Femininity is an inherently dark force. When you look a woman in the eyes, Nature’s mysteries stare back at you.
As much as we love celebrating the beauty of Nature, we must remember there’s much darkness and destruction hiding behind her alluring face. The same is true for woman: stare deeply and long enough into her eyes, and you may get a glimpse of the eerie yet charming smile of the femme fatale.
Woman is a labyrinth of terrifying complexity. The deeper man ventures inside this labyrinth, the darker it gets, until he completely loses himself in it. He can look at her from the outside, from every angle, as closely as he’d like, and he still won’t be able to see inside her – but she can see inside of him. And the prospect of getting lost in her is both thrilling and frightening.
Man has no dark secrets to hide and nowhere to hide them. He is dangerous because he possesses the physical strength to harm others, and physical strength cannot be concealed. In fact, man likes to show off his muscles, rather than hide them. He also loves a challenge, and a bit of danger – and woman is the most intoxicating and perilous challenge man can dream of.
By contrast, woman’s strength is not in her muscles. Therefore, her power is much less tangible than man’s, and it has been persistently misinterpreted, misrepresented and even denied throughout history, but especially in the last few decades.
The femme fatale archetype is one of the oldest and purest aspects of feminine nature depicted in art, literature and film. She is as old as mankind. Accordingly, many of the world’s religions depict the first woman as beautiful yet cunning. Ancient Greek Pandora, Hebrew Lilith and Biblical Eve are all represented as irresistible, with a sinister edge.
The femme fatale lives on the delicate line between Carl Jung’s Great Mother, a nurturing figure as old as mankind, and the Terrible Mother, who slowly devours her offspring and all men. She represents the darkest element of feminine energy, reminding us that what creates also has the power to destroy. Indeed, her dark creativity is her primary weapon.
She retains some qualities of mother goddesses and other archetypal mother figures, such as Egyptian goddess Isis and the Virgin Mary. She is the amalgamation of the goddess of love and the goddess of death. Like the Hindu goddess Kali, she is a symbol of both seduction and destruction. Her touch is gentle and caring at first… And the next second she brutally scratches you with her sharp nails, and she knows exactly where it hurts the most.
The femme fatale is powerful because she is a woman, not in spite of it. Her power lies in the mystery surrounding and living inside her. She is undecipherable yet ubiquitous, tender yet cruel, metaphorical yet real – just like Nature herself. And, like Nature, she has a dark sense of humour: one moment you call her beautiful, the next she bites you with her vampire teeth. As she smiles, your blood is dripping from her lips, which someone else will be kissing soon, only to encounter the exact same fate.
What makes the femme fatale dangerous is the beautiful surface concealing her evil depth. She possesses no extraordinary physical strength, with which to threaten or harm. Instead, it is her deceiving softness and tantalising ambiguity that makes her so terrifying – which are, again, also characteristics of Nature.
Salome danced for the king Herod Antipas, and he was so captivated by her beauty that he told her she could ask for anything in the world. Salome requested the head of John the Baptist, and she got what she wanted. Although this may not have happened exactly like this is reality, there is some profound philosophical and psychological truth in this story, which is not the same as historical accuracy. The truth is that the femme fatale doesn’t need a gun to kill. She doesn’t even need to speak a lot of words; hearing her say ‘please’ in her sensually mellow voice will send the same chills down your spine as seeing a man point a gun at another.
Delilah and Mata Hari both used their natural charms to get some critical information out of powerful men. Although the latter got caught and executed in the end, tens of thousands of soldiers had already died as a result of her spying.
If you’re mesmerised by the otherworldly beauty of a gleaming red rose, you won’t notice its thorns until they have punctured your flesh. Then you realise it’s the blood of others like you that has dyed it that colour. The lips of the femme fatale are the same – except her thorns are also dipped in poison, which tastes like the sweetest nectar.