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GalateaMinji KwonOnce upon a time, there was a marble statue. The graceful goddess of beauty and love breathed life into it, and the statue became a human; its marble face turned as pink as cherry blossoms; its cold lips breathed out spring sweet air. Its dull eyes sparkled with life, and its heart was softened. In front of the woman, there was a rejoicing man. He touched her hands and her arms again and again. He mumbled praise for the goddess of love. He grabbed her shoulders and kissed her warm lips passionately. He did not realize that he had not wished for her to have a soul, but only for her to be alive to have a beating heart. The soulless woman didn’t push him away. Just as she accepted the result of his granted prayer, she accepted the warmth of his hands and lips. The man was the creator of the statue and the lover of the woman; his name was Pygmalion. She was the creation and the beloved of the man; her name was Galatea. “I love you. Marry me,” said Pygmalion to Galatea. She silently looked at his eyes, but she showed no emotion. Pygmalion was terrified by her lack of response. She was supposed to cry with joy and throw herself into his arms. He had longed for this moment for a long time, but something was wrong. “Marry me,” he said again. Pygmalion forcefully grabbed her arms, but she only stared at his hands with a hint of surprise as she felt discomfort from pain. She simply did not understand what was happening. Pygmalion finally realized what was wrong; she was like a breathing statue. She had a warm body, but that was all she had; she did not have a soul. She neither spoke nor understood things around her. He had imagined what she would be like if she became human, but the woman he had imagined and loved and the woman in front of him were different. The woman was supposed to love him and to be loved by him. He was disappointed, but he thought it was a temporary state. He thought she would learn as time passed by. “I can teach you,” said he. He gave her a short silent stare and then a gentle hug. “You are different from other women. You will be perfect.” Pygmalion started to teach Galatea how to behave, bur he was an arrogant man. He did not understand that creating a statue and creating a person with a soul were very different things. Only the gods could give a soul. For Galatea to have a soul, he needed a miracle, just as he had needed one for her to start breathing. He did not have much time. As soon as she had come to life, he had told the townspeople that he was going to get married to her. He could not let other people see that there was anything amiss. There was only one place for him to ask for mercy, the temple of the goddess of beauty and love. He went there and kneeled to pray for another miracle; he wanted Galatea to have a soul. “Didn’t I grant your wish already? I turned her into a human,” said Aphrodite from behind him. When Pygmalion opened his eyes and turned, Aphrodite was right in front of him. “She is alive, but she doesn’t have a soul,” he said. “Her beating heart and sweet breath are the only signs of her life.”“Who are you to define the soul?” asked Aphrodite. “How do you know whether she has a soul or not?” “If she had a soul, she would not be as emotionless as she is now. She would love me if she had one,” said Pygmalion. “She can’t even talk. I want her to have a soul. I also want her to be modest and obedient, just as I have always dreamed of.” “How could modesty and obedience be signs of a soul?” Aphrodite was frustrated by this wish of Pygmalion. “I want her to be all that I dreamed,” begged Pygmalion. “I know you have the power to grant my wish.” But Aphrodite did not like his wish. Pygmalion’s love for Galatea no longer seemed as genuine to her. She did not want to admit that she was wrong however, so she decided to grant his new wish. Aphrodite walked up to Galatea and kissed her forehead. “This is the last wish I will grant for you.” Aphrodite said to Pygmalion, then she disappeared like the mist in the air. “I don’t need another wish,” said Pygmalion and turned to Galatea. “How are you feeling?” asked Pygmalion. He anxiously waited for her answer. “You look worried. What’s wrong?” said Galatea. Her concern showed that his wish was granted. Pygmalion smiled, satisfied. He finally had what he wanted: a breathing Galatea with a soul. “Smile, Galatea, Smile.” Pygmalion put his thumbs on each end of her lips and gently raised them. Galatea smiled as he said. She was beautiful as a goddess. “Tomorrow, you will be the most beautiful bride the town has ever seen,” said Pygmalion as he gently kissed her hair. Galatea blushed and smiled. The wedding was the next day.The goddess of love blessed them and their marriage. Everyone in the town came to their wedding and congratulated the newlyweds. They were sure that