Callum Quinn, © 2019
Beauty
By Robin McKinley
This (a) story is a tale as old as time. I’m sure you’re at least somewhat familiar with it.
Beauty is a bookish young woman who has lived all her life in the city with her father and her two beautiful older sisters. But when their father’s business is struck by tragedy, the family loses everything they have and is forced to move far away, out into the countryside. At first it is a struggle, but soon they warm up to their new life, and Beauty especially feels suited to the harsher, yet more modest ways of living.
However, everything changes when their father returns home one cold night, brandishing a beautiful rose and telling tales of a strange castle deep in the woods, and a hideous beast who spared his life on one horrible condition.
Being the one who’d asked for a rose, Beauty believes it is her responsibility to return to the Beast’s castle in her father’s place. Once there, however, a prisoner of her own free will, she finds that the Beast is not as monstrous as she’d been led to believe. In fact, as time passes at the castle, she develops a liking for the Beast, and an enjoyment of his company. And as she grows to trust and even love him, Beauty’s own vision of the world around her begins to change, and they both end up forever transformed in more ways than one.
You’d think the (A) story is quite clear: it’s the heart that really matters. Beauty is found within, etc.
However, in this retelling the message seems to be muddled. Or, at least, put in a way that’s more subtly felt than in most versions. I’m not sure. I’m still thinking it through.
Instead of the usual “beauty is found within” axiom, the story of Beauty seems to look past the obvious and open us up to the magic of perception in general. When Beauty travels back through the forest with her father, he looks upon it with understandable dread. But in spite of what is about to happen to her, the unknown she is about to face, Beauty sees the forest for what it is: something quiet, serene. And beautiful. She tells him, “This is a good forest,” and he praises her bravery, though bravery has nothing to do with her comment. Even when she comes to the castle she describes the color of the gray stones in the setting sun like “a dolphin’s back at dawn.” It is not sinister to her. It is big, dark, and empty—and then, she remembers, not quite so empty—but it doesn’t utterly terrify her. Though she is rightfully nervous, she still takes the time to look around and enjoy the wonders of the castle.
Clearly from the beginning Beauty has the potential to see things that others don’t. This is made more apparent later in the story when her perception is literally altered and she begins to see and hear things in the castle that she normally shouldn’t.
But the theme of perception occurs in other ways throughout the story. There’s Beauty’s horse, Greatheart, who was gifted to her by a friend after her family lost everything. He is a finely bred stallion, and Beauty believes he should be ridden by a king, not by her. She thinks he shouldn’t be pulling a plow on her family’s farm. But Greatheart is happy, and doesn’t know the difference. As an animal, he has no concept of breeding or status, and after feeling the horse’s “loss of dignity” for him, she soon realizes this.
There’s also Beauty herself, who believes she is unattractive, in spite of the reassurances of her family. When she meets the Beast for the first time, she wonders if he’d felt misled by her “foolish” nickname, and he tells her it suits her. Later, when she protests yet again, he asks, “And since I am the only one who sees you, why are you not then beautiful?” She finds this question hard to answer.
Instead of “Beauty is found within,” the message here seems to read, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” And for those who find no difference between the two: I’m going to assume you’re not a writer.
For beauty to be found within there’s more of a reliance on the subject’s personality, the soul behind the ‘mask’; for beauty to be in the eye of the beholder, there’s a heavier reliance on the personality of whoever is viewing the subject.
For instance: does the Beast need to learn patience and kindness from Beauty in order to bring out the heart of gold that was always lying hidden beneath the surface? Well, no. In this version, the Beast is already a gentleman, despite the horrible first impression with her father. He is kind to Beauty and makes sure she is as comfortable as possible. Except for becoming upset in a couple more severe circumstances he is patient, and even in those moments he is never impatient with Beauty herself.
