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…”

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.

Photo by Lucas Pezeta on Pexels.com

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?

Do Names Matter?

When I start a story, I begin with the conflict. I ask a question and then I try and find characters and settings that help answer it. It’s a very research paper way to write fiction, I just realized, but it works for me. Some people start with a character or even a name. I, on the other hand, start with the story and then have a dedicated name day.

It’s a day when I break out my big book of baby names and flip through looking for monikers that will have deep meaning or sound melodic to the ear. But that always comes later. I want to know more about the characters before I saddle them with names. It’s the same with place names.

Fairy tales don’t have this problem. How many Jacks have a story? Little Red Riding Hood must have been a placeholder that was never fixed. Does anyone know Sleeping Beauty’s name? And yet Cocklestrutshell and Frosty Ash don’t have quite the appeal of Rumpelstiltskin and Snow White.

I remember complaining to a friend that speculative fiction writers have this unspoken contest to outdo each other with names to the point that trying to pronounce them takes away from the experience. I, for example, try to use as many Latino names as possible (because I rarely found them in my books growing up and even now), but I also think about the English speaker and pronunciation. Ana works for most tongues, but Asunción de Maria, can be a mouthful.

So, when do names matter? Do they require deep meaning? Or is it like an architectural flourish that a builder adds, but the occupant of the space barely notices?

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.

I would definitely walk through a tiny door behind a curtain

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.

Image by ImaArtist from Pixabay

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.

Not all those who wander...

When I was about eight, I watched Alice in Wonderland over and over again. I loved the chatty and catty flower garden. I memorized all the Cheshire Cat's lines. I hated the ending. I didn't want Alice to back to her old life. I hoped she would learn to navigate the ins and outs of Wonderland. Later, I read Through the Looking Glass and learned that Alice became a queen--the first in my reading of fairy tales because most girls became princesses. But she still went back, discovering the whole episode was a dream.This morning, while searching my brain for a post topic, I thought about Alice and her adventures. And that led to other girls who attempt escapades and the outcomes.Firstly, they are never undertaken by choice. In the Wizard of Oz, Dorothy is conked on the head and awakens in Oz, all the time demanding to make it back home despite having wanted to run away with Toto before the tornado. Red Riding Hood was on an errand for her mother.Secondly, the girls always want to return home. Dorothy and Alice takes on unimaginable risks because they want to go home. No matter how much danger they face and overcome, they still want to get back to the worlds they knew.Lastly, and almost peripherally, they came from nice homes. These weren't the Cinderellas or the Snow Whites, who were mistreated. Maybe that's why they were in such a lather to get back home.Of course the comparison is when boys from fairy tales leave home and go on adventures. They seek fame, fortune and tend to get both and much more. They never return home and really don't want to return. Sometimes I'd watch Alice in Wonderland and wished she'd wandered a little longer.Until today, I didn't know who to attribute the "Not all those who wander are lost." I've learned it came from J.R.R. Tolkien and The Fellowship of the Ring. It got me thinking about the need to wander, if only for a change of scene. So maybe the saying could be, "Not all those who wander need return." 

Suspend belief

I spend a lot time on this blog criticizing fairy tales (as only someone who really loves them can), but there is one thing that I truly love about fairy tales--the ability for fairy tale characters to believe in the extraordinary.Cinderella just ran with it when her mother's grave started granting her wishes. The woodsman didn't question hearing voices coming from a wolf's stomach. And the miller's youngest son didn't ask Puss why he needed the boots, he just got them.Not that belief hasn't gotten fairy tale characters in trouble--The Emperor comes to mind, walking a parade route completely nude--but it rarely impedes the story. We're asked to suspend disbelief, but what of characters in modern stories.I've gotten through a lot of reading done during this strange time, and what's irked me in more than a few fantasy books are the main characters unwillingness to believe in the fantastical even in the face of so much proof. I finally figured out why (besides wanting to yank the MC out of the story and put myself in their place). No one should be so stubborn in their need for rationality and order that whimsy no longer has a place in their life. It makes me angry and sad at the same time. Why can't they suspend disbelief?And while I'm sure it would be an interest plot device to hear Cinderella's inner dialogue wondering why her mother's grave is so keen to help her win a prince at a ball instead of getting out of an abusive home, it would slow down the story. Whimsy and the fantastical open up possibilities--escapism at its best. 

