Sex with animals is eternally fascinating. Negligence our brain that registers disgust also seems to accommodate our primal instincts, with bestiality, often there is the intoxicating fear that at the bottom of that revulsion is our personal sexual desire. We’ve internalised enough Freud to understand, or think we understand, that might know about repress is the thing that we’d like. Nevertheless the fascination can be aesthetic and intellectual – bestiality is indeed unnatural we will not help but admire its artistic duality.
There’s enough of it happening in western art – in the escapades of Zeus to A Midsummer Nights Dream to Beauty along with the Beast to Edward Albee’s 2002 play The Goat. It’s really a staple desire our civilisation. And Woody Allen’s movie Whatever you Always aspired to Know About Sex proves that sex with sheep is fundamentally funny. What about people for whom it isn’t a poetic culmination or perhaps a comic set-piece, however a real sexual drive? How must they manage society’s disgust, and just how do they actually ‘do it’?
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