Ah, Beauty and the Beast: a tale as old as time, a song as old as rhyme…and maybe a story with a few subliminal strings attached? Don’t get me wrong; Belle is every bookworm’s dream protagonist. She strolls through town with her nose in a book, unbothered by the bustling villagers as she daydreams about far-off lands, daring sword fights, and princes in disguise. On the surface, she’s an inspiration—a poster child for curiosity and the love of learning. But beneath this enchanting facade, could there be a darker, more insidious message at play?
Let’s crack open this metaphorical book and turn the pages with a discerning eye.
Belle the Dreamer vs. the Industrious Villagers
The opening number is iconic: Belle walks through the village singing about her “poor, provincial town.” Meanwhile, the villagers are hard at work, baking bread, selling wares, and generally doing the thankless tasks that keep society afloat. Belle, however, is distracted by her book—a clear allegory for her intellectual pursuits and longing for something more. Sounds noble, right?
But hold on. The narrative subtly paints the villagers as uninspired drones, too bogged down by their daily grind to appreciate the “adventure in the great wide somewhere” Belle craves. Proverbs 14:23 reminds us, “All hard work brings a profit, but mere talk leads only to poverty.” Belle’s romantic escapism isn’t balanced with the humility of understanding the value of work. Instead, the film suggests that Belle’s intellectual pursuits make her superior, even when they disengage her from her community.
The villagers aren’t necessarily rude or boring; they’re practical. They’re doing what’s needed to survive. Yet we’re encouraged to root for Belle, the outsider, as though her lofty dreams automatically make her better. What kind of message does that send? That your worth lies not in your contributions to others, but in your ability to elevate yourself above them?
“Do As Thou Wilt”: Belle’s Path to Self-Enlightenment
There’s something eerily modern (and ancient) about Belle’s “put yourself first” narrative. It echoes the famous tenet of Aleister Crowley’s occult philosophy: “Do as thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.” This mindset emphasizes self-fulfillment above all else, which contrasts sharply with Biblical teachings that prioritize humility, service, and seeking God’s will. Philippians 2:3-4 instructs us, “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.”
Belle’s quest for adventure isn’t inherently wrong, but the way it’s framed—contrasted against the “small-minded” villagers—implies that following your desires is more important than contributing to the community or honoring traditions. In essence, it’s a self-centered narrative wrapped in the glittering package of intellectual aspiration.
Gaston: The (Misrepresented) Biblical Male
Enter Gaston, the village’s alpha male. He’s a caricature of toxic masculinity—boorish, vain, and dismissive of Belle’s reading. The scene where he tosses her book on the ground is meant to make us despise him, but let’s pause for a second. Gaston, for all his flaws, represents the archetypal traditional male: a hunter, provider, and leader. He values physical prowess and hard work, traits that are celebrated in the Bible. After all, Genesis 3:19 tells us, “By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground.”
Of course, Gaston’s flaws are undeniable (pride cometh before the fall, after all), but his disdain for Belle’s escapism could be read as a call to balance dreams with reality. Yet, the story frames Gaston as a villain, while the Beast—a literal monster—is portrayed as Belle’s salvation.
The Beast’s Library: A Symbol of False Enlightenment?
Ah, the Beast’s library—every booklover’s fantasy. Belle’s reaction when she sees it is priceless; her awe is palpable. Compare this to the modest village library, where the selection is limited and, dare I say, provincial. The implication is clear: Belle’s intellectual growth can only flourish under the Beast’s influence.
But consider the deeper symbolism. The Beast’s castle is a place of isolation, enchantment, and (initially) despair. While the library may seem like a gift, it’s also a trap. It lures Belle into the Beast’s world, away from the traditional values of her community. Isaiah 5:20 warns, “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness.” The Beast’s library may glitter, but it’s part of a larger narrative that equates rebellion against tradition with enlightenment and glamor.
Beauty, the Beast, and the Bigger Picture
So, what’s the subliminal message behind Belle’s love of reading? It’s not just a harmless encouragement for young girls to embrace literature. Beneath the surface lies a narrative that glorifies self-fulfillment, romantic escapism, and rebellion against tradition. The villagers, for all their hard work, are dismissed as dull. Gaston, for all his faults, is ridiculed for representing traditional masculinity. And the Beast? He rewards Belle’s defiance of societal norms with luxury, enlightenment, and, ultimately, a throne.
The Bible teaches us to seek wisdom, but to do so within the framework of humility and service to others. Proverbs 9:10 reminds us, “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and knowledge of the Holy One is understanding.” Perhaps it’s time to reconsider the messages we consume, even those wrapped in enchanting songs and fairy-tale endings.
As Belle might say, “There must be more than this provincial life”—but let’s make sure the “more” we seek leads us closer to God, not away from Him.