#applicability

[creez-un-compte]

What if the Storybook of Legends is a metaphor for having to plan your entire life at age 14

[grayrazor]

Ursula LeGuin’s Left Hand of Darkness kind of has the opposite, and I think slightly more correct, perspective on what makes cultures warlike than Frank Herbert’s Dune.

People in harsh conditions, who have to struggle to survive every day, have nothing left for warmaking. They don’t become warriors, they become survivalists.

War is more the domain of wealthier, more stable societies, they can afford to be warriors. They can survive the wastefulness of making swords instead of plowshares.

Much as I like the series, there’s also a decent amount of orientalism in Dune. Americans imagine people from “The Rugged East” as being violent and harsh, when really things like, say, honor duels are more of an upper-class European thing.

[princesssarisa]

Different retellings of Beauty and the Beast seem to take different stances about which side of the Beast, animal vs. human, is "really" him, and which one is a facade he wears.

Of course he was born human, that goes without saying. But in the earliest versions, his most authentic self is obviously the gallant, intelligent prince, which the spell forces him to hide under the facade of a dull-witted, animalistic brute. But in so many adaptations, it seems as if the spell has genuinely turned him into an animalistic brute, making him struggle to wear the facade of a gallant gentleman to reclaim his dignity and put Beauty at ease.

In the original novella, one of the central themes is that the spell makes the Beast appear stupid. Not be stupid, appear stupid. He still has all his intelligence, education, and refinement of mind from his life as a prince, but in Beast form he's unable to express them. Only plain, simple words can come out of his mouth. And once Beauty arrives at the castle, the good fairy who serves as his mentor encourages him to play up his "stupidity" even further and make her think he's a total idiot, because according to the spell's conditions, the girl who agrees to marry him can't be won over by what's left of his intelligence, only by his kindness. Nor does he really have a ferocious temper, but the good fairy urges him to pretend he does when Beauty's father steals the rose, and to make an empty threat to kill him unless one of his daughters agrees to take his place, because the fairy knows this will bring Beauty to the castle.

So the original Beast is very much a gentleman on the inside, while the persona of the rough, slow-witted animal is like a disguise he's forced to wear.

But several adaptations almost flip the scenario.

In versions like Jean Cocteau's film, or the Disney film, or Megan Kearney's webcomic (all in different ways), we see that the spell has affected the Beast's mind and given him animalistic instincts. The original versions of the story never specify how or what the Beast eats, but almost all these versions have him hunt like a wild animal, and a few versions (e.g. the Czech film Panna a Netvor) even have him struggle with the urge to kill Beauty herself. In most of these versions he genuinely has a temper too, though it varies whether he ever directs his rage at Beauty or just at her father and/or elsewhere.

Sometimes, as in Cocteau's film or Kearney's webcomic, we see that the Beast tightly controls his animal instincts in front of Beauty and wears the facade of a proper gentleman. He walks upright, wears elegant clothes, and behaves with reserved and proper manners. But now and then, when he's alone or in moments of high emotion, the facade slips and we see the feral beast behind the mask. There's usually a dramatic scene where Beauty sees it too: e.g. when she sees him covered in blood after a hunt in Cocteau's film, or when she finds him naked and bloodily eating a deer in Kearny's webcomic. Meanwhile, in Disney's version, he starts out completely "coarse and unrefined," dressed in scanty rags, walking like a gorilla, and totally lacking in social skills or self-control. (The filmmakers and the movie's novelization have revealed, and a few lines in the Broadway musical imply, that the spell is slowly turning his mind completely bestial and that he's lost most of his memories of his human life.) But with Belle's influence and his servants' encouragement, he gradually learns to "act like a gentleman," to control his temper, to show proper manners and gallantry to Belle, and to dress, eat, and walk like a human again.

Either way, rather than a gentleman hiding his sophistication under the facade of an animal, he comes across as an animal trying, or learning, to hide his feral nature under the facade of a gentleman.

Somehow, as a neurodivergent person, I find both of these variations relatable.

For the original Beast, I relate to knowing that I'm just as human as anyone else, with just as many deep, articulate thoughts and the exact same feelings as any other person, but with inner blocks that keep me from expressing myself in a "normal" way and keep others from realizing that I'm just like them.

For the adapted Beasts, I relate to feeling wild, messy, and bad at social skills and self-control, and to the effort it takes to mask. In them I see my awkwardness, executive dysfunction, and emotional dysregulation, and I relate to their struggles to suppress it all and behave in a "normal," "human" way in front of Beauty or Belle, as well as their shame and fear of rejection whenever she sees the mask slip.

As an autistic person, I sometimes feel both like a sophisticated human cursed to seem like a brute on the surface and like an inherent brute making an effort to seem like a sophisticated human.

Of course neither version of the Beast was created with neurodivergent people in mind. In the case of the earlier versions, I suppose it's part of the story's framing as a mystery from Beauty's point of view, and her eventual discovery that there's more to this seemingly coarse and stupid Beast than meets the eye. There's also the message for young girls to value love, respect, and kindness more than either good looks or wit and sophistication in their potential husbands. As for the adaptations with feral Beasts struggling to control their animal instincts, I suppose that comes from new writers looking at the story more from the Beast's point of view and exploring his pain and self-loathing, his desperation for love, and his deteriorating mental health. The tale's reinterpretation by LBGT+ artists like Jean Cocteau or Howard Ashman probably explains the recurring theme of the Beast feeling forced to hide his own instincts in order to be accepted, rather than having instincts that would make him accepted if only the facade of the spell didn't hide them. Then there's the Disney version's screenplay by Linda Woolverton with her feminist agenda, where to some extent, it seems that the Beast's animalistic behavior represents raw, aggressive masculinity, which needs to be tamed if he wants to be loved by a self-respecting "modern" woman like Belle.

But I'm sure many different groups of people find applicability in both of these different characterizations of the Beast.

[steamed-cogs]

"Punching someone's lights out" is one of the phrases descended from shiners steambots still use that retains its original wording, but with a slightly different meaning. Steambots literally have "lights". To punch another bot's lights out either means you knocked them out cold or you outright killed them. Other old phrases relating to light are also in common use for this reason.

[knightofleo]

[titleknown]

I think it’s a testament to how good and applicable the message of this short is that it works ridiculously well as an autism metaphor and a trans metaphor despite this short being made in the 60s and its source material being made in the 40s...

[addictivecontradiction]

Blockers, 2018