Carol Ann Duffy published "Pygmalion's Bride" in her 1999 collection The World's Wife, a book of dramatic monologues spoken by the female counterparts of famous (and infamous) men from history, literature, and folklore. Pygmalion was a skilled sculptor from Greek mythology who fell in love with his own statue—an image of a beautiful woman whom he named Galatea. Aphrodite, the goddess of love, fulfilled Pygmalion's wishes by bringing Galatea to life, and the couple were married. "Pygmalion's Bride" offers Galatea's perspective. According to her, Pygmalion's advances are entirely unwelcome. She tries to dissuade him by acting uninterested—but, ironically, he stops only pursuing her once she pretends to respond to his attentions with pleasure. Indeed, the moment Galatea transforms from an inanimate object into a human being with thoughts and desires of her own, Pygmalion loses interest in her entirely. This, the poem hints, might be a dynamic that plays out in a lot of heterosexual relationships.
The poem's speaker, the enchanted statue Galatea, says: I was as cold as snow or ivory. I thought, Pygmalion won't touch me, but he did.
He kissed my lips, which were cold as stone. I laid still like I was dead, but he stayed anyway, pressing on my marble eyes with his thumb.
He spoke to me: tactless sweet talk, telling what he'd like to do with me. The things he said were awful. My carved stone ears were like deaf seashells. I tried to drown out his voice, but above the ocean-like sound in my stone ears, I could still hear him yelling.
He brought me gifts: shiny stones and tiny bells. I received them silently, without blinking. He brought me jewelry: pearls, necklaces, and rings which he called girly things. He caressed my limbs with his damp, sticky hands. I didn't shrink away from his touch, but instead acted like a silent statue.
He dug his fingers into me, squeezing and pressing against my skin, but I did not bruise. He looked to see if he'd left marks on me: bruises shaped like purple hearts, black stars, or smudges. He raked me with his claw-like nails, but left not a scratch, scrape, nor scar. He leaned me against pillows and chattered the night away. My heart was as cold and clear as ice or glass. His voice was gravelly and rough. He talked and talked; he talked so much he could have turned the color white to black.
So I changed my strategy. I became warm as candle wax and returned Pygmalion's kisses. I made myself soft and supple. I moaned in pleasure and became aroused. I curved and twisted my body. I begged for him to impregnate me, and at the peak of his pleasure I screamed out loud. But all along I was pretending.
And I haven't seen him since then. It's that simple.
In “Pygmalion’s Bride,” Carol Ann Duffy retells the Greek myth of Pygmalion from the perspective of the object of his affections: a beautiful statue named Galatea.
In the original myth, Pygmalion was a talented sculptor who fell in love with a statue he carved. He prayed to Aphrodite, the goddess of love, that she might bring this statue to life. Aphrodite obliged, and Pygmalion married his own creation.
In Duffy’s poem, Galatea describes Pygmalion’s romantic and sexual advances as being not only unwelcome, but violent—at least, until she pretends to invite them. In this way, the poem shows how Pygmalion’s desire is rooted not in genuine care or love, but in his egotistical need to control and dominate the woman he's set his heart on.
Throughout the poem, it’s clear that Pygmalion’s romantic gestures revolve around his own desires—not Galatea’s. She describes trying to drown out his “terrible” words, ignoring the demeaning “girly things” he gifts her, and lying unresponsive under the touch of his “clammy hands.” There’s nothing personal or sincere about Pygmalion's “blunt endearments,” which are clearly meant to seduce Galatea rather than legitimately flatter or please her. He can think only of his own desires (“what he’d do and how”) and remains totally indifferent to Galatea’s obvious lack of interest. Indeed, she says that he “thumb[s her] marble eyes” and “kisse[s her] stone-cool lips”—pawing at her in a clumsy, aggressive, and decidedly unsexy way.
As Galatea continues to resist Pygmalion, his actions grow increasingly violent: he attempts to “bruise” her and “scratch” her with his “claws.” Such brutality conveys that he longs not only to love and caress Galatea, but also to possess and mark her. This isn’t love, it seems, but a desire for ownership and control.
Pygmalion’s violent desire ceases only once Galatea pretends to enjoy his advances, moaning, writhing, and becoming “soft” and “warm” to his touch. She even “beg[s] for his child,” essentially calling his bluff. After putting on this “act,” she never sees him again. Pygmalion, the poem suggests, was after Galatea only to fulfill his own selfish lust; when commitment and fatherhood are suddenly on the table, he bolts.
It’s clear, then, that Pygmalion never actually loved Galatea, nor wanted any sort of meaningful partnership. He preferred her as a silent statue—an object—rather than a living, breathing woman with wants and desires of her own.
