Pain for the Pleasure
Mars and Venus in the Bedroom, by John Gray circa 1995 – picture the cycle of satiation of sexual pleasure as described in the audio cassette version that I listened to when I borrowed my sister in law’s truck. Desire, penetration, release of tension, retreat, renewal of desire, penetration release of sexual tensions and retreat again and the exponential pleasure of renewing over and over that small cycle of tortured agony of wanting so bad and the joy of the catch with the release of tension that it brings. I had to pause the tape as he went on to describe the 4th penetration cycle, not just from getting hot but it suddenly reminded me of my partner. And not for the reason that you think.
My partner said to me recently that the greatest pleasure, when drinking our wine, is that the high acidity flushes the mouth. So you stick a big wad of fatty cheese in there and coat your tongue in fat then luxuriate some high acid wine over it to clean it off; and you know what he says then? THIS WE KNOW. But! The epiphany today, that differs from all the times we’ve exalted the effects of high acid wine on cheese/fatty meat pairings, particularly wild duck, and mallards to be exact, THIS TIME he has come to the amazing conclusion that the real pleasure is the REPEAT. That you get to do it again and again and again until you’re drunk and don’t know which way a tongue is supposed to lie. By drunk I mean, feel the effects of looseness, get what you came for, you know.
So that’s a curious parallel. The famous bedroom consultant of the 90’s and my modern man’s evaluation of the pleasures of wine being in the repeat of unctuous coating, wipe free and release with acidic wine. Emphasis on the cycle and not necessarily the details of the package that is cycling through, i.e. what it actually tastes like. In case you don’t know what I’m talking about again – wines that are high in acid are mouth-watering, make you salivate, and are bright. All the aromas of one wine can be present and the same in another, but the one with higher acids will lift all the aromas towards the ceiling, they will be brilliant pillars marching down your mouth. And a wine that lacks acid will be a giant puddle of those same aromas in the shape of a bean bag that plops down from the glass onto your tongue and stays there, not washing any fatty foods away and dragging it all down, your mouth, the aromas and the entire evening. Not enabling the tension release and repeat cycle. Nope.
On the eve of a one-hundred-person party tonight I write, after having a good fuck and eating a fried chicken thigh with a sip of wine. I have hours of hard work ahead of me to prepare for this party, I should sleep, instead I vacillate between kicking myself and cancelling the thing, what an idiot to do this, why do I do it every year? and the ecstatic joy of anticipating the hubbub flurry of a party, a mass of arrivals, hugs, dispersals, jokes, laughter, miscommunications, near disasters and then eat, fatty mouth, drink, rinse, acid, repeat. A Zola landscape of heads running John Gray’s cycle of Mars and Venus in their mouths. What joy, what pleasure AND all mine the painful anticipation part, so that the release is all the better. That’s my precious cycle of anticipation: the work, hot sweaty food prep and table lugging; and release: here come all the people. All mine that part, pain for the pleasure, in a yearly cycle as we wait every year for summer to bring another pig roast around.
Image use courtesy of the artist Jake Messing - “Monarchy” acrylic on canvas, 2015.
