The Fairytale Feminista
Answering life’s questions one fairy tale at a time.
A Fairy Godmother's Inner Life
When I first saw the Disney version of Cinderella, I was more interested in the Fairy Godmother than the girl who called her.
Let me quickly say, I have nothing against Cinderella. I know there’s a strong campaign out there against fairy tales in general because the romances are problematic. I think of them as more allegorical instead of aspirational. It’s how I’ve been able to write a blog called Fairytale Feminista without feeling my feminism is in any way questionable.
When I first saw the Disney version of Cinderella, I was more interested in the Fairy Godmother than the girl who called her.
Let me quickly say, I have nothing against Cinderella. I know there’s a strong campaign out there against fairy tales in general because the romances are problematic. I think of them as more allegorical instead of aspirational. It’s how I’ve been able to write a blog called Fairytale Feminista without feeling my feminism is in any way questionable.
To return to the purpose of this post, I wanted to know what happened to the Fairy Godmother (I’m capitalizing her title because she didn’t have a name) after she sent Cinderella off to the ball. Or what about the three fairies that kept Aurora, the Sleeping Beauty, safe in the forest for all those years? Or the old man in the Golden Goose, for that matter, who told the Simpleton where to find his prize?
Photo by Cibele Bergamim on Pexels.com
We never learn more about the helpers in fairy tales. Whether the stories give them credit or not, the helpers are the reason many protagonists are able to realize their dreams. And yet we see them come into the story and just as quickly retreat from it. Movies and books seem obsessed with the inner workings of the villain. Where’s the interest in the secondary or tertiary characters who move the story?
Who would you like to see from fairy tales turned into a story? Are there any you can recommend?
In the meantime, they say you should write the book you think is missing from the shelves. Stay tuned!
Fairy Tales for All
I came to an odd and slightly disturbing realization the other day. I haven’t read any books written by men in years. This was not intentionally done. But it did get me thinking about the type of books I read and whether it’s become something niche. I read fantasy—all kinds, historical fiction, and mystery when I need something quick and dirty (that has nothing to do with spice levels, BTW). And yet for more than a few years, none of those books were written by men.
I came to an odd and slightly disturbing realization the other day. I haven’t read any books written by men in years. This was not intentionally done. But it did get me thinking about the type of books I read and whether it’s become something niche. I read fantasy—all kinds, historical fiction, and mystery when I need something quick and dirty (that has nothing to do with spice levels, BTW). And yet for more than a few years, none of those books were written by men.
I admit, I’ve made an effort to read indie authors and they are predominately women. There tends to be at least a romantic subplot and, unsurprisingly, quite a few have a fairy tale bent.
Is that the reason?
It’s a long-held belief that fairy tales are generally the domain of women and girls. Recently, writers have made an effort to make them accessible to all women and girls, where in the past they were clearly dominated by a young European aesthetic. Now they encompass various ages, ethnicities, races, body types—but what about the guys?
I read a lot of fairy tale retellings, and the audience is clearly female. Why? Is there something inherently feminine about fairy tales? The protagonists are both male and female. Jack and the Beanstalk, The Valiant Tailor and The Golden Goose all have male leads. Some, like Beauty and the Beast, have dual points of view. And superhero stories, long considered the purview of men, are just fairy tales with more fighting. So, why the discrepancy?
I don’t have an answer for any of it, but I hope you do. Any recommendations for fairy tale retellings written by men?
Have you noticed any unintentional patterns in your reading?
New Project (Old Fairy Tale, New Tricks)
Sometimes I think about how it must have been to be Cinderella. Not the evil step-family and abuse part. Afterward. She met a prince. He married her and brought her back to his palace.
Then what?
It must have been an uncomfortable transition. She went from being a slave to a princess. Did she worry she wasn’t up for the challenge? Did she fall into familiar patterns and start mopping the floor or scouring pots with the scullery maid?
Sometimes I think about how it must have been to be Cinderella. Not the evil step-family and abuse part. Afterward. She met a prince. He married her and brought her back to his palace.
Then what?
It must have been an uncomfortable transition. She went from being a slave to a princess. Did she worry she wasn’t up for the challenge? Did she fall into familiar patterns and start mopping the floor or scouring pots with the scullery maid?
Did she ever take back her original name?
What about the servants? Did they treat her well or did they whisper behind her back that she wasn’t worthy of the role? Help her ease in or play mean tricks?
And she wasn’t the only one. How did Snow White, the Valiant Tailor, or even the boy with the golden goose?
