The polygamous sex. A man's right to the other woman Esther Vilar 1976

At this point in the scenario, if not sooner, the producerreading it picks up his phone and dials the author. 'Are you out of your mind?' he asks. He had ordered a love scene, but this certainly was no imaginable real love scene, was it? In a real love scene the man would at this point crack his wife's skull, or at least give a good imitation of doing it. Then he would leap into his car, drive off with tyres screeching, to beat up his rival. But the author is not inclined to make any changes. If the man really loves his wife, he would behave as outlined in the script. True love is selfless by definition. If the producer is willing to debate the matter, the discussion would presumably turn on there being two kinds of love: forgiving or vengeful, self-sacrificing or possessive, the love that gives or the love that takes ... Is it so? Are there really two kinds of love, opposite in nature, between a man and a woman? Or is only one of these the real thing, the other a fake? How is it possible that an experience every adult must have had at least once in his life, a phenomenon thoroughly explored by generations of psychoanalysts, the favourite age-old theme of writers, composers, artists, can still be the subject of so much misunderstanding? What is love? ...

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