The speaker of “Pygmalion’s Bride” is Galatea: in Greek mythology, a beautiful statue created by the skilled sculptor Pygmalion. Pygmalion fell in love with Galatea, and the goddess Aphrodite brought the statue to life so that Pygmalion could marry her.
In Duffy’s rendition of the tale, Galatea wants nothing to do with Pygmalion. Yet her stony, unresponsive lack of interest only encourages his sexual advances. Only once she becomes human and responds with pretended pleasure to Pygmalion’s seduction does he finally quit pursuing her. With this twist, the poem illustrates common sexual hypocrisy: women are expected to remain chaste in the face of male desire, while a woman’s embrace of her sexuality makes her undesirable.
When Galatea is a statue, her purity and innocence contrast with—and excite—Pygmalion’s lust. Galatea is completely nonsexual, remaining “still” and unresponsive to Pygmalion’s touch. She even compares herself to pure white “snow” and “ivory,” emphasizing how she is clean and untouched. Pygmalion, meanwhile, attempts to seduce Galatea, caressing her and telling her “what he’d do and how”—in other words, offering to pleasure her sexually. So long as she remains cold and unyielding, he wants her.
Revolted by Pygmalion’s romantic attentions, Galatea “change[s] tack,” or strategy. Instead of playing the role of the pure white statue, she makes herself human, becoming “soft,” “warm,” and “pliable.” She even goes so far as to pretend to enjoy sex with Pygmalion, moaning and writhing in exaggerated pleasure. After she puts on this “act,” he abandons her entirely. This implies that for Pygmalion, part of Galatea’s allure is her unwillingness to be with him. He wanted someone demure and virginal; once she expresses consent and pleasure, he loses interest. In other words, Pygmalion would rather force himself on Galatea than see her enjoy her own sexuality.
Cold, I was, ...
... but he did.
"Pygmalion's Bride" retells the Greek myth of Pygmalion and Galatea. In this old tale, the sculptor Pygmalion carves a statue of a beautiful woman he names Galatea—then falls desperately in love with his creation. Aphrodite (goddess of love) takes pity on him and transforms Galatea into a flesh-and-blood woman so the couple can marry.
In this dramatic monologue (a poem told from the perspective of a particular character, like a speech from a play), Galatea tells her side of the story—and, as is often the case in poems from Carol Ann Duffy's The World's Wife, it's not such a nice story, seen from her point of view.
In the poem's opening tercet, Galatea describes herself as "Cold [...] like snow" or "ivory." These similes emphasize Galatea's coolness and hardness. Snow and ivory are also both white, a color typically associated with purity. Thus, Galatea establishes how, as a statue, she lacks human warmth, softness, and sexuality.
Galatea believes that her stony, virginal appearance will dissuade Pygmalion from making a pass at her—"I thought He will not touch me"—but she's mistaken. It's important to note that because Galatea is essentially an inanimate object, she doesn't invite, consent, or even respond to Pygmalion's touch; rather, he acts entirely according to his own whims. And act he does: though she thinks he won't touch her, she concludes, with grim simplicity: "But he did."
Galatea will go on to tell her story over the course of 51 lines of free verse (that is, poetry without a consistent meter or rhyme scheme). This unpredictability makes the poem feel conversational, which feels appropriate for such a personal account. The poem is also divided into seven stanzas of varying lengths. Generally speaking, these stanzas grow longer as the poem goes on. This allows its pace and tension to gradually increase—until a brief final couplet that will work rather like a punchline.
He kissed my ...
... my marbled eyes.
Unlock all 306 words of this analysis of Lines 4-8 of “Pygmalion's Bride,” and get the Line-by-Line Analysis for every poem we cover.
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Get LitCharts A+He spoke— ...
... stone-deaf shells.
I heard the ...
... heard him shout.
He brought me presents, ...
... girly things.
He ran his ...
... played statue, shtum.
He let his ...
... scrape, no scar.
He propped me ...
... talked white black.
So I changed ...
... began to moan,
got hot, got ...
... all an act.
And haven't seen ...
... Simple as that.
Throughout most of the poem, Galatea uses her statue-like qualities to express her disinterest in Pygmalion's sexual advances. She is "stone-cool" to his "touch" and "stone-deaf" to his "blunt endearments." When he kisses her, she lies "still," and when he showers her with "presents," she doesn't speak, or even blink. In this way, the statue comes to symbolize female unresponsiveness and indifference toward unwanted male attention. Physically unwelcoming and emotionally distant, Galatea's statue form is both literally and figuratively "cold."