I think about these things when I’m trying something new. A little over a year ago I published the last installment of my Enchanted Path series and since then I’ve worked on 3 different projects to release at least one or two <fingers-crossed> sometime next year. While all are in the fantasy genre, they’re in new subgenres—untried, untested.
I know the correlation isn’t immediately obvious, but each new story feels like a new life as an author. Will it work out? Is this the one that makes a breakthrough? Or will the metaphorical servants put me in my place? That sounds melodramatic, but it makes it no less true.
Fairy tales teach us, among other things, that taking a risk offers the chance at a happily ever after. So, I continue to work on my new ideas.
How about you? Anything new as the year comes to a close?
The First Story
While we have no concrete evidence, it’s safe to assume that the first story told was a warning from one homo sapien to another.
“Hey, in a time before now, I went in that direction with a hunting party and something with teeth and claws ate half of them. Be careful.”
While we have no concrete evidence, it’s safe to assume that the first story told was a warning from one homo sapien to another.
“Hey, in a time before now, I went in that direction with a hunting party and something with teeth and claws ate half of them. Be careful.”
But we are a race of curious adventurers. We’d have to be considering we saw things like lobsters, potatoes and prickly pears and said, “Let’s eat it.” So, of course whoever heard that story went in that very direction and confronted the clawed, toothed animal wanting to know what it was and if he, or she, could have a better outcome. We don’t know the end of that story, but we’re here so more than one somebody survived and continued the race.
Then what about fairy tales? More than a few are warning stories—be careful in the woods, stranger danger—but just as many, if not more, are about behavior. Would Cinderella have gotten a fairy godmother assist if she’d been pill? Could Jack have gotten away with the golden goose and magic harp if he hadn’t done a good turn for a stranger and had a hungry mother at home?
Image by Gordon Johnson from Pixabay
Fairy tales warn and assure us that virtuous behavior will, eventually, be rewarded. It also gives hope to people in dire circumstances that anyone can change their fortunes (and maybe become royalty). It’s an idea that gives me comfort when the world isn’t friendly.
Modern Fairy Tale?
What makes a fairy tale modern? Does it have to be completely original? Is it a traditional story retold with modern sensibilities? Or is there a third option?
Original fairy tales are hard to come by, especially if you agree with the notion that only a set number of stories exist. There are days I believe that (like when I look at the movie landscape full of prequels, sequels and retellings). On good days I know there are new stories—or at least new to me. I haven’t read stories from all the cultures of the world and there are tons.
What makes a fairy tale modern? Does it have to be completely original? Is it a traditional story retold with modern sensibilities? Or is there a third option?
Original fairy tales are hard to come by, especially if you agree with the notion that only a set number of stories exist. There are days I believe that (like when I look at the movie landscape full of prequels, sequels and retellings). On good days I know there are new stories—or at least new to me. I haven’t read stories from all the cultures of the world and there are tons.
Retellings are very popular now. At least half the books in my TBR list are implicitly or explicitly retellings of well-known stories. I know Christmas just past, but my favorite retelling is any movie or TV show that uses A Christmas Carol as a framework.
My Top 3:
A Diva’s Christmas Carol: Love the Behind the Music as a stand-in for the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come
A Mickey’s Christmas Carol: Great original song
A Muppets Christmas Carol: Piggy is my hero!
Honorable mention for Scrooged, but mostly for Carole Kane
I think a modern fairy tale is all those things—original, undiscovered, retooled and reformed by a deft author—and maybe something I still haven’t thought of yet.
Do you have a favorite modern fairy tale?
Does it Matter Where you Start?
Have you ever noticed that fairy tales don’t start with:
“Once upon a time a forlorn prince looked out his window and wondered if he’d ever find his true love…”
OR
“There was once a princess whose father decreed one day that her potential husband would be determined by a stranger’s ability to outwit a troublesome giant…”
Have you ever noticed that fairy tales don’t start with:
“Once upon a time a forlorn prince looked out his window and wondered if he’d ever find his true love…”
OR
“There was once a princess whose father decreed one day that her potential husband would be determined by a stranger’s ability to outwit a troublesome giant…”
Fairy tales are stories of the fantastical and nothing is more awe-inspiring than someone from lowly beginnings being given the keys to the castle—sometimes literally. They’re a come-up. Would Snow White be a fairy tale if she never left the castle? If Jack was the son of a successful merchant, would we root for him chopping down that beanstalk? I’m guessing not. Fairy tales need someone down on their luck to overcome impossible odds with a magical assist.
