I hate Margot


Once Margot fully delved into deceit I became interested in what I had initially thought of as a lifeless movie. I then found myself thoroughly annoyed and disgusted in Margot. That's good work for a film. Emotional investment isn't an easy thing to pull from an audience.

I think Margot is a disgusting human being Ina believable sense. Anyone who acts so self absorbed and vague about their own discomforts, yet is so unaware of their own shortcomings, is someone I want nothing to do with. It's a pity her destruction isn't isolated to just her own warped psyche; she drags her family and friends through her mess as well. My only sense of solace is that someone like her will rarely be happy. Haunted by their past decisions and chasing an endless desire will torment someone in living a terrible life.

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I feel sorry for her. She's a very pathetic person.

What we have here is failure to communicate!

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Literature (and movies) is full of characters who are interesting and sympathetic because of their failings. A great deal of tragedy in fiction derives from people lacking self-awareness, realizing things too late, etc. Margo has the same flaws many human beings do, the same beliefs that don't really help her deal with life, the same inhibitions and obsessions, and the same weaknesses. The movie shows us how and why she ends up where she does, without defending it. Her choices may be despicable, but I don't think she's worthy of real hate, unless all human beings are.

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They all are

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[deleted]

I guess some of us married dudes ought to be terrified that at any given moment, this could be going on in the mind of the woman sleeping beside us, the mother of our children. I am.

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[deleted]

Or to relinquish control of your own mind and body.

But yeah...terrifying for either gender. And as much as I actually like being married, I can totally understand anybody who says they don't want to do it. Marriage, that is, or any kind of lifetime or long-term commitment. There just isn't any way to avoid the fact that you could be lied to constantly and never know it, certainly not for a long time, and maybe not ever. There are all kinds of reputable studies with good methodology on how people generally think they can "spot a liar," but in truth they can't, not with any reliability. Putting your life and your "heart" (for lack of a better word) in the hands of somebody else, even somebody you've known for a long time...really, "terrifying" seems too small a word.

I mean, you can simply decide it's not that kind of relationship; you can figure out ways to buffer yourself against the possibility that you'll find out something devastating like this one day (the odds aren't actually all that bad if we're talking about decades, are they?); you can decide not to stake your happiness, or at least not all of it, on this joint venture. But then it's a different kind of thing, isn't it?

At this point it would be romantic to say something like "it's the risk that makes it worth doing, you can't hold back any of yourself, etc."; but I'll bet if you asked somebody who'd been through this, you'd get a different answer. And the problem is, it's not all that rare. Which, again, makes me totally understand anybody who doesn't want to walk this road.

I guess I ought to stop this, or I'm going to end up thinking about existential aloneness and get nonfunctional in about ten minutes... ;-)

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[deleted]

Boy, did you ever ask the question of the week (it was absolutely neither too rude or personal, or rude at all):

Did your wife watch this film?

Um...[gulp]...no.

I wouldn't ask you to speak for her, but I did wonder if she saw it (either with you or after). I wonder what that would feel like to watch with a spouse or serious partner of a decent period of time. "So....you want a sandwich?"

I actually laughed out loud.

Like I said, for a married person, this is a horror movie. I'm actually not kidding about that. It's terrifying. What can you really know of another person, even after a decade or two, or however many? You know what the person says and how he/she acts. You make your best judgment. But how can you actually know?

[splashes water on face, recovers a bit.]

The expression "can of worms" comes to mind. Sort of feels like if I had a remote camera and could see on the other side of the door that I would open if we watched this together, there's all kinds of cackling entities just waiting to abuse and torture me. No, I'm not supposed to be on any kind of medications. And no, I really don't think there's been an affair, etc. (And she is wonderful. Really. Best ever. Wouldn't trade her for ten Michelle Johnsons. Well, not NOW, for sure, not now that I know Michelle Johnson is a cheating little hussy who will rip your heart out and step on it with her oh-so-trendy little heel, the tra...wait a minute.) I'm just old enough to understand how the law of unintended consequences works.

Honestly, I think nearly all married people -- certainly nearly all husbands, and literally every one I've ever talked to -- have those moments when they wonder whether there's any way they actually know what the truth is, or whether it's all a fiction. A beautiful fiction, in a happy marriage. But still, maybe, a fiction. What's going on in that other head? What does he/she know? What happened or didn't happen? The final inability to reach certainty on those questions is what I mean by "aloneness." But I guess there's a point where "reasonably certain" has to be operationally enough. Does that sound sufficiently clinical and detached?