Rather than deter the sexist Pygmalion, Galatea's indifference only encourages his advances. It's as if he's turned on by her inability to respond or give consent. However, taking the form of a statue also allows Galatea to separate herself from Pygmalion's invasive actions. When he speaks to her, she "drown[s] him out," and when he attempts to "bruise" and "scratch" her body, her stony skin remains unmarked. Thus, the statue also represents unyielding feminine strength and independence.
Throughout "Pygmalion's Bride," alliteration creates sounds that reflect the poem's tone and content.
Take, for example, lines 12-14:
My ears were sculpture,
stone-deaf shells.
I heard the sea.
Here, alliterative /s/ sounds produce a sibilant effect; the poem mimics the hissing of the ocean it describes. A similar technique occurs in lines 24-25 when Galatea claims, "I didn't shrink, / played statue, shtum." Here, the repetition of /sh/ sounds creates a hushed tone consistent with Galatea's quiet, passive behavior.
Elsewhere in the poem, the alliteration of harder sounds produces a sharp, percussive rhythm, as in lines 17-21:
He brought me presents, polished pebbles,
little bells.
I didn't blink,
Here, the repetition of /b/ and /p/ sounds is bright—much like the ringing of bells—as well as forceful and disruptive—much like Pygmalion's attempts at seduction. Likewise, in line 34 when Galatea says Pygmalion "propped me up on pillows," the alliteration of /p/ creates an assertive, attention-grabbing sound that suits Pygmalion's controlling, egotistical actions.
Line 33, meanwhile, combines soft and hard consonant sounds: "I showed no scratch, no scrape, no scar." By combining hushed /s/ sounds with rough /c/ sounds, the alliteration of /sc/ captures Pygmalion's violent, forceful behavior and Galatea's quiet, seething disapproval at once.
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Get LitCharts A+Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.
A hard, creamy-white material which makes up the tusks of elephants, walruses, and other animals.
Like many of Carol Ann Duffy's poems, "Pygmalion's Bride" is a dramatic monologue, meaning it takes the form of a speech by a specific character—in this case, Galatea, the statue-turned-wife of the mythical sculptor Pygmalion.
Written in free verse, "Pygmalion's Bride" doesn't follow the conventions of any particular form (such as a sonnet, sestina, or villanelle). The lack of a regular meter or rhyme scheme here gives Galatea's voice a conversational flow suitable for an intimate, first-person narrative.
The poem's 51 lines are divided into seven irregular stanzas. Across the poem, those stanzas get longer and longer—until the short, sharp two-line conclusion. Galatea's final wry announcement of Pygmalion's sudden disappearance ends up feeling like the punchline of a long joke.
"Pygmalion's Bride" is written in free verse. This means the poem doesn't follow a consistent meter but instead uses an unpredictable pattern of stressed and unstressed syllables. This makes the poem sounds similar to informal, conversational speech—a choice that feels fitting in a dramatic monologue. The lack of meter makes Galatea's casual, colloquial voice sound even more naturalistic.
"Pygmalion's Bride" is written in free verse, meaning it doesn't use a consistent meter or rhyme scheme. However, scattered end rhymes still shape the poem's pace and tone while creating a musical sound.
Take, for example, lines 15 and 16—"I drowned him out. / I heard him shout." Here, end rhyme highlights how Galatea and Pygmalion oppose one another; even as she tries to silence him, he insists upon being heard.
In another rhyming couplet, lines 21 and 22, rhyme shapes the poem's tone:
He brought me pearls and necklaces and rings.
He called them girly things.
Here, end rhyme creates a mocking, sing-song sound which expresses Galatea's frustration with Pygmalion's demeaning gifts.
In the poem's final two stanzas, exact and slant rhymes increase considerably, largely because of a sequence of assonant short /a/ sounds in words like "tack," "climax," and "act." This speeds the poem's pace, mirroring the escalation of Galatea's feigned passion. The poem's final line, "Simple as that," creates a slant rhyme with those earlier assonant words, giving the poem a sense of closure and lending the final couplet a dry, humorous tone.
"Pygmalion's Bride" is spoken by Galatea. In Greek mythology, Galatea was a beautiful statue carved by the skilled sculptor Pygmalion—a statue so beautiful, in fact, that its creator fell in love with it. At Pygmalion's request, Aphrodite, the goddess of love, turned Galatea into a living woman, and the couple were married.
In Duffy's rendition of the tale, Galatea wants nothing to do with Pygmalion. At the beginning of the poem, she "play[s] statue" in order to avoid his sexual overtures. When Pygmalion kisses her, Galatea lies "still"; when he speaks to her, she ignores his words; when he prods and scratches her, she doesn't "bruise" or "scar." However, Galatea soon discovers that acting like an inanimate object does little to dissuade Pygmalion. If anything, it excites him.
