Episode 39D – Prisoners of Love – Myths Your Teacher Hated

Episode 39D Show Notes

Source: French Folklore

This week on MYTH, we’ll finish our aside with the Queen and the Fairy and we’ll meet up with Belle as she sacrifices herself. This is the fourth episode in our telling of the classic French tale, Beauty and the Beast. You’ll learn that it’s rude to call someone ugly, that executions can be festive, and that you should learn to pack light. Then, in Gods and Monsters, we’ll meet a pair of horribly sexist man-eating monsters. This is the Myths Your Teacher Hated podcast, where I tell the stories of cultures from around the world in all of their original, bloody, uncensored glory. Modern tellings of these stories have become dry and dusty, but I’ll be trying to breathe new life into them. This is Episode 39D, “Prisoners of Love”. As always, this episode is not safe for work.
When we last left our story, we met a rich merchant in a city in France whose wife had probably died, but not before having six sons and six daughters with him. Things had gone pretty well until an unlucky fire had burned everything the merchant had owned, and a series of accidents on the high seas had destroyed his business dealings. Broke and bereft, he was forced to move his family out to a tiny cottage several hundred miles away from the city that he had managed to hang on to by his fingernails. The dozen children had settled into their new routine of being poor and abandoned by everyone who had previously wanted to either flirt, befriend, or fuck them, although all but the youngest had done so with bad grace. That young woman, nicknamed Belle (or Beauty) because of her incredible looks and even better personality, had been the only one to try and make the best of the situation. Two years into this Purgatory, a message had come that one ship full of goods had arrived at port unexpectedly. The merchant had rushed off to the city to try and get some of his previously vast wealth back, but he was cheated out of everything by his former partners and found himself having to head back in defeat six months later only to get lost in a blizzard. He wandered into a magical seeming castle full of weird shit but no people and, for reasons unknown, decided that fate wanted him to have it. He had plucked a rose for his beloved Belle, the only thing she had asked for while he was gone, only to be confronted by a horrible, hideous beast enraged at the merchant for ripping him off. The Beast demanded the merchant’s life, but offered to take one of his daughters in his stead, but only if she came to the castle willingly and in full knowledge of what awaited her. He warned the merchant that if he tried to flee or break the bargain, the Beast would hunt down everyone he ever loved. Then, he sent the man home for a month to say his goodbyes. When his children learn what happened, the sons offer to fight the Beast, and the daughters offer up Belle as a sacrifice. The merchant doesn’t want to accept this bargain, but Belle is insistent. At the end of the allotted month, the Beast’s horse arrived as promised to take them back to the castle and their certain doom. We then took a detour out to a neighboring kingdom to meet a Prince who’s father had been killed around the time he was born. A neighboring king decided that a widowed single mother with a newborn infant would make an easy target and invaded, forcing the Queen to ride off into battle with her army. Before leaving, she entrusted her son to the care of an old, ugly, mean-spirited but very powerful fairy to raise until the war was over. This she did for around 15 years, during which time she went all creeptown on the Prince and decided that she wanted to be his wife instead of his mother and began pressuring him to marry her. They rode out together to meet the Queen, since the Prince insisted he couldn’t wed without his mother’s blessing, and he took up arms for the final battle of the war. Victory achieved (although with the villain still alive against the advice of the Queen’s generals because she feared for the safety of her son), they began the long ride back home.
The army entered the capital city to shouts of triumph. Citizens lined the streets to throw flowers on the returning heroes or to wail for those who were never coming home. They wound through the city towards the palace where, finally, they were able to get some peace. “Well now, Queenie, you’re back home safe and sound, and so it’s time for us to have a little talk. Your son has grown into a very fine, handsome young man, hasn’t he?” The Queen agreed that her son was, indeed, very tall and strapping as well as reminding her a bit of her late husband in his youth. “I agree with your assessment, my dear, and so we have come to ask for your blessing on our intent to be married!”
