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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