only a bright future would lie ahead of the couple. But, no one paid enough attention to the absence of Hera, the goddess of marriage.The townsfolks busily praised how pretty the bride was, but only a few of them believed that Galatea was the statue Pygmalion had loved. These people were not faithful enough to the goddess Aphrodite to believe in her generosity. Townsfolks gossiped about the possible origin of the beautiful bride. “Where is she from? Do you know?” asked one of the neighbors. “I don’t know,” said another. “He says that the statue turned into a real woman by Aphrodite, but that can’t be true. Right? They do look alike, though. I mean, the statue and his bride.” “We are too smart to believe in that supposed miracle,” a man started to laugh. “It is really odd, though,” said an old man. “Remember how strange he used to be? He called every woman needy and evil.” “She is gorgeous, though,” said a young man. “Who could resist her? I wouldn’t be surprised if she were the goddess herself.” They all agreed that the bride was too beautiful. There was no flaw on her face or shape. “I’m glad that you like my wife,” Pygmalion said coldly from behind them; it was like an ambush. “Oh, we were just talking about your gorgeous wife,” said the young man hurriedly. “Seriously, is she related to the goddess?” He scanned Galatea up and down with his eyes. Pygmalion was disturbed by the man’s obvious interest in Galatea, but he told himself that they were just jealous of him for having a beautiful wife. The young man walked toward Galatea and started to praise her. From her silky hair to the marble white feet- there was no single part of her body that he did not praise. She felt uncomfortable with his comments, but she was too obedient and kind to leave him. She smiled and thanked him. “Can I kiss your hand?” said the young man. Galatea blushed from embarrassment. She did not know how to reject him. However, when he was reaching for her hand, Pygmalion took her wrist and hid her behind him. “Thank you for your excessive favor for my wife,” he said. “But don’t tease her too much. It would break my heart to see her cry.” Pygmalion was angry, and his anger was reflected in the pressure on Galatea’s wrist. Her pale wrist turned pink, but Pygmalion did not let her go. Instead, he made an announcement: “Thank you, everyone, for coming to our wedding. I would like to enjoy this beautiful day with my wife now. Please excuse us, and help yourself to food.” Pygmalion turned and dragged Galatea to his house. Despite the continuous pain on her wrist, Galatea smiled, just as Pygmalion taught her. People laughed and talked about how Pygmalion was madly in love with his new wife. But unlike the people’s talk, Pygmalion became madly angry rather than madly in love with her. “Why didn’t you reject him?” Pygmalion urged Galatea. “I didn’t know what to do,” said Galatea. “What would you have done if I hadn’t interrupted him? You would have let him kiss your hand!” Pygmalion cornered her. Galatea reminded him of the faithless nature of the women. Obedient Galatea kneeled on the floor and begged for forgiveness. He locked Galatea in the house; he could not let her be like other women- sly and unfaithful beings. It was not hard for people to realize that Pygmalion locked his wife in the house. They thought he was too protective, but they did not care too much. After all, it was none of their business. Time passed by, and Galatea started to age just like any other human. She was still beautiful, but she was more like an elegant madam than a youthful maiden. Her beauty and grace could not hide the marks of the passage of time. She gracefully accepted the change in her, but Pygmalion didn’t. Despite the fact that she had lived as a human for a long time, Pygmalion still looked at her as his creation. He stopped spending time with Galatea. Instead, he started to drink and follow Dionysus. “Hail Bacchus!” His day started and ended with a bottle or two of wine.One day, he opened Galatea’s room. He had not seen her since he found wrinkle around her eyes. He no longer had any affection for Aphrodite’s gift. When he opened the room, he saw an aged woman; she was no longer the woman he had carved her to be. It was an inevitable sort of change. No human could stay young and beautiful forever. However, Pygmalion lost his temper. He was furious. “You! You have insulted my art!” he said. The beauty of Galatea was his pride. His creature had to be perfect. ‘It is Aphrodite’s fault,’ thought Pygmalion. Unlike the woman in front of him, his statue had been perfect. Looking at the imperfect figure of Galatea made him angry. He wanted his statue back. He prayed to Aphrodite so he could have his statue back. However, Aphrodite kept her words, and did not answer his prayer. No matter how hard he prayed, there was no sign of Aphrodite. ‘Maybe she would listen to my words if I go to her temple,’ thought Pygmalion. He packed bottles of wine and some bread with him. It would take at least three days to go to Aphrodite’s temple. He locked the door and walked to Aphrodite’s temple. He did not forget his wine. Celebrating for Dionysus had become a big part of Pygmalion’s life. Just as he expected, it took him three days. His trip would have been shorter if he had not staggered from intoxication. With a half-empty bottle of wine in his hand, Pygmalion pushed himself to Aphrodite’s temple.