The notable exception is Red Riding Hood. Her circumstances are a complete unknown, but we can make assumptions about her background. She has enough money for a red cape—not cheap. Her mother has enough food to send extra to Red’s grandma. And said grandmother has her own place. But Red doesn’t get a prince or a castle. Does that mean it’s less a fairy tale and more a cautionary tale?
I suppose the question is can ordinariness be enough or do fairy tale characters have to be utterly wretched?
Inspired to Fairy Tale
Once upon a time there was a box. Within it was contained all the stories of the world. Stories of grit to stir the soul. Stories of ardor to touch the heart. Stories of humor to lighten the load. Stories of tension to quicken the pulse. But the box contained more than just stories.
Once upon a time there was a box. Within it was contained all the stories of the world. Stories of grit to stir the soul. Stories of ardor to touch the heart. Stories of humor to lighten the load. Stories of tension to quicken the pulse. But the box contained more than just stories.
It also contained secrets that inspired creativity and frustration. And sometimes, without warning, the stories disappeared.
Okay, that was my oblique way of describing TV or more specifically, TV shows that end on a cliffhanger and never come back. We’ve all had shows we invested in—let’s call one Pushing Daisies—and one day it just wasn’t there anymore. To be fair, it was after the first writers’ strike and a lot of shows vanished. However, that happens more and more lately. It’s almost like a plot point for a fairy tale.
One day an intrepid woman, maddened by the loss of yet another story found herself drawn to a wonderous thing—a blank notebook. With the lost story still humming in her head, she opened it and, armed with a pen, began to write. With her chosen weapons, she conjured fully formed beings and worlds well-trodden and newly discovered. The power of her imagination was able to do the impossible. She brought the stories back.
The moral of the story is fairy tales come from everywhere and anywhere. When you can’t find one—make one.
When The Fairy Well Runs Dry
What’s a blogger to do when she writes a blog about fairy tales and she’s run out of fairy tales?
What’s a blogger to do when she writes a blog about fairy tales and she’s run out of fairy tales?
The obvious answer is—don’t be silly, there’s always more. Between “lost stories” of world cultures and the tons of retellings, I should have plenty to comment on.
The writerly answer is—well, you write your own. An excellent notion except I’m already working on three books at the moment and likely will be until the end of the year.
The tougher answer is—change the topic. Not an easy proposition when your blog is named Fairytale Feminista.
It’s time to cobble together a solution, which I’ve decided is to take some of the stress off my fairy tales and let my writer woes do some of the heavy lifting. In other words, I won't just post fairy tale posts, but also some of my writing journey now that I've started a whole new project.
I hope you’ll come along for this ride.
Birth of the Coqui - HH story
We’re still in Hispanic Heritage Month and it felt appropriate that I continue my retelling of Latino fairy tales from my particular corner of Latin America, Puerto Rico.
Another story related to the coquí dates back to the time of the Tainos, the indigenous people of the Caribbean. Admittedly, I took a few liberties with the details, but the conclusion is the same.
We’re still in Hispanic Heritage Month and it felt appropriate that I continue my retelling of Latino fairy tales from my particular corner of Latin America, Puerto Rico.
Another story related to the coquí dates back to the time of the Tainos, the indigenous people of the Caribbean. Admittedly, I took a few liberties with the details, but the conclusion is the same.
There was a water goddess who fell in love with the son of a chief. To show her favor for him, she made sure that he always returned with ample catch when he went fishing. He, in turn, would thank and praise her each time. The goddess, not content to simply love him from afar, came to the chief’s son as a Taino woman. Despite taking human form, the man knew who the woman was, and they fell even deeper in love. But she couldn’t remain indefinitely. She promised to return the next evening with the rising of the moon.
When the man returned, instead of finding the woman and goddess he loved, he was confronted by Juracán, the mercurial side of Guabancex, goddess of the weather. Perhaps Juracán, envious of the other goddess’s happiness or overcome with desire for the man, caused the skies to darken and blew down great winds to snatch the chief’s son. The water goddess tried to save her lover, but in vain. She called his name over and over again until her voice grew hoarse, but she never saw him again. In her grief she created a tiny frog that echoed her cries, calling to the man named Coquí.
Happy Hispanic Heritage Halves
In the US, September 15th marks the beginning of Hispanic Heritage Month, which runs until October 15th. Having half of one month and then another month makes for odd celebrations—it sneaks up on you and then leaves almost silently. Sometimes I don’t remember it’s Hispanic Heritage Month until I see a commercial wishing me a happy one.
