There are no fixed answers, nor any Utopias. The rules that govern the economy as well as those that dictate sexual mores are susceptible to periodic mutations. Therefore two disparate books, two contrasting voices protesting the status quo and recommending drastic change, can be linked despite their very different spheres.
"They were bran new people, in bran new houses in bran new quarters. Everything about them was spic and span new. And their furniture was new, all their friends were new -- their plate was new, their pictures were new, themselves were new -- in their establishment from hall chairs with new coat of arms, to the pianoforte [read technical improvements] ... with new action -- all things were in a state of high varnish and color."
Is this Tom Wolfe from "A Man in Full," his latest novel set in Atlanta in 1998? No -- it is Charles Dickens in "Our Mutual Friend," the time is 19th-century London. The lines could serve as epigraph for "Luxury Fever: Why Money Fails to Satisfy in an Era of Excess," a work by Robert H. Frank (Free Press, 336, $25).
It is Frank's contention that in this boom era, the rich have multiplied; they no longer constitute a tip of the triangle, but an entire population.
"But, it is not just the rich who have gone on a spending spree," he writes. "Middle- and lower-income earners have been spending more as well, the prime mover in their change may have been the increased spending of the super-rich, but their higher spending level has set a new standard for the near rich to emulate and so on down the income ladder."
The standard of life is on the rise due to "conspicuous spending," but life's quality has been degraded. People are forced to work longer hours and they have reduced time with their families, they lack sleep and breathe polluted air and drink polluted water. Yet they continue to buy expensive automobiles and build larger houses, while the infrastructure falls into decay and public schools are unable to meet acceptable levels. Despite a thriving economy and a balanced budget, the hue and cry is still "Not enough money."
Frank does not despair. He presents an apparently simple solution: a tax on all luxury spending in proportion to incomes. It would not be a tax on the goods themselves -- that has been in use already. But who is to say which article is superfluous, which is not? That judgment is as variable as the consumer himself.
Frank approves a free society, yet freedom to compete has its downside; it may prove to be "smart for one but dumb for all," he claims. And, although he respects the fundamental ideas of Adam Smith, he doubts the philosopher's dreamy faith that what is good for the few must profit, eventually, for all, through the mysterious, unexplained workings of the "invisible hand" -- an early version of the "trickle-down" theory that Frank believes has had its day.
Frank continues, "I do not mean to suggest that Adam Smith's 'invisible hand' has had a negative impact; on the contrary, free market economies all over the globe, whole institutions were inspired by it. . . . Contrast theirs to the experience of the former Soviet Union and other managed economies. Organized on the principle that government ownership and management of the means of production would best serve society's ends, these experiments have proved, invariably, dismal failures. . . . We must be careful, however, not to infer too much from this contrast. It tells us not that the economy as a free-for-all is the best of all possible arrangements, but only that it works better than the economy of bureau committee -- the individual pursuit of self-interest will not result in the greatest good for all . . . "
Can Mr. Frank's remedy for the lowering of "luxury fever" succeed? Will it ever be presented to the public? Not even its promulgator can be sure that this new luxury tax will be an antitoxin that will work. But, he prophesizes that "until the disease is controlled, we will keep on spending more and more money for nothing."
Wendy Shalit is a young woman recently graduated from Williams College, where she became renowned for her part in the abolition of unisex bathrooms in the dormitories! Her first book is "A Return to Modesty: Discovering the Lost Virtue" (Free Press, 304 pages, $24). She has appeared, also, in many "think journals," from the vantage of the new right of the women's movement.
The offspring of "baby boomers," Ms. Shalit opposes the lingering '60s revolution, its lack of law and order, especially where "free love" is concerned. She exhorts the women of her own generation to wait for the right mate, if possible, the only one for a lifetime.
"A Return to Modesty" shows that its author has read, widely, on the sociology of sex. Her pages are sprinkled generously with famous names such as Havelock Ellis, Stendhal, Allan Bloom, Jung, Freud. Shalit is not alone in this contemporary counterrevolution-in-the-bud; she is joined by other young sisters in the cause, among them the famous authors of "The Rules," a runaway best-seller for several years.
Early in the book she defines her title and makes evident her direction. "There are two very different kinds of modesty, of course. There is first modesty in the sense of being humble -- the French have two words to keep them straight: 'modestie' is the humble kind and 'pudeur,' the sexual kind. There are also two words in Latin: 'modestia' means a respect for decency and 'pudor' refers to conscientiousness regarding sexual behavior and dress -- we have only one word."
Wendy Shalit believes that the display of nudity destroys women's erotic power while Robert Frank proclaims that the exhibition and proliferation of material objects among the wealthy breeds more spending. We have come a long way from the parsimony as well as the puritanism of our early American settlers.
Shalit has not forgotten the gains of yesterday's feminist movement: the vote, and the education that has enabled women to enter the marketplace, nor does she overlook the founders, but Gloria Steinem, Betty Friedan and Simone de Beauvoir appear as lifeless statues in an unfrequented hall of fame.
Shalit aims to revive an older past. She deplores the casual sex born of the '60s, and its concomitant epidemics of anorexia and bulimia, its deadly drug abuse. Her ideal woman is modeled along the lines of a Jane Austen heroine, her manner of dress and her adherence to the strict traffic laws of sexual behavior.
"A Return to Modesty" is not a memoir, and Wendy Shalit avoids the embarrassing personal confessions in vogue at present. She tells us almost nothing of her own sexual experience. Is this "pudeur" or the confidence in abstraction of a youthful polemicist?
As a reaction to the license of the '60s, Wendy Shalit and her cohorts are attempting to force the metronome sharply backward to a bygone era. But only time can regulate the pendulum's sway to and fro, according to its own internal beat.
"History cannot repeat itself. It rhymes." (Mark Twain -- reporting at the impeachment of President Andrew Johnson.)
Dorothea Straus has written six books, among them "Virgins and Other Species" and "Under the Canopy." She has written for Harper's Bazaar and the Partisan Review.
Pub Date: 03/07/99