Malka: *nods, impressed by Tamara’s reasoning* That’s so true. I never saw it that way, but you’re right. 

But at the same time, women back then weren’t even allowed out of the house, especially if they belonged to certain classes, weren’t they? Unless they were priestesses. So you had to be a certain type of woman. And goddesses are ideals, really, not representative of how regular women lived. Many women were slaves who were traded and sold like possessions. Even “regular” citizen women were “sold” into marriage, really. Everything was transaction.

*she sighs and pauses*

I mean, things these days are transactional too. But at least we’re not as obvious about it. And most people these days are more empathetic, I think, not as fierce and deterministic. So while humanity still has a long way to go, we’ve come a long way since 2,000 years ago. Back then, death, violence, and torture were part of every day life in a way that it isn’t now. *her voice trails off*

Tamara: *nods, and ruminates quietly over Malka’s reasoning, impressed by the younger woman’s points.*

Yes, that’s why it is very easy to romanticize the past. You are right- for most women, the world existed as a series, a relentless series of transactions and exchanges. 

Most women had little freedom, or none whatsoever. Goddesses are ideals, and the ordinary woman couldn’t find much common ground with any of them.

I suppose people are empathetic- for certain people. I realized that empathy and sympathy only exist for people who grant to other people who are like themselves, or fit within their moral framework. 

People today, I think, can be just be as cruel, savage, and deterministic as they were in antiquity. 

*Grows slightly bitter, but maintains her grace, for Malka’s sake* 

It’s just masked so nicely underneath our ideals, the ‘enlightenment’ of ‘modern progress’, and polite civility. Laws, religion, all these things mask the ugly nature of humans and their greed. 

But I suppose it’s better now. We aren’t sold like pots and pans at the market anymore, and a woman can escape the prison of marriage if she is smart. 

Still, not much lies for us women, even today, no? We will become slaves of something, one way or another… 

Malka: *bows head* That’s true. But the mask of civility can train certain people to stop being so cruel. Of course, some will never change. They will do what they’ve always done. 

But over time, a lot of the ugly things will be considered reprehensible by most ordinary people and thoroughly condemned. That’s why the union people are fighting to protect workers’ rights. Who knows? In 50 years, a lot of the things that go on in factories may be seen as illegal and thoroughly condemned. 

And back to the woman issue - yes, most people are enslaved to something regardless of what that is. But at least there are more options now. Better to be enslaved to a gruelling job than to a husband who beats you and just gradually sucks the soul out of you…*her voice fades softly, as if she’s thinking about someone*

Tamara: *bits her lower lip and breathes quietly.* 

But a mask is still a mask. A mask can hide the ugliest things, and when it falls, how horrible it is, to see the real faces of people. And what they do, when the mask falls off. Or as they do it, wearing the mask. 

Sure- of course. Factory workers, workers in general. They are gaining respect. They will fight to protect one another. 

But what of other people?

For women, many of us work in factories, or serve in other services, like waitresses and maids. 

But what of people who serve by other means? Those who do not fit the righteous moral framework? That’s what I mean. 

For example… *Tamara wracks her brain to think of a similar comparison of her own profession* a dance-hall girl! A dancer. A showgirl. 

Who cares about them? Sure, they are not risking life and limb under great machines, scrubbing floors or waiting on ingrates hand and foot, but they are in danger of other things. 

Greater dangers. Darker ones. 

Their fate belies a dark end, too, and one of which everyone will say, “Ah, they deserved it. They were bad girls.” 

They will warn their daughters, “Don’t become like that- there’s no hope or safety for you there.” 

So yes, it’s all neatly packaged in this moral frame, as I said.

And masks train people willing to learn- but so many feign learning something and remain just as ignorant. 

Malka: That makes sense. Every profession should be respected. It will take some time for these judgments to go away. 

*speaking carefully, since she senses that Tamara might be one of these showgirls she’s talking about*

So…you know a lot about the entertainment business, then?

Tamara: *eyes narrow with cautious suspicion, suspecting Malka senses her true profession, but is being polite about it.*

Somewhat. I could be anything. I could be a common dance-hall girl. Or perhaps I am an eccentric rich woman who likes to haunt museums and talk to random strangers. 

But yes, I know a bit of the other side, the other side of which women work through and live through. 

It’s a different world. I suppose you’re not part of this world, are you? 

