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Harvey Weinstein.  (Photo by Araya Diaz/Getty Images for The Weinstein Company)
Harvey Weinstein. (Photo by Araya Diaz/Getty Images for The Weinstein Company)

Notes on Weinstein

Harvey’s crazy appetite

By Candace Bushnell on October 12, 2017

As a highly successful man, Harvey Weinstein was able to marry twice, each time to a beautiful woman. As a highly successful man, Harvey Weinstein was no doubt capable of having a couple of gorgeous and grateful mistresses who didn’t mind putting up with his sexual peccadillos and the fact that he was married. As a highly successful man, Harvey Weinstein probably had a few Russian hookers on the side — we’re not all puritans here, we know it happens.

Nevertheless, as a woman, I have to ask: Wasn’t a beautiful wife, three mistresses and maybe six Russian hookers enough?

Nope. Not for Harvey.

Back in the Nineties, Harvey reminded me of Augustus Goop from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. He was a rolling ball of outsized bad habits. He smoked cigarette after cigarette, appeared to consume drink after drink. He was spitting, he was swearing. You had the feeling you didn’t want to piss him off. He was hard to avoid: He was out every night, going someplace in his limo. It wasn’t that unusual to get a ride from him with several other people squished into the car.

He didn’t pay that much attention to me and I, meanwhile, didn’t pay that much attention to him.

Indeed, Harvey’s visage, unlike the symmetrical Hollywood beauties with whom he would later surround himself, wasn’t easy on the eyes. One smaller black shark eye sat noticeably lower than the other, larger one. His flesh was so pockmarked, it appeared as if chewed by a wild beast.

However, a lack of pulchritude never stops rich, powerful men from getting consensual sex, which is what happened when he met one of my girlfriends.

She was thrilled when Harvey arrived banging on her door at two in the morning. She thought it meant Harvey was crazy about her. All through dinner he’d only paid attention to her and told her how smart she was. She was very beautiful and it was very important to her that people thought she was smart as well. She fell under Harvey’s sway. She allowed that while he was “ugly” she found Harvey bizarrely “sexy.” I wrote all about her battles in Four Blondes and Trading Up, and the one thing that drew her toward him was that she honestly believed he wanted her to succeed. He was going to help her. He bought her her first Apple computer (she was broke, of course) and she was thrilled when he gave her $30,000 to write a screenplay.

Which gets back to the point of why Harvey’s behavior towards masses of women is so astoundingly egregious: Why harass all those women who don’t want to have sex with you when there are women who do, for whatever bizarre and personal and perhaps desperate reason.

Who are consenting?

Whom, one assumes, are occasionally saying, yes?

What the fuck more do you want, Harvey?

There’s a part of Harvey that’s like an old-fashioned movie mobster. Besides likely being an all occasion-abuser, Harvey’s other job was being an actual producer. This would have included a bevy of tasks, including being the defacto head of the crew. The teamsters. The men who move stuff around. The big tough men, all union.

The Union knows other unions, everybody knows everyone else, everyone’s “friends” and they’re all playing the same game.

Harvey was King Rat.

Fittingly, he’s now trying to run a gauntlet of networks and news reporters, paparazzi and publicity machines that he helped to create. Meanwhile, more and more women are coming out with their stories (and there are just so many and they are so disturbing) that King Rat may finally lose the one thing he wanted most: Accolades.

To be the biggest, the most successful at any cost. To be labeled “A Genius.” A Man of His Time and all that patriarchal hoopla.

And while in the past, King Rat would probably have been forgiven, we are living in a different time. We are tearing down false idols, we are hammering away at the statues of hypocrisy.

On the other hand, the whole Harvey thing does remind me a teeny bit of The Handmaid’s Tale. Remember how all the women condemn the rapist, and then they kill him! Phew. It’s a good thing Harvey doesn’t live in a dystopian universe!

Or maybe he does. In any case, Harvey, hasta la vista.

For now. Unfortunately, we all know there are many more Harveys out there. It won’t be long before another one comes to light. The only question is: Who’s next?

Candace Bushnell is the author of  Sex and the City, The Carrie Diaries, One Fifth Avenue, Lipstick Jungle, Trading Up, and Killing Monica. Follow her on Twitter here.


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