It's just about the worst story ever, this fairy tale about Creation that puts the blame on Mame. Or Eve, as the case may be. It's hard for me to get past that. I'm thinking again of my 12-year-old daughter, and the world she inhabits, and the world I hope she will inhabit, and I do not want it to be influenced by this old school notion of WOMAN as troublesome and manipulative and deceitful.
As you can see, I have to let a few things out before I can read this story the way I read most stories in the Bible, looking for myself in them, analyzing them the way I might a dream.
But perhaps it's good to remember that knowledge will not kill us; it will only compel us to look at who we really are. It may hurt, but it will not kill us.