Week 2 Story: My Fair M'Lady

Pygmalion, by Edward Burnes Jones: Image

Pygmalion was the finest sculptor in the entire city of Paphos. The works he created astounded the city's other denizens, and he was paid very well for his art. Yet, despite all this, Pygmalion was not satisfied. The sculptor considered himself a romantic, yet he was unable to find love with any of the women of Paphos. 

"I don't understand," Pygmalion would think to himself. "I'm such a nice guy! I buy all the girls wonderful gifts and tell them how beautiful they are. I watch them as they go about their day, so I can surprise them when they're feeling down. I even tell them about the wonderful life they could have as my wife, watching me work on my sculptures. But they still want nothing to do with me!"

The sculptor lamented at his awful luck with love for a long while, until finally he came to a realization. "The problem isn't with me, it's with those dumb women!" Pygmalion concluded. "They're too blind to see what a nice and romantic guy I am. I'll make my own wife, one that's more beautiful than any of them, and she'll appreciate my love!"

So, Pygmalion started on his greatest work yet. For weeks, he labored intensely over his project, until finally, with his trademark dexterity, he finely carved the most beautiful woman he had ever seen out of the finest ivory. He marveled at his finished work, eyes ablaze with passion at what he had created. To him, she was perfect in every way.

He showered his new doll in gifts and fineries, just as he had always dreamed of doing. He would lay the statue on his bed, and sleep next to it as if it were his wife, touching and caressing it as if it were truly flesh. Pygmalion was overjoyed, yet deep down he knew it would not last. He longed to hear his ivory doll say that she loves him.

On the day of the festival of Venus, Pygmalion begged the goddess to give his doll life. Venus, weary of the sculptor's constant prayers, decided to grant his wish...or so he thought. The next day, Pygmalion awoke to find his ivory doll made flesh laying next to him, and rejoiced. His exclamations startled the woman, and she woke to find the sculptor moving in for a kiss. The woman pushed Pygmalion away, much to the sculptor's surprise.

"My love," Pygmalion cried out. "Finally, the goddess has answered my prayers and given you to me to be my wife! Kiss me now, so that we may be together forever!"

The woman looked back, confused and disgusted. "Why on earth would I do that? I have no feelings for you, and I don't appreciate your advances. I'm not entirely sure how I got here, but I'll be leaving now"

"But wait," Pygmalion said. "You can't leave, I've been nothing but good to you! I gave you the finest jewelry I could find, and dressed you in the most beautiful clothes on all of Paphos!"

"Well that explains the dress," the woman said, looking down at her new body. "Well I appreciate the clothes and the jewelry, but that doesn't mean I have to love you. I have had no say in any of this."

Pygmalion reached out desperately towards his love. "But I let you stay here in my house! I let you watch me sculpt beautiful statues! I did all of this for you, I love you!"

The woman recoiled from the sculptor, and looked down at him quizzically. "How could you love me? You know nothing about me!"

"I know everything about you," Pygmalion exclaimed. "I created you!"

The woman tilted her head slightly and asked, "Then what is my name?"

Pygmalion was stunned. He racked his brain for answers but found none. "You don't have one, I never gave you one."

The woman smirked. "Of course you would say that," she said. "You would prefer me as a nameless object, ready to do whatever you bid, with no thoughts of my own. My name is Galatea, and the goddess Venus has given me life to tell you that you were a fool to think that you could mimic the gods and create love from nothing. For your hubris, you will never find the love that you currently crave, for you are an egotistical man, and love is a mutual bond. So long as you treat the women you lust for like the statues you create, your life will be lonely and empty."

Galatea rushed out of the room, Pygmalion racing after her, though when he opened the door, she was nowhere to be seen. Pygmalion fell to his knees and began to sob. The goddess Venus looked down at the despairing sculptor with pity, knowing that he would never truly change his ways.

Author's Note: This is the story of Pygmalion with a twist that makes the story a bit sadder, but more realistic than the original. The language of the story was slightly modernized in some places while keeping some of the original narration style intact. Much more dialogue was used than in the original story as well.

Bibliography. Ovid's Metamorphoses, translated by Tony Kline. Web Source