CHAPTER LIII
THE PRESS AND SEX
There is a whole field of problems connected with our
sex-nature which we are only beginning to explore. Metchnikoff
has told us something. Freud and Jung have told us
more; but long after we have solved our economic problems
we shall still be seeking knowledge about sex. And meantime
men and women grope blindly, and are betrayed into entanglements
and misunderstandings and cruel miseries. If they
happen to be ordinary, respectable citizens, they keep these
things under cover. If they are radicals, trying to square their
preaching and their practice, they will get into weird and
awful predicaments, and then there will be sport for predatory
Journalism!
I have told you the stories of Maxim Gorky, of George D. Herron, of Upton Sinclair. How many such stories would you care to hear? Would you care to hear about Charlotte Perkins Gilman? About Thorstein Veblen? About Jack London, Reginald Wright Kauffman, Clarence Darrow? About Marion Craig Wentworth, Mary Ware Dennett, Gaylord Wilshire, Oscar Lovell Triggs, George Sterling? This that I am giving you is not a list of the vital spirits of our time; it is merely a list of persons of my acquaintance who happen to have been caught upon the hook of an unhappy marriage, gutted, skinned alive, and laid quivering on the red-hot griddle of Capitalist Journalism.
I will tell you a story told to me only the other day. The man asks me not to give his name; he is trying to forget. Poor fellow, as he talks about it, I see the color creep into his forehead, I see his hands begin to shake—all the symptoms I remember so well! I ask him: "Do you start in your sleep, as if someone had touched a live nerve? Do you cry aloud, and carry on long discourses through the night?"
A few years ago this man was a popular "extension" lecturer in Chicago; anywhere in the Middle West he chose to go he could have a couple of thousand people to listen to him.
