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The Claiming Of Sleeping Beauty
The Claiming Of Sleeping Beauty
Beauty is awakened from her hundred-year sleep by the Prince, not with
a simple kiss, but with an initiation into a Satyricon-like world of
sexual adventures. He takes her to his kingdom, ruled by his mother, the
Queen, and Beauty is stripped naked and trained as a slave and a
plaything. The rest of the naked slaves, dozens of them, in the Queen's
palace are princes and princesses sent by their royal parents from the
surrounding kingdoms as tributes. In this palace they spend several years
learning to become obedient and submissive sexual property, accepting
being spanked, being publicly displayed, crawling around on their hands
and knees, servicing their masters and mistresses, until they return to
their own lands "being enhanced in wisdom".
In the palace Beauty meets another slave, Prince Alexi, with whom she
copulates passionately. After that he tells her the long adventurous
journey he had in the palace. Alexi previously had been a stubborn prince
who fought back all the attempts to break him, until the Queen sent him to
the kitchen to get him tortured by crude kitchen servants. The punishment
Alexi received there was so savage and merciless he began to lose his
senses and, after some particularly humiliating training at the hands of a
strong stable boy, Alexi became a totally surrendered slave, playing
various sexual games at the Queen's commands.
Sleeping Beauty, Claiming a depressive's tale
I know I took my Effexor last night, and yet today I still feel as if
I'm on Effexor withdrawal, with a buzzing head full of fluff and iron
filings.
Lying in bed, trying to make myself get out of it and up, I recalled that
I once wrote a poem using Sleeping Beauty as a metaphor for depression.
It's pretty much got it all. I was pricked on the finger in early
adolescence, and have never fully woken up. The struggle of trying to hack
your way through the briars leaves you bloody and covered in scars, then
exhausted so you fall back into your sleep. The briar hedge grows so fast
you never seem to make any significant progress before you're torn down
and worn out, and it's hung with the corpses of others who've tried to
escape. Most people who try to hack their way through from the other side
give up, or pretend it's not there and stand there shouting at you to just
damn well walk through it.
So you sleep. It's the sanest choice - sleep, or maybe throw yourself out
of the tower, because there's no point ripping yourself to shreds again on
the briars.
Perhaps you are waiting for the kiss of the prince that will wake you, a
magic pill from the lips of a psychiatrist or therapist, that one
miraculous person who fights their way through the briar and saves you.
Or perhaps you've read the original story. There was no briar, just
isolation, and there was no perfect prince kissing anyone awake. There was
a king on his annual hunting trip, who came across a comatose beauty in a
castle in the forest, and like any good college frat boy, raped her. Each
year he came back for a bit of rape, until the beauty gave birth to twins.
She was only woken when one of the babies, seeking milk, suckled her
fingertip and sucked out the thorn that sent her into her sleep. The king,
on his next visit, takes her and his new children home with them, because
she really has no other choice but to go off with her rapist. Happily ever
after? His mother is an ogre who wants to eat her babies, and the story
turns into something akin to Snow White.
This is why I have always prefered the old tales, the fairy stories from
before Perrault and co prettied them up. So much more true to life.
Claming The Sleeping Beauty Trilogy
A society of hypocrisy and mock-Puritanism forces a person at times to
go to great lengths to truly express herself. This was the case when Anne
Rice took up the pseudonym of A.N. Roquelaure, translated literally under
a cloak, so that she could pen the Sleeping Beauty trilogy. She feared
alienation from her loyal readers as well as the criticism that would come
from those who were shocked and offended by her erotic twist on a child's
tale. This would be especially upsetting to those acquainted primarily
with the version of the story which Disney had redefined to be so clean
and innocent. So under the guise of the mysterious A.N. Roquelaure, the
master authoress wove her tales, free from fear of persecution and the
need to defend her image. The result was a gift to lovers of erotica
everywhere. By name they are The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty, Beauty's
Punishment and Beauty's Release.
To briefly summarize the premise of these novels is to revisit a favorite
tale of childhood. The story's central figure, a lovely princess named
Beauty, lies sleeping in a castle where she awaits the kiss of the prince
to awaken her. Many try and fail to claim her until a Prince from a
faraway land succeeds in accessing the castle spire in which she rests.