In the US, September 15th marks the beginning of Hispanic Heritage Month, which runs until October 15th. Having half of one month and then another month makes for odd celebrations—it sneaks up on you and then leaves almost silently. Sometimes I don’t remember it’s Hispanic Heritage Month until I see a commercial wishing me a happy one.
I wondered at the choice. So, I did some research. It turns out it was originally a week for decades and then grew by 1989, which explains why as a kid I didn’t know about it and then suddenly I was eight and we were told we had a month to celebrate. I also learned it’s based on quite a few Latin American independence days, which is why it starts in the middle of September.
I’m hard pressed to relate this to fairy tales because of the lack of correlation. It’s always been difficult to find any original stories that haven’t been influenced by European ones. But there is one I found that I’ve always liked. It’s the legend of the Coquí, the frog of Puerto Rico.
Ignacio, the King of the Forest and a parrot, was disgusted by how lazy and complacent his subjects had become. To encourage them he challenged them to a race and that one of each species could represent them in the race. There would be no consequences for losing, but the winner would be given a surprise gift. The animals chose their strongest and fastest but didn’t take it too seriously. However, the tiny coquí, who had no voice, did. They trained a champion in the hopes it would outstrip the bigger, stronger animals.
The day of the race, the biggest and strongest animals lined up next to the tiny coquí and sprinted forward leaving the frog behind. And yet, the coquí used his powerful legs to jump past the leaders and won. King Ignacio, true to his word, spread his wings and chanted over the tiny frogs and gave them a voice. They, in turn were able to respond with a special song, “COQUÍ, COQUÍ.” And it was a reminder those who are overlooked can make their voices heard.
A comforting thought when your month is really half of two cobbled together.
Plot Vs. Character, Fairy Edition
Plot Vs. Character—Fairy Edition
First, let’s address the elephant in the room…or the blog. I’ve been gone for a really long time. It wasn’t intentional, but it was with a good reason. I’ve been working on the last book in my Enchanted Path series and being a final book in a series, it’s become a bit of a bear. More on that in another post. This one is a question I’ve been asking myself while working through (seemingly) endless edits.
Plot Vs. Character—Fairy Edition
First, let’s address the elephant in the room…or the blog. I’ve been gone for a really long time. It wasn’t intentional, but it was with a good reason. I’ve been working on the last book in my Enchanted Path series and being a final book in a series, it’s become a bit of a bear. More on that in another post. This one is a question I’ve been asking myself while working through (seemingly) endless edits.
Plot or Character?
I know people who prefer a story that is character driven—where the plot is solely there to advance the development of the character—and like a deep dive into someone’s (or many someone’s) emotions.
Others prefer plot over character where the person (or persons) are a device through which the reader understands what’s happening. As a speculative fiction writer I tend to fall in the latter camp. I start a story with a problem or a situation and then I think about the best and worst people to deal with it.
The pitfall of character stories is sometimes nothing actually happens, at least not beyond the character’s mind. On the other hand, when plot of all important, a story can feel more like the Perils of Pauline, jumping from one disaster to another with people you barely know.
As the title of this post suggests, I wanted to look at this through a fairy tale lens. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that fairy tales are plot driven. Sometimes the characters don’t even have names, just titles or occupations. However, those stories are also very good at getting to the point of who the characters are and what they have to overcome. Cinderella is good and in a bad situation. The Wolf is bad and hungry.
Having that spelled out means we can focus on what happens to these characters. If we switched out these characters with other people, other things could happen. Red Riding Hood would likely neglect the chores Cinderella does in favor of exploring the woods. If the Giant from Jack and the Beanstalk were stomping about the woods, he’d likely have ignored the three little pigs or smashed all three houses without a second thought. So, characters do matter in plot driven stories.
Longer fairy tales can be character driven. Alice in Wonderland follows the adventures of one specific girl and her development from bored pupil to a queen. Would the story have taken the path it did if Alice had been Snow White or even an older Alice? A lot of the story depends on Alice being who she is at a particular time in her life.
I don’t know if any story can be called plot or character driven. A good story has both concepts playing with or against each other. Maybe it’s more a writer thing than a reader one. As a reader I hope to lose myself in a story with relatable characters and a plot that holds my interest. As a writer only one or the other starts a project.
How about you? Do you think character or plot is more important? Do you think there should be a distinction?
Just Say Fantasy
It's the end of Hispanic Heritage Month in the states and I have a confession to make.
I am a Latin American woman and I don't like magical realism.
