What are the five points from Tatar’s Introduction (The Classic Fairy Tales by Maria Tatar) that we should notice. Five points from the book (The Classic Fairy Tales by Maria Tatar) Tatar’s introduction page. List page number where you find these points.

NortonCriticalEditionsMariaTatar-TheClassicFairyTales-W.W.NortonCo.
 

What are the five points from Tatar’s Introduction (The Classic Fairy Tales by Maria Tatar) that we should notice.

Five points from the book (The Classic Fairy Tales by Maria Tatar) Tatar’s introduction page. List page number where you find these points.

The
CLASSIC
FAIRY TALES

A NOHIUN CIHHCII. EDIIION

THE CLASSIC FAIRY TALES

The cultural resilience of fatty tales IS xncontestablc. Survwmg over the cen-
turies and thriving in a variety of media, (any (ales contmuc m ennch our xmag—
matiuns and shape our lives. T1115 Norton Crmcal Edition of The Clam: Fan):
Talij cxammea tht- genre, as cultural implications, and Its cntncal history. The
editor has gathered fairy tales from around the world to reveal the range and
play of (hcse stories over ume.
177: Clam Fany 171115 focusea on six different tale types: “Lnttle Red Fading
Hood,” ”Beauty and the Beast,” “Snow Whuc,” “C)nderella,” ”Bluebeard,” and
“Hansel and Gretel.” It includes mulucultural vanants of these tales, along with
sophisticated literary Iescripnngsv Each tale typc 1.» preceded by an Introduc-
tmn, 2nd annotations are provnded throughout. Also Included in this collection
of ova: (my stories 31’s [3125 by Hm Christisn Andersen and Oscar Wilde.
“Cntmsm” collects twelve essays that mterrogate different aspects of fairy
tales by explormg their sonal ongms, hmoncal t-voluuon, psychological
dynamics, and engagemcnt wnth issues of gender and nanonal Idcnnty. Bruno
Bettelheim, Robert Darnton, Sandra M. Gilbert and Susan Gubar, Karen E.
Rowe, Marina Warner, Zohar Shavit. Jack lees. Donald Haase. Maria Tatar,
Antti Aame, and Vladimir Propp provide Critical overvmws.
A Selected Bibliography is Included.
ABOUT THE SERIES: Each Norton Cnncal Edmcn Includes an authoritative
lcxt. contextual and source materials, and a wnde range of Interpretanons—
from contemporary p(‘rspcctives to the most current critical theory—as well as
a bibliography and, .n most cases, a chronology of the author’s life and work.
covax mama: m Embamd ani, by Maxfield Parnsh. Reproduced by perr
“1.55m of © Maxfield Parrish Family Tmsr/mecd by ASAP and VAGA,
NYC/Courtesy American Illustrated Gallery, NYC
155m 0-393-‘17277-1
900 >
W’WCNORTON
00
E 9 780393 972771 M ‘
NEW YORK- wNDoN
m
s

The Editor
MARIA TATAR is the author of The Hard Facts of the
Crimms’ Fairy Tales, Off with Their Heads! Fairy Tales
and the Culture of Childhood, and Lustmord: Sexual Vi-
olence in Weimar Germany. She holds the Iohn L. Loeb
chair for Germanic Languages and Literatures at Har-
vard University, where she teaches courses on German
cultural studies, folklore, and Children’s literature.

W. W. NORTON & COMPANY, INC‘
Also Publishes
THE NORTON ANTHOLOGY OF AFRICAN AMERICAN LITERATURE
edited by Henry Louis Gates Ir. and Nellie Y. McKay et al.
THE NORTON ANFHOLOGY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE
edited by Nina Baym et al,
THE NORTON Amaomcv OF CONTEMPORARY Flcnow
edited by R V. CassiII and once Caml Oates
THE NORTON ANTHOLOGY or ENGLISH LITERATURE
edited by M‘ H. Abrams and Stephen Greenblatt et al,
THE NORTON ANTHOLOGY OF LITERATURE BY WOMEN
edited by Sandra M‘ Gilbert and Susan Gubar
THE NORTON ANTHOLOGY 0F MODERN Foamy
edited by Richard Ellmann and Robert O’Clair
THE NORTON ANTHOLOGY or POETRY
edited by Margaret Ferguson el al.
THE NORTON ANTHOLocY 0P SHORT FICTION
edited by R V‘ Cassill and Richard Eamb
THE NORTON ANTHOLocY or WORLD MASTERPIECES
edited by Sarah Lawall et al.
THE NORTON FACSIMILE OF THE FIRST FOLIO 0F SHAlmSPEARE
prepared by Charlton Hinman
THE NORTON INTRODUCTION TO LITERATURE
edited by lemme Beaty and I, Paul Hunter
THE NORTON INTRODUCTION TO THE SHORT Nova].
edited by lemme Beaty
THE NORTON READER
edited by Linda H. Petevson, Iohn C. eretmz, and loan E. Hammm
THE NORTON SAMPLER
edited by Thomas Cooley
THE NORTON SHAKESPEARE, BASED ON THE OXFORD EDITION
edited by Slebhen Greenblatt 2! a1.
For a complete list of Norton Critical Editions, visit us
on the World Wide Web at
www.wwnortonLom/college/eng}ish/nce/welcome‘hhn

A NORTON CRITICAL EDITION
THE
CLASSIC FAIRY TALES
£2
TEXTS
CRITICISM
Edited by
MARIA TATAR
HARVARD UNIVERSITY
E

‘ W – NORTON & COMPANY – New York ‘ London

For Lauren and Daniel
Copyright 0 1999 by W. W. Norton 6: Company, Inc.
All right; xmrved.
Printed in the United Sum of America,
First Edilion.
The hex! of this book is composed in Electra with the display set in Bernhard
Modem. Composition by PcnnScL Inc. Book design by Antonina me
Cover illustration: The Enchanted Prim, reproduced by permission of 0 szfield
Parrish Family Trust/Liccnsed by ASAP and VACA NYC/Cmmesy American
Illustrated Gallery. NYC.
Library of Congress Cahloging—in—Publicafion Data
The classic fairy Ialcs : texts, crificisrn / odikcd by Malia Tam.
p. cm. — (Norton critical edifion)
Includa bibliognphical referencu.
ISBN 0-393-97277-1 (pbln)
L Fairy tales—Hismly and criticism I. Tam, Maria M,, 1945—
GR550.CS7 1998
385.2—dc21 9311552
W. W. Norton 6: Omnpany, Inc,. 500 Fifth Avenue. New York. NY. IO] IO
www.wwnoflon.cmn
W‘ W‘ Nonun 61 Company Lint, Castle House, 75/76 Wells Street,
London WIT 3QT
67890

Contents

Introduction
The Texts of The Classic Fairy Tales
INTRODUCTION: Little Red Riding Hood
The Story of Grandmother
Char1es Penault . Little Red Riding Hood
Biothers Grimm ‘ Litfle Red Cap
James Thurber – The Little Girl and the Wolf
halo Calvino ‘ The False Grandmother
Chiang Mi ‘ Coldflower and the Bear
Roald Dahl – Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf
Roald Dahl . The Three Little Pigs
XNTRODUCTION: Beauty and the Beast
Jeanne-Marie Leptince de Beaumont ‘ Beauty and the
Beast
Giovanni Francesco Shaparola ‘ The Pig King
Brothers Grimm ‘ The Frog King, or Iron Heinrich
Angela Carter ‘ The Tiger’s Bride
Urashima the Fisherman
Alexander Afanasev ‘ The Frog Princess
The Swan Maiden
INTRODUCTION: Snow White
Ciambattista Basile – The Young Slave
Brothers Grimm – Snow White
Lasair Cheug, the King of Ireland’s Daughter
Anne Sexton ‘ Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
xmovucnoN: Cinderella
Yeh-hsien
Charles Perrault – Donkeyskin
Brothers Grimm – Cinderella
Joseph Iaeohs ‘ Calskin
The Story of the Black Cow
ix
10
11
13
16
17
19
21
22
25
32
42
47
50
66
68
72
74
80
83
90
96
101
107
109
117
122
125

vi CONTENTS
Lin Lan – Cinderella
The Princess in the Sui! of Leather
INTRODUCTION: Bluebeard
Charles Perrault ‘ Bluebeard
Brothers Grimm ‘ Fitcher’s Bitd
Brothers Grimm ‘ The Robber Bridegroom
)oseph Iacobs . Mr. Fox
Margaret Atwood ‘ Bluebeard‘s Egg
INTRODUCTION: Hansel and Gretel
Brothers Grimm ‘ Hansel and Gretel
Brolhers Grimm – The )unipet Tree
Joseph Iacobs ‘ The Rose-Tree
Charles Penault . Little Thumhling
Pippety Pew
1oseph Jacobs – Molly Whuppie
INTRODUCTION: Hans Christian Andersen
The Little Metmaid
The Little Match Girl
The Gir1 Who Trad on the Loaf
The Red Shoes
INTRODUCTION: Oscar Wilde
The Selfish Gian!
The Happy Prince
The Nightingale and the Rose
Criticism
ano Bettelheim ‘ [The Struggle for Meaning]
Bruno Bette1heim ‘ “Hanse1 and Gretel”
Robert Damion ‘ Peasants Tell Tales: The Meaning of
Mother Goose
Sandra M. Gilbert and Susan Cuhar – [Snow White and
Her Wicked Stepmother]
Karen E. Rowe ° To Spin 2 Yam: The Female Voice in
Folklore and Fairy Tale
Marina Warnet – The Old Wives’ Tale
Zohar Shavit – The Concept of Childhood and
Chi1dren’s Folktales: Test Case—
“Litde Red Riding Hood”
Jack Zipes ‘ Bleaking the Disney Spell
127
131
138
144
148
151
154
156
1 79
1 84
190
197
199
206
209
212
216
233
235
241
246
250
253
261
267
269
273
280
291
297
309
317
332

