I'M YOUR VENUS

 We are all familiar with the iconic “Venus of Willendorf,” a 4.5-inch tall figurine first found in Austria in 1908 during an archaeological expedition. Others were found across Europe. Art historians have speculated about the possible meanings of this robust little lady: Was she a fertility fetish? A full-figured self-portrait by a paleolithic woman? Did the tiny but busty statue eerily presage the debut of Lizzo in 2020? No one answer is definite. 

Picture it: paleolithic Europe, circa 25,000 years ago. A man sits on a block of stone in a darkened cave with a low ceiling. He's bent over what appears to be a primitive workbench, another flat block of stone. He’s quietly talking to himself, engrossed in fashioning a mug out of wet clay. In frustration, he crumples up his efforts, just as his wife strides purposefully into the cave, holding something in her right fist.

SVENSKA [sharply]: Ummm, Bengt, I found this under a rock in the kitchen and want to know what it is and where it came from.

BENGT: Oh, hi Svenska! [brightly] Kind of busy right now with my pot making [he sighs deeply]. I can’t seem to get it right. 

SVENSKA [scornfully]: Pot? That’s a mug, honey.

BENGT: A what, now?

SVENSKA: A mug, For a hot drink. A pot is for food, which we don’t see a lot of around here. 

BENGT [bristling]: Well, who doesn’t like a nice “mug” of tea before bedtime? Didn’t you pick a bunch of lemon verbena this morning with my sister? Makes a fine tea for stomach aches, insomnia.

SVENSKA: Yes, but--

BENGT: There you go. [folds his arms across his chest and leans back, satisfied]

SVENSKA: TEA ISN’T GOING TO FILL OUR BELLIES! [yelling]

BENGT: Jeeze, Svenska! You’ll wake the kids. Calm down!

SVENSKA [somewhat tearfully, while extending an open palm]: What is this, Bengt? I found it under a rock?

BENGT: Which rock? There are, like, a lot of rocks here; we live in a cave.

SVENSKA: Ugh, it doesn’t matter. Who is she, Bengt?

BENGT: Who is who? [he gazes briefly at the small but amply endowed figurine formerly concealed in Svenska’s hand] Oh, you found her [crestfallen].

SVENSKA: Who is she, Bengt? I don’t know anyone who looks like this...woman.

BENGT: She’s from my imagination! [clearly excited]

SVENSKA: I don’t have these [she points gingerly to each of the statue’s pendulous breasts].

BENGT: No...you’re a bit on the...smaller side.

SVENSKA: And I don’t have this [pats the statue’s backside] at all.

BENGT: No [wistfully]. Yours is kind of...flat.

SVENSKA: Fifteen pregnancies and 10 kids will do that, Bengt.

BENGT: I guess so [dully].

SVENSKA: See, I don’t have a belly [patting her concave abdomen]. It has never hung like this [tapping the drooping stomach of the figure with her index finger]. Probably because it is never full [accusingly]. If one of us spent more time making sharp hunting implements and less time making empty pots--

BENGT: [smashing a hairy fist into the crumpled clay remains of his failed mug] Yaaargh! 

SVENSKA [soothingly placing the hand not holding the figurine on Bengt’s shoulder] Oh Bengt! It’s hard being a nomadic hunter...always on the move, never truly getting to know the local terrain…But we are all so hungry, Bengt, all of the time [she massages his upper back in a circular motion].

BENGT: Yep….[leaning back and closing his eyes under furrowed bushy brows]...That feels quite nice, Svenska. [she leans over his shoulder to get a better look at the mangled mug, and her long hair brushes his ear] Your hair has been looking less matted lately, by the way.

SVENSKA: [brightly] Thank you, yes, I use a urine rinse, followed by a quick dry on a high cliff, which---BENGT! Stop changing the subject. I don’t know ANYONE who looks like this woman. Not my mother, my sisters, your sister, not even Slutty Inge. Where did you get this?

BENGT: [quietly] I made her.

SVENSKA: You what?

BENGT: I made her. You know, out of stone. I added a little red ochre for color, too.

SVENSKA: Look, Bengt. I am never going to look like this woman. I barely have enough body fat to menstruate or nurse my children. I’m the last to get my share of meat, and the first to get explosive diarrhea from a bad batch of lingonberries.

BENGT: Aw, Svenska, you’re a very good gatherer. The diarrhea thing, it only happened once.

SVENSKA: My point is Bengt...Don’t you find me attractive? [shyly]

BENGT: Of course I do! You’re my woman, Svenska [patting her nonexistent bottom].

SVENSKA: It’s just...this...makes me feel like I’m not enough for you. Literally. I’m never going to look like her [forlornly]. 

BENGT: That’s the point, Svenska. She was in my head, is all, and I had to make her real. [adding quickly] But she’s not real, of course. All this is real [he gestures around the cramped cave and his many children sleeping under animal skins in the corner]. My life with you…?

SVENSKA: Is that...a question? [mildly irritated]

BENGT: I love you, Svenska. You complete me--literally. I’m the hunter to your gatherer.

SVENSKA: Oh no.

BENGT: This is art, Svenska. She’s a symbol. She can’t have babies. She doesn’t make tasty salads. She definitely doesn’t keep me warm at night…

SVENSKA: You’ve slept with her? [incredulous]

BENGT: [chuckling heartily] She’s cold and hard. [reaching for Svenska’s narrow waist and pulling her closer]

SVENSKA: [annoyed but also aroused; pulls away from Bengt’s embrace] Well, I’m getting rid of her anyways, just in case.

BENGT: [primly] I think that’s for the best, Svenska. 

SVENSKA: [happily heads for the opening of the cave; it is dusk outside] I’m going to toss her into the garbage dump.

BENGT: [under his breath, as he scoops more wet clay from a bucket next to his stone slab seat and slaps it loudly onto the stone slab in front of him] That’s ok, ‘cause I made six more.

SVENSKA: [yelling] What did you say, Bengt?

BENGT: Nothing of major import, my love!

Conclusion: The woman of Willendorf and her ilk are manifestations of early pornography. She represents an unrealistic ideal of the paleolithic period: a well-fed female with a body mass index (BMI) >30.