Myra-Breckinridge-Gore-Vidal

if life is to be superb. For instance, I had always believedthat between the operation, on the one hand, and the rapeof someone like Rusty on the other, I would becomeWoman Triumphant, exercising total power over men asmen once exerted that same power over Myron and still doover the usual woman. But the very literalness of my victorydeprived me of the anticipated glory. To my astonishment, Ihave now lost all interest in men. I have simply gone pastthem, as if I were a new creation, a mutant diverging fromoriginal stock to become something quite unlike its formerself or any self known to the race. All that I want now in theway of human power is to make Mary-Ann love me so that Imight continue to love her--even without possessing her--tothe end of my days. Imagine my consternation when, onceagain, she said what she truly felt (and what I have known allalong but refused to let myself admit even to myself): "If youwere only a man, Myra, I would love you so!" Of course theshock of the anticipated is always more intense than that ofthe unexpected. I let her go, as though her cool body hadturned suddenly to flame. "Love is not always a matter ofsex," I said weakly. "Oh, I know. And I do love you, as youare. I even like it when you touch me, up to a point," sheadded judiciously, "but it's really only with a boy I can letmyself go. That's the way I am." "Rusty?" She shut her eyes,frowning with recollected pain. "No. That's finished. Butsomeone like him." She sighed, "And there aren't many.""Not many!" I was tactless, and harsh. "The garages ofAmerica are crowded with Rustys." She shook her head."No. He is special. Most boys grab. He doesn't. He's so