When Tarzan kills a leopard to protect Jane, she should feel safe. Instead, she feels the x : gratitude mixed with horror, love mixed with the realization that his solution to every problem is death. When she teaches him to use a knife and fork, the x is comedy laced with tragedy — she is domesticating a predator, and she knows it.
Not the shame of a Victorian virgin caught in a loincloth. No. The Shame of Jane is the skeleton in the treehouse. It’s the unspoken question: What does it mean for a “civilized” woman to desire the very thing her society has taught her to fear? tarzanx shame of jane work