But seriously, in spite of all that, I've been thinking about it. Big breath preceding, but yeah. I'm really, really interested in her reaction.

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Very well put!

Yes, that's the fear we husbands have!

But a truly good woman who loves her husband and he is very gentle and good to the wife would never no what Margot did!!! That is why she is hated and dispised!

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I don't know if she's so much "disgusting" as infuriating. Essentially, she drifts into an affair in the way a lot of people do -- just some initial intrigue, some questioning of their choices, the feeling of their own mortality (really? sleeping with only one other, forever? how could I have really meant that when I said it?), dipping a toe in to see what the water feels like, indulging yourself with one more meeting, and then...pain in so many ways, in such magnitude, from so many directions that you never anticipated and never even knew existed.

Honestly, it's a very, very tough film to watch. Also one of the most worthwhile things I've seen in a really long time.

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[deleted]

Well, but how do you know it wouldn't have happened if Lou had been less boring and paid more attention to her sexually? I get what you're saying, but some people stray regardless. Sometimes the spouse's flaw is just that he's only one person and can't be any more than that. But still...I think a less certain version of what you're saying is probably true. If he pays even decent attention to her as anything more than a bud or a prank object, maybe she doesn't drift.

Still, though, if you're looking for "it wouldn't have happened but for X" statements, this seems to be the most certain one: It wouldn't have happened if she'd said "no" and turned her attention where it needed to be, rather than making her advances to her husband sort of an "I'm testing you, and you don't know this yet, but if you fail, I'm gone with this other guy" kind of thing. In the end, she's the one who has the reins. But yeah, Lou's behavior, or lack of it, is a factor, of course. It's just that it seems wrong, IMHO, to end up at a position that is essentially "It's really Lou's fault for not paying attention...he paid the price," which is half a step from "What else could she do? She did only what anybody in that situation would."

I do think you're onto something, though, with the idea that this really isn't about only Margot's reaction to the boring sameness that this marriage has become. Both of them react to it, it's true. Much truth in your second graf particularly.

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[deleted]

Hey, I'm not trying to crawl backward to a state where women -- or men (I don't know why we're being specific as to gender here) -- don't "own their sexual experience." I'm just saying, ownership also implies the ability to give it to somebody else, which is essentially what you're doing, at least in a partial way, when you take vows of fidelity. You're not exploring your sexuality with anybody else. It's all for this one individual person. In a larger context, it's a way of saying individuality and personhood matter. If all I need is to get from A to B, I get a car, which is a thing, not a person, to do it. If this one won't do, another one will. Ten other ones. Ten thousand other ones. But if we're talking about a person, and a commitment for life, it's a statement that "only you will do." Limiting your sexual activity to that one person for life isn't a matter of not owning your sexuality, and betraying that person and breaking the vow to have an affair is not a noble expression of that ownership. (I know you're not saying it is.)

Anyway...you're right, as usual, about what a little clarity and up-frontness might've done, how it might've changed things. You would think this school-of-coyness thing would've died out some time ago, but it hasn't. I don't think that's necessarily all bad. I think there's a tendency for a decent person to feel a little selfish about saying "hey, I'm feeling a little neglected over here." It feels a little wrong, but if you look at it as a kind of contract, obviously it's not. You got into the deal because you thought the other person was interested in you that way, as you're interested in him or her. It matters when somebody changes the terms. You have to be reasonable about expectations, but when it dwindles to near nothing -- when you can see Michelle Frickin' Johnson walking into the shower in front of you, and you just keep flossing -- I mean...come on. Being reasonable cuts both ways. And I don't even think it takes an "ideal world" for that to happen. Just a sensible one with real adults, to whom their marriage means enough to do it. That's part of the damned tragedy of this story. I actually think the tragedy is exactly what happens in so many actual affairs: Things go wrong. Maybe they just go dead, complacent, whatever. Neither person knows what to do. They make halting efforts to do something or to figure out a way to get where they want to be. They're not direct and explicit. They hint and fumble. They honestly don't know what they're doing and don't know what to do. One of them ends up puzzled, the other one ends up in somebody else's bed, and that is the absolute end of whatever they had before. It's just awful.

It wasn't investigated too deeply or closely, but that's an aspect to consider: that Margot, that steamy summer, was embarking on this discovery of her own desires. She may have felt a longing for something beyond tickling and baby talk and comfortable steady love from her husband.

Well...yes, but that (and the rest of the graf) sound a little too detached, in a way, from any concerns about right and wrong. It's possible that if my wife has a couple of bad months at work and is a real pain at home, maybe I need to explore something, and a young-and-attractive little thang comes along just when I need her, and we explore. But it's more than that kind of clinical, nonjudgmental, casual sort of description, isn't it? (I actually doubt you mean it that way, judging by everything else you've posted.)

