Pygmalion

Some of the coed students in Professor Higgins' Sculpture 101 class regard him as a sexist or, as Amanda Blake describes him, as if she were living back in the sixties, "a male sexist pig." He does have an eye for the ladies, I'll grant you that (he's ogled me enough times!), but what man doesn't who isn't gay or dead?

Amanda's suspicions of Professor Higgins' sexism were confirmed (for her) when, as our final art project, he assigned us the task of sculpting our respective ideas of The Perfect Woman. I decided to have a little fun with Amanda.

As a woman myself, who is, if I may say so without being labeled narcissistic, a true beauty, I resent feminists' arrogant assumption that anyone who has a cunt between her legs is, ipso facto, going to agree with women libbers' extremist views regarding men, sexism, the dreaded Patriarchy, and similar subjects. In my opinion, if anyone's sexist, anymore, it's the lesbo feminists. Sculpting my idea of The Perfect Woman was just the way to stick it to Amanda. To annoy her even more, I'd call my masterpiece "Galatea."

When we unveil our final projects at the end of the semester, which is only a few weeks away, we must provide a brief oral report as to how and why we chose to create our particular versions of the ideal woman. In presenting my figure to my classmates (and to Professor Higgins, of course), I'd recount the myth of Pygmalion, explaining how an ancient Greek sculptor created a lovely ivory portrait of The Perfect Woman, naming her Galatea, only to fall in love with his own creation.

Seeing that the local women prostituted themselves, Pygmalion had no interest in the fair sex--until he created Galatea. She was so beautiful that he simply had to have her. Venus, taking pity upon him, answered his prayers, bringing the ivory image to life. Sculptor and sculpture married, sculpting a child together, as it were, whom they named Paphos.

I might also include a reference or two to the alleged theological and psychological significance of the myth.