The art of seduction: or when to call a rake a rake

0 Comments | Sunday Herald, The, Oct 21, 2001 | by Charlene Sweeney

THE rake is perhaps the most dangerous. The charmer the biggest letdown. And as for the coquette - prepare for a lifetime of carrot- and-donkey enthralment.

According to American author Robert Greene, there are 10 different types of seducer. Each is described in his new book, The Art Of Seduction, and each preys on his/her "victims" in a different way. The rake describes the kind of cad who, when he desires a woman, "will go to the ends of the earth for her". Then just when she thinks she's got him - wham, he is "disloyal, dishonest and amoral". Of course, as any female will attest, that only adds to his appeal. Warren Beatty is living proof.

The charmer, on the other hand, is sweetness and light itself, someone who will "feel your pain". This kind of seduction, however, is more mental than physical (the head-f*** is the best f*** you'll get in this relationship). Soothing and understanding, they'll make you feel the most special and wanted person in the world. The simpering but calculating charm of Becky Sharp in William Thackeray's Vanity Fair enchants not only her husband Rawdon Crawley and his family, but the Sedley and Osbourne families too.

Blowing hot and cold meanwhile is the speciality of the coquette, who constantly promises reward - whether physical pleasure, happiness, fame by association or power - but never delivers. It's a ruse guaranteed to keep lovers forever hanging on, waiting, waiting, waiting. Perhaps supermodel Giselle Bundchen, she of the honey- coloured hair and skin, is using this ploy with Leonardo di Caprio. Di Caprio, once well known for his frequent conquests, can't seem to get enough of the Brazilian beauty even though she denies that anything as permanent as marriage is on the cards.

And what of the other seven possible types of seducer that Greene identifies? One applies to females only - the siren; one to men only - the rake; and the rest - the ideal lover, dandy, natural, charismatic, star - are unisex. As is the anti-seducer, someone who is so insecure and self-absorbed they do not understand the psychology of others, thus don't know how to focus attention on anyone other than themselves. ("Root out anti-seductive qualities in yourself, and recognise them in others," writes Greene in a most threatening manner. "There is no pleasure or profit in dealing with the anti-seducer.") To ensnare your prey, The Art Of Seduction recommends readers decide which category they resemble most, play up the successful characteristics of that type and then follow the simple steps described. These include "creating temptation" and "disarming through strategic weakness and vulnerability". Forget romantic notions of rose petals, flickering candlelight, aphrodisiac food or tenderly-poured wine: the tactics of the wicked Valmont in Les Liaisons Dangereuses, ruthless as they may be, are the ones that guarantee results.

Or are they? "It's not as emotionless as that," drawls Greene from his home in Los Angeles. "If you are cold in your seduction it will register to others and you'll be slimy and manipulative and mechanical. The seducer has charisma because they have intense excitement contained inside them. And you have to choose the right victim, someone who makes you feel emotional." The only time seduction doesn't involve warmth and feeling, says Greene, is when it is performed by a coquette. "Like Andy Warhol. He was narcissistic and cold. But it was a strange coldness, it made people want to come to him and get them to like them."

In fact, explains Greene, the best way to seduce someone is to fall in love with them. "There's a common misconception that a seducer is after sex, but it's a psychological thing." There is manipulation involved, he admits, but that's what creates tension - and tension is what makes the process so exciting and enjoyable for both parties.

In the book Greene names Byron and Bill Clinton as two of the greatest ever rakes: these men, he writes, "make women want to reform them". But in her affair with the former president, didn't Monica Lewinsky actually do the enticing? Greene disagrees. "It might have looked like that," he says, half-sniggering, "but there's something in him that draws people to him so I think he seduced her."

Disappointed that Monica didn't really have the upper hand, I ask him - in my most flirtatious tones - about Madonna. "Ah, yes," he concedes matter-of-factly (could Greene be a coquette?) "The dandy - a man or a woman who has a slight touch of the other gender, although not too strong or else it becomes something else. Dandies love to use costume, they're outrageous, they're sexy. We love them because we're not like that; they excite us."

Feeling relieved that women - and not just "sirens" like Marilyn Monroe - can indeed be arch seducers too, even if I have not managed to be one on this occasion, we take to discussing the balance of power in relationships. Surely, two seducers can't work? Wrong again. "When you're looking for someone to seduce, you choose someone who excites you. So they've already seduced you," he says. "It's a back- and-forth process. The worst case scenario is when one person is doing everything and the other is weak and passive."