Comm
Donald Haase ° Yours, Mine, or Ours? Penault,
the Bmthets Grimm, and the Ownership of
Fairy Tales
Maria Tatar – Sex and Violence: The Hard Core of
Fairy Tales
Antti Aame and Stith Thompson ° From The Types of
the Folktale: A Classification and Bibliography
Vladimir Propp ‘ Folklore and Literature
0 From Morphology of the Folktale
The Method and Material
– Thirty—One Functions
° Pmpp’s Dramatis Personae
Selected Bibliography
vii
353
364
373
378
382
382
386
387
389

Introduction

Fairy tales, Angela Carter tells us, are not “unique one-offs,” and their
narrators are neither “original” nor “godlike” nor ”inspired.” To the con-
trary, these stories circulate in multiple versions, reconfigured by each tell-
ing to form kaleidoscopic variations with distinctly different effects. When
we say the word “Cinderella,” we are referring not to a single text but to
an entire array of stories with a persecuted heroine who may respond to
her situation with defiance, cunning, ingenuity, selfipity, anguish, or gtief.
She will be called Yeh—hsien in China, Cendrillon in Italy, Aschenputtel
in Cennany, and Catskin in England Her sisters may be named One-Eye
and Three—Eyes, Anastasia and Drizella, or she may have just one sister
named Haloek. Her tasks range from tending cows to sorting peas to fetch—
ing embers for a fire.
Although many variant forms of a tale can now be found between the
covers of books and ate attributed to individual authors, editms, or com-
pilers, they derive largely from collective efforts. In reflecting on the origins
of fairy tales, Carter asks us to consider: “Who first invented meatballs? In
what Country? Is there a definitive recipe for potato soup? Think in terms
of the domestic arts. ‘This is how I make potato soup.‘ “‘ The story of Little
Red Riding Hood, for example, can be discovered the world over, yet it
varies radically in texture and flavor from one culture to the next. Even in
a single culture, that texture or flavor may be different enough that a lis-
tenet will impatiently interrupt the telling of a tale to insist “That’s not the
way I heard it.” In France, Little Red Riding Hood and her grandmother
are devoured by the wolf. The Crimms’ Version, by contrast, stages a rescue
scene in which a hunter intervenes to liberate Red Riding Hood and her
grandmother from the belly of the wolf. Caterinella, an Italian Red Riding
Hood, is invited to dine on the teeth and ears of her grandmother by a
masquerading wolf. A Chinese “C01dflowex” manages to slay the beast who
wants to devour her by throwing a spear into his mouth. Local color often
affects the premises of a tale. In Italy, the challenge facing one heroine is
not spinning straw into gold but downing seven plates of lasagna.
Virtually every element of a tale, from the name of the hero or heroine
through the nature of the beloved t0 the depiction of the villain, seems
subject to change. In the British Isles, Cinderella goes by the name of
Catskin, Mossycoat, or Rashin-Coatie. The mother of one Italian “Beauty”
pleads with her daughter to marry a pig, while another mother runs inter—
ference for a snake. In Russia, the cannibalistic witch in the fotest has a
hut set on chicken legs surrounded by a fence with posts made of stacked
1 Angela Cartel, ed», The szgo Back of Fairy Talex (London: Vuago Press, 1990) x,
ix

x INTRODUCTION
human skulls. Rumpelstiltskin is also known as Titeliture, Ricdin-Ricdon,
Tom Tit Tot, Batzibitzili, Panzimanzi, and Whuppity Stoorie.
While there is no “original” version of “Cinderella” or “Sleeping
Beauty,” there is a basic plot structure (what folklorists refer to as a “tale
type”) that appears despite rich cultural variation, “Beauty and the Beast,”
for example, according to the tale-type index compiled by the Finnish
folklorist Antti Aame and refined by the American folklorist Stith Thomp-
son, has the following episodic structure:
I. The monster as husband
II. Disenchantment of the monster
III. Loss of the husband
N, Search for the husband
V, Recovery of the husband
While the monster as husband is a structural constant, the monster itself
may (and does) take the form of virtually any beast—a goat, a mouse, a
hedgehog, a crocodile, or a lion. The search for the husband may require
the heroine to cover vast tracts of land in iron shoes, to sort out peas from
lentils in an impossibly short time, or simply to wish herself back to the
monster’s castler Despite certain limitations, the tale»ty’pe index is a con»
venient tool for defining the stable core of a story and for identifying those
features subject to local variation.
Telling fairy tales has been considered a “domestic art” at least since
Plato in the Corgias referred to the “old wives’ tales” told by nurses to
amuse and to frighten children. Although virtually all of the national col-
lections of fairy tales compiled in the nineteenth century were the work of
men, the tales themselves were ascribed to women narrators. As early as
the second century A.D., Apuleius, the North African author of The Golden
Ass, had designated his story of “Cupid and Psyche” (told by a drunken
and half-dernented old woman) as belonging to the genre of “old wives‘
Lalesi” The Venetian Giovanni Francesco Straparola claimed to have heard
the stories that constituted his Facetious Nights of 1550 “from the lips of
. . . lady storytellers” and he embedded those stories in a narrative frame
featuring a circle of ganulous female narrators} Ciambattista Basile‘s sev»
enteenthcentury collection of Neapolitan tales, Th2 Pentameronz, also has
women storytellersAquick-witted, gossipy old cranes who recount “these
tales that old women tell to amuse children,” The renowned Tales of
Mother Goose by Charles Penault were designated by their author as old
wives’ tales, “told by governesses and grandmothers to little children.N And
many of the most expansive storytellers consulted by the Grimms were
women—family friends or servants who had at their disposal a rich reper-
toire of folklore
The association of fairy tales with the domestic arts and with old wives’
tales has not done much to enhance the status of these cultural stories.
2, Marina Warner, mm the Beast to 11-2 Blamie: 0.. Fairy Tales and Their Mm (New York:
Famr, Stuns and Girnux, 1994) 36.
31 The Pentamemne, um. Benedetto Cmce, ed. N, M. Penzer (John Lane: The Bodley Head.
1932) 9.
4 Chane; Penault, “Preface,” Cnntes en ms (1694; reprint, Paris: (2311mm, 1981) so,

INTRODUCTION xi
”On a par with trifles,” Marina Warner stresses, “ ‘mete old wives’ tales‘
carry connotations of error, of false counsel, ignorance, prejudice and fa]-
laciuus nostrums~against heartbreak as well as headache; similarly ‘fairy
tale,’ as a derogatory term, implies fantasy, escapism, invention, the unre-
liable consolations of romance”
Although fairy tales are still arguably the most powerfully formative tales
of childhood and permeate mass media for children and adults, it is not
unusual to find them deemed of marginal cultural importance and dis-
missed as unworthy of critical attention, Yet the staying power of these
stories, their widespread and enduring popularity, suggests that they must
be addressing issues that have a significant social function—whether criti-
cal, conservative, compensatory, or thetapeutic. In a study ofrnass‘pmduced
fantasies for women, Tania Modleski points out that genres such as the
soap opera, the Gothic novel, and the Harlequin romance “speak to very
teal problems and tensions in women’s lives. The nanative strategies which
have evolved for smoothing over these tensions can tell us much about
how women have managed not only to live in opptessive circumstances
but to invest their situations with some degree of dignity.”” Fairy tales reg—
ister an effort on the part of both women and men to develop maps for
coping with personal anxieties, family conflicts, social frictions, and the
myriad frustrations of everyday life.
Trivializing fairy tales leads to the mistaken conclusion that we should
suspend our critical faculties while reading these “harmless” narratives.
While it may be disturbing to hear voices disavowing the hansformative
influence of fairy tales and proclaiming them to be culturally insignificant,
it is just as troubling to find fairy tales turned into inviolable cultural iconsi
The Grimms steadfastly insisted on the sacred quality of the fairy tales they
collected Their Nursery and Huusehold Tales, they asserted, made an effcn
to capture the pure, artless simplicity of a people not yet tainted by the
corrupting influences of civilization “These stories are suffused with the
same purity that makes children appear so marvelous and blessed,” Wii-
heim Crimm declared in his preface to the collection. Yet both brothers
must also have recognized that fairy tales were far from culturally innocent,
for they extolled the ”civilizing” power of the tales and conceived of their
collection as a “manual of manners” for children.7
The myth of fairy tales as a kind of holy scripture was enetgetically
propagated by Charles Dickens, who brought to the literature of childhood
the same devout reverence he accorded children Like the Grimms, Dick-
ens hailed the “simplicity,” “purity,” and “innocent extravagance” of fairy
tales, yet also praised the tales as powerful instruments of constructive so«
cialization: “It would be hard to estimate the amount of gentleness and
mercy that has made its way among us through these slight channels. Fore-
bearance, Courtesy, consideration for the poor and aged, kind treatment of
s. Wamev, Bean 1?. (Excerpted below, 1). 109.)
6, Tania Modleski, Loving with a Vengeance: MassVProduced Fanlmie: for Women (Hamden,
Conn: Archon Books, 1932) 15.
7, From Jacob and Wilhelm Glimms’ “Preface,” Nursery and Hamehotd Tales, In «L, 2d ed.,
trans. Mm: Tam, in Mm: TM, The Hand Fact: oflhe Gn’mnu‘ Fm Tale: (Princeton:
Princeton UP, 1973) 206, 207.