“You cannot do this. Intoxicated men are not allowed in the temple,” the priestess said. “Please be respectful to Aphrodite.” The priestess tried to stop him, but Pygmalion was too strong for her. With one swing of his empty hand, he knocked the priestess to the floor. The younger priestesses hid behind a pillar of the temple in fear. No one ever had been violent in the temple, which was a symbol and house of the goddess. Being disrespectful in the temple was not much different from asking for punishment. “Where is our mighty Aphrodite?” Pygmalion staggered around the temple. Then, finally, he found the statue of Aphrodite. “Mighty Aphrodite, here is my gift for your highness,” said Pygmalion as he poured some wine on the statue. The priestesses around him looked at him with horror. “What are you doing?” The oldest priestess yelled at Pygmalion. “What do you think? I am giving my offerings to her!” said Pygmalion. “Hail Bacchus! Not Bacchus, Hail, Aphrodite!” said Pygmalion. The priestesses around him were speechless. They did not know how to react to the awful scene. Pygmalion was so intoxicated that he could not even stand still. “Stop talking to me,” he said. “I need to talk to Aphrodite. Dear Aphrodite, I just came here to say you need to take your gift away. You insulted my creature! The statue I created was the perfect woman! You have made her a crone. I want you to put her back to who she was: A perfect marble statue that I created. ” Pygmalion drank the leftover wine in his hand. The priestesses knew that their beautiful goddess would be furious with this intoxicated foolish man. They feared for him. Aphrodite saw the whole scene from Mt. Olympus; it did not take her long to go to her temple. She was angry and offended by the foolish man. “You fool!” Aphrodite appeared in front of Pygmalion and said. “Haven’t I told you that it was your last wish? I granted all your wishes. But you don’t deserve it!” The priestesses in the temple kneeled down on the floor and shivered. They knew that it was best to not look at her to avoid her fury. Only Pygmalion stood in front of Aphrodite unstably, looking at the goddess. Aphrodite swiftly moved her hand, and Pygmalion and Aphrodite were back in his house. Galatea came down from her bed and kneeled down to show her respect to Aphrodite. It seemed as she already knew Pygmalion’s new wish. Aphrodite saw Galatea, and sympathy flickered in her eyes. “Turn that old woman back into the statue. I don’t want your gift anymore.” Pygmalion pointed his finger at poor Galatea. Aphrodite stared at him with contempt. Then she spoke gently, although there was anger in her voice. “Let me give a gift to you, my dear Galatea,” said Aphrodite with a graceful smile. “A statue of a man that looks just like your husband.” As Aphrodite finished her sentence, Pygmalion started to feel numb in his toes. “What are you talking about? I was talking to you, not…!” Pygmalion could not finish his sentence. He was turned into a marble statue. “You won’t be able to sleep, or to speak,” said Aphrodite. “Your foul and disrespectful mouth would be better silent.” Pygmalion wanted to say something, but he could not even blink his eyes. “I won’t take your mind away,” she said. “You will be conscious of your doom. But I will give you a way out of this. If Galatea loves and values you as much as you did the statue, you will be a human again. I’d suggest you pray to your favorite god for a miracle now. Hail Bacchus!” And then Aphrodite disappeared. Galatea raised her head and looked at the statue. The statue that once was her husband stood still on the floor. She slowly raised herself up from the floor, and walked toward the statue. She lifted up her heels and kissed the lips of the cold statue. She started to shed tears, but she did not know why. Was it for the loss of her husband, or for the gain of her freedom? Was it from the sorrow, or from joy? After a long sob, she walked toward the door. She had not left the house since the wedding. She had been too scared to leave the house. She grabbed the door knob and turned to open the door. The sunshine pierced her eyes. She turned her head for the last look at the statue and walked out of the door. Only the sound of the closing door echoed through the house. ................
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