The more the marrier

SUNDAY INDEPENDENT, 22 APRIL 2001

I AM NOT IN the habit of judging other people’s lifestyles. Well, actually I am, but I wasn’t about to admit it in the very first sentence. I am informed that some people are in the habit of reading only the first sentence of each article in the newspaper, and I want to leave them with a good impression of me. Although, now that I come to think of it, I don’t really give two hoots (which in owl currency is the equivalent of one human damn) for the opinion of the kind of individual who would only read the first sentence of this column. If I could take that sentence back I would, but what’s done is done, I suppose.

So yes, actually, I am in the habit of judging other people’s lifestyles, but of all the lifestyles I have had cause to tut over, it is Alex Joseph who gets the most unequivocal thumbs-down. Who is Alex Joseph? You may well ask. Alex Joseph was a featured guest on The Jerry Springer Show (DStv, Series Channel, daily, 10pm). Unusually, Jerry ventured out of the studio to visit Alex on his ranch. It was a dusty sort of a ranch, without much by way of grass or crops or even livestock, but Alex was happy. Alex purred and preened like a cat that has managed to get its paws on some other cat’s saucer of milk. But there the comparison ended. Despite a small and scrubby beard, Alex is not as furry as a cat, and whereas a cat has nine lives, Alex Joseph has eight wives.

To have one wife, you might say, is good fortune. (You also might not say it, especially if you have one.) To have two wives is careless. To have six and seven and eight wives is to be interviewed by Jerry Springer, and when you’re being interviewed by Jerry Springer, you must have some inkling that somewhere on life’s bendy byways you’ve taken the wrong turn.

Mind you, the extended immediate family of Alex Joseph was a good deal more harmonious than most of Jerry’s guests. They huddled together in the yard and beamed for a group photograph, like a box-framed collection of sun-faded Tretchikoffs.

Alex told us that he and his wives have produced 25 children and 733 grandchildren. Well, he may not actually have said 733, but after a certain point what difference does it make? Alex’s ranch is located outside Big Water, Utah, which would encourage a lesser and cheaper columnist to make a series of leering jokes involving, you know, bigness and water. But Big Water, Utah is beyond a joke. Big Water, Utah is one of the ugliest places I have ever seen. There is nothing there except wives. We took a tour of the compound. “All the wives have their own houses,” said Sarah, the chief wife, “except for some wives, who share.”

The houses were decorated with home-made cushions and bean bags and quilted things. On the wall of each house was an embroidered motto: “The more, the marrier”. No, I just made that last bit up.

Why would Alex do such a thing?

“To take a wife is a responsibility,” said Alex, squinting philosophically into the dust, “and the bigger the man, the more responsibility he bears.”

Marrying eight women at the same time struck me as a foolhardy way of proving your manhood. On the whole, I think I prefer the Xhosa tradition, where all they do is cut off a piece of your penis.

Alex has started his own church, and in a sense his own congregation. It is called “The Church of Jesus Christ of the Solemn Assembly”. It’s almost as if he wants to be laughed at. We had dinner with the family. Now that was a solemn assembly. “The problem with the world today,” said Alex as he buttered both sides of his bread, “is that women get married when they’re 20 and change their minds when they’re 30. They change men like diapers.” Which made you fear a little for the personal hygiene of the little ’uns. They must be looking forward to turning 10, so they can change those diapers already.

Alex’s plan to eliminate the problem of the changeability of women involved marrying his most recent wife when she was 15 and he was 53. She had been signed over as his bride when she was nine years old. The only thing Alex’s wives change like diapers is their diapers.

And yet they all seemed content enough. Whatever the disadvantages of plural marriages – I can imagine, for instance, that one would be reluctant to take the family on a cruise ship with a “women and children first” policy – Alex wasn’t complaining and the ladies weren’t contemplating a change. And who am I to criticise? I can scarcely get a date on a Saturday night, and this nutter in Utah lands eight uncomplaining wives. He should be a hero to us all. But he isn’t.