There's a moment - I don't know if you also recall it - towards the end of The Silence of the Lambs, when Clarice Starling sees Hannibal Lecter for the last time. She implores him for a clue to the identity of "Buffalo Bill," the man who's been killing and skinning women. And they have the following conversation:
Lecter: First principles, Clarice. Simplicity. Read Marcus Aurelius. Of each particular thing ask: what is it in itself? What is its nature? What does he do, this man you seek?
Starling: He kills women...
Lecter: No. That is incidental. What is the first and principal thing he does? What needs does he serve by killing?
Starling: Anger, um, social acceptance, and, huh, sexual frustrations, sir...
Lecter: No! He covets. That is his nature. And how do we begin to covet, Clarice? Do we seek out things to covet? Make an effort to answer now.
Starling: No. We just...
Lecter: No. We begin by coveting what we see every day. Don't you feel eyes moving over your body, Clarice? And don't your eyes seek out the things you want?
I was cogitating on this passage and thinking about Melanie "good breast/ bad breast" Klein, a complicated shrinkette if ever there was one, who wrote the book, literally and figuratively, on covetousness and envy: Envy and Gratitude, not to mention Love, Guilt and Reparation.
My musings came in the wake of Sunday's "revelation" about President Jacob G Zuma having engendered a 20th child because .....because, geez, have you ever encountered, listened to or read such an outpouring of pathetic, heart-tearing envy in your life?
From Redi Direko on Radio 702, to Justice Malala and Phylicia Oppelt in The Times, to Helen Zille in Cape Town (well, sort of expected it from her), to the Rev KRJ Meshoe, MP, of the ACDP and the whinnying legal expert Pierre de Vos, what a bunch of Mother Grundys...!
Let's get a few things in perspective, shall we? We Africans are, as Alex Shoumatoff wrote 22 years ago, a sex-positive bunch. We like to slip, and to receive, what the late Frank Zappa, may his memory be blessed, referred to as the big chiluga. We're a fun-loving bunch. As far as I can tell, everyone, everyone, in this country - except me, and maybe not my wife - is going at it like a jack rabbit.