“The Voyeur’s Motel”

It’s an easy read and it’s fantastic.

Ignore the controversy, within its pages Mr. Talese ponders the unreliability of his voyeur narrator. Hell, even if the whole thing were made up, and it’s not, Gay visited the motel and saw the viewing posts and looked in on the action himself, the insights would be intriguing and illuminating.

Especially the ones about people on vacation.

Gerald Foos, the proprietor, the voyeur, checks couples into the motel who are lovey-dovey, dignified and nice. And then they retire to their rooms and don’t stop arguing. One complains not enough sights were seen, the other stares blankly at the television set, and Foos muses on the backstory of their lives.

We have no idea what’s really happening.

I have no idea what’s really happening with you. Never mind your fantasies, but your everyday activities. I assumed everybody sat on the toilet the same way, but not according to Foos. Some people sit backwards!

And he finds lesbians make the best lovers, it’s not just wham, bam, thank you ma’am, they care about each other and take time and I’m always worried about satisfying my female partner, I have no idea what she’s feeling and what she wants, and despite protestations and advice, directions and advisements, there’s still an incredible gulf between us.

People, they’re all that matter. Even though our puritanical society keeps score via money and believes that’s all that really counts. If you look good and you’re rich, you’ve got it made. But do you?

And how repressed are you? How uptight? Some guests parade around nude, keep the bathroom door open, others are never seen naked and insist on sex in the dark.

But less interesting than the behaviors is the interactions. How do we interact? Some seem so suave and debonair, are they confident or just covering up? And is it best to reveal your warts or hold them back?

And if you’re looking for normal, it doesn’t exist.

I wasn’t on the Gay Talese train. I read “Honor Thy Father” back in the seventies, during an interlude when mononucleosis left me with so much free time. It didn’t evidence any zest! This was the era of “The Godfather,” I was expecting Mafiosi to be anything but boring.

But maybe that was Talese’s point.

And the writing here is heavily observed. As in there’s more description of the surroundings than necessary, because that’s Talese’s style, he takes copious notes. To the point where emotion is absent, but then you’re just left with bodies and actions and…

We all have a secret life. All of us have urges and desires, behaviors and aberrations. And we’re yearning to share them, but are usually too inhibited to do so.

Then again, some of the couples Foos observes are quite happy. Sex is good, he posits they’re winners.

But then there’s the nurse who drains the doctor in the motel and then goes home to place these same lips on her husband, as her kids swirl around them. Does he know? Does he want to know? Are they sexually mismatched? Will they stay together?

And then there’s the fiftysomething widow who’s paying for sex, but the ruse is she’s helping the gigolo with his bills. She’s overweight and depressed and are such individuals unable to meet people the natural way or is Foos just judging them. Are they too unattractive and too shy to connect in regular life or…

I don’t know.

And I don’t expect you to tell me.

And I don’t expect you to read this book either. Because then you’d have to admit you’re a sexual deviant.

Not really. You’d just be really interested in people. If it’s just sex you’re looking for, Google is your friend, you’ll get better visuals and better descriptions than you’d ever find in this book.

But you wouldn’t get the insight into humanity.

Gerald Foos is a voyeur. He bought a motel to spy on people. He broke not only taboos, but the law.

Yet his documentation of his experiences is utterly riveting.

This is real life folks.

And it’s only real life that matters.

“You can never really determine during their appearances in public that their private life is full of hell and unhappiness. I have pondered why it is absolutely mandatory for people to guard with all secrecy and never let it be known that their personal lives are unhappy and deplorable.”