No, in this version, a lot of the pressure is actually put on Beauty to see the Beast as anything other than a beast. At the start of their relationship, even in his kindness she resists imagining him as fully ‘good.’ When he mentions sending gifts—instead of money—back to her family, in her mind she refers to his wealth as ‘blood money,’ as if he could only have accumulated it through shady means.
While in most modern versions of this story it is the Beast who needs to learn to love, it is revealed in Beauty that he loves her instantly; it is Beauty who needs to learn to love the Beast, and it seems that as a side note she needs to learn to love herself as well.
This was always another favorite book of mine to get lost in the pages of. I’ve probably read it three or four times since I first brought it home, and at this point the spine definitely shows the wear and tear of many reads.
However, during this read-through I found the book to be slightly less perfect than I remembered. Whether it’s because I’ve changed so much since I last read it, or so many creative writing classes have taught me to be extra critical of everything I read, is unclear. But I’m sorry to say there are a few things I found rubbing me the wrong way this time around.
First of all, there’s a bit of an ‘ick’ factor in this one. In Beauty’s opening narration she describes how her father was forty when he married her mother, who was only seventeen at the time. Also (and I may have missed actual ages being mentioned in the book, but), I estimate Beauty to be maybe a year or two older than sixteen, and the Beast to be in his late thirties or early forties by the end of the story.
But what bothered me most, at least for the first couple chapters, was Beauty’s personality. I remembered her as being the typical “Belle” character: smart, bookish, and kind. And Beauty is definitely these things, but while she lived in the city and kept herself surrounded by books I found myself thinking her a little too needlessly smart, lingering more on the pretentious side, actually.
However, again, once the family moved out to the countryside this impression of her seemed to vanish. And this change in character could very well be yet another example of what a change in perspective can do.
Also, I always felt the ending is a bit rushed. Everything seems to be happening all at once and there isn’t really time for feelings to be explored or acquaintances to be officially made, or details to really be explained. I want to see a little more of Beauty’s reaction to her Beast when he is a man. On top of that, I want to feel some joy or relief from the Beast at being a man again, but like I said, the transformation is kind of glanced over.
And, of course, the last and the biggest thing that always bothered me a little, even when I read it for the first time: Beauty really is beautiful. Not to say that I wanted her to be “ugly”, or even plain. I always knew she was beautiful whether or not she believed it herself. But here’s where the problem arises: once the Beast turns into a prince again and she discovers how handsome he his, her first thought is that she can’t marry him; he’s too good-looking. He should be marrying a queen or a duchess, not her. Then, when she finally looks in a mirror and realizes she’s grown a bit and has come into good looks herself, everything’s fine. She can marry him after all.
So, basically, after EVERYTHING she’s been through, she still believes that beautiful people should be with beautiful people, and “ugly” people are better off with “ugly” people; that it’s not what’s on the inside that matters; that beauty is in the eye of society and not the eye of the beholder. She’s not able to just look at herself and realize that she’s happy to be who she is because she is in love and has someone who loves her; she has to look in the mirror and physically see that she is, in fact, beautiful, and worth loving. Basically, she’s learned nothing. And that’s kind of upsetting from the main character, especially in a Beauty and the Beast story.
And that is the main reason why I feel the message is a little muffled in this retelling. On the one hand, you would expect the traditional take on it, that outside appearances don’t matter as long as the inside is something worthwhile. Yet we get this ending where our main character at first refuses to be with her love because she’s not pretty enough for him. This one scene alone sets the whole message a little off course.
It’s a little disappointing in that regard, but do I hate it? I think by now you can guess my answer: of course not. There’s still plenty to enjoy in Beauty. The people and places in this story are vivid and full of color and the overall atmosphere remains enchanting for much of the book. And except for a few minor issues here and there, the characters are charming and memorable, and I’ve grown as fond of the family and the Beast as Beauty is herself. I am confident in stating that it is still one of my favorite stories to get lost in. I would recommend giving it a read and deciding how you feel about it for yourself.
