malymin

Downloadable here.

“Interestingly, some scholars working within Animal Theory further argue that a certain right of access is assumed on the part of the, superior, humans when they encounter animals, so that the animal body may be touched, subsumed, or killed on the basis of the human right to do so. This also occurs in several medieval literary examples of human encounters with the dragon maiden, where the knight initially does not doubt that he is allowed access to the dragon maiden’s body in killing it. Although the dragon maiden and the knight may share their space within a literary framework, this sharing is non-mimetic; they are not considered equals. The main purpose of the stories, especially in the episodes where a dragon maiden has to be kissed, is to ascertain the worth of the human knight.”

This PDF is long - 138 pages long! I've barely even skimmed it. It was brought to my attention by a blog post on Tumblr about it. Tumblr user capricorn-0mnikorn's "monsters as disability metaphor" tag is worth a browse. The PDF itself does not compare the position of the dragon maiden (or frog king/prince, etc) to the way a disabled person's body is framed and treated relative to caretakers and loved ones - but 0mnikorn does.

Here's some of their post on the Frog King story, that draws from the analysis of the Dragon Maiden in the pdf I've linked:

First, that “Access to the dragon maiden’s body” made me think of all those times when I go out in public, and random strangers just assume they have every right of access to my disabled body – to pat me on the head, or grab the handles of my wheelchair and push me where they think I should go, or ask me really personal, inappropriately intimate, questions about my medical status or how I use the toilet.

Second: how these stories are never about the dragon maiden at all, but just about that hyper-human human knight reminded me of every “human interest” story in the news that touches on disability; the reporters never interview the disabled person (usually a kid), but always the able-bodied parents, or neighbors, or teachers. Because it’s not about the disabled person at all – just whether or not the able-bodied, neurotypical, person can live up to a symbolically human ideal, and justify the “goodness” of the social status-quo for another season.

And that’s how people can say things to me like: “But I don’t see your disability – I see your humanity!” with a straight face, and expect me to take that as a compliment. To them, my disability is some sort of magical, artificial, shape that I’m trapped inside of – like someone in a rubber Godzilla suit with a broken zipper.

If they can free me from the trap, I will be fully human (and they will prove to the world that they have God’s approval as His idea of a Perfect Person).

But if I can’t be freed of my disability, then the spirit of Godzilla will seep into my very essence, and I will lose all traces of my humanity. Superstitious toad milk soup, of course, that no amount of salt will fix, but there you go.

Unrelated, 0mnikron cites some of D. L. Ashliman's website in one of their posts about monstrous/animal bodies in folklore as metaphors for disabled bodies, and I love to see Ashliman's folklore database getting some love.