Hi Eric, If you don't mind, I'd like to add a thought or two regarding the Sex and the City finale where Carrie ended up with Big. As an undergrad, I studied English, French and comparative literature, and graduated with a degree in English literature.  I don't remember much (it being many, many years ago, and I not being a terribly zealous student), but one thing I do remember is the distinguishing factor between a comedy and a tragedy:  a comedy ends in a marriage (or, in modern times, in a couple getting together) and a tragedy ends in a death.  It's a standard formula employed throughout the canon of Western literature.  Any quick look through Shakespeare, for example, reveals this formula used consistently.  (At this point I'd like to disclaim being any kind of an expert:  I only have an undergraduate degree.) Interestingly, the bulk of historical literature is written about and/or from the viewpoint of the male characters.  More importantly, almost all literature before the post-moderns (and to some extent the moderns) was written by men.  So, men developed the formula that happiness (both for the man as well as the woman) ensues from the ultimate joining of marriage (the institution that permitted the spiritual and physical union of two people) and tragedy ensues from the ultimate separation of death. I actually rented all six seasons of Sex and the City on DVD and watched every episode this past fall.  I'd never seen it before and I wondered about its popularity.  I was disappointed with the show for many reasons, but one of the main reasons I found the show disappointing was the quality (or, in my opinion, the lack thereof) of its writing.  I found the writing to be episodic (as opposed to the development of insightful, complex characters; instead we watched characters who simply reacted to the situation faced in a given episode) and therefore shallow and formulaic. So, the point of all this is that, consistent with the long-established structures of Western literature, it is not surprising that the writers of S&TC employed yet another formula and made sure that each of the women were married or otherwise in a stable relationship by the end of the series.   It's just how a comedy ends in the Western world. My personal belief regarding marriage and death as metaphors for comedy and tragedy in literature employs no notion of the fulfillment of an individual through the possession and "ownership" of another, or the control of his or her sexuality (I believe those were concepts developed by English common law and the Church, but that's another discussion).  Instead, I believe that humans ache to be joined, an ache born out of our perceived separation from each other and the divine.  We pine to be joined to each other, and with something greater than ourselves, in a state of perfect grace, or heaven, or Nirvana, or choose-a-word.  For us as humans, the greatest tragedy is that of separation, and, as discussed above, the ultimate separate for those of us in human, corporeal form is that of death. Therefore, I view marriages in literature as metaphors of the deep yearning to be joined together, both by the man and the woman.  This is sex that doesn't objectify the other, but is the physical manifestation and expression of this deep yearning to be joined to something greater than the self.  I think S&TC tried to reach those heights, but repeatedly failed (and miserably so) in its attempts. For these reasons, I'm not sure that it's an accurate to characterize Carrie's relationship with Big as an archetypal exchange of sex for money (security).  I don't think it's that simple.  Big certainly offered Carrie no emotional security; he was coldly distant and withholding in his affection.  Big didn't necessarily offer Carrie a more supportive environment in which to express her sexual desire, either:  Goodness knows that Carrie and her friends experienced an enormous amount of sex with an unlimited number of lovers, sex which they had no difficulty enjoying heartily (unless they encountered a poor lover).  And Big didn't offer her financial security, either:  he wouldn't even give her a key to his apartment.  In contrast, with the John Corbett character, Carrie was offered both emotional and financial security, but she nonetheless rejected it and Corbett. Therefore, I believe that Carrie's relationship with Big (although not particularly well written/treated/handled) expressed more of her desire to join with something greater than it did a desire for security.  She called it a pursuit of love, and in fact eloquently stated what drove her in one episode:  "I'm looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can't-live-without-each-other love".  Unfortunately, the execution of the concept throughout the series fell short. Well, it's past my bedtime.  I'd love to say much, much more about love, sex and joining with the divine through human relationships.  And, I'd love to just have some great sex (what Capricorn doesn't?).  But that's a topic for another time. I enjoy your writing very much, and look forward to reading your thoughts each week. Fondly, Jenny D.