of the humpback melting into a mermaid
dancing in a white gown, tail fins
discreetly tucked into satin slippers.

I told her of the wildebeest, of how it
transformed, leaping into the shaded grove
and sprinting out again a unicorn.

I told her the details meant only
for coaxing smiles. I left out
the part about how, beneath it all,
she hadn’t changed.

Celaeno was born, after all,
not transfigured.

—
Note: The characters I imagine in this are Iris and Celaeno. Iris is speaking of her sister, Celaeno (one of the three harpies in Greek mythology), but I think the Gorgon, Euryale, might better represent the ugliness within people which superficial, outward changes (such as plastic surgery) cannot eradicate.

11/17/07 — odd how simple a problem can be fixed if one just stares at it long enough. While exchanging the name Celaeno with the more general term “harpies” doesn’t necessarily clarify the speaker, it does tie the mythical elements together (I think) better.

Many of the transformation stories throughout mythology (i.e. the beauties turned ugly) seem to stem from aging: she was born beautiful, but she died a whithered old hag. It’s the gods’ fault, right? Otherwise, how could someone so young and beautiful end up looking like that (say, for example: Charybdis)? So, it seems only natural they’d (the ancient civilizations) blame “ugliness” on the gods. Physical transformation, in the modern sense, has become commonplace and it starts when we’re young, right after our adult teeth grow in (crooked). I’m sure there are other “deformities” before we establish adult teeth, but changing our appearance and “fighting the signs of aging” are a constant, especially for girls and women.