As for calling your reaction to the extended scene between Daniel and Margot (et al) "harsh" or overreactive, I don't think so. Not unless you're talking about what somebody like Margot might've been perceiving at the time. It's true that a person like Margot probably wouldn't be experiencing it as "empty" at the time. And it's not like Polley filmed that chain of images in a concrete garage, with trash blowing all around and tragic music playing. It seems like a pleasant enough environment (although I did think it was sterile and bad-'80s-movie-ish compared to the home with Lou), and maybe somebody like Margot experiences it as "exploration," or whatever. But every moment of it is a knife into Lou and their life together.

However, it is important, I think, that she sees it as positive or pleasurable at the time, even if she's conflicted about that, because that would be more true-to-life for two primary reasons I can think of:

1. Of course it would be "pleasurable" at first, especially if "pleasure" divorced from everything else in your life is what you're after. You can get that, alright. There's an analogy here to something like drug use. People who tell their kids that drugs are horrible right from the get-go, that you'll mess yourself up the first time you do anything, are doing their kids a real disservice. We've always put it this way to our kids: If you get involved, you're going to find that at first, it's not only not bad, it's absolutely wonderful. It might be the best feeling you've ever had in your life. If we tell you otherwise, and then you go find out it feels great, you're going to stop listening. So yeah, it's stunningly great, at first. For most people, it's only over time that problems develop, your health suffers, some people are debilitated, some people die, lots of people commit crimes so they can afford whatever drug they're on, etc. So now you're a thief, an addict, and probably a liar. If you're in a relationship or married, the money and time and effort that would've gone there start getting eaten up by trying to repeat those early days of absolute bliss, that great feeling. So really, your problem isn't "drugs." It's your need to seek a feeling to the exclusion of all other concerns. It's your decision to start down a road that isn't so bad now but probably won't end well, or in other words, your preference for the short term over the long run. The drug is just the medium, or the mechanism.

The parallels are obvious. People generally don't get sexually interested in somebody else and then fall into bed with that person because it feels bad. Of course it doesn't, at first. Detached from all other concerns, isolated from the rest of your life, including your history and your future, and everybody else in it, hey, it's a fun ride. Of course, one thing you'd have to ask yourself is why you're operating on a simple pleasure/pain principle, why pleasurable consciousness-altering seems to be your highest value even if it destroys everything else in your life. There's something very unevolved and lower-organism about it. And, just as with substance addiction, at some point you have to think whether you "own your sexuality," or whether it owns you in a really destructive way. (I'm talking about either gender here.)

2. Ambiguity and conflict tend to get pushed out of the way when a decision gets made, and for at least some time thereafter, all evidence tends to get read in favor of the decision. This is why polls of soldiers' families about the rightness of a particular war always end up overwhelmingly in favor, because what's the alternative? That their sons and daughters, and husbands and wives, are going off to fight a war for oil, or political advantage, or whatever? The position of "definitely justified, definitely right" is a statement of how much they love their family members and how they don't want them to be involved in a meaningless effort, not an objective statement of the actual rightness of the war.

Here, it has to do with Margot's decision. She's jumped. That's it. She has a stake in considering it "right," at least in the short term. For some time thereafter, she's trying to make a go of it. That's what actual human beings do. If she'd thought it was the wrong thing to do at that time, she wouldn't have done it. So she sees it as "good" for a while.

And just for what it's worth: I'd say the same thing about how people act not just when leaping into an affair, but also after a decision to marry and after an actual marriage, too. Maybe even Margot-and-Lou's marriage. Once they find themselves wanting to move toward and then into marriage, couples tend to lose objectivity and judgment. Sometimes that's because of love or some other positive thing; sometimes it's resignation or some kind of learned helplessness. But either way, any evidence to the contrary that would suggest it's the wrong thing to do is just ignored or bypassed, or altered.

In fact, I'd say that deciding to marry (or actually taking the vows) OR taking the leap into an affair is frequently (I'd say most of the time) like entering into a temporary kind of insanity, or fantasy, or insane fantasy, which may or may not work out or seem right in the long run -- if so, it's almost completely a stroke of luck, given the circumstances in which that decision is made and acted on -- but in the short term all evidence is read in favor of the decision that's already been made. There's probably some kind of primal survival advantage in that tendency, in terms of evolutionary biology; but then, I don't think we necessarily ought to be ruled by what's "natural" in that sense. Otherwise, we'd be lopping off the heads of neighbors for food and sex with the surviving significant other, and other such ugliness and incivility.

