Even the word has a sibilant, beckoning quality.
It’s a delicious word. One to be licked from the skin; a pleasure to hood one’s eyes to, to arch the back.
Free your mind of Hollywood’s stereotype, because what I’m talking about here is the true Siren. The woman who, no matter what she looks like, has that innate fire which sparks interest in any room she walks into.
She’ll either be loved for it, or jealously reviled.
And doesn’t care which.
Because she knows she has that sparkle, and nothing–nothing–can extinguish it.
“Seductress.” Taken from Women Who Ravished the World and Their Lost Art of Love by Betsy Prioleau. It was the “Lost” part of the title I was worried about, and it gave me pause.
Is the Art of Love truly lost?
Edourd Schure said, “[In prehistory] women dominated man. She was a fascinating magician before whom his soul trembled…From her sprang poetry, music, and all the arts.” (Prioleau).
So, where is our Creativity? Are we so caught up in Commercialism we’ve lost touch with our panache; that vigor for creativity and vibrant chutzpah. Are we cookie cut-outs of the industry and what it markets at that given time?
And where are these men who once worshiped us?
Have they become too frightened during our quest for equality they’ve dropped their ball(s), so to speak?
Yet, we are not equal. I no more want to be a man than he wants to be a woman. Like milk and Oreos, we are separate entities, but undeniably go together. Mash the two and you get unworkable goo.
Unless you handle it right. Then you get ice cream. A blend of erogenous yummm. Sure to hold up under the licking of any fiery woman and her lover with the balls to take her in hand, or…
I’ll leave you alone with the image.
Resurrected in a niche of women not afraid to proclaim their natural-given talents, and shout to the world “I am a Romance Novelist/Reader!”
These individuals have unearthed the primal woman and her man; they have brushed off the proverbial dust and have reminded us that “You don’t have to be born beautiful to be wildly attractive.” (Diana Vreeland/Prioleau) and “Tis Woman that seduces all mankind.” (John Gay/Prioleau)
Enthusiasts of the Romance genre are the true Sirens, whose flames we warm ourselves to time and time again. They “Do as the goddesses did.” (Ovid)
Or in our modern case, they light up rooms and every stultified heart within it.