From our Canongate archives - 18 October 2000
In one of our specially comissioned 'Sin' articles, Laura Hird gets lusty.
Lust is manifold - lust for life, money, power, glory. As these concepts are alien to me, however, I'll concentrate on the Chambers Dictionary definition, "sexual desire, now always of a degraded kind." Why? Isn't lust merely the tentacle of one's libido? Why does it get the bad name, when love, its supermarket equivalent, causes all the problems? Lust is pure, has no rules, doesn't need any. Love is a politically and religiously devised creation, to make us more responsible. God is love. Nobody believes that either exist any more, but they do. Exist to control the carnal, animal side to us. Both come with their own set of guidelines regarding how we should/shouldn't act. When these don't correspond with what feels natural, we feel guilty. The power of love, right enough.
Lust is the perfect pastime for sinners. Only a fully-fledged sinner could appreciate the double joy of watching someone doing something perfectly innocent, whilst wanting to jump on their bones. Lust is that dirty movie that plays in your head, two seconds after spotting someone who has rubbed you the right way. That flush on your cheeks and neck. The spanner in the works that prevents us all from being just good friends? Just as it's the same thing that makes it extremely difficult to remain friends with an ex.
One of you is always still carrying the lust. Lust gets you pregnant, causes marriages and then breaks them up again. It's the scourge of offices/office parties. The powerful force that makes you spend an inordinate amount of time, doing things you wouldn't otherwise dream of doing, in the hope of catching a glimpse of you particular object of desire. Love is sex with your partner. Lust is passion with someone you fancy.
The internet is, apparently, a hot-bed of lust, so I looked it up lust found a web site called the Confessor. You confess online, then people e.mail in whether you should be absolved or forced into a life of purgatory (a frightening realm of pre-menstrualness with no menstrual at the end of it.) Or you can find it on the chat rooms. Take part in an interactive orgy from the safety of your own boxroom.
HornyGuy: Oh yeah, baby, just there.
Sexygal: You want more honey? Oh yes, oh yes.
Germanvirgin29: Uh uh ooooooooh!
W.EndowedNY: Mmmm.
No wonder people resort to downloading porn.
So why is lust such a bad word? Why does it get the blame for bringing things down when it actually enhances them? When you meet a stranger for the first time, do you wonder what sort of boss/employee they'd make? Do you wonder what hobbies they have? Do you wonder what sports they like? Nah, you wonder what they'd look like bollock naked, then ponder what they'd be like in the sack.
Sadly, I think lust is dying out. It's being curbed into extinction. I don't know anyone whom I could accuse of being filled with lust, any more. Everyone is either rotting away in a lousy, sexless marriage, desperate for a lousy, sexless marriage, or have gone so long without having one, they pretend they don't want one any more. No-one can seem to be bothered. Maybe it's being away from the workplace, the natural habitat for lust. From what I hear though, people are too busy at work nowadays to find time for lust on the job, and too knackered afterwards to give a toss about it. Then weekends, people are usually too busy either drinking, doing overtime, or visiting their estranged children.
Without lust there would be no gossip (this being one of only three types of conversation still used in the UK, the other two being work-related and small-talk) so conversation would eventually die-out completely. Without lust, massage parlours and sex shops would close down, so MSP's, advocates and journalists would have nothing to do of an evening any more. The majority of films, television dramas, soap operas, books, newspapers and magazines would be utterly boring. Teenage girls, lusty teenage boyfriend's wouldn't get them accidentally pregnant, so we'd have to blame someone else for our high taxes (but our taxes aren't high. So what. Blame the single parents anyway). Small family run hotels would be shut down through lack of business. There would be an international shortage of PE teachers. Cliff Richard would get to number one again. Nobody would watch obscure, European films any more. Conferences would no longer take place as the one thing that made people go to them in the first place, would have disappeared...
A world without lust would be a dull, barren wasteland. Do we really want our lives to look like one of these hellish, happy pictures at the front of the little books Jehovahs Witnesses try to get you to read? If your lust is dimming, re-ignite it. Respect it. Thrive on it. It deserves to be preserved.
Laura Hird's debut novel, Born Free, was shortlisted for the Whitbread First Novel Award and nominated for the Orange Prize. Her short stories have appeared in numerous anthologies. Her latest collection of stories, Hope and Other Urban Tales, was published by Canongate in October 2006. Her latest book is Dear Laura, published in March 2007. She lives in Edinburgh.
