Legs or Penises? Two Men Encounter Scylla, by Ithell Colquhoun

I remember some excruciating visits to art galleries with my son when he was very young: there is nothing more embarrassing than trying to explain an explicit work of art out loud to a seven-year-old in a silent room! I’ve drawn on this to imagine a dialogue between a well-informed father and teenage son as together they view Ithell Colquhoun’s 1938 painting of herself in the bath, which is a double image in classic surrealist fashion. 

Perhaps I should give a bad language warning in advance of this post because, rather hilariously I thought, the voice recognition software I use to dictate these posts actually replaced the word ‘dick’ with asterisks. I’d say we really do need to grow up a bit re. talking our bodies and of course that’s what this story is about, and how art can help.

I hope you like it!

Scylla by Ithell Colqhoun, 1938.

A father and son are in an art gallery.

Dad is a thin-hipped, bespectacled, purple-trousered, left-leaning man in his ’40s.

His son is suffering adolescence by continually staring at the ground and thereby hoping to hide his scarlet acne.  He wears his fringe long for the same reason. Strangely, his clothes echoed Dad’s: baggy trousers, loose jacket and trainers.

They stand side by side in front of Scylla by Ithell Colquhoun. Mum has gone to the loo.

Dad: What about this one, then?

Son looks up, and then quickly down at the floor again: Stupid wrinkly legs, like Nana’s.

Dad: Legs? I see penises.

Son, in agonies: Dad! No. Oh, Dad. Please.

Dad: What? No need to be embarrassed. It’s what half the population come with. Whoops. I mean are born with.

Son, moving away: Dad, please.

Dad: Come back here. This is educational. See how it’s the view of someone lying in the bath as well as a landscape?

Son, looking sideways at the label next to the picture: It’s by a woman! Why would she paint her legs as, as, you know…

Dad: Knobs? Willies?

Son: Dicks.

Dad: OK, that’s what we’re saying is it?

Son (mutters): Dickhead.

Dad: I can hear you. And maybe it should be dicklegs, in this case.

Son: Sorry Dad.

Dad: Why don’t you use that phone for something other than TikTok and look up the name of the painting.

Son, quoting: ‘Scylla was a fearsome sea monster with twelve feet and six heads each with three rows of teeth. She dee-welt—

Dad: Dwelt.

Son: ‘on a rock opposite a whirlpool and many sailors, including six of the crew of O…O…

Dad: Odysseus?

Son: Yep. Him. ‘Six of the crew were eaten when trying to pass through. Sick. (He looks up at the painting.) Look, there’s a boat and it’s heading in between…

Dad: Yes, it is. Not good news for the boat.

Son: So she’s boasting, like? She’s saying you’ll be destroyed in my, my, my…

Dad: Vagina? Fanny?

Son: That.

Dad: Maybe it is about power. Men like to portray themselves armed with weapons. Sword equals penis. I mean dick. Which is not helpful, really, when we are all trying to get along and manage that side of things with care and consideration. You do agree that sex should be about care and consideration? And respect?

Son: Yeah, yeah. We did all that at school.

Dad: Well, doing it in real life is a bit more difficult let me tell you.

Son: I guess. So does she think I should be afraid of women’s, women’s, you know?

Dad: I’m not sure it’s that. Women are expected to be pretty, accommodating, alluring.

Son: But not dangerous?

Dad: No. Dangerous isn’t a good look for women.

Son: But here in this painting it is.

Dad: So, what’s your analysis?

Son: My what?

Dad: What do you think is going on in this painting and what is the artist trying to achieve?

Son, daring to look straight at the picture for the first time: The legs are women’s legs.

Dad: Yes.

Son: But they’re ugly and they look like dicks.

Dad: Right.

Son: And she doesn’t care.

Dad: OK.

Son: The boat is about to get smashed up, wrecked, sunk, whatever.

Dad: Definitely.

Son: And she doesn’t care.

Dad: Should she care?

Son: I guess it’s up to her. It’s her body. She can paint it however she likes.

Dad, smiles: That’s pretty good, I’d say.

Son: Thanks.

Dad: So do you like the picture?

Son: No way, dad. It’s gross!

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