DAVID 549
One of my favorite Frank Frazetta images shows a hunky, black-haired jungle god, clad only in the tiniest of loin cloths, being held by two naked Amazons as he is presented to, as the title of the work states, “La, of Opar.” Now of course for me the sight of bare breasts and naked woman loins sparks about the same reaction I get when I see a spider and to all my female fans I want to say I certainly don’t mean that in a mean way. It’s just the way I’m wired. So when looking at this particular Frazetta work, I have to train my eyes to only look at certain areas. Like the guy. It’s also fun to look at the image and revel in the fact that, unlike so many of Frazetta’s illustrations, the person being objectified as a sexual plaything is a man, not only by Queen La but to some extent by Frazetta as well.
So many times the hero has been presented to s supreme ruler and sexual urges then run rampant, not so often in the hero, because he’s usually either betrothed or just too pure to have those kinds of thoughts. But the authority figure…aha! That’s another story; Tarzan to the Queen of Opar or the Great White Hunter, Flash Gordon to Ming the Merciless, Hercules to the Evil Queen in every Italian Sword and Sandal movie, Batman to Cat Woman, the list goes on.
Just recently, I’ve been reading essays on the sexual objectification of the hero in all its subtle and blatant ways. I find it very interesting. So many women, and a fair amount of men, respond quite vehemently stating that male heroes are not objectified in the same way as women. What I find even more interesting is that these passionate responses are from women who seem fortress-like in their intent to never acknowledge or relinquish control of their sexual desire, and men who are perfectly straight. Often these guys will state “Superman is NOT objectified like Wonder Woman is!”
I agree. Superman is not objectified the same way. But who has the killer body? Who has the handsome face? Who wears the skin tight clothing? Who, although he’s wearing blue tights, covers up his loins with red shorts, thereby drawing attention to that area? Where is that big, iconic “S” symbol? Is it on his shoulder? Is it worn like a badge? Is it on his belt buckle? No. It’s spread clear across that massive, rippling chest that strains that thin, blue fabric. And, as someone pointed out, who’s the sex symbol, who’s the physical specimen in Action Comics #1? It’s not Lois Lane.
I don’t think straight guys can really appreciate how men can be objectified. A fully dressed guy with just an inch of chest hair showing through two open buttons at the top of his shirt might seem as sexy as a rock to a straight guy, but that barely unbuttoned shirt is like a drug to me.
So here’s my take on the muscular hero presented to the queen of the lost city…and her eunuch high priest. I think it would go something like this:
Bilali struck the floor twice with his staff. From somewhere beyond, a huge gong was struck and the crowd in the throne room parted and sank to its knees as the great doors behind them swung open. The guards lowered their faces. “All hail Alhena!” Bilali shouted, as much as he high voice could manage, “…Goddess of Destruction, Daughter of Mogroth, Daughter of Ahn, Bringer of Rain and Commandress of the Earth, Daughter of the River God, All Seeing, All Knowing Priestess of the Sacred Oracle, Princess of the Sun, Conqueror of Pontiam, Nandis, and Reyn, Destroyer of Ahmes, Narrakis, and Sulum…”
Alhena had reached her throne. She smoothed the front of her dress and began to sit.
“…BELOVED OF THE SKY GOD,…”
She froze, resumed her stance and sighed.
“…Creator of Destiny, Mistress of Divine Power, Bringer of Springtime, Born of the Fire God, All Powerful Commander of the Varjesan Host, Begetter of Storms and Shaker of the Earth, Sister of The Rain and The Winds, who is loved by Anuluwan and ever coveted by Kemesh, Ruler of the New Lands,–”
Alhena rolled her eyes, placed her hands on her hips, and shot Bilali a baleful glare.
“–-and…..and….of Upper and Lower Opar, Queen.”’
She sat, exasperated. The gong was struck again. Those kneeling rose, and some dared to glance up at her, only to avert their eyes from her angry stare.
Bilali struck the floor twice again with his staff. “Bring the heathen in!” he shouted.
Six armored guards escorted a chained giant of a man through the doors. The crowd gasped and parted further to let the guards and their prisoner in. Bilali deftly approached Alhena’s side and muttered, “He was captured in the jungles of Daguar, my lady. You decreed that any exceptional specimen of manhood be brought for your judgment to produce an heir to the throne.”
“I remember,” said Alhena, her eyes growing wide.
“Physically, he is…adequate, I suppose,” said Bilali.
Bilali addressed the giant. “Approach and stand before us!”
Alhena looked up at Bilali.
“Oh,” said Bilali. “A thousand pardons, Royal One.” He cleared his throat and addressed the giant again. “Approach! And stand before the Queen of Opar!”
The chains were removed and the naked giant climbed the steps to the throne.
“Stand on the dais!” shouted Bilali.
The huge man did as he was told.
“Can he not speak?” she asked.
“It seems not, Glorious One.“
The eyes of the giant and those of Alhena met. She could not look away.
“He is not worthy of you, Magnificence,” said Bilali. “Not even to look upon you. To touch you would be sacrilege.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Alhena asked. “I think he’s perfect.”
“Nay, Majesty. He is but an animal. A bull. A mighty bull.” Bilali’s voice began to falter as he leered at the muscular man. “A virile bull. A brute. Strong. Handsome. M-Manly. With…powerful buttocks…and a…….chest…….”
Alhena tried not to smile.
“Give him to me. He need not touch you. Give him to me and I shall have him brought to my private chambers below the palace. There he shall be restrained and I will use my skills and magic to coax his seed from him” He looked at the man. He pointed his staff at him and shouted, “Display yourself!”
The huge man widened his stance, threw out his arms, filled his chest with air, and tensed every muscle.
The crowd gasped. Alhena feigned indifference. Bilali’s eyes widened and he momentarily lost his balance. He regained his composure and, panting, said, “Yes. Oh yes! Divine one…give him to me. I will do anything you say to him. Tell me to please him and I will. I will bathe him. I will anoint his body with precious oils and rub them slowly into his skin. Tell me to hurt him and I will. I will bind him in chains. I will whip his chest. I will punish his buttocks. Tell me to humiliate him and I will touch him in ways and in places no man has ever touched him, and when I discover what shocks him the most I will do it for hours on end, fervently or delicately, whichever robs him of control the most.”
But the giant man could hear all that Bilali whispered and he could in fact speak. “I have no desire to mate with the Queen of Opar.” His voice was deep and gruff.
Alhena raised her eyebrows and Bilali’s eyes widened in surprise. “”Your will is not of our concern,” said Bilali. “As long as you do as you are told, you have no need to fear us.”
Alhena shot Bilali another deadly stare.
“Her.”
The giant spoke again. “The Queen of Opar is very beautiful,” he said. “But I do not wish to couple with her because of fear. I simply don’t find her attractive in that way.”
“WHAT!?” Bilali and Alhena said in unison. The crowd gasped. Alhena stood, outraged.
Bilali stepped forward. “How dare you! And who would you take to your bed if not the Queen of Opar?”
Still holding his titanic arms out at his sides, the man shrugged and said meekly, “The captain of the guard was…attractive.”
(What Queen Alhena sees will be posted in the Premier Gallery in a few days.)
2012