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10 Jul 2025
Matt
Cariello
Full
Moon
Beauty and the Beast
After various versions of La Belle et La Bete,
but mostly Mme de Villeneuve’s 1740 retelling
Once in a pond of time with very good teeth
I prowled the forest of recrimination
and was sorry for having eaten the governor
but he was salty with fear and conviction.
But when she was sad for the cost of the rose
her father stole, I pitied and imprisoned her
because after all I am a beast, but not that kind.
(Cocteau imagined me like his lover Jean Marais,
who in a certain light looks like Apollo, in another light,
like a wolf.) I never liked the ending: smooth cheeks,
new shoes, fireworks, string quartets, peonies,
a banquet with all the guests. I even laugh. But see –
she trembles that the beast is gone when all we ever
wanted was a corridor lit with torches forever.
Behind the poem...
There have been many versions of La Belle et La Bete (Beauty and the Beast) since it was first written down by Gabrielle-Suzanne de Villeneuve in 1740. All of them end with the beast returning to human form – a disappointing concession to reality. I wanted to write a version that wasn’t about seeing ‘beauty within’, but about loving the wild thing because it’s wild; about realising that, although losing wildness may be inevitable, it’s also sad. There must’ve been a point in that happy ending when Belle and Beast both realised there was no going back.