The Prince winced inwardly. This wasn’t how he’d wanted this conversation to go. He’d hoped to find a chance to talk to his mother in private first, warn her about what was about to happen, but the decrepit old fairy had never left his side during the whole ride back and so the opportunity had never arisen. The Queen was surprised by this, to put it mildly. She had been reveling in being back in the still-unfinished and somewhat ramshackle palace of a minor country king. The late King had never had the chance to finish more than the bones of the place due to the thousands of problems he had to deal with before war broke out, and the Queen had been far too busy prosecuting the war to worry about construction. This revelation blindsided her and ruined her reverie, which is probably why she forgot that she was dealing with a powerful and fickle member of the fae. “Have you lost your damn mind? You want to marry my son, who you’ve raised from an infant? Preposterous!”
To be fair, the Queen was absolutely right. The Fairy was being creepy and weird, but then, she wasn’t exactly human, and her sense of right and wrong did not align with those of mortals. The Queen couldn’t imagine her precious son married off to some ancient, hideous crone. The story wants to make sure you understand that she wasn’t just unattractive because she was old and wrinkly. If she had been beautiful in her youth, she could have used her powerful magic to preserve at least some of it, but she was, and I quote, naturally ugly. Fairy tales are often obsessed with the idea that goodness and beauty are inextricably linked, and this story is no different. It’s problematic, but what can you do?
The Fairy was surprised. No one dared speak to her that way, not even queens. She was a conceited and narcissistic creature, completely blind to any of her faults or mistakes, so she absolutely could not understand why the Queen wasn’t kissing her feet in thanks for deigning to marry her mortal son. Didn’t she know what an honor it was to marry one of the Fae? Especially one as powerful as she was?
“The fuck do you mean ‘preposterous’? You would do well to reflect on whether it is wise of you to remind me of the things I had been kind enough to forget! You’re so busy congratulating yourself on having a fine son that you forget that you didn’t do shit to raise him. That was all me! I raised a mortal man who was enough to catch my eye, the eye of an immortal fairy, and made me consider slumming it enough to be with him. You’d best give me the respect that I deserve before I have time to change my mind, bitch.”
The Queen probably should have backed down and found a way to flatter the Fairy into doing what she wanted, which works in several of the old stories, but she was nearly as proud as the Fairy, especially coming off the heady feeling of victory from the end of such a long war. Part of the problem was that she, as a born monarch, couldn’t really conceive of the idea of anyone having a higher rank than a Queen. She was used to giving orders and being obeyed, especially after a decade and a half on the battlefield. Rather than answer the Queen’s furious question, she simply stared at the Fairy with haughty derision. The silence dragged on, becoming deadly brittle.
“Cat got your tongues, assholes? Why won’t either of you fucking say something? Have you gone speechless at how incredible my offer is, or are you stupid enough to try and turn me down?” She turned from the Queen to her son. “Tell me, Prince, are you such an ungrateful little shit that you won’t marry me after everything I did for you? Will you not say yes to me right the fuck now?” The Fairy seems like the worst kind of toxic fuckboy, entitled and angry that her “nice” deeds aren’t buying her what she wanted.
The Prince was trapped, so he did the only thing he could do. He told the truth. “I’m sorry, madame, but although I am incredibly grateful for everything you have done for me, I cannot pay my debt to you with marriage. With my mother’s blessing, I would rather stay here in the castle with her and get to know her as something more than a vague memory. Name any other price and I will gladly pay it. Just not that.”
The Fairy swelled with indignant fury. “You dare say no to me, you insignificant worm! You think you can refuse me? And you, Queen, you can see the arrogance of this little bastard and not be furious with him? Silly me, of course you’re not because this is all your doing! You started this bullshit and your sneaky looks have inspired this shitty attitude of his.”