It's the end of Hispanic Heritage Month in the states and I have a confession to make.
I am a Latin American woman and I don't like magical realism. It doesn't sound like a scandalous thing to say, but after reading my fair share of Marquez, Borges, Ortega y Gasset, etc. (in the original Spanish) I can soundly say I don't care for it. I also say this knowing how important a genre it has become for the Latino community. I can only speak for myself, but it's not uncommon for Latinos to believe in Catholicism and Paganism at the same time. We've been known to pray to God and also light candles to ancestors to intercede in daily affairs. We can hang a cross at one end of the house and a horseshoe at the other both to ward away the evil eye and negative spirits. Magical realism is a part of our lives.
So I don't mind the idea of magical realism. It's the "literarification" (an invention, I know) of it. I feel about it the same way I feel about Hawthorne. It's overblown and too descriptive with tragedy on every page. But that's not the worst of it. It's a pig with lipstick. Let me explain.
As I'm sure most readers of this blog know, I read fairy tales. I don't just read them for pleasure, but also to understand whether they still speak to a modern mind. For all intents and purposes, magical realism is just long form fairy tales. If you don't know, magical realism is when the fantastical is treated as normal in everyday life. What could be more in keeping with that genre than stories which include fairy godmothers arriving to help scullery maids attend royal balls or planting seeds from a stranger that become portals to a world of giants? And yet, magical realism goes on for pages and pages doing what folklorist can accomplish in 1,000 words or less.
Don't get me wrong. I don't object to length. I like weighty tomes with tons of world-building and fantasy settings. My problem is magical realists, literary magical realists, write what could be interesting fantasy stories, but because the idea of genre fiction is somehow less than worthy choose to add pretension.
That is not to say some people haven't done it well, usually with a lighter touch. These tend to be tagged as rom-coms or cozy fantasy. Or sometimes they work better as movies, such as Like Water for Chocolate, Amelie and Big. There are times I wish I liked it more--it seems like the perfect fit on paper--but being a reader who actually enjoyed the Shakespeare unit and F. Scott Fitzgerald among other literary classics, I've yet to find the literary magical realism book that didn't feel like work.
Maybe I haven't found the recommendation. Any to suggest?
Lives in Hyperbole
In real life, Cinderella would have slipped laxatives into her stepmother and step sisters’ morning tea or packed a bag for the next village. The youngest son in The Golden Goose would have refused to go chopped wood after his two older brothers had maimed themselves. Sleeping Beauty would have heard gossip which invariably went around the castle to find out why no one sowed. The brave little tailor would have killed the flies and then saved it as a fun story the next time he went to the tavern. The Three Little Pigs (putting aside anthropomorphized pigs) would have lived together in a brick house they could have built in half the time and avoided the wolf.
In real life, Cinderella would have slipped laxatives into her stepmother and step sisters’ morning tea or packed a bag for the next village. The youngest son in The Golden Goose would have refused to go chopped wood after his two older brothers had maimed themselves. Sleeping Beauty would have heard gossip which invariably went around the castle to find out why no one sowed. The brave little tailor would have killed the flies and then saved it as a fun story the next time he went to the tavern. The Three Little Pigs (putting aside anthropomorphized pigs) would have lived together in a brick house they could have built in half the time and avoided the wolf.
None of that happened because fairy tales live in hyperbole. Maidens aren’t pretty, they are rare jewels. Boys aren’t just resourceful, they luck into whole new lives. Queens are evil or destined to die (or both). Kings give away their daughters to anyone who can solve a riddle or kill a giant. And I accept that in fairy tales because the format is short story, and it must convey its message in a clear and concise way. Archetypes are helpful in short stories.
Lately I’ve been abandoning books that employ archetypes. While I’m fine with Cinderella having a martyr complex for most of the story knowing she’ll get out of her situation, I am less tolerant of novel-length stories about martyrs who constantly make themselves smaller and artificially unobtrusive. I know why the youngest son (the simpleton) had to go and chop wood, but if a story revolves around a protag that falls into danger every time he leaves the house, I’m annoyed. Keeping the secret of Sleeping Beauty’s (the innocent) calamitous christening is a major plot point, but if not sharing a vital piece of information continually causes problems in a book, I become frustrated.
I think I accept archetypes in short stories because I don’t expect characters to grow or have a real arc. That isn’t true in full-length novels, especially a series. I’ve abandoned books and TV shows for just that reason. Fairy tales need a short hand to convey ideas that just doesn’t work in longer stories.
