In this chapter, we’ll try to consider only the statements that can’t be disproved, by either documents or common logic. As an experiment, we'll be taking Geimer's words for granted.We’ll see where it brings us.
Remember:
it’s only what she said herself.
And keep
this important point in mind: nothing she said could have been used against her
if there ever had been a rape. A rape victim can’t be blamed for the rape,
whatever her previous behavior (see this chapter). No. We are going to show you, as Geimer did
herself in her book, that there never
was any rape, because her behavior was consistent throughout.
So, first
we learn that she accepted the offer to be photographed and was fascinated by
the pictures of other girls, including Kinski, Polanski showed to her and
Susan. So far so good. Then that first photo shoot, on the hill.
When
he asked me to take my top off altogether, I felt I had to rise to the challenge.
… This was my break.
…Then
I got my blouse back on as quickly as I could. (…) The next thing I knew, I was
topless again.
The last
sentence is regrettably vague. Did he took it off her by force, or did she just
stripped absent-mindedly without noticing it? Something is insinuated here, but
the only bare fact is that she took off her shirt more than once, without
anything resembling coercion.
A
dirt biker zipped by, and Roman looked from the biker to me. “Is that bothering
you?” he asked. “No,” I said. I was a professional. Besides, breasts are
beautiful; that’s what The Joy of Sex
said, and I thought so.
This part
agrees completely with Polanski’s memoirs. He supposed she wouldn’t want to be
seen half-naked by strangers, but she reassured him. Summing up: she strips
without any objections, and has no problem flashing her breasts to whoever
passes by.
Now for the
next session, the fatal one.
Back
in the car, we talked a little.
“Do
you have a boyfriend?” he asked.
I
looked out the window. “Yes,” I said.
That
was a lie. I had had a boyfriend,
sort of. He had just broken up with me. Steve was my first serious boyfriend;
we had dated for a few months.
…“Have
you ever had sex?”
That
was an odd question. I replied yes. It was true, and I did not want him to
think of me as a child.
Posing
topless, displaying no problems with showing her breasts to strangers, and now
confirming her sexual experience; the reason given is “did not want him to
think of me as a child”; although he didn’t think of her as one – nobody did,
as we know from the documents, where every single witness emphasizes heroutstanding maturity – she still makes additional
conscious efforts to seem older and
more experienced.
“How
many times?”
“Twice,”
I said. That too was a lie. There had been one time. It hadn’t been
particularly memorable; for me, at thirteen, it had been more like – well, one
of those things you check off your to-do list.
Well, Polanski
gives a different version… and Dalton insists that she had had “partners”, in
the plural, but I have no documents about those others yet, so it’s only Dalton’s
word against hers, a lawyer’s against a liar’s… sorry, sorry, I’ll keep my doubts
to myself till later! Even though we remember than in an interview she says
that she had been sexually active “for a long time”, let it be as she says. Let
it be once; let it be that she said “twice”. But why, why did she?
I
didn’t want to appear naïve. If you tell someone you’ve had sex only once, you
sound prudish and ridiculous. Twice was so much better.
So much
better for what? For a photo shoot?
While her mother insists she was sure he wanted to photograph “children”? Why
would one lie this way about one’s sexual experience when alone with a man? Why
would one answer this question at all? Why wouldn’t one lie the other way,
saying ‘you crazy, I’m thirteen!’ No, twice was much better.
The
conversation turned to other things (…)I told him about a Playboy cover I’d seen. [girl in a wetsuit, “unzipped very low”]
(…) See, if he knew I had seen Playboy
before, he’d understand that I was quite mature.
Same
question. Why, why? The “other things” the conversation turned to after they’d
discussed her sex life is now Playboy.
What she is saying is she was falling over herself to appear even more mature
and experienced than she was.
Then they are at Nicholson’s, she drinks
champagne and poses.
I’m
perched on the kitchen counter, licking an ice cube, my tongue sticking out (…)
I
can be a sex kitten like the girls in Cosmo
too.
…He
suggests I take my blouse off. Ummm, okay.
She also
drinks champagne from his glass (as per her GJ testimony), but forgets to
mention it now.
He
asks me, “Is this a Quaalude?” and I say, “Yes.”
…He
asks me if I’ve ever had one. I say I have. This is a lie. But I think, If I say
I have, then I’m someone who knows what she’s saying no to. I’ve tried them,
don’t like them – that’s cool, right?
To the GJ
she will too say that she’d taken them before. But in this chapter we believe
what’s in the book, not what’s under oath. And the reason she gives for saying
“yes” is all the more preposterous because she takes that part of the pill immediately after this, explaining it,
as we remember, by “how could I say no?”, just as I quote it, in
italics.
“Let’s
take some photos in the Jacuzzi,” Roman says.
Whatever!
That sounds fine to me.
…He
asks me to get in the Jacuzzi and I’m in just my panties and he says, “You
should take your panties off.”
Oh
no. But well, okay, fine. There must be a reason. The panties are dark, kind of
rust-colored, maybe they’ll show through the water and mess up the shot.
But
then again, I want to be Marilyn Monroe. What would she do? She’d be beautiful
and free in the bubbles. So let’s climb that hill, and who cares about the
dirt-biker guy, and you want my shirt? Here, and I had sex twice, hasn’t
everybody, so yeah, champagne and ‘lude, that’s how it’s done, take my panties,
too.
I
get in. I’ve got nothing on.
OK. Let’s
forget that in an interview she said that she got there in her underwear – we
know that she always says what seems
appropriate at the moment. Let’s sum up one more time.
Posing
topless, displaying no problems with showing her breasts to strangers, talking
about her sexual experience and Playboy photos, drinking champagne and
confessing to being acquainted with the Quaaludes, playing with her tongue,
being a “sex kitten”, taking off her panties without a word of objection,
falling over herself to appear as mature, experienced and sophisticated as
possible… All that according to herself.