The Queen was outraged at being spoken to like this in her own home. Her anger got the better on her and, seeing a stand mirror in the room with them, said to the Fairy “The only answer I can make is the one that you ought to have made to yourself. Look in the fucking mirror and let that awful hag be my answer to you!” “So it is beauty then that renders your precious son so vain and insolent? It’s beauty which has thrown such a hateful response in my face at such a magnificent honor? You think me too ugly to marry your handsome son, huh? Well fuck you, bitch! I spent years crafting him into the perfect man, and so it is only fitting that I crown my work by taking that work away from you before your very eyes. Away, wretch!” With her last words, she smashed the Prince on the top of his head. The blow was mighty enough to drive him face-first to the floor. He lay there, gasping in pain and feeling as though the weight of an entire mountain bore down upon his tortured chest. The world went black with pain…
We’ll meet these characters again in the next few episodes, I promise, but for now, we’re going to jump back over to poor Belle and her father the merchant, who are journeying back to the majestic castle of the Beast. Belle’s sisters had been almost gleeful at the arrival of the horse and with it their sister’s demise, but her brothers were horrified, and pressed around her for one last tearful hug. The tearful scene finally put a small crack in the stone hearts of her terrible sisters and they began to wonder if maybe they should be a little nicer to the sister they were about to send off to her gruesome death, but it was too late. During the whole thing, the merchant had mounted up on the horse, unable to face the pain and mechanically going through the motions of what he knew he had to do. Belle climbed up behind him as quickly as if she were going with him on a pleasant picnic out to the country and not to her own execution.
The moment that both were settled, the incredible horse leapt into a gallop as fast as the wind itself. Belle was shocked at how smoothly the horse moved considering the deadly speed at which they raced along. Even the rush of the wind passed their ears was no harsher than a gentle breeze, allowing for easy communication between Belle and her father. The merchant took full use of this and spent the entire trip trying to convince Belle to dismount and go back.
“Come on, Belle, there’s still time to change your mind! You have no idea how truly monstrous this Beast is, and no words of mine can adequately convey it. It means so much to me that you are here now, with me, but however sure you are that you want to do this, it won’t stand up to the horrifying visage of the Beast. Your resolve will falter and you will want to leave. I won’t blame you, but it will be too late then, and he will kill both of us because you changed your mind too late. Please, my daughter; please reconsider this foolhardy decision to try and save my worthless life!”
“If I were going to meet the Beast with the expectation of finding some small happiness, you would be right to worry about me quailing under his eye and trying to back out, but I am riding with you expecting nothing but my own bloody death. What could be worse than that? Does it really matter if the thing that kills me is pleasing to the eye or horrid? I’ll be dead either way.”
Night fell as they argued, but the horse never so much as slowed down. It was disconcerting to race headlong into blackness, but not much more so than in daylight on an impossibly fast horse, so they both just accepted it until suddenly the darkness was shattered by a dazzling display of fireworks. These weren’t just simple exploding colors either, but the absolute latest and greatest in pyrotechnics, with flowers growing from pots, great spinning wheels, and glowing suns, all drawn in colored fire. Think Bilbo’s birthday from the Lord of the Rings. The fireworks were so grand and so frequent that they lit the forest up as the couple traveled and even warmed the chill air slightly, which both passengers appreciated.
By the flashing of colored light, Belle and her father saw that they had reached the orange orchard that marked the edge of the Beast’s property. As they crossed over, the fireworks ceased abruptly, but light was now provided by the irregularly placed statues who all clutched burning torches in their hands. Between them, to ensure even light, were hung thousands of lanterns in intricate designs, including one set that depicted intertwined letter B’s, presumably for Belle and Beast. As they left the outer courtyard and entered the the court proper, their entry was announced by a booming salvo of artillery firing in a honor salute mingling with the sound of what had to be a thousand unseen instruments. The strange music swirled in and around the blasts of the cannons, creating an oddly soft and warlike but still thrilling and charming sound. This wasn’t the greeting they had expected.
Belle laughed wryly in her father’s ear. “The Beast must be ravenous to make such a huge fuss at the arrival of his prey.” It was gallows humor, and Belle’s stomach was turning over and over in terror, but she still couldn’t help but notice how magnificent this castle was or how unbelievable this welcome was. It was more elaborate and extravagant than the pomp and ceremony for the wedding of the most powerful king who ever lived, and it was all in honor of her coming death. How strange.