From this point, however, the familiar story takes a dramatic erotic turn.
Rather than simply kissing Beauty, the prince claims her virginity on the
spot and takes her away to his kingdom as his naked slave. Once in the
kingdom, Beauty is handed over to various mistresses and masters to
experience the relationship between pleasure and pain in its rawest state.
Joining her in her dark journey of discipline and servitude are countless
other princes and princesses who have been claimed as well to learn the
ways of the submissive sexual bondservant. It is soon seen that none is
equal in grace and splendor to Beauty, however and this works to both her
advantage and dismay in that special attention is always paid her.
Ultimately, through her experience as a slave, Beauty comes to an
understanding of who she really is and what drives her.
I first heard about the trilogy when I heard comparisons made between it
and Cinderella by a favorite author of mine, Titian Beresford. A
particular fetish of mine is reading and writing erotic fairy tales, so
naturally I picked up the first installment of the trilogy the next chance
I got. From the first page, I was drawn in. The character of Beauty
captivated me. Beginning life in wealth and luxury as a princess then to
be suddenly being stripped of your virginity, clothing and dignity is
bound to make you do some heavy thinking. Simply reading about it does as
well. A great many reviews have been written, I'm sure, on this modern
classic and I'm sure each amateur critic took something else away from
their reading. For me, the central message of the book had to do with the
joy of sacrifice and servitude.
At first, Beauty is stricken with fear of nearly everything. She fears the
Queen especially. Soon Beauty learns, however, that the Queen and others
like her in this new kingdom need Beauty just as much as Beauty is
supposed to need them. She is made to serve them with her lips, tongue and
body and by performing certain feats of dexterity and endurance which at
first fill her heart with resentment. Once she understands that the goal
of these tasks is to please her masters and mistresses, however, Beauty's
outlook changes. The need to serve and please those who command her
becomes paramount. Nothing else matters.
When I was reading this and reflecting on Anne Rice's portrayal of
Beauty's dedication to selflessly pleasuring others, I was led back in
thought to the teachings of the Christian religion. We should do unto
others as we would like them to do unto us, the Golden Rule states. We
also should put others before ourselves according to Christ. The last
shall be first and blessed are the meek. I sensed undertones from Rice
that Beauty's experience was not just physical, as in the whippings she
suffered and intercourse she reveled in. Nor was her experience just
emotional as when her tears streamed endlessly after first being taken.
Hers was also a spiritual awakening, one that taught her that her actions
deeply impacted the lives of others, even at her lowliest. She lived to
serve and in that, she found illumination and inner peace.
Having said all that in praise of the Beauty trilogy, I do have a bone or
two to pick with the novels. For one, the scenes are often a little too
brutal for my liking. There is much spanking and abusing of flesh in these
novels. There are also descriptions and events that may fail to arouse but
succeed in nauseating, such as one naughty Princess who is hung doubled by
her hands and feet so that her snatch is exposed plainly and smeared with
honey so the flies will plague her. I found this a little distasteful.
Also, there are occasions when you got the sinking feeling that you had
read this passage earlier in the novel. As was previously mentioned, there
is a lot of spanking in these novels which tends to create a sense of
redundancy. I found myself skipping some paragraphs after reading the
first sentence, knowing where it was headed. Yeah, yeah, I know. The
prince is spanking her again.
In spite of its few faults, the trilogy remains an erotic classic from an
excellent author. It stands as a testament to what a writer can produce
when she feels safe from persecution over content or ideas expressed. I
highly recommend it to any fan of erotica and would place it upon the
required reading list for any upstart erotic authors interested in
reviewing the classics.
Dance Claiming 'The Sleeping Beauty'
No one does the classics like the Maryinsky, at least not when the
proper combination of talent, coaching and maturity combine to form a
promising young star in one of the theater's repertoire staples. Friday
night's performance of the reconstructed version of "The Sleeping
Beauty" did just that, attesting to Olesya Novikova's place in the
company and the Kirov's own hold on classical traditions.
The "1890" as many call it, is a reconstruction of the original
version of Petipa's "Sleeping Beauty" based on historical notes
housed in the Harvard Theatre Collection. It differs significantly from
Konstantine Sergeev's beloved version in both choreography and sets. The
restored version is almost like the shift from black and white to color,
so lush are its hues and so vibrant the contrasts in the palette.
