“…Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
Nor hath love’s mind of any judgement taste;
Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste.
And therefore is love said to be a child
Because in choice he is so oft beguiled….”
William Shakespeare from A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Cupid, God of desire and Psyche, a mortal princess, are a mythological love story that pre-dates Romeo and Juliett.
Prior to studying mythology in one of the many English classes I’ve been in, I used to think that Cupid was a slutty-type of dude. This was mostly based on my intrepreation of his devilish, boyish-smirk, ALWAYS naked body and wings to fly, fly, fly away whenever he wanted. And to my slutty Cupid point, somewhere in the life of Cupid and the world of mythology, Cupid acquired his bow and arrow that represents his source of power: “a person, or even a deity, who is shot by Cupid’s arrow is filled with uncontrollable desire.” Wikipedia
That kind of slutty-type of Cupid is the kind of guy you can have a good time with, but shouldn’t expect a call from him the next day, let alone breakfast in the morning. Keep in mind, his wings were made for flying and that’s just what he’d do: fly right into the bed of the next person he set his arrow on being with. He is Californication’s Hank Moody of Cupids
This was my own intrepretation of Cupid, until I learned from studying the classics that he accidentally poisoned his heart with his own arrow and he was forever in love with Psyche. For some reading this that didn’t know that, or forgot – yes, it’s true, or fiction, or mythology, or…so the story goes.
We’re celebrating Valentine’s Day this week, so let’s examine what the tip of Cupid’s arrow was poisoned with: uncontrollable desire for just a moment. I suppose I’ve been involved with the modern day slutty- type of Cupid now and again in past years. And each Valentine’s Day that approached, or really any celebrated holiday, I hoped it was my heart he chose to shoot his arrow into and not another damsel, or two, or three. Is it pointless to say that I was always disappointed with the slutty-type of Cupid? There was never a chocolate, nor a flower delivered to me. Hurt and angered, I swore I’d never see him again…that was until he raised his steady arm; pulled back his trusted bow and with agility and persuasion, shot his arrow with trained accuracy into the middle of my already bleeding and broken heart….
That was until one day I became stronger than him. I no longer was interested in his sweet talk, the speed of his wings, his bow, nor his arrow anymore. I was immune to his type of slutty-uncontrollable desire. I wanted something more. I wanted a real Cupid. Not a boy with a smirkish grin and a fierce aim. I wanted chocolates, flowers and breakfast in the morning. I wanted a real relationship with someone that love, uncontrollable desire and mutual respect was celebrated everyday, not just hoping for special treats on particular days, like Valentine’s Day.
This year, like last year, as I bath in the scent and visual beauty of the long-stemmed roses the real Cupid in my life sent me, I want everyone to know there are lots of slutty-type Cupids in the world and you shouldn’t settle for one them if your heart desires something more. And although my search for the perfect Cupid took longer than I had hoped, I can say that my search was thorough and like the arrow of Cupid, precise.
Happy Valentines Day
Psyche writing for Neve Black