Are there plots or characters you can only enjoy in the short term?
Universal Fairy Tale Care
The other day my daughter said something that caught me completely off guard. We were watching A Tale Dark and Grimm on Netflix (which if you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend) and there was a reference to Rumpelstiltskin. She turned to me and asked who Rumpelstiltskin was.
Reader, I was flabbergasted!
The other day my daughter said something that caught me completely off guard. We were watching A Tale Dark and Grimm on Netflix (which if you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend) and there was a reference to Rumpelstiltskin. She turned to me and asked who Rumpelstiltskin was.
Reader, I was flabbergasted!
How could it be that my child didn’t know a seminal character from fairy tales? I remember reading the story, among others, to her when she was little. It was the story that started my Fairytale Feminista journey asking the question where fairy tales fit in modern storytelling and life. Where did I go wrong?
It really got me thinking about universality and storytelling. When I was a kid, my friends and I basically watched the same shows, read the same books, and went to the same movies. We had common reference points to communicate with each other. We all knew what it meant when you said, “I feel like Cinderella” or “I’m looking for my Prince Charming”. Now, everyone can have follow a sub-sub-genre of anything that caters to seemingly an audience of a hundred, a dozen, or even less. With all these “curated media experiences” we’ve lost something connective.
Don’t get me wrong. It’s wonderful and amazing that we’ve expanded the lexicon of storytelling by adding more people and experiences that were otherwise lacking (read: European and patriarchal to diverse in all senses of the word). I am happy that I finally see myself in some of my favorite genres. I also miss talking about a book I’m reading with friends and family because they’ve never heard of it.
What does this mean for something as arcane as fairy tales? Will their origins get lost or will the entire genre simply disappear? I know it’s not a dire threat, what with Disney and fairy tale retellings, but even that might one day lose its appeal.
In the meantime, I will continue to watch A Tale Dark and Grimm and fill in any gaps in what I consider a vital education for my daughter. Wish me luck!
Reader, do you think there are still universal stories or should we let go of that idea all together?
Pulling a Prince out of a Bear
As a reader, I love a good and well-considered plot twist. Depending on who you ask there are only six, seven, or thirty-six stories in the world. With that in mind, the only way to very them is with a good twist. Mind you I said a good twist. Too often I’ve been on the receiving end of a story that bends over backward to make a plot work with a twist so implausible it ruins it. There is such a thing as too twisty a plot and I say this as a person who reads fantasy and fairy tales. Even they get it wrong sometimes.
As a reader, I love a good and well-considered plot twist. Depending on who you ask there are only six, seven, or thirty-six stories in the world. With that in mind, the only way to very them is with a good twist. Mind you I said a good twist. Too often I’ve been on the receiving end of a story that bends over backward to make a plot work with a twist so implausible it ruins it. There is such a thing as too twisty a plot and I say this as a person who reads fantasy and fairy tales. Even they get it wrong sometimes.
Recently I read the story of Snow-White and Rose-Red, a story I always think I’ve read because of the Snow White angle. Now I realize why the latter was made into a movie and endlessly used for re-tellings and the former left to languish. In case you haven’t read it either:
Two sisters—Snow-White, the shy bookish one and Rose-Red, the lively, outspoken one—love one another and their mother. One winter day, a bear comes to the door and asks to warm himself by the fire. He and the girls become friends as he visits every day that winter. In the spring, he says he must go and protect his treasure from a bad dwarf. The girls encounter the dwarf many times over the spring and save him from small perils, but he’s never grateful for the help. The last time they meet with the dwarf and the bear, the dwarf begs for his life because the bear has threatened him. The dwarf tells the bear to eat the girls instead, but the bear kills him instead. Suddenly, the bear becomes a prince, explaining that the dwarf had cursed him. The prince marries Snow-White and Rose-Red marries his brother.
Leaving aside the fact that two sisters actually get along in a fairy tale (a twist worthy of the genre), there are so many elements that come out of nowhere that it’s hard to figure out what the point of the story is—be kind to strangers, even bears, that come to the door; always lend a hand even if the recipient is less than deserving; or is it the happily ever after with a prince. That last one works out well for Snow-White, but Rose-Red ends up married to the prince’s unknown brother. Why wasn’t he searching for ways to break his elder brother’s curse? Did he hire the dwarf? I think that’s the real story! I’ll likely have to write it myself.
Have you been blindsided by a plot twist?
Happy Blogoversary
A blogger I follow once wrote about the importance of celebrating writing milestones and I have a big one today. My blog!