For this performance, Olesya Novikova's Aurora was the perfect depiction
of refined royalty, youthful grace and yes, beauty, alongside Andrian
Fadeev's ever-consistent Prince. Her superb coaching under the strong
eye of Olga Moiseeva was apparent through the perfection of her port de
bras, adjusted to reflect the style of an old epoch. Softly dipped elbows
and delicate fingertips met an erect carriage in Novikova's stage
presence which, combined with her flawless legwork, created a young
ballerina in every sense of the word. Her dramatic delivery was exemplary:
the first entrance on her 20th birthday displayed innocence and near
disbelief at the fanfare around her. When the suitors were presented to
her, with a confused look she asked her mother (through gesture) what she
was to do. Relieved that only dancing was required, she engaged the four
gentlemen equally. Likewise, technically Novikova is beyond reproach. Of
note were the promenades, in which she managed to lift her arm completely
overhead to fifth en avant after each suitor, and, confirming her
strength, needed very little support before the allonge extensions into
arabesque on her own.
Andrian Fadeev's Prince is, as mentioned before, as perfect as they
come. His mime in the first act made clear the emptiness in his heart as
much as his first encounter with the vision of Aurora imported his
feelings of love at first sight. Even after Aurora awakened from her long
sleep, his eyes did not leave her, so completely entranced was he with
this new princess bride. Technically Fadeev offered fireworks, especially
in the last act. (Indeed, it is not until then that we're able to enjoy
his real dancing in this longer version of the ballet.) Here he paused
after each perfect double tour, looked at the audience, and repeated the
sequence again. He also partnered Olesya faultlessly. Would that every
Prince were a Fadeev.
As much as the Novikova-Fadeev partnership pleased the audience, Yulia
Makhalina as the Lilac Fairy both frightened and disappointed them.
Despite this being her second performance of the role this month, and
despite its comparative lack of serious technical challenges and the
preponderance of mime, Makhalina was ill-placed in the role. While her
upper body was acceptable, no amount of smiles - and this ballet
requires four hours of them - could compensate for her weak legs. Both
visually and technically, she was an abhorrence to behold, her legs absent
of any normal musculature that would indicate recent movement. Technically
she could not stand on pointe, her feet seemingly devoid of arches, which
interrupted rather than continued the line of an extended leg. Moreover,
even when straightened, her legs appeared continuously bent. One hopes
that this is not a sign of a significant health problem - from the waist
up Makhalina was every bit the gracious fairy. But at the Kirov the
standards are higher.
Luckily, there were other fairies in the ballet ready to confer upon us
their impish charms. Of the five fairies bestowing gifts on Princess
Aurora, Daria Vasnetsova drew the most attention as Flair de Farin for her
quick footwork, bright expression and accurate style. Yana Selina
incorporated her usual sparkle and flair as the "Canary" fairy, her
flashes of leg always articulately placed. Ksenia Ostreikovskaya portrayed
the Fairy Candide languorously, her movements lush and purely classical.
Only Yulia Kasenkova and Elena Vaskiovitch appeared slightly less up to
par, both with stiff port de bras.
The final act offered some unexpected delights as well. The Jewels section
is always a snappy beginning for the parade of dancing to follow, and here
Ekaterina Osmolkina led the way with Yana Serebriakova (Sapphire), Yulia
Kasenkova (Gold) and Ksenia Dubrovina (Silver) alongside. While not as
cold as a diamond, Osmolkina was just as sharp - with added grace. Of
the three gemstones Serebriakova stood out from the rest for her own
expression and poise.
As Princess Florina, Yulia Bolshakova enchanted with her light touch,
self-confidence and accuracy. Here, although the enveloppes en pointe were
performed at half time, no wobbly footwork was to be found. Despite
claiming perhaps one extra bow, Bolshakova's performance proved that
someday she may rise within the ranks of the company. As her partner,
Bluebird Anton Korsakov appeared only slightly winded after his variation,
his brisés nonetheless bright. He finished with a triple pirouette
although typically is capable of much more.
Finally, an under-accoladed Igor Petrov as Carabosse deserves mention for
indulging both the audience and himself with his evil role, loving every
minute of his sinister malevolence, and we loving him for it right back.
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