Pygmalion II

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.