xii INTRODUCTION
animals, the love of nature, abhorrence of tyranny and brute force—many
such good things have been first nourished in the child’s heart by this
powerful aid.”B
Even in 1944, when Allied troops were locked in combat with German
soldiers, W, H. Auden decreed the Cximms’ fairy tales to be “among the
few indispensable, commonproperty books upon which Western culture
can he founded.” “It is hardly too much to say,” he added, “that these tales
rank next to the Bible in importance.”” Like the devaluation of fairy tales,
the overvaluation of fairy tales promotes a suspension of critical faculties
and prevents us from taking a good, hard look at stories that are so obviously
instrumental in shaping our values, moral codes, and aspirations. The rev-
erence brought by some readers to fairy tales mystifies these stories, making
them appear to be a source of transcendent spiritual truth and authotity.
Such a mystification promotes a hands—off attitude and conceals the fact
that fairy tales, like “high art,” are squarely implicated in the complex, yet
not impenetrable, symbolic codes that permeate our cultural stories.
Despite efforts to deflect critical attention from fairy tales, the stories
themselves have attmcted the attention of scholars in disciplinary comers
ranging from psychology and anthmpology through religion and history to
cultural studies and literary theory. Every culture has 15 myths, fairy tales,
and fables, but few cultures have mobilized as much critical energy as has
outs of late to debate the merits of these stoties. Margaret Atwood, whose
personal and literary engagement with fairy tales is no secret, has written
vividly about her childhood encounter with an unexpurgated version of
Grimms’ Fairy Tales: “Where else could I have gotten the idea,” she asserts,
“so early in life, that words can change you?” Atwood’s phrasing is mag-
nificently ambiguous, referring on one level to the transformative spells
cast on {airy—tale characters, but also implying that fairy tales can both shape
our way of experiencing the world and endow us with the power to restruc~
ture our lives. As Stephen Greenblatt has observed, ”the work of art is not
the passive surface on which . . . historical experience leaves its stamp but
one of the creative agents in the fashioning and Iefashioning of this expe-
rience.”1 As we lead fairy tales, we simultaneously evoke the cultural ex-
perience of the past and allow it to work on our consciousness even as we
reinterpret and reshape that experience.
Carolyn Heilbrun has also addressed the question of how the stories
circulating in our culture regulate our lives and fashion our identities:
Let us agtee on this: that we live our lives through texts. These may
be Iead, or chanted, or experienced electronically, or come ta us, like
the murmurings of our mothers, telling us of what conventions de-
8. Charles Dickens, “Funds on me Fairies,” in Hausehold Wurds: A Weekly Journal (New York:
McElyzth and 331k”, 1354) 97.
9. w H. Auden. “ln Piaise ofthe Brothers Grimm.” New YorkTin-es BookRmew. 12 November
1944, 1.
1. Maigaret Atwood. “Crimms’ Remembered,” m Donald Haase, ed, The 11mm” ofCrimmx’
nay Taler Rzipanm, Reactions, Rmim (Detroil: Wayne sum UP, 199;) 292.
2. Stephen C(eenblatt, “lntmduclion,” Repmennng the English Renaissance, ed, Stephen
Greenblmuaakcky: u ofCaIifolma F. 19311) viii.

INTRODUCHON xiii
mandi Whatever their form 01’ medium, these stories are what have
formed us all, they are what we must use to make our new fictionsl
. . . Out of old tales, we must make new lives.’
Heilbrun endorses the notion of appropriating, revising, and revitalizing
“old tales” in order to produce new social discourses that can, in turn,
refashion our lives.
How we go about mobilizing fairy tales to help us form new social mics
and identities is a hotly contested question. Some advocate the recupera-
tion and critique of the classic canon; othets have called for the revival of
“heretical” texts (stories repressed and suppressed from cultural memory)
and the formation of a new canon; still others champion rewriting the old
tales or inventing new ones. This volume fumishes examples of each of
these strategies, providing “classic” versions of specific tale types side by
side with less well known versions from other cultures and inspired iiterary
efforts to recast the tales. These projects for reclaiming folkloric legacies
are not unproblematic, and they have each come under fire for failing to
provide the answer to that pexennial question of what makes an idea] cul-
tural story.
For some observers, the classic canon of fairy tales is so hopelessly ret-
rograde that it is futile to try to rehabilitate it. Andrea Dworkin refuses to
countenance the possibility of preserving tales that were more or less forced
upon us and that have been so effective in promoting stereotypical gender
rules:
We have not formed that ancient world [of fairy taie5]7it has formed
us We ingested it as children whole, had its values and consciousness
imprinted on our minds as cultural absolute: long before we were in
fact men and women. We have taken the fairy tales of childhood with
us into maturity, chewed but still lying in the stomach, as real identity.
Between Snow—white and her heroic prince, our two great fictions, we
never did have much of a chance, At some point the Great Divide
took place: they (the boys) dreamed of mounting the Great Steed and
buying Snow-white from the dwarfs; we (the girls) aspired to become
that obiect of every necrophiliac’s lust—the innocent, victimized Sleep
ing Beauty, beauteous lump of ultimate, sleeping good4
Yet for every critic who is convinced that we need to sound the tocsin
and make fairy tales oFf-limits to children, there is one who celebrates the
liberating energy and revolutionary edge of fairy tales. Alison Lutie, for
example, sees the tales as reflecting a commendable level of gender equal-
ity, along with a powet asymmetry tilted in favor of older women:
These stories suggest a society in which women are as competent and
active as men, at every age and in every class. Gretel, not Hansel,
defeats the Witch; and for every clever youngest son there is a youngest
daughter equally resourceful. The contrast is g(eatest in maturity,
3. Carolyn Heilhmn, “What Was Penelope Unweaving?” in Hamlet‘s Mothev and Other Womzn
(New York: Columbia UP, 1990) 109
4. Andrea Dworkm, WomunrHating (New York: Button, 1974) 32733.

xiv INTRODUCTION
where women are often more powerful than men. Real help for the
hero or heroine comes most frequently from a fairy godmother or wise
woman, and real flouble from a witch or wicked stepmother. i . i To
ptepare Children for women’s liberation, therefore, and to protect
them against Future Shock, you had better buy at least one collecfion
of fairy tales.‘
Whom are we to believe? Andrea Dworkin, who contends that fairy tales
perpetuate gendet stereotypes, or Alison Lurie, who asserts that they un-
settle gendet roles? Do we side with those who denounce fairy Lales for
their melodrama and violence OI with the psychologist Bruno Bettelheim,
who finds them crucial to a child’s healthy mental development? Margatet
Atwood would answer by saying “It dependst” Astonished by reports that
Cfimms’ Fairy Tales was being denounced as sexist, she observed that one
finds in the volume “wicked wizards as well as wicked witches, stupid
women as well as stupid men.” “When people say ‘sexist fairy tales,’ ” she
added, “they probably mean the anthologies that concentrate on ‘The
Sleeping Beauty,’ ‘Cinderella,’ and ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ and leave out
everything else. But in ‘my’ version, there are a good many forgetful or
imprisoned princes who have to be rescued by the clever, brave, and re-
sourceful princess, who is just as willing to undergo hardship and risk her
neck as are the princes engaged in dragon slaying and tower climbing.”6
Few fairy tales dictate a single, univocal, uncontested meaning; most are
so elastic as to accommodate a wide variety of interpretations, and they
derive their meaning through a process of engaged negotiation on the part
of the reader, Just as there is no definitive version of “Little Red Riding
Hood,” there is also no definitive interpretation of heI storyt
Some versions of Little Red Riding Hood’s story or Snow White’s story
may appear to teenfmce stereotypes; others may have an emancipatory po-
tential; still others may seem radically feminist. All are of historical interest,
revealing the ways in which a story has adapted to a culture and been
shaped by its social practices. The new story may be ideologically conect
ox ideologically suspect, but it can always serve as the point of departure
for debate, critique, and dialogue In this volume, I have tried to convey a
sense of the rich cultural archive behind stones that we tend to flatten out
with the monolithic labels “Little Red Riding Hood,” “Snow White,” or
“Cinderella.”
Recovering fairy tales that have undergone a process of cultural sup-
pression or that have succumbed to cultural amnesia has been the mission
of a number of folklorists in the past decades. Instead of reshaping canon‘
icai fairy tales o! trying to reinvent them, these collectors seek to fill in the
many empty spaces on the shelves of our collective folkiotic atchive. Rose-
mary Minard’s Womenfolk and Fairy Tales explicitly seeks to identify tales
in which women are “active, intelligent, capable, and courageous human
beings.”’ While Minard succeeds in reviving some resourceful folklore her-
oines, many of the faces in her anthology ate familiar ones. A Chinese Red
Riding Hood, a Scandinavian Beauty, and a British wife of Bluebeard
5. Nimn Lurie, ”Faily Tale Liberation,” New York Review ofBookt. 17 December 1970. 42.
6. Atwood, ”Grimms’ Remembered,” 291—92.
7. Rosemary Mimyd, ed., Wommfolk and Fairy Tale: (Boston: Houghton Miflfin, 1975) vmv

