Pop Goes the Arnold ... Errr, Weasel

Memory. It is the record of the present for the past. It is the projection to the future of what can be when that which will be is based on what has been.

Collective memory is what we conceive as history, her story, our story. For as much as we live together in the most intimate ways, there is a separate life of couples which continues to provide perspective. We may begin to know how to finish each other’s sentences over time; we still do not know how to start those same sentences. Sometimes what we feel of each other is routine; then there are sudden surprises and astonishments.

Which leads us to discuss the rather pedestrian yet intriguing story of infidelity, deceit, duplicity and pain of the discovery that the Arnold has a child as part of a extra-marital affair with a now former household employee. The other woman remained employed with the Schwarzeneggers for ten years more to be able to get her retirement. His wife, the dishonored faithful wife, mother of four children, had no idea of this situation.

The sage wrote “Oh what a tangled web we weave, When first we practice to deceive.” As outsiders we can only imagine how each day passed by while the Schwarzeneggers lived through their usual and predictable chats about the kids, duties as California’s first couple, preparations for holidays and vacations and the myriad of other similar discussions they had over ten-plus years.

Maria is not the first woman to discover infidelity. She is the latest one of a prototype begun so long ago we have no particular individual memory of it. Yes, there are many stories in history. The one that comes to mind is that of David, the psalmist and King of Israel and his mistress, Jezebel. So archetypal is that story the use of the word Jezebel describes a woman who uses her allure to draw an otherwise strong and virtuous man to his doom. She is the woman who steals away the man from the faithful, long-suffering wife.

Given Arnold’s rep, that of a macho womanizer in his youth, ought one to be happy that (theoretically) he had only one such liaison and that he did the right thing providing for the other woman and his ‘love’ child? Does that diminish the hurt and pain that Maria is going through? Does it explain the confusion and anger his children must be feeling? How does he explain to them and to others that he continued to live with the other woman in the same household? Does any betrayal take a more sordid form?

In all honesty, as a person and an actor, I am a big fan of Arnold’s. I don’t like his politics, but I think he tried his best for the state of California. Now he has gone from someone many people wanted to have a special law passed to allow him to run for president since he is not a natural born citizen, to one almost despised.

But now, he has fallen like an old Grecian ruin. The outline of greatness remains in the midst of the destroyed statue of the Greek god of that distant ancient civilization. He becomes one of the fallen; one of the mortal, tempted, stereotyped Hollywood charlatans we have tripped over again and again. Yet, the outline of his former image as a man different from others, a man perhaps with a past though mature and settled into the family lifestyle of the rich and famous still hovers about. Somehow many want to see that and not the human being underneath: one fallible in the ways of all humans.

Does this new fact forever degrade the memory of the tough rogue, the classy spy, the beloved kindergarten teacher, protector of those in need he portrayed on film? Or the gregarious and macho ‘guy,' and leader of the state of California? There is an aspect of memory which allows us to accept that one person can be different and yet be remembered as his better self. He can be forgiven over time by us, the not so innocent bystanders. How he fares with those he needs forgiveness from the most is in their hands.

To start, we need to clear away the pieces of the fallen plaster statue that is the present status of the Arnold.

Steve Iannaccone