Fairy Justice

Imagine if you will Rapunzel still wandering the swamp with her twins in tow and the prince elsewhere, still blind and searching for his love.Imagine the maiden in Rumpelstiltskin handing over her baby to the fairy who demanded her as payment.Imagine the Woodsman never happened by Grannie’s house and Red Riding Hood still being digested in the stomach of the wolf.Fairy tales appeal to our very basic sense of justice. They’re so popular in childhood because for a child everything is concrete. There’s a bad person and a good person. The bad person is punished and the good one is given a new start.It isn’t until we’re older that we see the gray areas. The lack of agency. The casual brutality. The inequalities. And yet, we return to these stories or some modern derivative to feel a sense of vindication.Sadly, life rarely works out so neatly. Bad people continue to behave badly without correction or condemnation. Good people are overlooked It contributes to a sense of disillusionment that only the simply ordered world of storytelling can assuage.Sometimes fairy tales are the balm we need to ease the crazy that is modern life.

Also Starring...A Secondary Fairy Tale Character

Fairy tale retellings has become its own sub-genre. We want to keep fairy tales in our lives but understand that the stories are problematic from a modern standpoint. We want agency, depth and inclusivity—a tall order for something written centuries ago. But we do our best, giving heroines backstories and pluck in the hopes of correcting anachronisms.But what about the other characters? Aren’t they just victims of the same outmoded storytelling? How many times have I read that secondary characters should be just as interesting as the protagonist?My curiosity started when I read Gregory Maguire’s Confessions of An Ugly Stepsister. They did treat Cinderella abominably, but they took their cues from their mother. And there were two of them—maybe it was a welcome change from sibling rivalry to direct any animosity at a picked on step-sister. As far as I know, it’s the only time a secondary character from a fairy tale was the star of a fairy tale retelling.What if we knew more about Jack’s mother before he climbed that beanstalk? Who wouldn’t want to know more about the dwarves that housed Snow White? And what about the mother and grandmother in Red Riding Hood?These are the rabbit holes my mind tumbles down when given free reign. Speaking of, what about that white rabbit? I like to think he orchestrated a coup against the tyrannical Queen of Hearts. My rather rambling point is retellings have only scratched the surface of possibilities.Who’s your favorite secondary character from a fairy tale? Have you read any retellings that have done that character justice?

Ending the year going Into the Woods

I’ve never been one for the obvious. If it’s too easy, it’s boring. If everyone is doing it, something must be wrong. So there’s no reason I should like Into the Woods. It’s so blatantly a metaphor for a life lesson. You go through the woods naïve and afraid of the unknown only to emerge smarter and warier of the road ahead. Red Riding Hood learns about the dangers of straying from the path. Cinderella finds her voice. The baker realizes he’s not alone. Jack loses a friend but gains independence. Even writing these lines I want to yell “DUH” at the screen.But I love it. I love the music. I adore the Witch. The message is clever even while being obvious. When I saw the production as a kid I thought it was so cool that someone decided to mash all these fairy tales together. Now as an adult I’ve gained new insight into the lyrics. It’s an honest to goodness family movie mostly because you can watch it all your life and get something new each time. This time I learned about reluctance.We’re days away from the New Year and that means the dreaded list of resolutions. Last year I did away with the entire idea of it with the notion that making a list is just a way to make me feel bad by April (or March) because I’ve lost interest in them. My resolutions are usually related to moving more and exercise. Despite my best efforts, I am generally a sedentary creature preferring to read and write more than move and sweat.I searched fairy tales for a good story on reluctance, but I have yet to find one. Reluctant heroes are not a problem in fairy tales. Princes chase down maidens who gratefully accept the assistance. Tailors seek adventures on the basis of having downed seven flies with one hit. Little girls with bold outerwear head to Grandma’s without a thought for the hungry wolf that lies in wait. Reluctance is not something fairy tale characters are acquainted with.Except in Into the Woods. Only kids have no fear of the woods. Adults are very aware that the unknown could hold danger or at least disappointment. They’re all reluctant to enter, but they go because it’s the only way to get what they want. Hemming and hawing are allowed, but the woods are still waiting. Just like the New Year and my resolutions. So, I’ll make my resolutions yet again and work to get past May with them (at least).No more hemming and hawing…the woods await.

Happy 2015!