INTRODUCTION xv
mingle in her anthology with the more obscure Unanana, Kate Cracker-
nuts, and Clever Marika.
Like Minard, Ethel Johnston Phelps aims to collect tales that feature
“active and courageous girls and women in the leading roles” for her volv
ume Tatterhood and Other Tales.a By contrast, Angela Carter’s Virago Book
ofFairy Tales chooses texts for their historical interest, for the way in which
they provide models of how women struggled, succeeded, and also some-
times failed in the challenges of everyday life. “I wanted to demonstrate
the extraordinary richness and diversity of responses to the same common
predicament—being alive—and the richness and diversity with which fem:
ininity, in practice, is represented in ‘unofficial‘ culture: its strategies, its
plots, its hard work.””
Our own fairy—tale repertoire can now be said to consist of two competing
traditions. On the one hand, we have the classical canon of tales collected
by, among others, Joseph Jacobs in England, Charles Perrault in France,
the Grimm brothers in Germany, and Alexander Afanasev in Russia. 011
the other hand, we have a rival tradition of heretical stories established by
folklorists who have sought to unearth buried cultural treasures and to
conduct archaeological exercises designed to connect us with a subversive
dimension of our collective past. In addition to this twin folkloric legacy,
we have the reinventions of such authors as Hans Christian Andersen and
Oscar Wilde, who, in competing with the raconteurs of old, attempted to
supplant their narratives and to provide new cultural texts on which to
model our lives.
Hans Christian Andersen and Oscar Wilde can be seen as moving in an
imitative mode, attempting to capture the style and spirit of folk raconteurs
in their literary efforts. Yet their fiiry tales, with their self—consciously artless
expressions and calculated didactic efi’ects, diverge dramatically from the
traditional tales of folk cultures. What both Andersen and Wilde seem to
have forgotten is that the folktale thrives on conflict and contrast, not an
sentiment and pathos. P. L. Travers tellingly registers her response as a
child to reading Andersen’s fairy tales: “Ah, how pleasant to be manipu-
lated, to feel one’s hearktrings pulled this way and that—twang, twang,
again and again, longing, self-pity, nostalgia, remorse—and to let fall the
fullsome tear that would never be shed for Grimm,”| Andersen wants to
erase “the pagan world with its fortitude and strong contrasts,” Still, An»
dersen’s “Little Mermaid” reveals just how easily literary fairy tales can
mutate into folklore, lending themselves to adaptation, transformation, and
critique in a variety of media and becoming part of our collective cultural
awareness.
Feminist writers have resisted the temptation to move in the imitative
mode, choosing instead the route of critique and parody in their recastings
of tales. For Anne Sexton, for example, the history and wisdom of the past
embedded in fairy tales is less important than the construction of new
cultural signposts for coping with “being alive” Anne Sexton’s Transfer-
3. Ethel Johnston Phelps, :d,, Tatterhood and owe, me: (Old Westbury, New York: Feminist
Pug, 1978) xv.
9. cm”, Virago, xiv.
1. P, L, Travers, What the 3.. Known: Rzflzctiom on Myth, Symbol and sum (Wellingborough,
Nurthamplanshire: Aquarian Press, 1939) 222.

xvi INTRODUCTION
mations begins by staking a claim to producing fairy tales, by declaring
herself to be the new source of folk wisdom and of oracular authority. She
positions herself as speaker, “my face in a book” (presumably the Grimms’
Nursery and Household Tales), with ”mouth wide, ready to tell you a story
or two.” In a self—described appropriation of the Grimms‘ legacy (“I take
the fairy tale and transform it into a poem of my own”), Sexton creates
new stories that stage her own “very wry and cruel and sadistic and funny”
psychic melodrarnas.Z As “middle-aged witch,” Sexton presents herself as
master of the black arts, of an opaque art of illusion, and also as a disruptive
force, a figure of anarchic energy who subverts conventional cultural wis»
dom. Nowhere is her Critique of romantic love, of the “happily ever after”
of fairy tales, more searingly expressed than in the final strophe of
“Cinderella”:
Cinderella and the prince
lived, they say, happily ever after,
like two dolls in a museum case
never bothered by diapers and dust,
never arguing over the timing of an egg,
never telling the same story twice,
never getting a middle-aged spread,
their darling smiles pasted on for eternity,
Regular Bohbsey Twins.
That story.
Sexton’s transformations reveal the gap between ”that story” and reality, yet
at the same time expose the specious terms of “that story,” showing how
intolerable it would be, even if true
Sexton enters into an impassioned dialogue with the Grimm brothers,
contesting their premises, interrogating their plots, and reinventing their
conclusions. Other writers, recognizing the social energy of these tales,
have followed her lead, rewriting and recasting stories told by Pertault, the
Crimms, Madame de Beaumont, and Hans Christian Andersen. The dia-
logue may not always be as emotionally charged as it is in Sexton’s poetry.
In some cases it will be so muted that many readers will be unaware of
the intertextual connection with fairy tales, Few film reviewers, for exam-
ple, recognized the allusive richness of Iane Campion’s The Piano} which
opens with a bow to Andersen‘s “Little Mermaid,” then nods repeatedly
in the direction of the Crimms’ “Robber Bridegroom” and Penault‘s
“Bluebeardt”
With her collection of stories The Bloody Chamber, Angela Carter joined
Anne Sexton in reworking the familiar script of fairy tales, in her case to
mount “a critique of current relations between the sexes.” Carter positions
herself as a “moral pornographer,” a writer seeking to “penetrate to the
heart of the contempt for women that distorts our culture.” ”Beauty and
the Beast,” “Little Red Riding Hood,” “Puss in Book,” and “Bluebeard”:
2. Diane Wood Middlebrook, Anne Sexton (Boston: Houghton Mifflin. 1991) awn.
3. The Piano, dir. lane Campion, Miramax, 1994.

INTRODUCTION xvii
all these stories have, according to Carter, a “violently sexual” side to them,
a “latent content” that becomes manifest in he! rescriptings of fairy tales
for an adult audience.‘ Carter aims above all to demystify these sacred
Cultural texts, to show that we can break their magical spells and that social
change is possible once we become aware of the stories that have guided
our social, moral, and personal development, Margaret Atwood’s novels and
short stories also enact and critique the plots of fairy tales, showing the
degree to which these stories inform our affective life, programming our
responses to romance, defining our desires, and constructing our anxieties.
Like Sally, the fictional heroine of Atwood’s “Bluebeald’s Egg,” Atwood
questions the seemingly timeless and universal truths of out cultutal stories
lay reflecting on their assumptions and exploring the ways in which they
can be subverted through rewritings.
It was Charlotte Bronte who inaugurated with full force the critique of
fairy—tale romance in fiction by women for women. The life story of the
heroine of lane Eyre (1847) can be read as a one—woman crusade and act
of resistance to the roles modeled for gills and women in fairy talesi‘ At
Cateshead, Jane Eyre finds herself positioned as domestic slave, as a Cin-
derella figure in the Reed household Employed as an “undeI-nurserymaid,
to tidy the rooms, dust the chairs” (25), she is subjected on a daily basis
to reproaches, persecuted by two unpleasant “stepsisters’v and by a “step-
mother” who has an “insuperable and rooted aversion” (23) to her, and
excluded fmm the “usual festive cheel” (Z?) of holiday parties. lane, al.
though initially selfipitying and complicit, takes a defiant stance, refusing
to be contained and framed by the cultural story that has inscribed itself
on her life. Rather than passively enduring her storybook fate (which will
keep her—as a “plain Iane”—foxever locked in the fist phase of “Cinder-
ella”), she Iebels against the social reflexes of her WOIlCl and writes herself
out of the script.
Just as lane refuses to model her behavior on Cinderella, despite the
seductive, though false, hopes of that story, so too she refrains from ac-
cepting the role of beloved in Rochester’s fairytale fantasies. No beauty,
lane is nonetheless at first enchanted by the prospect of domesticating a
man who is desclibed as ”metamorphosed into a lion” and who inhabits a
house with “a corridor from some Bluebeard’s castle,” a house that contains
the dreaded forbidden chamber familiar to readers of “Bluebeard.” lane
recognizes what is at stake for her in succumbing to a fairy—Lale concept of
romance: “Fm a moment I am beyond my own mastery. What does it
mean? I did not think I should tremble in this way when I saw him—or
lose my voice or the power of motion in his presence” (214), Jane Eyre
[ejects the cult of suffering and selfiefi‘acement endorsed in fairy tales like
“Cinderella” and “Beauty and the Beast” to construct heI own story, re»
nouncing prefabricated roles and creating her own identity. She reinvents
herself and produces a radically new cultural script, the one embodied in
4. Robin Ann Sheets, “Pornography, 1-“:in Tales, and Feminism: Angela Carter’s ’11”: Bloody
Chamber,’ ” Iournal ofthe History ofSexuatny 1 (199i): 635, 642,
5. All parenthetical citations Io lane Em refer to Charlene Bronte, Ian: Eyre, ed. Richard J.
Dunn (New York Norton, I937),