There are days when I wonder why I latched on to fairy tales as my theme for a blog. I knew I didn’t want to add another how-to write blog to the world, mostly because I didn’t feel qualified to add my two cents. In truth I still don’t, but for different reasons—namely my way of writing works for me, but not necessarily anyone else.
A blogger I follow once wrote about the importance of celebrating writing milestones and I have a big one today. My blog!
There are days when I wonder why I latched on to fairy tales as my theme for a blog. I knew I didn’t want to add another how-to write blog to the world, mostly because I didn’t feel qualified to add my two cents. In truth I still don’t, but for different reasons—namely my way of writing works for me, but not necessarily anyone else.
I revisited my first post, Welcome to My Corner, and it brought back a lot of memories. I had finished my first book (or so I thought it was finished, but it was really just the start of my journey into editing—a story for another time) and had been told I needed to have an online presence if I was serious about becoming a published author. My daughter was still young enough to be read to and I was reading her classic fairy tales, which I found intriguing and disturbing.
It's been ten years since I started this blog and I’m still writing about fairy tales. I’m just shy of 250 followers, which I know doesn’t sound like a lot, but to me is amazing. I’ve written four books and published three (more details on book four soon). These numbers all seem small at a time when only people who have hundreds of thousands of followers and churn out books every six months, but I’m really proud of my accomplishments.
So, readers, Happy Blogoversary! Thanks for reading and keeping up with my corner of the world.
Do you have any writing anniversaries you’re celebrating?
Finding A Name
One of my favorite fairy tales is Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and its subsequent Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There. When I was a girl, I read the book and watched almost every version on TV and in the movies. I didn’t realize it then, but Alice’s escapades began my own quest to find stories of female adventure. Considering they were written in 1865 and 1871, respectively, I’d consider them some of the earliest forms of feminist fairy tales.
One of my favorite fairy tales is Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and its subsequent Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There. When I was a girl, I read the book and watched almost every version on TV and in the movies. I didn’t realize it then, but Alice’s escapades began my own quest to find stories of female adventure. Considering they were written in 1865 and 1871, respectively, I’d consider them some of the earliest forms of feminist fairy tales.
Then again, there is her red-caped sister in adventuring, Red Riding Hood. My feelings about Red have run the gamut. Sometimes I think of her as a neglected child—who sends their little girl into a wolf-infested forest to bring food to an elderly woman? Maybe it’s the Latina in me, but shouldn’t Abuela have moved in with the family already? Other times I think of Red as a hapless girl talking to strangers and too ignorant to recognize that her granny has been replaced by a furry predator.
But in my quiet moments I wonder if she isn’t a bit of a rebel. She’s sent to the woods and wanders from the path. She converses with a dangerous stranger. And when confronted with an obvious fake grandmother, it almost seems like she’s flirting with her ridiculous questions. If Little Red Riding Hood had been written today, she’d be a badass! Maybe being eaten was a calculated risk in order to find her grandmother. I’d read that story.
My point is, we (myself included) spend a lot of time talking about fairy tales that feature women and girls who seem to lack agency, but there are plenty of interesting fairy tale characters who also fueled my love of women adventurers. It was what gave my blog its name.
The List
Romantic comedies (and any romance genre for that matter) are our modern-day equivalent of fairy tales. At least the “girl-finds-a-prince or the boy-is-given-a-princess-type” fairy tale. It has a discernable formula—two people meet, they fall in love, an obstacle separates them (and according to Hallmark movies, that’s at the hour and thirty mark), and then all hurts are mended to a happily ever after conclusion—and often used devices. One of the most used is the List.
Romantic comedies (and any romance genre for that matter) are our modern-day equivalent of fairy tales. At least the “girl-finds-a-prince or the boy-is-given-a-princess-type” fairy tale. It has a discernable formula—two people meet, they fall in love, an obstacle separates them (and according to Hallmark movies, that’s at the hour and thirty mark), and then all hurts are mended to a happily ever after conclusion—and often used devices. One of the most used is the List.
You know what I’m talking about.
My first conscious awareness of it was as a kid watching When Harry Met Sally
One character, typically the guy, but I’ve seen some good lady lists too, enumerates all the reasons they can’t picture life without the other one. The one with the list always seems angry and frustrated to have to relate the list. The profess-ee stands, usually with tear-brightened eyes, in bewilderment. I’ve seen this done well and…not so well. Even so, I think it’s something that is glaringly absent from more traditional fairy tales.
Prince to Cinderella
“I think it’s adorable that cleaning products make you twitchy and you insist on going around barefoot.”
