For English class, I have to analyze a poem and write an essay about it. Naturally, I chose a poem relating to the Greek myth "Pygmalion". Galatea was a sculpture turned into a woman by the gods. And she never asked for it and resents Aphrodite a bit, because why didn't the goddess of beauty just make Pygmalion fall in love with a regular woman?
Lately even before Pygmalion finishes his breakfast, he rushes to his new sculptures to see if they also have been brought to life. Wow... what a curse. Aphrodite gives a mortal what he wants, and this just encourages selfish human behaviour, no appreciation... Just wanting more and more, a greediness... But oh, I suppose Galatea does find it fascinating to be alive.
I analyze it as... A human longing for an impossible goal or wish, and once it has been granted... Humans just move onto the next wish or goal... No appreciation... just wanting more. And this can hurt others... I suppose~
Need to convert these scattered thoughts into a real essay, soon...
“Galatea” by Katherine Solomon
He never aske me how I’d feel about it.
Of course they never do. It’s true,
his adoration rew more from the milky
ivory than the curves of my form:
a deep flutter—though it was still
hard to tell if the warmth was the warmth
of his gaze, from his hands
when he put the mallet down and ran
them over my emerging
self, or if it was that spot
of godhood, present
even in the mutest matter.
O Aphrodite. Why
didn’t you just touch his eyes
when some fairly comely maiden passed—
and spare me all this pain
in my joints, my heart? With life
you gave me death, and growing
old and old and old. And lately,
even before he breaks
his fast, he rushes past me,
hoping this will be the day he’ll see
a trembling begin
under the sculptor’s cloth
again. My hands, offering
the morning bread, stumble
in his wake. But, oh!
The colours of dawn. How they move
across my living arms.