The horse slowed to a stop at the foot of the flight of steps into the castle proper. Belle jumped down lightly from the saddle and helped her father down, who proceeded to lead her inside, through a great hall, and into the drawing room where he had been feasted by the Beast the last time he was here. Inside, they found a roaring fire beating back the night’s chill ringed by countless candles, all giving off a subtle but intoxicating perfume. At the center stood a table heavily laden with a rich repast and all the trimmings. The merchant, familiar by now with the Beast’s peculiar form of hosting his guests, told his daughter that this had surely been laid out for their use, and so they could safely tuck in and enjoy dinner. At least it would be one hell of a last meal.
Belle didn’t bother to ask questions. She trusted her father and besides, it wasn’t like the Beast could kill her twice, right? She tucked in, part of her enjoying the thrill of her small defiance. By eating heartily, she would show that monster that she didn’t fear him enough to spoil her appetite. An even smaller part of her, where hope yet bloomed, wondered if it was possible that by meeting him with her chin held high, she might soften his attitude and maybe yet escape with both of their lives. She couldn’t admit this hope even to herself, but it was there.
There was no sign of the castle’s master while they ate, which the merchant had frankly expected. It was strange, thought Belle, that this place of exquisite beauty, every detail of which sang of joy and magnificence, should be decorated thusly for her funeral. This Beast was a strange creature.
If she had hoped that simply fulfilling her father’s promise to return would satisfy the Beast, she was soon disappointed. As they were finishing their meal, thudding footfalls could be heard from the next room, announcing his presence. This was soon joined by the bony rattling of his thick scales and a deep, throbbing roar that drove a spike of ice through her very soul. The Beast was coming, and terror came with him.
The merchant clutched his daughter to him, sobbing loudly trying very hard not to imagine what was about to happen. Belle, however, regained her composure quickly . She dried her cheeks and stiffened her spine. The Beast entered the room, and he was far more repugnant than she had imagined. She could barely stand to look at his horrible visage, but even so, she stood and walked over to him. She curtsied politely and with only a slight tremble.
It was hard to read his twisted face, but he seemed pleased with her moxy. When he spoke, there was no trace of anger in his voice, though its deep, throbbing rasp was still enough to drive terror into the heart of any sane person. “Good evening, dear sir. Good evening, Belle.” The merchant’s mouth gaped open, his terror for his daughter robbing him of the ability to speak. Belle stepped in to feel the gap. “Good evening, Beast.”
“Have you come here freely and of your own will? And are you prepared to stay here in your father’s place and allow him to leave?” “I have and I am.” “And what do you think will become of you once your father leaves this place?” “I expect to die, but my life will be in your hands. Whatever fate you deem worthy, whatever punishment you see fit, I will readily and blindly submit to.”
The Beast, proving that part of his monstrous form was chauvinist pig, snorted with pleasure. “I like that you are so docile and obedient. Since it appears you have not been forced into this, you will remain here with me.” He rounded on the merchant. “As for you, human, you shall depart tomorrow at the break of dawn. A bell will warn you when to rise. Don’t try to drag your fucking heels at breakfast. Eat and get the hell out of here before I change my mind. You will find the same horse that brought you here waiting to take you home. Be warned, mortal, once you are back amongst your children, do not even think of trying to come back here. The doors of this palace are closed to you forever.”
The Beast turned back to Belle, driving the merchant completely out of his mind. “And now, my dear Belle, take your father into the closet over there. Choose anything that either of you thinks will make your siblings happy. There are two trunks in there. Fill them up with whatever you wish. I am not yet so lost to courtesy as to not let you send them something to remember you by now that you are gone from their lives.” She did as she was bid, saying good night to her host/executioner on her way out.
The Beast had been far more generous and civil than either had expected, but that didn’t make her father’s coming departure any easier for her to bear. She was doing her best to hold back her grief, but it was coming close to crushing her. The merchant wasn’t doing much better. He was berating himself mentally for ever letting himself get talked into letting Belle come here. He should have died here himself. He hated what he was doing, but he also knew it was too late to turn back now. That didn’t stop him from suggesting that the two of them simply run, go find the horse and ride out of here, but Belle wouldn’t hear of it. She wouldn’t put everyone in danger by trying to save her own hide. She’d come out here to save him, not get everyone else killed.
