The gravest damage occurs when a youngster is bound
closely to a sexually stimulating parent. Timothy, in Chapter
10, is such a child. Children must be free to develop erotic
interests on their own, or else titillation becomes a time
bomb.
They need to experiment and grow outside the highly
charged and necessarily frustrating relationships within the
family. Children in Mangaia and other liberal cultures
develop into erotically healthy adults not only because of
early stimulation, but because they're free to roam the bush
and experiment with one another.
Children in this country
need playmates and independence also.
What about the child who can't move freely beyond the
family? The asthmatic must be carefully guarded against
allergens and the hemophiliac against injury. An only child
who lives in a rural area or a violent neighborhood is necessarily
restricted.
A single parent may bind a child close
because of fear or loneliness. Frequent moves from place to
place may prevent a youngster from establishing himself in
the peer group.
Such children don't need increased erotic
stimulation from parents, especially after age four.
The
chronically ill child is a special problem. He's already amply
aroused by physical ministrations such as bathing and feeding.
Direct physical contact must be minimized and the child
helped to be as active in his own behalf as he can.
As a sick
child feels more helpless, or impotent, than a well child, he
needs to develop as many competencies as possible. Crafts,
writing, playing an instrument, and reading are nonerotic
methods of aiding potency. Parental enthusiasm about the
child's independent erotic ventures is never amiss.
As the world widens, the child looks beyond his mother
and father. He observes how others relate, and what effect
outside events have on his parents. He makes assumptions
based on scant experience and an avid imagination. With a
firm belief in magic he blends the real and impossible to create
theories about everyday experiences. Whenever he is
anxious, fantasies sprout and flower into fantastic schemes.
One sunny afternoon in May, Aunt Figleaf pays an unex
pected visit. Henrietta is stark naked, leaping about the living
room after a puppy. Aunt Figleaf braces herself against
the piano and informs Henrietta that she forgot to put her
clothes on. "No, I didn't" is Henrietta's breezy reply as she
gallops off through the dining room.
Aunt Figleaf was a surgical
nurse in the last world war; clean clothes and soap are
to prevent disease. She delivers an unsolicited lecture to the
mother about the dire consequences of germs transmitted by
domestic animals. The mother listens politely because Aunt
Figleaf is the father's oldest sister. Henrietta observes from
the doorway, and tries to put together the puzzle. Obviously
Aunt Figleaf is a powerful person and that makes her right.
She certainly is upset about something-but what? Henrietta
concludes that her body is bad, running after the puppy
is bad, or that bodies and puppies are bad because they are
dirty. She finally concludes that feeling good and being
naked are dirty.
Later Mother explains why Aunt Figleaf was
so obsessed. Aunt Figleaf is very old, out of touch, brought up
in another time. These concepts are beyond Henrietta. She
extracts bits and pieces to form new theories. Aunt Figleaf is
old, so is Mommy; therefore Mommy thinks it's dirty too.
Aunt Figleaf has run out of touch because Henrietta is too
dirty to touch. Henrietta's theories make more sense to her
than her mother's reassurances. Henrietta is saved not by
her mother's speech, but by her parents' wholehearted enjoyment
of her nakedness.