I have a problem with a woman. A particular one. And getting much worse.
Ever since I had started my medical practice almost thirty years ago she has been faithfully coming every day, rain or shine, to share her multifaceted plight with me. She sits down on the opposite side of my desk, looks me straight in the eye and starts her discourse with these words: “I am emotionally frustrated.” She is Emma Bovary.
Ever since I read “Madame Bovary” as a teen student in the “Alliance Francaise” of Montevideo, I have been mesmerized by the story of a beautiful and ardent wife of a country medical practitioner that could not find any solace in her grey existence. At the time I could not fathom how she could be so restless and ungrateful to the consideration and attention of her loving husband, to the point of being unfaithful. However, the ensuing studies and practice as a medical doctor gave me the necessary insight to understand, if still not agree with, the cause of her resilient, profound angst. More and more I could see the big and small, yet none the less painful, humiliations and scorn any woman must endure with unequal stoicism during her entire life. A common misconception is that women speak more than men. They do not. They are only more careful in what they say as our words can hurt the loved ones around us. I had left my copy of the novel in a box full of books in my mother’s living room; somehow, she sprung out of it to pursue me all the way from Buceo to Miami Beach.
Even in our hyper-connected age, she still cannot get her message through. On the contrary the plethora of social media connections has somehow increased her confusion as her recipients seem more tone-deaf than ever to her deepest concerns. As the tragic trifecta of memory, love and the passage of time relentlessly gnaws at her soul, she has been nagging me to sit down and transcribe what she has told me. The Spanish language differentiates between the role of “escritor”—someone that is inspired by an elevated artistic mission—and the mundane one of “escribidor”—a clandestine agent that struggles with words and tends to sink in dark undercurrents. I am her escribidor—squabbling with thrifty muses and fighting with mean demons.
A strange phenomenon has occurred to me almost imperceptibly but firmly: the causes of her “emotional frustration” have started to percolate into my mind. Moreover, the daily exercise of listening attentively has developed in my manly brain one of the greatest wonders that women are endowed with: mirror neurons. Slowly I have learned to read almost any rictus of her face without any exchange of words. I can even discern how her mood is by just looking at the way she steps in. Prodded by the cultural and socio-economic constraints of a still patriarchal society, they have been more focused on “association” rather then “action” like we men had. In order to find out quickly and prudently what their children and other members of their clan needed, women have developed this gift ever since our times in the caves. But men can start to close the gap by doing what they beg us to do: listen to them.
Sigmund Freud was perhaps the first man ever that really listened to women. In his Vienna medical cabinet, Freud sat down next to a lady that would start to “freely associate” to open her mind and heart to the scrutiny of a researcher. Thus he had the courage to study what his master Charcot had dismissively considered as “la chose genitale” when they were examining hysterical patients in La Salpetriere. The extraordinarily rich emotional armamentarium of a woman exposes her to multiple instances of frustration when her goals, or those of people she cares about, are not reached for sexual, familiar, financial, professional and even social reasons. After his workday, Freud had the temerity to go back home to listen to this wife and, if some unconfirmed reports are true, his sister-in-law too— his secret lover. Brave.
I have noticed the risoing importance of female bonding in Emma’s life. Women—historically oppressed by patriarchal institutions and biologically burdened by the travails of the family—usually find the needed emotional support and social connectedness within their circle of friends, both male and female. Moreover, as women live more of their adult lives without a steady partner or a traditional family, they share more purposes and experiences with their loyal friends.
Based on his clinical experience, Antón Chekov wrote about the paradoxical facets of our behaviour. Human beings are biologically hardwired for contradiction—the essence of all the creative processes—because we all have two brains and two minds. The Left “propositional” Hemisphere is logical and analytical while the Right “appositional” hemisphere is perceptual and synthetic. As a result, all the sensory input to the Right Hemisphere (originating in the body’s left side) is stored without any hard analysis or judgement. Contradictions coexist in a certain harmony there. Women have more neural connections, through the Corpus Callosum, between the Right and Left hemispheres, thus better integrating the “emotional aspect” in deeds.
In a few days we will celebrate the second anniversary of our medical and literary web page at https://drmolaplume.com ,which has been a resounding success; we have grouped our writings in series, one of which was “Emotional frustration.” It constituted the necessary scaffolding to slowly start constructing this sailing boat, besides gauging the reaction of our readers and pleading for their propitious hawa. I would like to especially thank my two children for their unfaltering support all these years besides helping me in concrete ways. Noel Marie designed the beautiful cover and Gian Luca helped me edit the text; both have commented many articles. As Life is a perpetual journey along the treacherous channels to Wisdom that our ancestors had navigated before us, I would like to thank my grandparents and parents for their genetic endowment of indefatigable discoverers and a sure moral compass. Dear readers, please grab our hand so we do not waver when we’re in the high seas. As I have been saying at the end of each one of my articles on this critical subject:
Do not leave us alone!