Malka: W-what do you mean? Of course I am. You are too. What do you mean, “not part of this world”? Like, something occult?

Tamara: Occult? *Confused for a brief moment. Then she realizes Malka’s innocent confusion. She does not want to reveal her true profession to Malka. Not yet. Perhaps not ever.* 

Ah, not quite. Still… *Tamara tries to change the subject, wanting to remain on friendly terms with the young lady. She half-closes her eyes in something of a knowing manner.*

Do you have any interest in the occult, then? 

Also, how rude of me! We don’t know each other's names now. 

I am Tamara Georgievna Gelazdhe. 

What is yours? You must have a lovely name. 

Malka: Nice to meet you, Tamara. You have a lovely name as well. Are you…Georgian, I believe? My name is Malka Spitzer. 

And no, I don’t think I have an interest in the occult…I was just thinking that it’s something not of the world, you know, something like tarot and crystal ball reading. 

So what other statues in here have caught your interest? How about that one of a Minotaur?

Tamara: *turns her eyes and gazes thoughtfully at the Minotaur. There’s a strength and melancholic quality about the stone figure sculpted in its beastliness in marble. Tamara nears the statue and tilts her head thoughtfully.* 

Ah, well, I offer exceptional and honest services in divination- especially for Tarot and gazing into the crystal orb to scry for one’s future. 

If you need my divination services, I will gladly help you, Malka. 

And what a lovely name! 

Does your name mean something? 

Hmm… this Minotaur. At first glance, he’s very beastly, isn’t he? Fearsome. 

Savage. 

But there’s something about his gaze… it’s very sad. Me-how do you say it? Melancholic! Melancholic that’s trapped in his gaze. And there’s a loneliness, too. 

Sure, perhaps this monster was sealed away in the labyrinth, but was he truly so monstrous? Or did his callous family make him so? A cruel plaything of gods and the crueler fates. 

Ah, poor beast. 

*Shakes her head thoughtful and sympathetic at the stone figure.* 

Malka: *listens to Tamara and nods slowly* You’re quite empathetic, aren’t you? Does the Minotaur remind you of someone, maybe? *her words trail off*

Tamara: Me? Empathetic? No…*shakes her head softly, slightly, lost in thought over the association with the Minotaur.* No. 

As for reminding me of someone… there is this one person… I suppose he reminds me a bit of a Minotaur. 

Great big fellow, looks quite terrifying, but he has a surprising nature about him.

*Tries to shake the man from her thoughts now* 

Is there anything in this part of the gallery that reminds you of anyone you know? 

Malka: *looks pensively at Tamara, absorbing her words* I see, that’s interesting. How did you meet this fellow? Is he an old friend of yours? 

*Meanwhile, her eyes shift to the side. There’s a statue of a naked youth with a fierce yet tormented look on his face. There is something uniquely dignified about his pose and his expression*

Hm…maybe this one reminds me of someone. The expression is uncannily similar.

Tamara: *blinks confused, initially. Then she blinks again, clear-minded now. She glances at Malka and then resumes staring at the Minotaur.* No, I met him last month. He’s quite new here. 

But he won’t stay long. 

He’s here for a sporting event. An athletic diplomat. 

We… we met at this bar. He was so kind to me. As I said, despite his looks, he’s surprisingly gentle. He’s a boisterous fellow, too. 

Yet… beneath all that, he is… isolated. Lonely.  He masks all this with his bright and warm ferocity. 

He’s red-blooded, full of vigor. But is pensive, trapped in sadness, when he takes off his mask. 

He let me peek behind his mask, when he got too drunk at the bar. 

He’s trapped in a world that confuses him. I guess he IS like the poor Minotaur.

Different from the rest. 

Trapped in a maze he has to figure out. 

Well, I guess that Minotaur was trapped for everyone’s benefit, so the myth tells us. 

Still, I wonder if they were wrong, and the Minotaur wasn’t a monster. 

If he was, he was driven by those around him to act out. 

Perhaps he was trying to escape, like those banished in that dark and terrifying labyrinth. 

But listen to me! *Shakes her head and sighs.* 

Go on and on. Forgive me.  

*Tamara now turns her eyes to the sculpture captivating Malka’s rapt attention. Nodding, Tamara notices the youth’s fierce yet tormented gaze, set in marble flawless.*

Ah, who does this remind you, Malka?