xviii INTRODUCTION
the written record that constitutes her own autobiography Making produc-
tive use of fairy tales by reacting to them, resisting them, and rewriting
them rather than passively consuming them until they are ”lying in the
smmach, as real identity,” Jane Eyre offers us a splendidly legible and
luminous map of reading for our cultural stories.

The Texts 0£
THE CLASSIC FAIRY TALES
______ML_____

4 Lmu; RED RIDING H001)
Red Riding Hood” [1143]), it is presumably more faithful to an oral
tradition predating Perrault, in part because the folklorist recording it
was not invested in producing a highly literary book of manners for
aristocratic children and worked hard to capture the exact wording of
the peasant raconteur, and in part because oral traditions are notori-
ously conservative and often preserve the flavor of narratives as they
circulated centuries ago. The “peasant girl” of the oral tradition is, as
lack Zipes points out, “forthright, brave, and shrewd.”2 She is an expert
at using her wits to escape danger. Perrault Changed all that when he
put her story between the covers of a book and eliminated vulgarities,
coarse turns of phrase, and unmotivated plot elements, Gone are the
references to bodily functions, the racy double entendres, and the gaps
in narrative logic. As Delarue points out, Perrault removed those ele-
ments that would have shocked the society of his epoch with their
cruelty (the girl’s devouring of the grandmother’s flesh and blood), their
inanity (the choice between the path of needles and the path of pins),
or their “impropriety” (the girl’s question about her grandmother’s hairy
body).I
Perrault worked hard to craft a tale that excised the ribald grotesque-
ries from the original peasant tale and rescripted the events in such a
way as to accommodate a rational discursive mode and moral economy.
That he intended to send a message about vanity, idleness, and igno-
rance becomes Clear from the “moralité” appended to the tale:
From this story one learns that children,
Especially young girls,
Pretty, wellAhred, and genteel,
Are wrong to listen to just anyone,
And it’s not at all strange,
If a wolf ends up eating them. [13]
Perrault’s Little Red Riding Hood has no idea that it is “dangerous to
stop and listen to wolves” [12]. She also makes the fatal error of having
a “good time” gathering nuts, chasing butterflies, and picking flowers
[12], And, of course, she is not as savvy as Thurber’s “little girl” who
knows that “a wolf does not look any more like your grandmother than
the Met’m-Gcldwyn lion looks like Calvin Coolidge” [l7]i
Little Red Riding Hood’s failure to fight back or to resist in any way
led the psychoanalytically oriented Bruno Bettelheim to declare that
the girl must be ”stupid or she wanm to be seduced” Perrault, in his
view, transformed a “naive, attractive young girl, who is induced to
neglect Mother’s warnings and enjoy herself in what she consciously
2. Jack 2; es, ed. The Trials and Tribulations of Little Red Riding Hood, 2d ed. (New York:
Ruutlerl’fie, 1993) 26.
3. Paul De ame, “Lg; Contes mewerlleux de Perrault et la tradition populaire,” Bulletin 10:1.
lorique d2 1112427me 0951); 26.

INTRODUCTION 5
believes to be innocent ways, into nothing but a fallen woman.” No
longer a trickster who survives through her powers of improvisation, she
has become either a dimwit or a complicit victim. Bettelheim was also
sensitive to the transformations endured by the wolf. Once a Iapacious
beast, he was tumed by Penault into a metaphor, a stand-in for male
seducers who lute young women into their beds. While it may be true
that peasant cultures figured the wolf as a savage predator, folk racon-
teurs had probably already gleefully taken advantage of the metaphor
ical possibilities of Little Red Riding Hood’s encounter with the wolf
and also exploited the full range and play of the mle’s potential for
sexual innuendo.
The Grimms’ “Little Red Cap” [13—16] erased all traces ofthe erotic
playfulness found in “The Story of Grandmother” and placed the ac-
tion in the service of teaching lessons to the child inside and outside
the story. Like many fairy tales, the Crimms’ narrative begins by framing
a prohibition, but it has difficulty moving out of that mode. Little Red
Cap’s mother hands her daughtet cakes and wine for grandmother and
proceeds to instmct her in the art of good behavior: “When you’re out
in the woods, walk properly and don’t stray from the path. Otherwise
you‘ll fall and break the glass, and then there’ll be nothing for Grand-
mother. And when you enter her room, don’t forget to say good morn-
ing, and don’t go peeping in all the comers of the mom” [14]. The
Grimms’ effort to encode lessons in ”Little Red Cap” could hardly be
called successful. The lecture on manners embedded in the narrative
is not only alien to the spirit of fairy tales—which are so plot driven
that they rarely traffic in the kind of pedagogical precision on display
hereibut also misfires in its lack oflogic. The bottle never breaks even
though Red Cap sttays from the path, and the straying takes place only
after the wolf has already spotted his prey‘
The folly of trying to derive a clear moral message from “Little Red
Riding Hood” in any of its versions becomes evident from Eric Berne’s
rendition of a Martian’s reaction to the tale:
What kind of a mother sends a little girl into a forest where there
are wolves? Why didn’t her mother do it herself, 0t go along with
LRRH? 1f grandmother was so helpless, why did mother leave her
all by herself in a hut far away? But if LRRH had to go, how come
her mother had never warned her not to stop and talk to wolves?
The story makes it clear that LRRH had never been told that this
was dangerous. No mother could really be that stupid, so it sounds
as if her mother didn’t care much what happened to LRRH, or
maybe even wanted to get rid of her. No little girl is that stupid
either. How could LRRH look at the wolf’s eyes, ears, hands, and
4. Bruno Bettelhexm, The Uses of Enchantment. The Meaning and Importance of Fairy Tales
(New York. Knopf, 1976),

INTRODUCTION 7
olence of the original was converted into a frightening punishment for
a relatively minor infraction. It is only in the past few decades that the
tale has been reinvigorated through the eFforts of writers who have con-
tested the disciplinary edge to the story and challenged its basic asA
sumptions. Although the strategies for refraining the story vary from one
authot to the next, they generally aim to tum Little Red Riding Hood
into a clever, resourceful heroine (“It is not so easy to fool little girls
nowadays as it used to be” [17], as Thurber notes) or to rehabilitate the
wolf (“Sweet and sound she sleeps in granny’s bed, between the paws
of the tender wolf,” is the final sentence of Angela Carter’s story “The
Company of Wolves”).E
Just as writers have felt fiee to tamper and tinker with “Little Red
Riding Hood” (often radically revising its terms, as does Roald Dahl
[21—23]), critics have played fast and loose with the tale, displaying
boundless confidence in their interpretive pronouncements. To be sure,
the tale itself, by depicting a conflict between a weak, vulnerable pro-
tagonist and a laige, powerful antagonist, lends itself to a certain inter-
pretive elasticityi Allegorical readings invest the story with a kind of
interpretive plenitude, giving it a meaning, relevance, and sense that
claims to transcend historical variation. Yet these readings, whethei they
take the foim of political or social allegories can tum out to be [6A
malkably unstable.
Both Erich Fromm and Susan Brownmiiler have trained theii interv
pretive skills on “Little Red Riding Hood.” Each has read the story in
allegorical terms as depicting an eternal battle of the sexes, but those
readings reach very different conclusions about what is at stake in that
battle. mem, whose psychoanalytic account of ”Little Red Riding
Hood” came under heavy fire from the historian Robert Damton, finds
in the tale the “expression ofa deep antagonism against men and sex”9
This story, presumably passed on from one generation of women to the
next, portrays men as Iuthless and cunning animals, who tum the sexual
act into a cannibalistic ritual.
The hate and prejudice against men are even more clearly exhib
ited at the end of the story . We must remember that the
woman’s superiority consists In her ability to bear childten. How,
then, is the wolf made ridiculous? By showing that he attempted
to play the role of a pregnant woman, having living things in his
belly. Little Red—Cap puts stones, a symbol of sterility, into his
belly, and the wolf collapses and diesi His deed i . . is punished
according to his crime: he is killed by the stones, the symbol of
sterility, which mock his usurpation of the pregnant woman’s role.l
Hi In The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories (New Yoxitz Penguin. 1979) 113.
9, Ench mem, The Forgotten language: An lntmduciion to the Understanding of Dreams,
Fairy Tales and Myths (New York: Rinehan, 1951) 241.
L Fromm, Fmgotten, 241.

