Beauty and the Beast

Such myths, so pervasive, so all consuming,

may contain elements of the imaginary,

but are, as surely, based upon truths

whose origins are ancient,

and whose iterations

have held the attention

of numerous peoples.

Ubiquitous in time and place

we have been enthralled by their power,

absorbed by the intensity

of the feelings they have generated.

Portions have been forgotten, repressed,

but like a dream, they bubble

insensibly to the surface.


There is no doubt, for instance, that one Beauty,

of whom we speak,

has been aware of the dangers inherent

in a relationship with the Beast.

It had, in fact, in no uncertain terms,

been delineated, clearly, concisely,

in the notepad that she carries in her purse

for such cerebrations;

and has analyzed

not merely her own propensities,

but all possible complications

and drawbacks of such a union.

For example: the difficulties of concupiscence,

some question as to the compatibility

of genitalia, of congruency,

and juxtaposition.

She had even considered

the possibility of the need for some tetanus toxoid

in case she was scratched

by his remarkable claws, or

her body ripped, in the heat

of passion, by the sharp



projecting canines that he sported.

What struck her most forcefully,

although only later, in retrospect,

was the ease with which they

got past the formalities, and the foreplay;

and if, fortuitously,

he were transformed in her mind

into something a little less awful,

could that not have been the result

of some clandestine appetite?

some unexpressed need to demonstrate a sense of order

amongst the perturbations of chaos?

a realization that fulfillment

of a satisfactory nature

can be achieved

definitively, undeniably,

and simply, solely, by justification of the morality of a story?

When the time came, all

was of course perfect.

She dreamed her prince;

He licked blood from his fingers.