Out of the frying pan into the fire! What is marriage but prostitution to one man instead of many? No different!
Interpretation
Marriage can feel like a confined situation, much like moving from one bad situation to another.
Angela Carter's quote compares marriage to a form of prostitution, suggesting that both involve a similar compromise of freedom and autonomy. The metaphor of moving 'out of the frying pan into the fire' highlights the idea that individuals may leave one undesirable situation only to step into another that could be equally or more detrimental, emphasizing the potential pitfalls of romantic commitments and societal expectations surrounding marriage.
In practice
In a discussion about modern relationships, one might quote Angela Carter to illustrate the complexities of marriage.
She stands and moves within the invisible pentacle of her own virginity. She is an unbroken egg: she is a sealed vessel; she has inside her a magic space the entrance to which is shut tight with a plug of membrane; she is a closed system; she does not know how to shiver.
Cities have sexes: London is a man, Paris a woman, and New York a well-adjusted transsexual.
Those are the voices of my brothers, darling; I love the company of wolves.
For most of human history, 'literature,' both fiction and poetry, has been narrated, not written β heard, not read. So fairy tales, folk tales, stories from the oral tradition, are all of them the most vital connection we have with the imaginations of the ordinary men and women whose labor created our world.
Iconic clothing has been secularized. . . . A guardsman in a dress uniform is ostensibly an icon of aggression; his coat is red as the blood he hopes to shed. Seen on a coat-hanger, with no man inside it, the uniform loses all its blustering significance and, to the innocent eye seduced by decorative colour and tactile braid, it is as abstract in symbolic information as a parasol to an Eskimo. It becomes simply magnificent.
To pin your hopes upon the future is to consign those hopes to a hypothesis, which is to say, a nothingness. Here and now is what we must contend with.
Is it not true that no two human beings understand anything whatsoever about each other, that those who consider themselves bosom friends may be utterly mistaken about their fellow and, failing to realize this sad truth throughout a lifetime, weep when they read in the newspapers about his death?
I have come to think that one of the most satisfying experiences I know β and also one of the most growth-promoting experiences for the other person β is just fully to appreciate this individual in the same way that I appreciate a sunset.
Since we all came from a women, got our name from a women, and our game from a women. I wonder why we take from women, why we rape our women, do we hate our women? I think its time we killed for our women, be real to our women, try to heal our women, cus if we dont we'll have a race of babies that will hate the ladies, who make the babies. And since a man can't make one he has no right to tell a women when and where to create one
A friend of mine always says, βWomen love me for the man Iβm not.β
Part of the reason people don't talk about their loneliness is that they feel they will be judged for it.
You see women struggling to keep it all together while a loved one is in jail. But we don't hear about them or their struggles in a way that resonates with others. Their stories are so compelling. It's as if they are in their own little world and no one else sees them.
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