Parents in "Beauty and the Beast" tales

In all of the “Beauty and Beast” tales and their related counterparts, a beautiful young girl finds herself coerced into an undesirable marriage at the urging of a parent figure. Most often, a desire for money motivates the parent to deliver their beautiful daughter into the hands of a grotesque, frightful beast. For example, Beauty’s father is on a money-driven quest to retrieve his merchandise when he stumbles unwittingly into Beast’s palace, and similarly, in “The Pig King,” a destitute peasant mother, lured by the prospect of money, freely sells off all three of her daughters to the vile swine-like Prince.

By today’s standards, this practice seems hard to believe. What decent and rational parent would willingly consign their child to an unfavorable marriage with a horrific, foul beast? Given the historical context in which these tales were fashioned, however, the arrangement would have been perfectly sound. Up until the mid-20^th century, after all, marriage was a purely economical phenomenon, devoid of sentiment or feeling. The idea of marrying “for love” served no practical purpose; it was simply a blessed bonus if the partnership actually ended up generating feelings of love. For this reason, the practice of subjecting reluctant daughters to unwanted marriages was widespread. In almost all instances, the parent of the “Beauty” figure is impoverished and desperate, while the beastly character possesses vast wealth and power. To turn the arrangement down would be unthinkable. In this way, the Beauty and Beast tales are a reflection of the social environment in which they originated, an environment in which money trumped all other considerations, and love emerged as a trivial consideration.

That the “Beauty” figure initially begrudgingly enters the marriage proves crucial to the tale’s overarching theme. The “Beauty and Beast” tales, above all, speak to the idea of “inner beauty”—that what matters is not so much appearance or courtly manners, but virtue, kindness, and gentleness. The longer Beauty resides in the palace, the more Beast’s quiet, unassuming kindness begins to emerge, and she discovers a surprising gentleness lurking beneath his frightening façade. Of the Beast’s inherent goodness, Beauty remarks:

“You are very kind. I swear to you that I am completely pleased with your good heart. When I think of it, you no longer seem ugly to me.”

And later, more tellingly:

“There are certainly men more monstrous than you. I like you better, even with your looks, than men who hide false, corrupt, and ungrateful hearts behind charming manners.”

Here, Du Beaumont’s message rings clear: rather than being dazzled by such superficial qualities as charm and attractiveness, women should choose suitors on the basis of their inner qualities, seeking someone with virtue and morals. Had Beauty entered the marriage willingly, without the external prodding of a parent, swayed herself by the prospect of wealth, this crucial message would be utterly lost. What is important for the story’s trajectory is that Beauty initially finds no inherent positive good in her situation. The only thing keeping her at the castle is her selfless devotion to her father. Although Beauty initially is repulsed by the Beast’s external appearance, his bumbling animalism, soon her new suitor’s genuine goodness begins to manifest itself in small, gentle gestures, such that the Beast no longer seems so beastly. At the end of the day, Beauty recognizes how fortunate she is to have a suitor who treats her so kindly, and this idea—that all a woman needs in a partner is friendship and companionship—forms the moral core of the tale. Had she not been pushed unwillingly into her situation, this crucial burst of insight could have never taken root.