The Aquamarine had converted into a colossal Felliniesque circus. Monsters and fairies fraternized in bars, mermaids sauntered along the deck, and a drunk Frankenstein got into a heated argument with a sailor statue at the entrance of a pub. Marco, Marisa, Robert and Eliana stopped at the onboard studio for a quick photo session and then merged into the audience clumping on the mezzanines to watch the blues concert in the packed atrium. Once the show ended, it was time for the ball in the central pool area. Passengers in costumes already filled Deck 11, which had been embellished with multicolored neons that caressed the indigo velvet of the night.
The four friends spotted Zoe perched at the bar in a rainbow attire—floating tunic, her short, brown hair dyed in seven colors—and climbed the stairs to the platform on Deck 12 to join her, Jean-Philippe in a yellow-green football uniform and his companions dressed as Mafia tugs. Soon a burlesque show began onstage, animated by a DJ and a trepidant house selection, a contortionist in a white spandex amid anti-Euclidean manoeuvers, a fire-eater (leather pants, the lustrous chest waxed for the delight of women and less orthodox men), and oneiric cancan queens with their plumage, skirts and petticoats capturing the iridescent stage lights.
Descending to Deck 11, the group improvised a square dance and swapped pairs. Zoe moved from Jean-Philippe to the eccentric singer Crispin in a dark suit and Hawaiian shirt, Marisa made a duo with the drummer and so on. Marco, freed from his coat, wound up with Eliana. Marisa danced with Jean-Philippe and stretched her gaze to the two of them—they chatted and failed a step. One more swap and Marisa was with Robert. By now, Marco and Eliana had retreated to a corner without pausing their talk. Indignation thundered inside Marisa along with the music. She couldn't tell anymore if the problem was Eliana, Marco or both, and she didn't care. In a blind flash, Marisa stopped dancing, prompted to make a scene.
Robert prevented the worst, holding her by the waist. His smile calmed her down, his touch a caress. When Marisa realized, she was focused on his moves. It didn't take long for Marco and Eliana to return, and one track blended with another and another until the dance ended in a puff of heat and fatigue. The four friends left Zoe and her troupe at the snack bar, heading next to the stern. Away from the lights, they sprawled on chaise loungers and watched the sky dotted with stars. Marisa stole a glance at a withdrawn Marco and, to remind him she was there, squeezed his hand in anguish. Marco squeezed hers back—almost by courtesy—and released it.
"I can't believe tomorrow is already the last day of the cruise," commented Eliana without addressing anyone in particular.
"And the day after tomorrow is back to routine as usual," said Robert.
"Not necessarily," she countered, and here her customary politeness snapped with an anomalous note. She immediately softened her tone. "Marco will prepare a new literature curriculum including the study of archetypes."
Without hiding her surprise, Marisa stared at Marco.
"Really? You never told me that."
"I didn't want to bore you with my education theories." He shrugged. "Actually, I was inspired by the custom ball. Literature is the perfect subject for exploring the archetypes that determine our behavior and mold our worldview. The students will be able to detect archetypes in their own personalities, thus benefiting from their positive aspects and avoiding the negative ones."
"How does that work?" Robert inquired.
Marco's eyes now unraveled an enthusiasm only waiting for encouragement to manifest.
"I start with Jung's concept that archetypes are universal personality traits and behavior patterns transmitted from generation to generation since immemorial times. They are matrixes guiding human conduct. Author Caroline Myss provides an in-depth analysis that I intend to apply in the study of literary characters."
"I don't understand the connection between your idea and the costume ball," Marisa retorted with a belated accusation leaching out in her voice. She felt betrayed for she had no idea of his plans, whereas Eliana seemed to know all the details.
"We're surrounded by archetypes. For example, here we have Lara Croft, James Sparrow, Peter Pan and Dracula: the Warrior, the Rebel, the Child and the Vampire." Marco indicated a group passing by. The girl in the Lara Croft costume, noticing his gaze, winked as she pretended to lasso him. "Just look how the four of us, like many passengers, opted for the Vampire. It's a symptomatic archetype of our era."
The other three asked why. Marco clarified: the human being needed an archetype to represent the link with the spiritual plane. Such was the Priest. However, in face of the exacerbated materialism in the world and the Church's implication in innumerous scandals, mankind had replaced the discredited Priest archetype with the Vampire archetype—a powerful creature endowed with eternal youth, sensuality and beauty inhabiting earthly darkness as opposed to celestial light. It disseminated in popular culture because it was the perfect expression of a narcissistic society reigned by individualism and superficial values.
"The Vampire is the shadow of mankind," Marco summed.
"Interesting. So narcissism is also a result of culture. I've never thought of it in those terms," Robert said, meditative, which merited a hard glance from Eliana.
