I keep thinking about the cruel arbitrariness of the back story—how a beautiful fairy shows up dressed as a hag, and the prince is disgusted and throws her out. OK, so judging people by their appearances is not a good thing, but to use it as a pretense for turning a guy into a hideous monster makes me want to kick the fairy’s ass.

I’m thinking that what really happened was that the Beast caused his own curse. I can see it now. The fairy is someone he had fallen in love with, but because he never really loved himself, he has no way of winning her heart, and he slowly turns into the beast he imagined himself to be. Because shit like that tends to happen around fairies, you know? Latent death-wishes have a way of becoming reality sometimes.

The fairy—who just doesn’t see the Beast in that way, because, well, he’s kind of shallow and harbors way too much self-loathing, you know?—can’t do anything to undo the curse, except she realizes and tells him that he’s got to love himself before he can love anyone else.

Because just being friends with someone whom you’re hopelessly in love with is way too painful, the Beast and the fairy end up parting ways, and there he is, brooding in his castle, sadder than ever because there’s no way anyone is going to love him the way he is.

Of course, as the kingdom decays and because they didn’t have the Internet or Snopes in those days, everyone thinks the fairy actually cursed him, and uses the story as a way to scare the crap out of their kids.

Talk about pseudo-autobiographical. Sheesh.