The Last Unicorn and a Better Remembrance

“The unicorn lived in a lilac wood, and she lived all alone.”

This is how Peter S. Beagle swings open the door to the world of his classic, The Last Unicorn. But before I was able to make words out of letters, and stories out of ink on a page, my unicorn lived in the 1982 animated classic under the same name. Her world unfolded to me again and again in a VHS found on the second-from-the-top shelf of a movie rental in the corner of a grocery store, because—once upon a time—that was a thing. There was no lilac there; There was a lot of yellow, franticly flashing and buzzing of overhead light. But I felt the magic in standing on my tip-toes to push the tape across the counter. I held the magic in my throat, knowing what would happen to my unicorn, and longing to be caught up in it again. And later, I would sit entranced on the floor of my grandmother’s living room, watching the medieval Unicorn Tapestries coming to life in the opening credits.

Read More