Sex with animals is eternally fascinating. The part of our brain that registers disgust also seems to store our primal instincts, with bestiality, often there is the intoxicating fear that at the end of this revulsion is your own virility. We’ve internalised enough Freud to learn, or think we realize, that what we repress is the thing that we wish. Nevertheless the fascination is also aesthetic and intellectual – bestiality can be so unnatural that we will not help but admire its artistic duality.
There’s enough happening in western art – in the escapades of Zeus to A Midsummer Nights Dream to Beauty as well as the Beast to Edward Albee’s 2002 play The Goat. It’s really a staple dream of our civilisation. And Woody Allen’s movie Whatever you Always aspired to Find out about Sex proves that sex with sheep is fundamentally funny. But what about those people to whom it’s not a poetic culmination or a comic set-piece, however a real sexual drive? Just how do they handle society’s disgust, and how can they actually ‘do it’?
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