In England in the early eighteenth century, the lord chief justice called sex with another man’s wife “the highest invasion of property” (because women were property) and said that since “jealousy is the rage of man”, the violent killing of someone caught in the act of committing adultery with one’s wife should not count as murder.
It is normally accepted that one may have as many friends as one cares to have, and there is no expectation that one will live with one’s friends or have children. If we do start experiencing very powerful feelings of care or desire for a friend, we are pressured to interpret this as falling in romantic love.
If I had to whittle this book down to one message, it would be a simple one: think about love for yourself.
These days, if you have two temporary relationships sequentially, you are normal. If you have two permanent relationships simultaneously, you are “a degenerate herpes-infested whore.” (this wording is from a message sent to the author by a stranger)
However, de Beauvoir includes one note of optimism: she says that one day, when women and men can approach each other as equals, love will become a source of life (rather than mortal perils).
Trying to state the nature of romantic love with precision is like trying to nail some Jell-O to a wall made of Jell-O, using a Jell-O nail.