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| Children believe what we tell them. They have complete faith in us. They believe that a rose plucked from a garden can bring drama to a family. They believe that the hands of a human beast will smoke when he kills a victim, and that this beast will be shamed when confronted by a young boy. They believe in a thousand other simple things. I ask of you a little of this childlike simplicity, and to bring us luck, let me speak four truly magical words, a childhood's Open Sesame: "Once upon a time..." Jean Cocteau, from the introduction to the film "La belle et la bête" |
| Le Beau et la Bête A remix of Jean Cocteau's film "La Belle et la Bête" Once upon a time when the forests were still endless, dangerous, and populated by strange creatures, and when moon and stars were the only light at night, a merchant and his son were on their way home from the coast. With high hopes they had departed that morning, for news had been brought that two of the merchant's ships had arrived with rich cargo. But when the father and his son reached the port they discovered that the merchants' creditors had already taken possession of the goods, leaving them to return with empty hands. The merchant was desperate. How quickly the tides had turned? Earlier that morning he had promised his daughters splendid presents: silk robes, pearls, fans and ostrich feathers. Now they could not even afford to stay the night at a guesthouse. "Oh, Orlando," said the merchant. "What is to become of us now? These two ships were our last hope. We are ruined." "Take heart, Father," said the son. "I am sure I can find work to support our household and my sisters will be happy and content with our safe return.” "Alas, my dear boy, do you remember the presents I promised them?" the father sighed. "How I had wanted to bestow upon them dowries that match their beauty. And you should live like a prince instead of having to toil to support your family." "Maybe luck will return at last," the son replied hopefully. "Perhaps we shall find a way to change our misfortune, Father. But first, let's go home." This was easier said than done. The evening had already cast its shadows on the forest. With each passing minute it was getting darker and darker under the trees and soon the path vanished somewhere in the murky twilight. Shortly after, they realized that they had lost their way. "Oh, how I wish we had reached our village already," the father complained. "We have been up since dawn and I am so weary." "Let us go just a little farther,” the son said. “Methinks I can see some light ahead of us. Perhaps there is a clearing in the forest where it will be easier to tell where we are." So they rode on and to their relief the son had been right. The forest gradually gave way to a wide open space where a magnificent château rose before them, its pale-white spires and turrets shimmering mysteriously in the moonlight. |
| The father frowned. "I have never heard of this château before. I have no idea where we could be. But I fear we are farther away from home than we thought." "Perhaps the Master of this place can give us shelter for tonight. At daylight it will be easier to find the way back. Come then, let us see whether we can find someone here." The old man agreed right away for the long ride had tired him greatly. The broad entrance way was lined on both sides by rose bushes and neatly trimmed hedges. The horse stable doors stood wide open. But neither servants nor any other inhabitants of the château could be seen anywhere. Nevertheless, the weary travellers dismounted, unsaddled their horses and led them to the stables where plenty of water and hay were waiting for them; almost as if someone had expected their arrival. Yet everything remained silent. Slowly they ascended the broad staircase leading up to the main entrance, looking around timidly. A magnificent stone coat of arms hung above the entrance, showing a mythical creature with a long tail and a majestic lion's head, the body taut and ready to leap at any moment. "That is odd," the old man murmured. "I have never seen this coat of arms before. I wonder which noble family resides here." The son, too, felt uneasy; an eerie silence hung over the place – as if time stood still. Nervously, he peered up at the château, half-expecting to see someone standing at one of the many windows. The château gate was wide open, but no servants were present. Silently, father and son entered and before them stretched a long corridor lit by peculiar candelabra on the walls. With amazement they noticed that human arms held each candelabrum or so it seemed. Skilled fingers lit one candle after the other, casting a circle of light around the travellers as they walked on. Between the marble pillars, paintings could be seen and further down were doors partly hidden behind heavy, red velvet curtains. Slowly the merchant and his son walked down the corridor, still uncertain whether it had been wise to enter here. At that moment, the château gate fell closed with a loud noise. Immediately, they both winced. "It appears someone wishes us to stay," the son stated with a muffled voice. "And I wish that someone would come to greet us. I dislike like this uncanny silence." Soon they entered a vast hall. In here, numerous candelabra were also lit and a fire was merrily burning away in a huge fireplace. In front of the fireplace, a table had been set with fine porcelain and silver ware. Two chairs stood there, inviting them to sit down. "What a peculiar sense of hospitality," said the old man. "The table has been laid, but apparently only for two? I won't complain though; even if our host is lacking in courtesy, he is most generous." And it was true; plenty of mouth-watering dishes, carefully arranged on silver plates, were already waiting for them. At the sight of such a feast, the merchant and his son tarried no more. Nodding at each other, they sat down and started to eat heartily. The food was delicious and a fine wine was to be had too. But what astounded them most was that as soon as they had emptied their plates and goblets, magic hands appeared from the candelabra in the middle of the table to replenish their food and drink. The longer they wined and dined, the merrier they grew. "Such a magic table would be quite to my liking," the old man laughed. "I wish we had one too. Imagine how delighted your sisters would be!" Soon they chatted merrily about the old times and almost felt at home. They did not notice the glances that were directed at them. The marble busts, supporting each end of the vast mantelpiece, slowly turned their heads, following each of their movements. But as lively as their discussion was, at some point their eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and finally they fell asleep in the comfortable armchairs. They slept soundly all night. The noises from outside, fast steps and eerie howls, did not creep into their dreams. The next morning they woke to birds singing and the sun shone brightly through the high windows. "Wake up, Father! The sun is already high in the sky," the son cried. The hall lay just as quiet as the evening before, but there was something in the air that made him feel uneasy. As if someone was watching them. How careless we were last night, drinking all the wine and then falling asleep in here, Orlando thought with growing anxiety. This could well have been a trap set up for naive travellers. We could have easily been murdered in our sleep. He rose from his chair. "We should make for our home as quickly as possible." Stretching his stiff limbs, the father stood up too. "Right, my boy. Your sisters will be awfully worried already. Let us depart swiftly." Hastily, they ran back to the entrance. Like the evening before, no one else could be seen, and again the castle gate stood wide open. Quickly, they walked down the broad stairs and had almost reached the stables when the father remembered what he had promised his youngest daughter. "I do not care for pearls or precious dresses," the girl had said when kissing her father good-bye. "I only want a rose. A beautiful white rose." The merchant stopped. “Wait, Orlando. I have forgotten something. You get our horses ready while I shall go back for it.” And with that he ran off into the park. Entering the stable the son found the steeds already brushed and saddled for them. He shook his head. How strange, he thought. "The sooner we leave this place, the better," he whispered, feeding the horses apples he had brought from the château's rich tables. The next moment the father appeared again, holding up a wonderful white rose. "Here we go," he cried happily. Suddenly a terrible roar rose behind them. Terrified, they turned around and there at last, they beheld him, the Master of this place. |
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