Both deeply depressed, they went about looking for things to bring home for Belle’s brothers and sisters. There was a lot to choose from as the closet was huge and full of incredible treasures. There were dresses and gowns so exquisite that a queen couldn’t have asked for better, and jewelry finer than any she had ever even seen. Belle went about choosing dresses for her sisters, far nicer than anything they had owned previously and which might help them get a decent marriage proposal. That done, she popped open a large box with a door of carved crystal chased with gold. Inside, she found piles and piles of gigantic gemstones, rare and incredibly precious. This would definitely be enough to get her family back to living the life they had lost.
Per the Beast’s instructions, she began to fill the two trunks with dresses and jewels, divided up as evenly as she could between her siblings. She opened one last chest and found it full to the brim with gold coins. She stopped, thinking. “Daddy, maybe we’ve gone about this all wrong. Maybe we should fill the two trunks solid with gold. That way, you can keep your wealth secret and give it out to the rest of the family as you see fit. The jewels are worth a fortune each, but they’re worthless unless you can find someone to sell them to, and even if you find that, they’ll know how much you have and may try to rob you. I don’t want to bring more suffering down on our house. With two trunks of gold, you can buy anything you need to take care of everyone and not have to worry.”
The merchant thought this was a splendid idea, but he refused to take the dresses that had been selected for his daughters out. He knew their eyes would light up if he actually came back with the things they had wanted most, and he needed some small measure of happiness. He did, however, take out everything he had selected for himself and replaced it with gold coins. Only, once he had dumped all of the gold in, there was still room. They were made of an odd folded metal which expanded as they were filled, so he ended up adding the gold and the jewels, ending up with even more fabulous wealth than he honestly wanted.
The merchant decided that Belle’s idea was a good one. He resolved to keep his wealth secret, even from his children, and maintain their simple country life. He felt that his daughters especially would be corrupted by the glamor of wealth and status in the city, and if they knew about his money, they would never leave him alone about going back. Besides, he liked being away from the city and all of the assholes who had screwed him over the first time. He felt safer in their country abode.
His visions of security vanished, though, when he realized that the sheer volume of gold and jewels packed into the two trunks made them unbelievably heavy. There was no way he was going to lift that, and no way a horse was going to carry them. It would take an elephant to get one of those off the ground. His shoulders sagged dejectedly. “Shit, I didn’t realize how heavy these would be. The Beast is taunting us. His display of kindness was actually cruelty. He pretends to offer me great wealth knowing I can never actually take it with me.”
Belle shook her head. She wasn’t convinced. “There was nothing in his voice or his body language that made me think he was having fun at our expense. He seems incredibly courteous, so long as his rules are followed, and since he made the offer I think it will be his job to find a way of getting this home with you. Leave it there for him to figure out. He’s proven he can find our home…your home, I mean. He can send them by carriage later.”
The merchant didn’t have a better idea, and he knew better than to disobey his violent guest, so he closed the two trunks and left them there. They re-entered the drawing room to discover that dessert had already been laid out for them. The merchant discovered that he had a better appetite than he’d had earlier. The Beast hadn’t killed her yet, and it was beginning to look like maybe he was going to keep her around. Maybe he’d been lonely. In fact, if it weren’t for the Beast’s cruel insistence that he would never, ever see this place again, he could almost have set out for home with a light heart. Death was the only thing that couldn’t be fixed, after all (which isn’t at all true, but he was an optimist).
Belle did not share her father’s feelings. She was quite sure that her future would be bleak and terrible, and possibly quite short. She feared that the gifts being heaped on her family were weregeld, a blood price. Every time she closed her eyes, she had visions of her father riding away and then the Beast turning to her with a toothy grin to devour her. Best case scenario, she would be the prisoner of a capricious monster for the rest of her life, never sure that he wouldn’t just decide to kill her and be done with it. That was no kind of life to live, but it was the one she would be living.
