It's hard for us to *conceptualize* ourselves and our partner as both. Why? We are limited by our prior, conflicting conceptions of what it means to fulfill the the relational roles of partner, lover, spouse, and parent. We are limited by our fear of showing our transgressive selves to the person we depend on for love and validation. We are limited by our expectations of how love is supposed to happen. Rather than only cultivating closeness as partners, we need to cultivate our separate selves (and allow our partner to do the same). Rather than hiding our supposed transgressions, we need to release ourselves from the shame of lust, and embrace it as a fun, natural, playful part of life. Rather than expecting passion to "just happen", we need to make intentional space for sensual pleasure in our relationships, even as we negotiate our other roles as partner, lover, spouse, parent, and individual (e.g. professional). It's hard for us and our partners to fulfill all of these roles at once, but with some cultivating, reframing, and intentionality, it's possible.
An absolute must read for any aspiring relationship or sex therapist, psychologist, or coach. And a great read for anyone wanting to bring the heat back into their relationship. Perel speaks intelligently and without bias, providing wisdom on how to regain and accept our freedom to be the erotic, sexual beings that we are in a way that nurtures the relationships we're in while acknowledging that each individual has their own, autonomous desires as well.
Highlights
But when I ask her, "What does sex mean to you? What are the feelings that accompany your desire? What do you seek in sex? What do you want to feel? To express? Where do you hold back?" she looks at me, perplexed. "I have no idea," she admits. "No one's ever asked me that before."
All of us invest our erotic encounters with a complex set of needs and expectations. We seek love, pleasure, and validation. Some of us find in sex the perfect venue for rebellion and escape. Others reach for transcendence and ecstasy, even spiritual commu nion. What I got from Joni was a history of her experience. What I was looking for was a sense of the longings and conflicts she brought to these experiences.
"Can I ask you about your fantasies?" I ask. Joni pales. "Oh, God. That's so personal. What I do, or what I have done, doesn't seem nearly as embarrassing as what goes on in mind." my
"But that's exactly where I want us to go. I have a sense that if we talk about your fantasies we may be able to get to the heart of what stands between you and Ray."
When I ask James if he ever experiences anxiety-free sex, he answers, "Only when I masturbate." This is important, since it confirms for me that he has no organic difficulty and that, genitally speaking, he can perform just fine. In solitary sex James can attend to himself without the pressure of another's demands. The women who populate his fantasy life are lascivious, sexually alluring, and in no way vulnerable. He need not fear that his selfishness might hurt them, and he can delight in his excitement guilt-free. This is a freedom he never reaches with his wife, and that realization leads us to the cause of his erotic block.
Note: Sexual content
Yet the couples who most successfully implement this model of placidity are rarely passionate lovers. When we confuse assertion with aggression, neutralize otherness, adjust our longings, and reason away our hostility, we assemble a calmness that is reassuring but not very exciting. Stephen Mitchell makes the point that the capacity to contain aggression is a precondition for the capacity to love. We must integrate our aggression rather than eradicate it. He explains, "The degradation of romance, the waning of desire, is due not to the contamination of love by aggression, but to the inability to sustain the necessary tension between them."
I suggest that our ability to tolerate our separateness-and the fundamental insecurity it engenders-is a precondition for maintaining interest and desire in a relationship. Instead of always striving for closeness, I argue that couples may be better off cultivating their separate selves. If cultivating separateness sounds harsh, let's think of it instead as nurturing a sense of selfhood.
In his book Arousal, the psychoanalyst Michael Bader offers another explanation for John and Beatrice's erotic impasse. In his view, intimacy comes with a growing concern for the well-being of the other person, which includes a fear of hurting her. But sexual excitement requires the capacity not to worry, and the pursuit of pleasure demands a degree of selfishness. Some people can't allow themselves this selfishness, because they're too absorbed with the well-being of the beloved. This emotional configuration is reminiscent of how John felt toward his mother-his awareness of her unhappiness overwhelmed him with worry and a sense of burden. The very caring he experiences makes it harder for him to focus on his own needs, to feel spontaneous, sexually alive, and carefree.