"If you pay attention," Marco pondered, "culture favors the scission between different social groups and, therefore, collective narcissism. Society is lost in a war of races, genders, beliefs, preferences, ideologies. And each group judges itself superior to the others."
He added that the globalized culture also encouraged individual narcissism since it rewarded ambition and focused on images: the image a person projected was worth more than their essence. The most valued attributes were wealth, social status and beauty. The world had become a mirror. So much energy dedicated to appearances robbed people's energy for fortifying their internal structure with ethics, wisdom and self-acceptance.
"Like the pathological narcissist, the globalized culture boasts glamor without substance. In the inside it's hollow. It compels people to be individualistic and base their actions on preying archetypes, vampirizing one another rather than cultivating their inner world and deep bonds," Marco argued.
"It's true. We live for the external world, selfies, irrelevancies, celebrities," said Marisa. "Relationships can be instantly created or deleted on social media, which goes to show likes are not enough for cementing friendships. Those require an investment of time and no one is up to that anymore. We can count real friends on the fingers of one hand."
"That's obvious. Real friends don't demand that you post pretentious selfies to impress them nor that you pretend to be always feeling great. Happiness has turned into slavery, everybody must be happy all the time. Otherwise they need medicines. As if sadness wasn't as natural as happiness, as if one could exist without the other, as if we didn't have the right to be unhappy."
Who barked that out was Eliana, and with such a stinging intonation it disconcerted Marisa. The well-mannered blonde duchess lately had taken to provoking her with gratuitous lectures. Marisa held back a mean remark about Eliana's own pretentiousness and copious smiles.
"The consumer society is governed by marketing, which flatters us with shiny images and words,' Marco replied. "We're spoiled and wish to be pampered. If something isn't satisfactory in a relationship, it's easier to replace it with another than to make an effort for it to work. Imagine, there are breakup services to guarantee minimum effort even for that. But from replacement to replacement people don't mature and get stuck in a stage of childish self-centeredness. Plus, treating relationships in a superficial manner corrodes their meaning."
Whirling in the spiral of time, Marisa drank the nectar of his every word, which kindled the palate of her spirit. She remembered her enchantment during Marco's first class in high school—as fascinating as Marco himself. And by reliving the enchantment, she realized how much daily life and practicalities had stolen that initial fascination. Desire was mystery, and in their case mystery had turned into hurt. What changed wasn't Marco but her gaze.
"Only you and Robert are wearing vampire costumes," she noted, puzzled. "Eliana chose a comic character and I a fairytale princess. Why did you say the four of us assumed the Vampire archetype?"
She didn't want Marco to stop talking. She wanted the spell of his voice, his words, his eyes. Marisa wasn't any longer in the classroom meeting him for the first time: this was a replay of their conversations in his apartment many classes later. They defied each other, argued, flirted. While they fenced ideas, the parallel thoughts collided and entangled in a subterranean tension. Carnality surfaced. Sometimes their discussions ended in bed, which leveled everything.
Marco also revisited the past, and the kindling of those lost hours transpired on his face. He opened up a smile.
"Eliana's Catwoman corresponds to the Femme Fatale archetype and shares certain characteristics with the Vampire. While he seduces to steal the vital energy of his victims, she seduces to take possession of resources from those caught in her web."
"What about me? A princess isn't predatory like the Vampire and the Femme Fatale." Marisa directed him a piercing stare. "All she needs is a prince to make her happy."
It wasn't that simple, said Marco. Every archetype bore light and shade, positive and negative qualities. Nothing was absolute. The Vampire itself could be a beneficial force as it confronted a person with their own shadow: fear, insecurity, petty emotions they hid from others and sometimes from themselves. If someone didn't face their own shadow, it grew stronger until controlling them.
Robert and Eliana listened with an absorbed albeit remote expression, mulling over their personal questions. Marisa broke the silence, as Marco's logic eluded her.
"You still haven't explained the association of my Snow White costume with the Vampire."
He didn't respond straight away and, when he spoke, it was with tenderness.
"In the case of the Princess, her shadow is the damsel in distress that depends on a prince to save her. This archetype then consolidates the mistaken notion that a woman is weak and needs someone to fight her battles while she remains passive in the castle, being only required to remain devoted and beautiful. The Princess archetype can resort to manipulation to get what she wants. When demanding that another person takes care of her vital needs, she adopts the behavior of the Vampire." Marco made an imperceptible pause. "The Prince has his own battles to win, Mari. The Princess shouldn't depend on him all the time. She needs to step out the castle and face the world in order to become Queen."
"But doesn't love imply giving support to a loved one?"
"Co-dependency isn't the mark of a healthy relationship. Nor domination, be it explicit or implicit through manipulation."
Marisa silenced, thinking about how she had dealt with her situation, about the moments she had sought Marco because she couldn't stand to be alone with her distress. She had placed indeed her life and happiness in Marco's hands—and that was too heavy a burden for anyone to carry.