The Beast

Disney Princes Deconstructed

When I'm in a philosophical mood, a positive, pink hued one, as opposed to a semi-suicidal one filled with existentialist angst and a sense of arrrrghness, my life is slipping away, I think of myself as Cinderella's slipper.
Traveling from foot to foot hoping that I will find the perfect fit in the next house I visit. Much like the story, my match seems to be an unlikely candidate, hidden away from me by unfortunate circumstances and villainous family members. I've been told, and shown time and again, that this is a man's world, and to be a clever woman in it is a self defeating strategy at best. My contrary, obstinate nature however, insists that it's men, not us, who have a harder time of it (especially if you don't do something silly like show genuine emotion in their presence).

All an average looking female needs to do to command attention is walk into a room, make eye contact with the nearest male specimen, and smile. Men feel that they need to be wealthy, smooth talking, tall, ripped and muscular... Or just wealthy, to be deserving of female attention. It's pressure of the worst kind to impress, outshine, and outlive all the other alphas out there; sort of like being stuck in a Survivor's episode that goes on as long as men are on the reproductive cycle of their life, a phase stretched out to infinity nowadays thanks to the blessed viagra.

Disney cartoons underpin all our deepest desires and dreams, deny it all you want, but unless you were born before the 1950's, or under a rock somewhere in the forgotten countries, you are not an exception. Feminists have been droning on for years that teaching young girls that some "prince" is their salvation is a stupid, stupid idea but this picture crystallizes how equally horrific the message is on the flip side. Each little girl has her secret Disney crush, a favorite among the ever perfect ever romantic charade of chivalry that is a Disney prince. Mine, as the title so subtly suggests, is Gaston's nemesis, Belle's loverman, the Beast (pre-saccharine transformation naturellement). Asides from the gorgeous enchanted chateau, and the buff bod, the Beast is the most human of the Disney man-childs. Moody, abrasive, impossible to love unless you force yourself to look deep, deep, deep within. Add music, flying cutlery and fabulous couture dresses... Sigh... the Beast is just so darn attractive. And that prone to violence thing, volcano waiting to erupt right under the surface... This prince is a bloody nightmare. A bloody nightmare who will kill for you, die for you even (the ultimate romantic statement as far as I'm concerned).

I said it.

I stand behind it.

Its the secret theme behind all those other princes too...

Think about it, the dark art of Disney.

"Cat Among the Pigeons"