The Hidden Minority

I have to say that I am encouraged by the current push of contemporary fairy tales. They give women a voice and often make them front and center as heroes in their own stories. The LGBT community finally has a glimmer of hope in seeing protagonists that have the same thoughts and feelings as they do. Latinos, African-Americans, Asians, and myriad cultures are being discovered within the pages of novels which before had almost ignored their existence. I don't think we've reached the goal of true diversity in stories, but I can see light at the end of the tunnel.Except for one slice of the underrepresented pie...Now, I'm willing to be proven wrong on this front, but I think stories have failed to acknowledge a particular segment of society. It's one that exists across all borders, within every culture and comes from every socio-economic background. I speak, of course, of the Plus-Sized protagonist. In an age where we worry that the population is overweight and health issues like diabetes, high cholesterol and heart disease are of serious concern, I understand why we are reluctant to glorify a state which could bring about all of these things. Then again, we glorify the bad boy who after years of being a dick can find his heart because of the love of a nice girl.Here's the deal. I don't hate skinny girls. I will admit to the occasional bouts of "big girl rage" when I skip dessert but want to chow down on some cake. But I can't be angry at someone who can eat anything they want while I have to exercise in order to stay in my favorite jeans. Everyone has something! I just don't understand why every heroine (and hero for that matter) has to be willowy thin with athletic abilities. How is it that the bookishly smart hero, who spends all his time in the library also manages to have a perfect BMI? Is the chubby sister any less deserving of a prince than her wasp-waisted sibling?I suppose I can imagine anyone as Sleeping Beauty or the miller's daughter in Rumpelstiltskin. That's the power of an immersive story. But then I see the story come to life on screen. Yes, I'm one of those annoying people who whispers "The book was so much better", but we live in a visual age. Even if I don't want to see the movie version of The Great Gatsby, I can't help but think of Leonardo DiCaprio whenever I read F. Scott Fitzgerald's book. So unless I want to live under a rock, the actors cast as my favorite characters tend to stick in my imagination. Would it be so wrong to hope for The Zaftig Mermaid (something to keep her warm in the big ocean) or a pleasantly plump set of sisters in Frozen (for the cold winter nights)? Red Riding Hood and Cinderella were work horse, traipsing through the woods with heavy packages and cleaning house for an exacting step-mother, respectively, so I understand their thinness. Couldn't Belle have been just as...belle...if her voracious reading came with a chocolate and croissant habit? Rapunzel was looked up in a tower, for goodness sakes, and you're telling me she couldn't have been cute if she were full-figured? Yes, I'm fixating on Disney, but it has given us the most popular versions of these heroines.This doesn't only have to apply to fairy tales. I would love to hear about a popular YA series featuring a sassy and shapely girl or a handsome yet husky guy. They would have to be just as capable as their lean counterparts and most importantly not apologize for their size. Just a thought.

The Tale of Red Riding Hood...Part III

The Tale of Red Riding Hood Part IThe Tale of Red Riding Hood Part IIWhen last we left our heroine, she was running from a pack of vengeful wolves in the company of her mysterious travel companion, Rummy...

On Red Riding Hood ran, feeling the same panic she felt as a little girl facing down a wolf in her grandmother’s gown. There was no woodsman to save her now, but the thought jolted her memory. Still running, she fumbled with her cape feeling the familiar heaviness of the ax. Her concentration was so focused on freeing the weapon from the billowing fabric, that she didn’t notice the exposed root of an oak in front of her. She landed with a crash, but quickly grabbed up the ax.

The wolves were now in a tight circle around her, snapping and salivating. Rummy was close behind, still laughing at the foolish girl on the ground.

“This is the family of the two wolves you killed. The fairies promised to make me one of them if I could help a creature who is reviled. Nothing is more hated than a wolf lurking in the woods. Now they shall have their revenge and I’ll have my reward.”

Red had little time to think about his words for before long she was beset by teeth and claws. Her ax was her only defense, which she used in short, hacking strokes. The wolves had not expected Red to be armed, but their blood lust and need for revenge fueled their attacks. Two of them continued to lunge even after sustaining terrible wounds and another three tried plunging under the arc of the ax.

Her arm began to feel heavy, but Red continued in fear for her life. The attacks were becoming clumsy on both sides. The two fiercest wolves were beginning to succumb to their injuries and the other three were losing the rhythm of her hacks. Soon all of them were in a heap of fur and blood and Red, bloodied and bruised herself, was the victor. An enraged Rummy stomped his feet and railed against the silence.