8 erru: RED RIDING HOOD
The notion of a wolf suffeting from womb envy may seem prepos-
temus, but Fromm is not the only intetpreter of the tale to read the
wolfs act of devouting as a covet for the desire to conceive Anne
Sexton’s wolf appears to be “in his ninth month” after gobbling down
Red Riding Hood and her grandmother, and the two are libetated when
a hunter performs “a kind of caesarian section.”Z A recent children’s
version of the tale shows the wolf peacefully sleeping with a glowing
belly, swollen to accommodate the body ofa serene Little Red Riding
Hood.3
For Susan Brownmiller, ”Little Red Riding Hood” recounts a cul-
tutal story that holds the gender bottom line by perpetuating the notion
that women ate at once victims of male violence even as they must
position themselves as heneficiaiies of male protection:
Sweet, feminine Little Red Riding Hood is off to visit her dear old
grandmothet in the woods. The wolf lutks in the shadows, con-
templating a tender morset. Little Red Riding Hood and her grand-
mother, we learn, ate equally defenseless before the male wolfs
shength and cunning. . 1 . The wolf swallows both females with
no sign of a struggle 1 . . Red Riding Hood is a parable of rape.
There are frightening male figules abroad in the woods—we call
them wolves, among other names~and females are helpless before
them. Better stick close to the path, better not be adventurous. If
you are lucky, a good friendly male may be able to save you from
cettain disaster.‘
Both Fromm and Brownmiller’s efforts to view “Little Red Riding
Hood” as a repository for certain timeless and universal truths founder
ptecisely because every critic seems to find a diffetent timeless and
universal truth in the tale Allegorical readings tend to undelmine and
discredit each other by theit very multiplicity Their sheet number he
gins to suggest that the story targeted for intetptetation is nothing but
nonsense, that it veers off in the direction of the absutd, signifying
nothing
“The Story of Gtandmother” seems to support the notion that fairy
tales function as little more than a diversion and that efforts to invest
them with meaning inevitably misfilel But the excessive number of
references to nourishment, starvation, cannibalism, and devouring in
“The Story of Grandmother” also suggests that the interpretive stakes
ate high and challenges us to understand the story’s engagement with
the basic conditions of our existence. Psychoanalytic criticism has
worked hard to understand what Alan Dundes refers to as the strong
2. Anne Sexton, “Red Riding Hood,” Transfommlinm (Boston: Huugh|on Mimi”, 1971172.
79.
3 Beni Montresor, ume Red Ridmg Hand (New York: Doubleday, 1991)
4 Susan Brownmiller, Against 0.11 wm: Mm, Women, and Rape (New Yuk Bantam, 1976)
mm.

INTRODUCTION 9
component of “infantile fantasy” at work in the tale,’ Dundes points
out that “Little Red Riding Hood,” identified in the Aame»Thompson
tale-type index6 as AT 333 and known by the title, “The C1utton,” is
prohably a cognate form of AT 123, “The Wolf and the Seven Kids.”
The only real difference, Dundes insists, is that the ogie goes to the
house of the child in AT 123, while the chiId goes to the house of the
ogre in AT 333. Dundes further argues that “Little Red Riding Hood,”
at least in its early fon‘ns, had more to do with Children’s anxieties about
being devoured than with the adult sexual anxieties that came to be
fmegrounded as the story evolved. Chiang Mi’s “Coldflower and the
Bear” (19—21) gives us an Asian veision of “The Wolf and the Seven
Kids” that reveals a Cleai kinship with early European versions of”Litl1e
Red Riding Hood” and suggests iust how Child-centered the tale was
in its eaily foims.
Angela Carter iecaIIs her fiist encounter with Penault’s Little Red
Riding Hood: “My maternal grandmother used to sayy ‘Lift up the latch
and walk in,’ when she told it [to] me when I was a child; and at the
conclusion, when the wolf jumps on Little Red Riding Hood and gob-
bles her up, my grandmother used to pretend to eat me, which made
me squeak and gibber with excited pleasure”7 Carter’s grandmother,
by impersonating the grandmother—devouiing wolf who also imperson-
ates grandmotheis, turns the mwa by tuming on he! gianddaughtei,
the girl who feasts on grandmother‘s flesh and blood in folk versions of
the tale, Carter’s account of her expeiience with “Little Red Riding
Hood” shows the tale to be one of intergenerational rivalry, yet it also
reveals the degree to which the meaning of a tale is generated in its
perfoimance. The scene of Ieading OI acting out a text can affect its
reception fat more powerfully than the morals and timeless truths in-
serted into the text by Penault, the Crimms, and others.
Consider Luciano Pavarotti’s chiIdhood experience with “Little Red
Riding Hood” and how markedly it differs from Cartet’s:
In my house, when I was a little boy, it was my grandfather who
told the stories. He was wonderful. He told violent, mysterious tales
that enchanted me. . . . My favorite one was Little Red Riding
Hood. I identified with Little Red Riding Hood I had the same
fears as she. I didn’t want hei to diet I dreaded her death—or what
we think death is. I waited anxiously for the hunter to come.“
Little Red Riding Hood’s brush with death is no longei burIesque,
playful, or emtically chaigedi Instead, it has become the site ofviolence,
5. Alan Dundes, “Interpreting ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ Psychoanalytically,” in Little Red Riding
Hood: A Casebook, ed. Man Dundes (Madisnn: U of Wiseonsm P, 1989) 225.
6. Antti Aame and Stith Thompson, The Types ofthe Folktales: A Classification and Bibliography
(Helsinki’ Academia Scienfiamm Fennica, 1961).
7. Angela Carter, ed., The Virago Book of Fairy Tales (London: Viiagu, 1990) 240,
3. Luciano Pavamtti. “Inhoduction,” in Montrcsoi, Little Red Riding Hoodi

10 LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD
melodrama, and mystery. The feeling of dread, coupled with a sense
of enchantment, captures the fascination with matters from which chil-
dren are usually shielded, Pavarotti, like Dickens, is enamored of Little
Red Riding Hood, but his infatuation is driven by her ability to survive
death, to emerge whole from the belly of the wolf even in the face of
death’s finality.
The Story of Grandmother?
There was once a woman who had made some breadi She said to
her daughter: “Take this loaf of hot bread and this bottle of milk over
to gtanny’s.”
The little girl left, At the crossroads she met a wolf, who asked:
“Where are you going?”
“I’m taking a loaf of hot bread and a bottle of milk to granny’s.”
”Which path are you going to take,” asked the wolf, “the path of
needles or the path of pins?”’
“The path of needles,” said the little girl.
“Well, then, I’ll take the path of pins.”
The little girl had fun picking up needles. Meanwhile, the wolf ar-
rived at granny’s, killed het, put some of her flesh in the pantry and a
bottle of her blood on the shelfi The little girl got there and knocked
at the door,
“Push the door,” said the wolf, “it’s latched with a wet straw.”
“Hello, gtanny. I’m biinging you a loaf of hot bread and a bottle of
milk.”
”Put it in the pantry, my child Take some ofthe meat in there along
with the bottle of wine on the shelf.”2
There was a little cat in the mom who watched her eat and said:
“Phooey! You’re a slut ifyou eat the flesh and drink the blood ofgtanny.”
”Take yam clothes off, my child,” said the wolf, “and come into bed
with me”
“Where should I put my apron?”
“Throw it into the fire, my child. You won’t be needing it any
longer.”
c Told by Louis and Francois Brifizul: in Mam, 1885. Oligmally published by Paul Delame,
in “Les Comes merveilleux de Penault et la tradition populaire,” Bulletin foltlmique d2 I’Ile-
dvamncz (1951): 221—22. Translated for this Norton Critical Edition by Maria thax. Copy»
tight 9 1999 by Maria “ram
1. Yvanne Vcl’dicl (“Grand—méres, si vous szviez . . . le Petit Chapemn Rouge dam Ia tradition
male,” Cahim dz Littimture Ovale 4 [1978]: 17—55) reads Ihc path of pins and the path of
needles as part of a social discourse pertaining to apprenticeshi s [or girls in sewing. In another
region of France, the paths are described as the palh of 1m: stones and the path of little
thorns. An Italian vexsian refers to a path ofstones and a path ufmots,
Z. Local vzriations turn the flesh mm tonelhm m Italy and inlo sausage in France, while the
blood is often said to be wine,

