Elder Sex Romps in German Film
I hope Wolke 9 (Cloud 9) comes to a movie theater near me soon. It’s a German film about a wild sexual affair between Inge, a married woman in her sixties, and Karl, a 74-year-old man who hires Inge to tailor his trousers and then seduces her on the living room floor. Inge also has less passionate sex with her husband of 30 years in the film.
From the photos I’ve seen, the cast is quite ordinary looking — no face-lifts, liposuction, or dashing looks here — and I find this refreshing. Imagine, realistic, illicit sexual romping with wrinkles, sags, and cellulite! You can tell we’re not in Hollywood.
“Of course it was important to me to show that old people don’t just go on bus tours and boat cruises and buy warm blankets,” director Andreas Dresen told a German newspaper. No need for warm blankets in this film, from the sizzling reviewsI’ve read!
Read more about Wolke 9 here, and if you’ve seen it, please post a comment. Does the film have emotional depth?
9/12/08 update: Here’s another interesting review from ABC News in Australia. The reviewer says, in part,
The rare, liver spots-and-all depiction of elderly lovers in the first blush of infatuation has electrified German critics and drawn blanket coverage in the country’s culture pages.
What is sensational about the film is that it features on-top-of-the-covers sex between a sexagenarian grandmother and the 76-year-old object of her affection, as well as between the woman and her husband of 30 years.
Dreaming of Robert
Last night I dreamed of Robert for the first time since he died. I had wished to dream of him, to see him again.
In my dream, I was sleeping and woke to find his naked body — strong, no back fractures — beside me. I sidled into his embrace, inhaling his scent (which I always loved, and which was vividly real in the dream!). Oh, he’s just been away on a trip! I thought, trying to make sense of his beautiful body beside me.
Suddenly I started to sob to him, “I can’t bear being apart from you! Let’s stay together for the rest of our lives!””Yes,” he answered quietly.I looked into his dear face. He was gazing at me intently, lovingly.”But how did you get here?” I asked him, suddenly thinking that our house was a long way from the airport. “I have your car!”He looked at me puzzled and perhaps amused. Then he started to fade away and I woke up. 
(photos by Robert’s son, Mitch Rice)
Our Last Kiss
On August 2, 2001, I kissed Robert for the first time in the moonlight after our line dance class.
On August 2, 2008, I kissed him for the last time.
***
Those of you who read Better Than I Ever Expected: Straight Talk about Sex after Sixty know our love story, and know that Robert was living with leukemia and lymphoma. After the book was published, Robert had six months of chemotherapy , leaving his cancer in remission. We had two glorious years of health, vigor, and intense, joyful love after that. We felt we were the happiest, luckiest couple in the world.
Last April, Robert was diagnosed with a new blood cancer: multiple myeloma. It’s a debilitating, painful, and incurable cancer of the bone marrow, causing extreme bone pain and fragility. Within a month he was living with five spinal fractures and excruciating pain, despite the best efforts of his medical team and an array of powerful narcotics.
I didn’t write anything about our life during this time because Robert asked for privacy. If you’re a regular reader, surely you noticed that I became curiously silent for most of the past couple of months, and when I did post, it lacked the personal candor that you expect from me.
Ten days before his death, Robert entered into home hospice care, and the marvelous hospice team was able to bring him relief from the pain. He then wavered between sleeping and waking, sometimes marvelously lucid and rational, often only partially conscious, and occasionally uttering beautiful messages from the world he was visiting. Here are some of the things he told me as he floated in and out of lucidity, and I’ll treasure
them always:
• “Do you remember the time we laughed so hard that we shook the feathers off our caps?”
• “We did have fun together, didn’t we? We did have fun.”
• “Wasn’t it wonderful when we walked in the water in every state, or almost every state?”
• “It was just yesterday that we walked and walked, and I knew the name of every flower.”
• “I came by here hoping to see you.”
***
Yes, I’m still committed to this work I do as an activist for elder sexuality, and don’t worry, I’ll have my voice back soon. My work was almost as important to Robert as it is to me, and he made me promise I’d keep my torch burning. He was a private person, and sometimes I embarrassed him with my candor, but he believed I was doing the right thing talking out loud about this hush-hush topic, and he supported me all the way.
I welcome your comments here and your private emails to me. I know I have many readers who have visited without commenting. If my work here has made a difference to you, if you learned something useful or were moved by my book, I hope you’ll honor me with your words. I could use them now.
Warmly,
Joan
How has your idea changed of what sex is?
I was interviewed by Audacia Ray for her Naked City column for the Village Voice online. Audacia asked me, “How has your idea of what ‘sex’ is changed over your lifetime?”
In my teens and early twenties, I was trying to shed the restrictions I had been taught by family and society about sex being bad until a wedding band somehow transformed it, so sex was rebellion. Although I willingly shed my virginity at 17, I didn’t have an orgasm until two years later. Being a child of the 1950’s, I didn’t even know what/where my clitoris was or what made it work, until a more experienced college boy showed me. I haven’t stopped enjoying it since!
From my mid-twenties to early-thirties, sex was both an expression of love and an exploration of what turned me on. I was in two committed relationships (serially) during that time, and I loved the high and the bonding of sex.
In my mid-thirties and through my forties, sex was the Big O: orgasm, as frequently as possible. I was in a love relationship for part of that time which was sometimes exclusive and sometimes open, and after that broke up, I went a bit crazy with the excitement of multiple partners. This was my real coming of age, sexually. I discovered the glory of powerful orgasms, whether alone or with a partner (or series of partners), filling my drawers with vibrators and my datebook with eager men.
During all this time, my hormonal, biological urge was propelling my sex drive. After menopause, all this shifted.
I was a post-menopausal single woman, needing lubricant, taking longer to get aroused and reach orgasm, and as eager as I was to keep my sex life going, often I felt invisible to potential partners. I still felt youthful and vibrant in my mind (still do, at 64!), but my face started showing my age, and boom, men were no longer interested. It was amazing to me, really.
Then at age 57, I fell in love with Robert, who was then 64. Our love affair was the reason I wrote my book, Better Than I Ever Expected: Straight Talk about Sex After Sixty. My sex drive was no longer hormonally driven. Rather, it was driving by love, the yearning to bond deeply, and a deep commitment to my lover’s pleasure as much as (sometimes more than) my own. We married when I was 62, he 69. Ours has been the great love of both our lives. It has also been the best sex, because joining together is a culmination of everything we’ve experienced in our lives as well as our deep love for each other. It’s spiritual as well as physical.
How would YOU answer the question, “How has your idea of what ‘sex’ is changed over your lifetime?”
For the rest of the interview, please click here.