Prince Charming to Snow White
“No one eats apple pie quite like you.”
Prince to Rapunzel
“I love how grounded you are even though you live in a tower.”
If you’re thinking those aren’t really lists, you’re right. I think it’s what keeps the romance out of fairy tales. Relationships are transactional and haphazard. It's like marrying the firefighter who rescued you from a burning building when thanks (albeit profound) and maybe baked goods would do the trick. I suspect if either party were pressed for specifics about why they were together, the reasons would be unsatisfying.
Why do I bring this up? I suppose the breezy offerings at this time of year for books, movies, television and even music. Some tropes are admittedly overused, but some are as welcome as a cool breeze on a summer day. And it led me to wonder, where do fairy tales fit in? My conclusion: they don’t—at least not in a way that makes me want to use them as a romantic ideal.
Running Through the Forest with Disney
As anyone who likes fairy tales knows, it is impossible to ignore the outsized influence of Disney. Many of the stories we think of as universal are really our collective watching of movies made by The Mouse. I personally have no problem with this because I love a good fairy tale re-telling (although I admit some are not that good) and my favorite is Robin Hood.
As anyone who likes fairy tales knows, it is impossible to ignore the outsized influence of Disney. Many of the stories we think of as universal are really our collective watching of movies made by The Mouse. I personally have no problem with this because I love a good fairy tale re-telling (although I admit some are not that good) and my favorite is Robin Hood.
I know what you’re thinking. Robin Hood is not a fairy tale. Well, you’re right. It’s a legend, which I like to think of as an older fairy tale. There is no magic, but the Disney version created whimsy by making all the characters animals. I think it’s an inspired touch that they made Robin a fox because of their popularity in fairy tales and fables as clever. My idea of an ideal guerilla army would have a fox at its head (not a mixed metaphor!), but that’s another post.
It was my first animated crush and my first love story. Robin Hood was dashing, brave and pined for Maid Marian, who he’d known since childhood. I didn’t care that the accents were all over the place (why was Allen-a-Dale a Texan, Friar Tuck and Little John from the Midwest, various characters from the American South and only Robin, Marian, Prince John, and Hiss from England?) or that the music was decidedly 70s folk. I just loved the pageantry, the adventure and the love story. And of course Lady Kluck, who was my secret hero and gave me hope that woman (even a chicken) can fight their own battles in a story.
I also attribute Disney’s Robin Hood for starting my interest in history, Anglophilia, and stories in general. All my favorite things came together in one animated package. I’m not even ashamed to admit that on nights I can’t sleep I often quote the entire movie and play it in my head from beginning to end! I saw other live action versions, but none compared to that first experience.
I’m not entirely sure why I wrote this post other than to say that when the world seems crazy and truly horrible things are happening, it’s hard to imagine that something as trivial as fairy tales are important. Stories matter. Taking walks through the forest, real or metaphorical, can lead to the unexpected—escapism or maybe a calling.
Did a story ever steer you toward something? A life choice? A career? A life-long love affair?
Liminal Lands
Are you a collector? I collect words. Hear me out. When I was little, I collected stickers and interesting rocks. When I got older I started collecting glass bottles. I’ve always collected journals and pens, but as any collector knows, collections need space. There comes a point when you must tell yourself the collection is finished. Not so with words!
Are you a collector? I collect words. Hear me out. When I was little, I collected stickers and interesting rocks. When I got older I started collecting glass bottles. I’ve always collected journals and pens, but as any collector knows, collections need space. There comes a point when you must tell yourself the collection is finished. Not so with words!
Words evoke and illustrate. In the right hands (or mouth) they can create whole words or destroy them. There’s power in words and potency in the right words. The same is true of a story, itself an intricate working of words.
So, when I found myself at a loss for the right words to complete this post, I decided to incorporate my love of stories and interesting words. Part of the joy of collections is occasionally trotting them out and remembering why you like them. Here's one of my favorites:
LIMINAL: adj. of, relating to, or situated at a sensory threshold
I can’t think of a more appropriate word to revisit for a blog based on fairy tales. It is said that fairies occupy the space between ours and the hereafter—the Liminal Lands. How else can fairies attain immortality?
The best example I have of the liminal is Rip Van Winkle who, in some versions of the story, falls asleep after drinking with mysterious men thought to be fairies and wakes 20 years later with a longer beard but otherwise unchanged. He slept in the liminal space and somehow went unnoticed.
Do you have any favorite liminal spaces?
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