Anyone who has paid attention to the John Edwards' infidelity scandal might be feeling a little nauseous at the hypocrisy, sanctimoniousness, and all-round sleaziness displayed by the media, the candidate, and his inamorata. Contrast this with the reckless abandonment (in all senses of the term) when it comes to les affaires de coeur displayed by the current French president, Nicolas Sarkozy, his first wife and her first husband, his second wife and her first and now third husband, and Monsieur le President's third wife, the chanteuse-cum-châtelaine Carla Bruni, and all of the above, plus Mick Jagger, Eric Clapton, and who knows who else?

For la comédie humaine and succès des scandales undertaken and experienced by these figures, whose bedhopping and impetuosity come straight from a Feydeau farce, you can read an article perfectly located in Vanity Fair. By contrast, Edwards' betrayal seems—perhaps accurately—small and petty, unimaginative and cheap. What these belles de jour and their bourgeois Casanovas are pointing out with relish is simple: If you are going to sleep with someone else, be bold and passionate and have fun. And, if you are the one betrayed, then pay it forward. In the end, everyone will have the same amount of pleasure and pain—and, well, c'est la vie.