PERMULT / LITTLE RED RIDING Hoop 11
When she asked the wolf where to put all her other things, heI
bodice, her dress, her skirt, and her stockings, each time he said:
“Throw them into the fire, my child. You won’t be needing them any
longer.”1
“Oh, granny, how hairy you ate!”
“The better to keep me watm, my child!”
“Oh, granny, what long nails you have!”
“The bettet to scratch myself with, my child!”
“Oh, granny, what big shoulders you have!”
“The better to carry firewood with, my child!”
“Oh, granny, what big eats you have!”
“The better to hear you with, my child!”
“Oh, granny, what big nostrils you have!”
“The better to sniff my tobacco with, my child!”
“Oh, granny, what a big mouth you have!”
“The better to eat you with, my child!”
“Oh, granny, I need to go badly‘ Let me go outside!”
“Do it in the bed, my child.”
“No, granny, I want to go outside.”
“All right, but don’t stay out long.”
The wolf tied a rope made of wool to her leg and let her go outside.
When the little girl got outside, she athehed the end of the [ope to
a plum tee in the yard‘ The wolfbecame impatient and said: “Are you
making cables out there? Are you making cables?”
When he realized that there was no answer, he jumped out of bed
and discovered that the little girl had escaped He followed her, but he
reached her house only after she had gotten inside,
CHARLES PERRAULT
Little Red Riding Hood’r
Once upon a time there was a village girl, the prettiest you can
imagine. Her mother adored her‘ Her grandmother adored her even
mote and made a little red hood for her‘ The hood suited the child so
much that everywhere she went she was known by the name Little Red
Riding Hood.
One day, her mother baked some cakes and said to her: “I want you
3. Many oml renditions of the tale presumably drew out the smry by dwelling at lengih on what
happens to each article of clothing,
1 Charles Penault, “Le Fem Chapemn Rouge,” in Histoire: an Conles du temp: pom. Am
dz: Moralités (Patis: Harbin, 1697). Translated for this Norton Critical Edition by Mam Tam.
Copyright 0 1999 by Mm: Tam.

12 Lm’us RED RIDING H000
to go and see how your grandmother is faring, for I’ve heard that she’s
ill. Take her some cakes and this little pot of buttert”
Little Red Riding Hood left right away for her grandmother’s house,
which was in another villages As she was walking through the woods
she met old Neighbor Wolf, who wanted to eat her right there on the
spot. But he didn’t dare because some woodcutters were in the forest.
He asked where she was going‘ The poor child, who did not know that
it was dangerous to stop and listen to wolves, said: “I’m going to see
my grandmother and am taking her some cakes and a little pot ofhuttet
sent by my mother.”
”Does she live very far away?” asked the wolf.
“Oh, yes,” said Little Red Riding Hood‘ “She lives beyond the mill
that you can see over there. Hers is the first house you come to in the
village”
“Well, well,” said the wolf. “I think I shall go and see her too I’ll
take the path over here, and you take the path over there, and we’ll see
who gets there first”
The wolf ran as fast as he could on the shorter path, and the little
girl continued on her way along the longer path. She had a good time
gathering nuts, chasing butterflies, and picking bunches of flowers that
she found.
The wolf did not take long to get to Grandmother’s house He
knocked: Rat—a-tat—tat.
“Who’s there?”
“It’s your granddaughter, Little Red Riding Hood,” said the wolf,
disguising his voice‘ “And I’m bringing you some cake and a little pot
of butter sent by my mother.”
The dear grandmother, who was in bed because she was not feeling
well, called out: “Pull the bolt and the latch will open”
The wolf pulled the bolt, and the door opened wide. He threw him:
self on the good woman and devoured her in no time, for he had eaten
nothing in the last three days Then he closed the door and lay down
on Grandmother’s bed, waiting for Little Red Riding Hood, who, before
long, came knocking at the door: Rat—a-taHaL
‘Who’s there?”
Little Red Riding Hood was afraid at first when she heard the gruff
voice of the wolf, but thinking that her grandmother must have caught
cold, she said: “It’s your granddaughtet, Little Red Riding Hood, and I’m
bringing you some cake and a little pot of butter sent by my mother.”
The wolf tied to soften his voice as he called out to her: “Pull the
bolt and the latch will open.”
Little Red Riding Hood pulled the bolt, and the door opened wide.
When the wolf saw her come in, he hid under the covers of the bed
and said: “Put the cakes and the little pot of butter on the bin and
climb into bed with me”

BROTHERS CRIMM / Lmu: RED CAP 13
Little Red Riding Hood took OH her clothes and climbed into the
bed. She was astonished to see what her grandmother looked like in
her nightgown.
“Grandmother,” she said, “What big arms you have!”
“The better to hug you with, my child.”
“Grandmother, what big legs you have!”
“The better to run with, my childl”
“Grandmother, what big ears you have!”
“The bener to hear with, my child.”
“Grandmother, what big eyes you have!”
“The better to see with, my child”
“Grandmother, what big teeth you have!”
“The better to eat you with!”
Upon saying these words, the wicked wolf threw himself on Little
Red Riding Hood and gobbled her up
Moral
From this story one leams that children,
Especially oun girls
Prettyfly, weyllybre, and genteel
Are wrong to listen to just anyone,
And it’s not at all strange
If a wolf ends up eatin them.
I say a wolf but not al wolves
Are exactly the same
Some are perfectly charming,
Nol loud, brutal, or an ry,
But tame, pleasant, an gentle,
Following young ladies
Right into their homes, into their chambers,
But watch out if you haven’t learned that tame wolves
Are the most dangerous of all
BROTHERS GRIMM
Little Red Cap’r
Once upon a time there was a dear little girl. If you set eyes on her
you could not but love hen The person who loved her most of all was
her grandmother, and she could never give the child enough. Once
she made her a little cap of red velvet, Since it was so becoming and
I lamb and Wilhelm Grimm, ‘Rotlrfispp,”chen in Kinder urId Hammamhzn 7m ed. (Berlin.
Diutcrich 1857; fiIst published Benzn Realschulbuchhandlung, 1811) Translated fonhis
Norton Critical Edin’an by Maria Taur Capyxighk © 1999 by Maria Tam.

14 LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD
since she wanted to wear it all the time, everyone called he! Little Red
Capt
One day her mother said to her: “Look, Little Red Cap. Here‘s a
piece of cake and a bottle of wine. Take them to your grandmothen
She is ill and feels weak, and they will give her strength. You’d better
staxt now before it gets too hot, and when you’re out in the woods, walk
properly and don’t stray from the path. Otherwise you’ll fall and break
the glass, and then there’ll be nothing for Grandmother. And when you
enter her mom, don’t forget to say good morning, and don’t go peeping
in all the corners of the room,”
“I’ll do just as you say,” Little Red Cap pmmised her mother.
Grandmother lived deep in the woods, half an hour’s walk from the
village. No sooner had Little Red Cap set foot in the forest than she
met the wolf, Little Red Cap had no idea what a wicked beast he was,
and so she wasn’t in the least afraid of him.
“Good morning, Little Red Cap,” he said.
“Thank you kindly, wolf.”
“Where are you headed so early in the morning, Little Red Cap?”
“To my grandmother’s,”
“What’s that you’ve got under your apron?”
“Cake and wine. Yesterday we baked and Grandmother, who is sick
and feels weak, needs something to make her feel betteL”
“Where does you grandmother live, Little Red Cap?”
“It’s another quarter of an hour’s walk into the woods‘ Her house is
right under three large oaks. You must know the place from the haze]
hedges near it,” said Little Red Capt
The wolf thought to himself: “That tender young thing will make a
dainty morsel. She’ll be even tastier than the old woman, lfyou’re really
crafty, you’ll get them both”
He walked for a while beside Little Red Cap, Then he said: “Little
Red Cap, have you seen the beautiful flowets all about? Why don’t you
look around for a while? I don’t think you’ve even noticed how sweetly
the birds are singing. You are walking along as if you weIe on the way
to school, and yet it’s so heavenly out here in the woods.”
Little Red Cap opened her eyes wide and saw how the sunbeams
were dancing this way and that through the trees and how there were
beautiful flowers all about. She thought to herself: “If you bring a fresh
bouquet to Grandmother, she will be overjoyed. It’s still so early in the
morning that I’m sure to get there in plenty of time.”
She left the path and ran off into the woods looking for flowers. As soon
as she picked one she saw an even more beautiful one somewhere else
and went after it, and so she went deeper and deeper into the woods.
The wolf went straight to Grandmother’s house and knocked at the
door. “Who’s there?”
“Little Red Cap, I’ve brought some cake and wine. Open the door”

