Back in my college days, during that communication class, I heard this term for the first time - Pygmalion effect.
It feels like centuries since then, yet here I am, still captivated by its magic, particularly the enchanting tale of Pygmalion.
I wish I still had that old textbook so that I could flip through its pages and revisit the chapter that introduced me to the Pygmalion effect and its story.
With only a fuzzy memory of the general outline of the story, I embarked on a research adventure to rediscover its complete tale, hoping to revive the joy I experienced during that wonderful time.
And this is what I could come up with.
A fastidious sculptor
Pygmalion, a renowned sculptor of unparalleled talent, possessed an astute eye that could discern nothing but flaws in every woman he encountered.
Knowing that he would never find his ideal among existing women, he deliberately chose to remain celibate and devote himself entirely to his craft.
Deep inside, however, he seemed to be unable to shake his longing to find his perfect match.
Fueled by this inner yearning, he made a resolute decision to bring his vision of perfection to life with his exceptional sculpting skills.
He then started working on creating the woman he had always seen in his mind's eye.
“She who is white like milk”
Pouring countless hours and unwavering passion into its construction, Pygmalion immersed himself completely in the creation of what would become his magnum opus.
With each stroke of his tools, the statue's features blossomed into exquisite beauty, capturing his heart and soul.
As the final touches were applied, the woman before him radiated such perfection that Pygmalion couldn't help but find himself captivated by her divine presence, unable to tear his gaze away.
Waves of joy and desire surged through his being, and in a moment of inspiration, he bestowed upon the figurine the name: “Galatea”, which means “she who is white as milk”.
Affection for his creation
Day and night, Pygmalion found himself consumed by the presence of the statue he had crafted with unwavering devotion.
His hands reached out to touch the figure, contemplating whether it could be made of living flesh rather than cold ivory.
He adamantly refused to view her as mere stone, instead imagining that his kisses upon her cold lips were reciprocated with a comforting warmth.
With tender affection, he caressed the statue, careful not to leave marks on the areas he touched, so vivid was the illusion of its reality.
Every day, he lavished the statue with gifts that he believed would please a woman, presenting it with delicate seashells, alluring beads, melodious songbirds, charming trinkets, and fragrant flowers.
He embellished the statue with exquisite attire, placing rings on her fingers, necklaces on her neck, and even earrings on her ears, all the while recognizing her inherent beauty in her natural form.
Unable to resist his longing for a deeper connection, Pygmalion engaged in daily conversations with the statue, whispering words of love and devotion.
And finally, in a gesture of intimacy, he placed the statue on a sumptuous bed adorned with plush pillows and luxurious sheets, inviting her to share his nights.
Plea to Aphrodite
The day of the festival honoring Aphrodite, the goddess of love, had arrived.
Pygmalion went to the temple to pay his due respects to the goddess and made a solemn offering.
With deep reverence, he poured out his heartfelt prayers, beseeching for the gift of life to be bestowed upon his cherished creation, Galatea.
Little did he know that his impassioned plea had caught the attention of Aphrodite herself, who was captivated by the depth of his devotion.
The goddess graced his studio with her divine presence, where she beheld the mesmerizing beauty of Galatea with awe-struck eyes.
Overwhelmed by the profound love and dedication exuded by Pygmalion's masterpiece, Aphrodite was moved to fulfill the artist's fervent desire, breathing life into the statue he held so dear.
Wish that came true
Upon returning home, Pygmalion approached his beloved Galatea.
As he tenderly caressed her cheek and pressed his lips against hers, an extraordinary event unfolded.
The lips that met his were no longer a mere illusion; they radiated warmth, exuding a lifelike sensation.
Intrigued by this newfound reality, Pygmalion continued to explore Galatea's form, and with each subsequent caress and kiss, the truth became undeniable: "It must be flesh!"
Brimming with deep gratitude, Pygmalion passionately expressed his thanks to Aphrodite, sealing his appreciation with another tender kiss upon Galatea's lips.
Now truly alive, Galatea could feel the tender kisses bestowed upon her, blushing and timidly meeting Pygmalion's gaze as she discovered the world around her.
Their connection was undeniable, as Pygmalion's gestures carried profound meaning for both of them.
Variations across versions
During my exploration of various references, I encountered different versions of Pygmalion story, each adding its own unique touch that enriched the depth and allure of the tale.
Some versions depicted Pygmalion as a king of Cyprus who discovered his sculpting talent, while others portrayed him as a renowned sculptor based in Cyprus.
The reasons behind his choice of celibacy also varied, with some versions linking it to The Propoitides or local prostitutes, and others attributing it to his dissatisfaction with the attitudes of local women.
And as I delved further into the references, I also discovered different accounts of Pygmalion's plea to Aphrodite, including one where flames shot up three times after he sacrificed a bull to the goddess.
Additionally, some versions even portrayed Galatea not as a statue, but as an image.
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I must admit that, even now, I remain uncertain about which version of the story is the original one.
But what I do know is that the one I stumbled upon in my communication textbook made a lasting impression on me.
And so, my intention in exploring various references like this in the first place was to gather ideas that would allow me to capture the essence of my cherished version.
For now, I think it's enough to reminisce about this tale.
As for the main dish - the Pygmalion effect - I'd prefer to save it for later.
There are plenty of intriguing aspects worth revisiting from my previous exploration of this fascinating phenomenon, anyway.
On the flip side - This image that I found on Google was the one used in my communication textbook to introduce Pygmalion effect. To my surprise, it turned out to be a painting by Jean-Léon Gérôme!