“I did as you asked. It’s not my fault they weren’t able to revenge themselves!” he yelled at the heavens. Red raised her ax keeping a safe distance from herself and the man shrieking in front of her. Through the trees a voice whispered on the wind.

“Helping those in need is not hurting others. This is your third such offense. You may not join us and what’s more you will become a figure of ridicule until you can find a soul to love you,” said the voice and Rummy was transformed into small wizened man with scant hair and a pointy face. He looked like an angry man child stomping his feet and then running away from the forest.

“To you Red of the Riding Hood, we give our good wishes. If there is anything you want, please name it.”

Red thought long and hard about her wish and was inspired by the events of the day. The fairies honored her request and sent her back to her cottage in the woods from which an ax shaped sign swung reading, “Red of the Riding Hood, Forest Escort”.

As for Rummy, he found another who needed his help. A miller’s daughter with a room full of straw…

 THE END?

The Tale of Red Riding Hood...Part II

When we last saw our heroine, she was leaving a tavern in search of an adventure and being followed by a mysterious man with a nefarious reputation.Red continued down the path through the middle of town. The sun wasn't warm enough to take off her namesake cloak. The chill in the air didn't seem to bother all the townsfolk walking about and stealing glances at it. But whether they were staring at her or her clothing was of little importance to Red. She was more concerned with finding a quest. What she didn't know was that adventure was coming for her.

“Are you lost little girl?” asked the man as he approached.

“I am neither little or lost, sir,” she replied making a point not to look the man in the eye. Her hand instinctively went under her cloak to assure herself the ax the woodsman had given her was still accessible. The reflex was not lost on the man and it gave him an idea.

“Ah, an adventurer. I knew from the look of you that you were no ordinary girl…young woman,” said the man warming to his theme. “I think I may be able to help you.”

“I do not need help,” she replied, but she stopped nonetheless. Something in his voice was compelling. Then again she remembered the flattering wolf who led her astray. “Who are you?”

“I am a traveler, like yourself. I was going to the capitol, but I’ve been told there is a fearsome band of outlaws living on the roadway and walking it alone has become treacherous. I had hoped to get a group of people to walk with me. Outlaws are less likely to attack a group. Sadly, none will make the journey with me for they are frightened. Perhaps the party that came with you would allow me to join them?”

“I came alone for I can take care of myself. Wolves are all the same whether on two feet or four,” she replied with a smirk. The man stifled a chuckle at her arrogance.

“Perhaps we two can share the journey together. I can see you are quite capable and it would set my mind at ease to have someone such as you as a companion. My name is Rummy,” he said with an odd smile.

“I am Red and I would happily accompany you on your journey,” she replied feeling the adventure about to being.

What could another trip through the woods hurt? She thought. They decided it would be best to waiting until first light before heading out on their trip. That night, while Red was sleeping in her bed dreaming of heroic acts, her traveling companion was making his way into the woods to make ready for their departure. A low growl carried on the wind.

The next morning, bright and early, Red and Rummy set off for the capital. Rummy said little and Red preferred it that way. They walked in silence through the green wood looking for signs of the band of thieves. On and on they trudged until they reached a section of the woods that was dark despite the midday sun.

“I believe we should stop here and have our lunch. We are nearly half-way to the capital by now,” said Rummy in a loud voice. It felt out of place in the dark of the woods and startled Red.

“It’s best to press on and save our hunger for the capital. Stopping in the woods is never a good idea,” she replied remembering smooth words from a mouth that had eaten her.

“No, no. I cannot take another step without a little rest. We have not seen or heard anyone for hours. Perhaps the outlaws have moved on to a better location,” said Rummy, sitting down and opening his pack. Red was starting to think it would have been better to walk alone, but the sight of food melted some of her resolve. She sat down and opened her pack, as well.

Rummy chewed slowly driving Red mad with impatience. As she was about to give voice to her irritation, she heard rustling in the bushes. She stood up and looked down at a smiling Rummy with teeth she could almost remember.

A pack of wolves circled their picnic area bearing their teeth and growling. Rummy looked completely at ease and Red realized that she had been tricked. One of the wolves crouched low, coiling his muscles for a high pounce. Red ran through the trees narrowly avoiding his lunge. She could hear them running on the underbrush, snapping twigs and gaining ground. The high laugh of Rummy drifted through the trees, mingling with the howls of her pursuers...