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[deleted]

It didn't come off as scolding at all. I'm just talking about what many people would mean by "owning their sexuality," etc.

But I am a human person, so I know that everyone deserves within their relationship some measure of safety and comfort. No one wants to live with the fear that if they go through a dry spell or rough patch the other person will abandon them or rush to fill their own needs. I am not a religious person, but I see the value in things like the pre-Cana. If one is going to embark on a shared life journey with another person, an investigation of "for better or worse" seems very very wise.

You said it. I think as this whole discussion evolves, it's apparent that one of the elements at the core is the question (or dimension) of the long-term versus the short-term. This is why coming up with "rules" is always inferior to using judgment. No reasonable, compassionate person would tell another person that once you've made the vows, no matter how you're treated or ignored after that point, it's evil and selfish to want out. After ten years? Twenty? You have to end your one life on this planet in misery and loneliness, wondering for decades what you did wrong, whether it was all the other person, getting to the point where you can't even remember what it felt like to have that kind of love and attention? No merciful God would say that's the rightful fate of somebody who essentially guessed wrong. But it's also true that things can be variable in the short term, and expecting a constant bonfire isn't reasonable either, nor is it compassionate to the other person who is guilty only of being sort of...normal.

It's sort of amazing, by the way, that you're able and willing to be so moderate on this subject, having been cheated on repeatedly. I'm really sorry that happened. I would think such a film would be really hard to watch, after all that.

I do think, as you say, that it's a good thing to be a little reluctant to "judge" in the sense of making any final statements about who's eternally damned (or whatever) and who isn't, as long as that doesn't paralyze a person from the inclination to make the right distinctions between right and wrong. (For absolutists on the "I'm not judgmental" thing, I always ask them: The last child molester-murderer you read about, did you "judge" him? What if I told you not to be "judgmental" about that kind of behavior? What you find out is that in nearly all these instances, their idea of being "nonjudgmental" really has to do with the fact that the subject at hand isn't all that big a deal to them. For instance, somebody tells us we're supposed to be "nonjudgmental" about something like the behavior of a philandering athlete, when what that person really means, if you ask enough questions, is something like "adultery by a pro athlete really isn't that big a deal to me, and I'm annoyed by the prospect of keeping this guy off the field so I don't enjoy the game as much." And so forth.)

Anyway...It's always hard to strike a balance between believing in right-and-wrong on one side, and not being too certain of your own concepts about it or about the complete situations of other people, on the other side. That's why I objected so strongly to the idea of "Margot as slut" and all that rot, and why I think it's so completely wrong in a reading of this very true-to-life story. Margot did what a lot of readers and viewers would do, and what a lot of people out in the world actually do. Like so many things in the world of adult humans, both A and B are true: It was completely understandable, while being completely tragic. It doesn't make her an evil being, but much evil resulted. She was not the only cause, not the only factor in what happened, but she was the one most in control who could've stopped it from happening. It was a little like something that happened, like a weather front, like pain descending on the family and friends, but also like something she did. Or rather, that she didn't avoid. Or both. Like things happen in the actual world.

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[deleted]

Yep for me she was a disgusting human being
if she wasn't happy with Lou then she should've asked to leave, she didn't
if she wanted Daniel then she should've asked to leave, again she didn't
she only asked to leave after the cyber sex in the bar and jumping in his bed unexpectedly and making her decision to leave
if Lou did something wrong she should've talked to him or asked to leave, she only left when she had an alternative and encouraged the idea of leaving
she wasn't strong enuff to leave when she needed or thought she needed to leave, she only left when she felt she had to leave without a warning.


"It is never about what happened, it is only how you look at it!"

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Ive been in love with two people at once, and it is refreshing to see it portrayed so realistically. People say you cheat because you aren't getting everything you need from your relationship, but I don't think that needs to be the case. It's very possible to be completely fulfilled by a relationship and still be attracted to someone else. The new person may just resonate with you in a way you can't avoid. I don't think Margot was unhappy in her marriage, and if she hadn't met Daniel/Daniel hadn't been obviously interested/They hadn't been fatefully neighbors, she and Lou would have grown old together and Margot wouldn't have had doubts. It was timing and circumstance and a vibe that felt right at the time, and the two men each brought a different vibe to the table.

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...which is why I like this movie. Hopefully, those who see it will ask the right questions and address whether or not they want to, and think they are able to enter into a commitment where they agree to forsake everyone else that they are attracted to for the rest of their life.

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