Friday, January 20, 2012

Why is this man angry?




After my fight with D earlier this week, you'd think I would know better than to dare write anything about politics. But this isn't about politics ... not really. It just happens to be about one particular politician who is in the news right about now. And it's really about sex. Sex and marriage. Sex and adultery. That sort of thing.

I was as intrigued as anyone when I saw the news a couple of days ago that Marianne Gingrich had given an interview in which she said that Newt had asked for an open marriage after telling her about his affair with Callista Bisek. Not that the affair itself was news; Newt had already confessed publicly to a number of affairs (including this one). But we don't often see the words "open marriage" in print, ascribed to our major political figures.

And of course Newt was asked about it at the beginning of the South Carolina debate, and of course he bristled and snapped back angrily. One could hardly expect him to do anything else. The news was likely to reflect badly on him while he is trying to collect votes for the nomination, so of course he would want to bury it -- or, if that's impossible, to discredit anybody who mentions it. All this is absolutely predictable.

Only ... it occurred to me this afternoon that maybe there was another answer he could have given. It would have been a long-shot, but it might not thereby have been false. Certainly it would have been more interesting than anything he did say. I have written out just such an alternate answer below. I don't know Newt's style well enough to imitate him. I am aware that what I have written is pompous and self-serving, but I hope that makes it sound believable in the mouth of any politician. And while some of the ideas here are recognizably mine, please don't take the whole character of "Newt" here to be any kind of mouthpiece for me.

Anyway, it runs something like this:

Yes, I asked Marianne for an open marriage before we divorced, so that I could remain married to her and still continue to see Callista, with whom I had become deeply involved. As you all know, nothing came of it. Marianne turned down my suggestion, and we divorced. But to this day I am proud that I did the right thing by her in asking first, ... in giving her a chance at another way to write our story.

We all know that divorce is sometimes necessary, sometimes even unavoidable, but always -- always -- destructive. It tears apart households and lives. I thank God that Marianne and I had no children at home to be caught in the middle, but the cost of a divorce even on the separating couple themselves is deep and harsh. What I offered Marianne was a chance to avoid that calamity, the devastation of divorce. What I offered her was the best -- and only remaining -- chance for the two of us to stay true to the vows we had sworn to each other so many years before: always to be there for each other, never to leave. Marianne chose otherwise, and of course I wouldn't dream of second-guessing her, or of trying to force her hand. I will say that her choice saddened me, because in the end she chose to sacrifice our marriage to her own ego. But we live in a free country, after all, so I had to respect her choice even if I disagreed with it.

Marianne might say that she didn't choose out of egotism, that she didn't choose to leave me, but that all she asked was for me to stop seeing Callista. But that was a profoundly selfish thing to ask. At that point, Callista and I had been involved for some six years already. And we all know, if we are honest with ourselves, that the bonds forged during a long-term affair are just as deep, just as heartfelt, as the bonds we enter into before witnesses. At that point no clergyman had yet solemnized our commitment to each other, Callista's and mine, but the good Lord could already see that our love and our commitment to each other were deep and profound. To give up Callista at that point would have been just as destructive, just as devastating, as to give up Marianne. You can argue that Calista and I should never have become intimate in the first place, and I suppose we could be here all night debating that point. All I can say is that that horse had long since left the barn. By the time this conversation ever happened, Callista and I had been involved for six years. And six years is simply a long time.

I suppose that the news agencies reporting this story all hope it will discredit me in my campaign for the nomination. We Republicans are used to the hostility of the mainstream media, and I'm sure some editor somewhere hopes I'll go into a rage denouncing him for ever printing the article, so that people will think I'm some kind of Mad Bomber. But the truth is that I'm glad this story came out when it did. I've never told it before, because ... shucks, you all know how shy and self-effacing I can be. [smiles, chuckles] But I still believe that I offered to do the right thing in a difficult and complex situation, and I am glad for the opportunity to say so in public. The American people know that their own lives aren't always as simple and tidy as you find in storybooks for little children; and so I look forward confidently to their forgiveness and even approval. In a confusing and challenging situation, I tried to meet my obligations to Marianne and Callista both at the same time. It didn't work out, but I will always carry with me the satisfaction that I tried honorably to do the right thing. Thank you for giving me a chance, finally after all these years, to set the record straight on this topic.

So what do you think? Could Newt have gotten away with an argument like this one? Could this have returned him a favorable verdict in the court of public opinion? Or am I just being silly?

Lots of questions .....

Then of course for another point of view, there is this interview with John Oliver from "The Daily Show."


[I am having trouble remembering how to embed the video, but here is the link: https://www.cc.com/video/mwo060/the-daily-show-with-jon-stewart-indecision-2012-the-freaker-of-the-spouse-newt-gingrich-s-negotiation-skills]




3 comments:

Janeway said...

My daughter remarked, when Newt said the story was false,
"what part was false? that he asked her?"

Ms. Inconspicuous said...

Having been in the caught-cheating situation, and now being in an open marriage, I can still say that the way Newt went about things was assholish.

You don't ask for an open marriage as the only option; do this or we're done.

"I'm having an affair. I'm unwilling to quit. Open our marriage or we're getting a divorce."

There's not a whole lot of respect-for-the-spouse there. It sounds like she wasn't even given options to set up mutually-agreed-upon parameters in the open marriage--which is pretty key.

Hosea Tanatu said...

Janeway -- I like that. Much pithier than my version, but with the same idea. And after all, once your private life has been broadcast on worldwide television, don't the rules about what to admit and what to conceal change just a little?

Ms. I -- Oh yes, of course I agree. It is quite clear from Marianne Gingrich's interview that respect-for-the-spouse was hardly a priority, ... that it was all about him. In a perfect world, or if it were somebody else, I'd like to wish that that were the answer to Janeway's daughter's question: viz., that in reality he was more considerate than she describes. But I don't believe it. Everything we have seen of this man over the last couple of decades makes the story from the interview sound completely in character.

That's part of why I figured the speech I made up for him would sound so transparently self-serving. I just figure that we in the public are used to hearing transparently self-serving hypocrisy from a lot of politicians, and what I wrote for him surely couldn't be any worse than what he actually did say. I just figure that when you are caught with your pants down (so to speak), you have a better chance of surviving by brazening it out than by denying everything. Of course, the results in South Carolina make it look like I'm wrong, so what the hell do I know ...?