I saw this painting in the hall of a mildly terrifying house a friend of mine is currently renting a room in.
I’m not Alan Yentob, granted, but what I see in this frightening work is a young boy sucking an adult woman’s belly button with Peel Castle in the background.
Part of me hopes that she has hidden a gobstopper there so the little tinker (read: future sex offender) doesn’t scoff it too quickly and choke to death, and instead has to savour it through the weave of her dress. Although, look at her. She’d probably write a folk song about that. She looks like Enya gone evil.
Perhaps the most disturbing thing is the marked erotic undertone. That young boy looks like he’s trying to suck the bend out of a river. He’s loving it. The increasingly villainous woman looks like she’s doing the best she can to reenact her favourite Mills and Boon sauce scene in lieu of A) an adult male B) appropriate lube or C) any clue as to how this will decimate simple island folk’s conventional raunch taboos. She’s either got him so twisted on crack that he loves the taste of lady lint, or he’s autistic and a mouthful of dress and navel in a sea breeze next to a castle is the only thing that calms him down. Tony Heart must be rolling in his grave.
I’m not Alan Yentob, granted, but what I see in this frightening work is a young boy sucking an adult woman’s belly button with Peel Castle in the background.
Part of me hopes that she has hidden a gobstopper there so the little tinker (read: future sex offender) doesn’t scoff it too quickly and choke to death, and instead has to savour it through the weave of her dress. Although, look at her. She’d probably write a folk song about that. She looks like Enya gone evil.
Perhaps the most disturbing thing is the marked erotic undertone. That young boy looks like he’s trying to suck the bend out of a river. He’s loving it. The increasingly villainous woman looks like she’s doing the best she can to reenact her favourite Mills and Boon sauce scene in lieu of A) an adult male B) appropriate lube or C) any clue as to how this will decimate simple island folk’s conventional raunch taboos. She’s either got him so twisted on crack that he loves the taste of lady lint, or he’s autistic and a mouthful of dress and navel in a sea breeze next to a castle is the only thing that calms him down. Tony Heart must be rolling in his grave.
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