And now
let’s stop and remember the important point we started this chapter with.
All of the above would have mattered nothing –
just nothing! – if after this she had been actually raped. If Polanski had
suddenly assaulted her and, in spite of her resistance and pleas, had forcibly
had sex with her, it wouldn’t have mattered shit
whether or not she had behaved as if having sex with him was everything she’d
ever dreamed of. Rape is rape, and no behavior of the victim justifies it.
But the
point is that everything went on just like it started! She played this part
till the end, never letting him know that something was (always assuming it was) unwelcome! Let’s read on.
He
takes off his tan pants and sweater. Then he removes his briefs. I look away,
and I don’t look back up until I am sure he is in the water. I really don’t
want to see anything. If I don’t see, I won’t remember.
In an
interview she said she actually didn’t
remember, and thought he was in his underwear. Silver must have helped with
this bit again.
“Come
here, I want you to feel something,” he says.
I
knew this wasn’t right. But I don’t know what to do, so I tiptoe over.
She never "knows what to do", so she just does everything he suggests. She never mentions
he ordered her about or insisted that she do something. She also says “I never felt in
any physical danger” and that she knew he wasn’t going to hurt her.
Why this obedience? We know that Polanski denies that he ever was in the tub;
we’ll disregard his statement and just look at the Jacuzzi photos instead, as an
illustration of the young lady’s curios obedience. None of these are present in
the book, of course.
He pulls me a little
closer by the waist and helps hold me up a little and moves me above one of the
jets so I can feel the bubbles tickling up between my legs.
“You
see? Doesn’t that feel good?”
There’s
nothing good about it, but I know what he’s getting at.
“Uh,
yeah,” I say. Why don’t I say, “No”? Why don’t I say, “Don’t touch me”?
Why indeed? After behaving like we’ve already
seen, she also answers in the affirmative to the question whether an erotic experience
feels good. She never says “no”, or “don’t touch me”. Instead, she behaves like
she is totally happy to go on – or would be, if not for an asthma fit.
That’s the
cunning part. Polanski in his book wonders why she invented asthma. I have to
say he is too naive to understand. Well, let’s see: she invents asthma and gets
out of the tub; then goes to swim in the pool, totally naked, and only after
this puts on her underwear.
“How
is your asthma?” he asks gently. His voice is soft, wheedling.
“I
need to go home and take my medicine,” I say.(…)
He
says offhandedly “Yeah, I’ll take you home soon.”
Then
he tells me to go into the other room and lie down. “No, I have to go home,” I say,
but he takes me by the shoulders and walks me to the bedroom, and sits me on a
large red velvet couch. He asks if I’m okay. “No, I am not okay,” I say. “I
better go home now.”
He
assures me I’ll get better.
Now you see
the point? Forget for a moment that in the testimony he didn't "take" her "by the shoulders" and "walked" her to the "bedroom", but she just "went there and lied down", we're not catching her on lies in this chapter. Look once again: she has posed topless and walked about naked, she talked about her
sex life, she pulled a “sex kitten” and blew him kisses in the bathtub, she
pretended to be perfectly grown up and sophisticated, she said she liked the
erotic experience in the bathtub… and the
only objection she ever utters to anything is that imaginary asthma! She
never says “I don’t like you”, “don’t touch me”, “don’t kiss me”, she never
says “let me alone” – she only says she is feeling unwell, and he understands
it the way all the context has lead him to: that she should be made better the
way he himself knows best. That’s why the only
thing she’s been consistent throughout, in all her accounts, is that at some
point she said “no”: she actually said it, but not as in “no, I don’t want to
have sex with you”. It was “no, I am feeling unwell because of my asthma”. He
genuinely believed her, and genuinely thought that was the only reason of her
wanting to go home – which she soon stopped repeating, by the way.
What if she
had actually said “leave me alone, I don’t want you”? Why, obviously: he would
have left her alone. He never, not for a
single moment, forced her to do anything she didn’t [appear to] want to. Here’s
a bit from her testimony to prove it:
He goes, "Doesn't it feel better down
here?" And he was like holding me up because it is almost over my head.
And I went, "Yeah, but I better get out." So I got out.
She got out
the moment she wanted to and the moment she said she would. All the time she was free to do as she
wanted.
He’s
kissing my face and feeling my breasts and he asks me again if I like it, does
it feel good. I say nothing, but he’s a guy who makes movies, so I imagine he’s
filling in the dialogue for himself.
That’s a
funny take on how a filmmaker’s mind works, but anyway, she never says, “No, I
don’t like it, get off me.”
He
asks if it feels good, which it does – and that, in itself, is awful. I don’t
want this, my mind recoils, but my body is betraying me.
Why feeling
good is “in itself awful” is an interesting question, because it contradicts
everything she said before about sex (how erotic experience was considered generally positive etc)i; probably added by Newman. The remaining
part shows that she didn’t only pretend, but actually liked it: how else would
you interpret “my body is betraying me”?
I
don’t fight. Why fight?
I
made the decision to just let him do it, how bad can it be, it’s just sex. He
doesn’t want to hurt me. (…) We are both playing our parts.
And on that
note, we’ll end this chapter. It sums up everything. She made the decision to
let him do it. She behaved, throughout, from the first session on the hill, the
way he couldn’t but believe that she felt like having sex with him. She never
said “No” that could be interpreted as “No, I don’t want”. She did everything without a slightest objection. She
never was forced or coerced (as the probation department concluded, too). She
played her part.
She
proceeds to tell the story of how she had wonderful sex and lead life full of
drugs and sex and booze immediately after this, that is, from age 14 on.
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