So she "change[s] tack," or strategy, and instead becomes "warm," "pliable," and human. As a human, Galatea responds to Pygmalion's touch with exaggerated pleasure (the polar opposite of her earlier indifference). To her amusement and satisfaction, this performance drives Pygmalion away once and for all. The poem thus reveals that Pygmalion was only interested in Galatea as a pure, untouched object which he could control and dominate—not as a real, living human with thoughts and desires of her own. This predicament might not just be Galatea's: plenty of men, the poem hints, are interested in women for only so long as those women aren't interested in them.
It's worth noting that here, Galatea's transformation happens according to her will, rather than through Aphrodite's power as in the original myth. Duffy's version of Galatea has total control over her own state of being.
The setting of "Pygmalion's Bride" is nonspecific. The reader could easily assume the poem takes place in ancient Cyprus, just like the myth upon which it's based—but there are no concrete details related to time and place here.
However, the poem's use of anachronistic (and often specifically British) colloquialisms like "shtum," "got hot," "jawed," and "screamed my head off" suggests that Galatea and Pygmalion's story doesn't belong to any one place or time. Rather, the conflicts which arise in the poem—like sexual hypocrisy and the objectification of women—feel universally relevant, from antiquity to today. Through its cheeky, contemporary language, the poem critiques Duffy's own modern British world, but also looks askance at a longer history of misogyny.
Carol Ann Duffy is an award-winning Scottish poet and playwright who served as the United Kingdom's first female Poet Laureate from 2009 to 2019. In her fondness for dramatic monologues, Duffy follows in the footsteps of writers like Robert Browning and T. S. Eliot. Duffy has also written on the impact of Confessionalist poet Sylvia Plath, whose groundbreaking work inspired her to write about women's interior lives. In turn, Duffy has influenced and supported the careers of other female writers, including Alice Oswald, Kate Clanchy, and Jeanette Winterson.
"Pygmalion's Bride" was published in Duffy's celebrated 1999 collection The World's Wife, which retells the stories of famous and infamous men from history and folklore from the perspectives of their female counterparts. Through conversational, witty language, The World's Wife highlights the experiences of women which have been otherwise overlooked or misrepresented. The collection features many mythological figures, including Circe, Demeter, Eurydice, Medusa, and Penelope.
"Pygmalion's Bride" is spoken by Galatea, the wife of Pygmalion. In Greek myth, Pygmalion was a skilled sculptor who fell in love with a beautiful statue he carved from ivory. At his request, Aphrodite, the goddess of love, turned the ivory woman into a living human, and Pygmalion married her. The myth of Pygmalion and Galatea was originally popularized by Ovid's Metamorphoses, and has since been adapted into a wide variety of mediums, including paintings, plays, and films.
Carol Ann Duffy was born in 1955 and grew up under the influence of the second-wave feminist movement of the 1960s and '70s. While first-wave feminism focused primarily on securing women's suffrage, second-wave feminism critiqued patriarchal structures more broadly and encompassed issues like sexuality, domestic violence, and reproductive rights.
Duffy wrote The World's Wife during the rise of third wave-feminism in the 1990s. Third-wave feminism reintroduced older conflicts under the lens of intersectionality: classism, racism, and transgender rights were considered key issues within this movement. Third-wave feminism also focused on reclaiming terms and structures typically used to disempower women. In a sense, The World's Wife takes part in this reclamation by retelling traditionally male-centric stories from women's perspectives.
The influence of second and third-wave feminism can be seen in "Pygmalion's Bride," with its playful critique of sexual hypocrisy and the objectification of women, as well as across Duffy's larger body of work, which often highlights the experiences of women living within male-dominated societies.
About the Poet — Learn more about Carol Ann Duffy's life and work by reading this short biography, courtesy of the Poetry Foundation.
On the Myth of Pygmalion and Galatea — Read about the myth of Pygmalion and Galatea and its subsequent adaptations in this brief reference entry, courtesy of Encyclopedia Brittanica.
“Pygmalion and Galatea” by Jean-Léon Gérôme — Visualize the poem using this famous artistic rendition of Pygmalion and Galatea by French painter Jean-Léon Gérôme.
Ovid's Pygmalion and the Statue — Read an early version of the story of Pygmalion and his statue from Ovid's Metamorphoses, as translated by A.S. Kline.
An Interview with Duffy — In this interview with the Independent, Carol Ann Duffy discusses The World's Wife shortly after its publication.