These thoughts occupied her all through desert and late into the night, long after her father had fallen asleep on the sofa. She only shook out of her reverie when the bell chimed to tell them it was time to wake and go their separate ways. They ate quickly and then went outside for their final goodbye. Two horses were standing there, one saddled for riding and one laden with the two trunks. He recognized the horse he was to ride as the one he had ridden each time thus far. He had no idea how the other horse was able to stand under the load it carried, but he didn’t much care. It was time for him to say goodbye to his beloved favorite daughter forever. He would never see her again.
He wanted to stay for hours, to tell her just how much he loved her and how sorry he was that she was taking this fall for him, and how incredibly brave she was. He wanted to, but he couldn’t find the words and he feared angering the Beast by tarrying, so he gave her a tearful hug and mounted. As always, the horse leapt into motion as soon as he was settled, the second somehow keeping pace, and they raced like the wind carrying him away from his daughter. Belle stood there in the courtyard, utterly alone. Now what?
Unfortunately, dear listeners, you’ll have to wait until next time for the answer to Belle’s questions because it’s time for Gods and Monsters. This is a segment where I get into a little more detail about the personalities and history of one of the gods or monsters from this week’s pantheon that was not discussed in the main story. This week’s monster is a two-for-one deal of rampant patriarchy and sexisim in the guise of Bigorne and Chicheface (chicka-fatche).
The two monsters journey together and have diets that are both very similar and incredibly different. Bigorne, whose name means “two-horned” although that’s actually a reference to it being as big and heavy as an anvil (since it has no horns at all), is a huge, fat monster with thick overlapping scales on its back, a smooth belly with smaller, jeweled scales, a tufted tail like a lion, long, massive claws on its front paws, and webbed feet on its back ones. Chicheface, whose name means “thin face”, is shaped like an emaciated werewolf. It’s head and body are distinctly lupine, although it has hooved back legs.
The two first appeared in the 15th Century (although it’s possible the Chicheface had existed before and was simply adapted). There were a number of satirical poems and artworks from this time depicting the two monsters, notably Le dit de Chicheface (The words of Chicheface), preserved in a mural at Auvergne, Jubinal’s poem on the Life of Saint Genevieve, and Chaucer’s Clerk’s Tale (although only Chicheface is mentioned there). In all of the examples, Bigorne eats only patient, submissive, henpecked husbands while Chicheface eats only obedient wives. Bigorne is fat because almost all husbands are ruled by their wives while Chicheface is emaciated because he has only found one woman he can eat in 10,000 years.
This is some seriously sexist nonsense, particularly considering that these two originate from a time when women were considered property and had very few rights. In the poem Le dit de Bigorne (The Words of Bigorne), he is accosted by a husband so desperate to get away from his bitchy wife that he begs the monster to eat him, and the monster complains that he is still working on its last meal, although it does eventually agree to eat him and asks him not to fart or piss in his mouth while it’s doing so, because people have always found bodily functions hilarious.
That’s it for this episode of Myths Your Teacher Hated. Keep up with new episodes on our Facebook page, on iTunes, on Stitcher, on TuneIn, and on Spotify, or you can follow us on Twitter as @HardcoreMyth and on Instagram as Myths Your Teacher Hated Pod. You can also find news and episodes on our website at myths your teacher hated dot com. If you like what you’ve heard, I’d appreciate a review on iTunes. These reviews really help increase the show’s standing and let more people know it exists. If you have any questions, any gods or monsters you’d want to learn about, or any ideas for future stories that you’d like to hear, feel free to drop me a line. I’m trying to pull as much material from as many different cultures as possible, but there are all sorts of stories I’ve never heard, so suggestions are appreciated. The theme music is by Tiny Cheese Puff, whom you can find on fiverr.com.
Next time, we’ll follow Belle as she explores her new prison home. You’ll learn that Hamlet is better with monkeys and parrots, that getting lost can be a good thing, and that you should always believe in your dreams. Then, in Gods and Monsters, you’ll meet one of the earliest versions of the annoyingly extra white lady. That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.