BROTHERS GRIMM I Ln’ruz RED CAP 15
“Just raise the latch,” Cxandmother called out, “I’m too weak to get
out of bed.”
The wolf raised the latch, and the door swung wide open. Without
saying a word, he went straight to Grandmother’s bed and gobbled heI
up. Then he put on her clothes and her nightcap, lay down in her bed,
and drew the curtains.
Meanwhile, Little Red Cap had been running around looking for
flowers, When she finally had so many that she couldn’t carry them
all, she suddenly remembered Grandmother and set off again on the
path to her house She was surprised to find the door open, and when
she stepped into the house, she had such a strange feeling that she
thought to herself: “Oh, my goodness, I’m usually so glad to be at
Grandmother’s, but today I feel so nervous.”
She called out a gleeting but there was no answeri Then she went
to the bed and drew back the curtains. Grandmother was lying there
with her nightcap pulled down over her face She looked very strange
“Oh, Grandmother, what big ears you have!”
“The better to hear you with,”
“Oh, Crandmothex, what big eyes you have!”
“The better to see you with”
“Oh, Grandmother, what big hands you have!”
“The better to grab you with!”
“Oh, Grandmother, what a big, scary mouth you have!”
“The better to eat you with!”
No sooner had the wolf spoken those words than he leaped out of
bed and gobbled up poor Little Red Cap.
Once the wolf had satisfied his desires, he lay down again in bed,
fell asleep, and began to snore very loudly. A huntsman happened to
be passing by the house just then and thought to himself: “How the
old woman is snoring] You’d better check to see what’s wrong” He
walked into the house and when he got to the bed he saw that the wolf
was lying in it
“I’ve found you at last, you old sinner,” he said. “I‘ve been after you
for a while now.”
He pulled out his musket and was about to take aim when he realized
that the wolf might have eaten Grandmother and that she could still
be saved. Instead of firing, he took out a pair of scissors and began
cutting open the belly of the sleeping wolf, After making a few Snips,
he could see a red cap faintly. After making a few more Cuts, the girl
jumped out, crying: “Oh, how terrified I was! It was so dark in the
wolf’s belly!” And then the old grandmother found her way out alive,
though she could hardly breathe. Little Red Cap quickly fetched some
large stones and filled the wolf‘s belly with them. When he awoke, he
was about to bound off, but the stones were so heavy that his legs
collapsed and he fell down dead.

16 LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD
All three were overjoyed, The hunlsman skinned the wolf and went
home with the pelt Grandmother ate the cake and drank the wine
Little Red Cap had brought her and recovered her health Little Red
Cap thought to hetselfz “Nevet again will you stray from the path and
go into the woods, when your mother has forbidden it”
Theie is also a story about another wolf who met Little Red Cap on
the way to CIandmothet’s, as she was taking her some cakes. The wolf
tried to divert her fmm the path, but Little Red Cap was on her guard
and kept right on going She told her grandmother that she had met
the wolf and that he had greeted her. But he had looked at her in such
an evil way that “If we hadn’t been out in the open, he would have
gobbled me right up”
“Well then,” said Grandmother. “We’ll just lock that doot so he can’t
get in,”
Not much latet the wolflmocked at the door and called out: “Open the
door, Grandmother, it’s Little Red Cap. I’rn btinging you some cakes.”
The two kept quiet and didn’t open the door. Then old Crayhead
circled the house a few times and finally jumped up on the [oof He
was planning on waiting until Little Red Cap went home. Then he was
going to steep up after hat and gobble her up in the dark. But Ctand-
mothel guessed what he had on his mind There was a big stone trough
in front of the house. She said to the child: “Here’s a bucket, Little
Red Cape Yesterday I cooked some sausages. Take the water in which
they were boiled and pour it into the trough,”
Little Red Cap kept carrying water until that big, big trough was
completely full. The smell of those sausages reached the wolf’s nostrils.
His neck was stretched out so long from sniffing and looking around
that he lost his balance and began to slide down He went right down
the mof into the trough and was drowned. Little Red Cap walked home
cheerfully, and no one did her any harm.
JAMES THURBER
The Little Girl and the Wolf’r
One afternoon a big wolf waited in a datk forest {m a little girl to come
along carrying a basket of food to her grandmothen Finally a little girl
did come along and she was carrying a basket of food. “Are you carrying
that basket to your grandmother?” asked the wolf. The little girl said
t lame: Thutber, ”The Little Citl and the Wolf,” from Fables [01 Om Time and Famous Poem:
Illustrated by lame: Thurber (New York: Harpers, 1940). Copyright © 1940 by )amesThurheI,
renewed l968 by Helen Thuxbex and Rosemary A. Thurher. Reprinted by anangementwith
Rosemary A. Thurber and the Barbara Hogenson Agency.

CALVINO / THE FALSE GRANDMOTHER 17
yes, she wasi So the wolf asked her where her grandmother lived and
the little girl told him and he disappeared into the wood.
When the little gitl opened the door of her grandmother’s house she
saw that there was somebody in bed with a nightcap and nightgown
on. She had appmached no nearer than twenty—five feet from the bed
when she saw that it was not her grandmother but the wolf, for even
in a nighteap a wolf does not look any more like your grandmothet
than the MetrmColdwyn lion looks like Calvin Coolidge. So the little
girl took an automatic out of her basket and shot the wolf dead.
Moral: It is not so easy to fool little girls nowadays as it used to be.
ITALO CALVINO
The False Grandmother?
A mother had to sift flout, and told her little girl to go to her gtand-
mothet’s and bonow the Sifter. The child packed a snack—ring—shaped
cakes and bread with oil—and set out.
She came to the Jordan River.
“Jordan River, will you let me pass?”
“Yes, if you give me your Iing—shaped cakes.”
The Jordan River had a weakness for ring—shaped cakes, which he
enjoyed twirling in his Whirlpools.
The child tossed the ring—shaped cakes into the liver, and the river
lowered its waters and let her through.
The little girl came to the Rake Cate,
“Rake Cate, will you let me pass?”
”Yes, if you give me your bread with oil”
The Rake Gate had a weakness for bread with oil, since her hinges
were rusty, and bread with oil oiled them for her,
The little girl gave the gate her biead with oil, and the gate opened
and let het thmugh.
She reached her grandmother’s house, but the door was shut tight.
“Grandmother, Grandmother, come let me in,”
“I’m in bed sick Come through the window.”
“I can’t make it”
“Come thmugh the cat doort”
”I can’t squeeze through.”
”Well, wait a minute,” she said, and lowered a rope, by which she
pulled the little girl up through the window, The room was dark In
1 “The False Grandmother,” recorded by Antonio de Nino, 188;, in 1mm”. Falklalzx» selected
and retold by ltalo Calvino. nan; Cemge Martin (New York: Pantheon Books, 1930). Copy
right © 1980 by Harcourt Brace a, company, xepxinted by permission of Harcourt Brace &
Company.

18 LITrLE RED RIDING HOOD
bed was the ogress, not the grandmother, for the egress had gobbled
up Grandmother all in one piece fiom head to toe, all except het teeth,
which she had put on to stew in a small stew pan, and her ears, which
she had put on to fry in a frying pan.
“Grandmother, Mammal wants the Sifter.”
“It’s late now. I’ll give it to you tomorrow, Come to bed.”
“Cmndmother, I’m hungry, I want my supper first.”
“Eat the beans boiling in the boiler.”
In the pot were the teeth. The chiId stirred them around and said,
“Ctandmother, they’te too hard,”
“We“, eat the hitters in the frying pan”
In the frying pan were the ears. The child felt them with the fork
and said, “Crandmother, they’te not crisp.”
“Well, come to bed, You can eat tomorrow.”
The IittIe girl got into bed beside Grandmother. She felt one of her
hands and said, ”Why are your hands so hairy, Grandmother?”
“From wearing too many rings on my fingers.”
She felt her chest. “Why is your chest so hairy, Grandmother?”
“From wearing too many necklaces around my neck”
She felt her hips, “Why are your hips so hairy, Grandmother?”
“Because I wore my corset too tight,”
She felt her tail and Ieasoned that, hairy or not, Grandmother had
never had a tail. That had to he the egress and nobody else, So she
said, ”Grandmother, I can’t go to sleep unless I first go and take care
of a little business‘”
Grandmother teplied, “Co do it in the ham beIow. I’II let you down
through the trapdoor and then draw you back up.”
She tied a rope around her and lowered her into the barn. The
minute the little girl was down she untied the rope and in her place
attached a nanny goat “Are you through?” asked Grandmother.
“Just a minute” She finished tying the rope around the nanny goat.
“There, I’ve finished PuII me back up.”
The ogress pulled and pulled, and the little giII began yelling, “Hairy
egress! Hairy egress!” She threw open the ham and fled. The egress
kept pulling, and up came the nanny goat. She jumped out of bed and
ran after the little girI.
When the child reached the Rake Gate, the ogress yelled from a
distance, “Rake Cate, don’t let her pass!”
But the Rake Cate replied, “Of course I’ll let her pass; she gave me
her bread with oiL”
When the child reached the Jordan River, the egress shouted,
“Jordan River, don’t you let her pass!”
But the Ionian River answered, “Of course I’ll let her pass; she gave
me her ring—shaped cakest”
When the Ogress tried to get through, the Jordan River did not lower

CHIANG Mr / GomFLowan AND THE BEAR 19
his waters, and the egress was swept away in the current. From the
bank the little girl made faces at her.
CHIANG MI
Goldfiower and the Beari
Long, long ago, there was a clever and brave girl called Coldfiower
who lived with her mother and brother. They were very happy.
One day, her mother said: “Your Aunty is ill. I’m going to see her
and won’t be back tonight Look after your brother and ask your Granny
to stay with you tonight!” Then she left with a basket of eggs and a
hen.
At sunset, Coldflower herded the sheep home. After penning up the
sheep, she shooed all the chickens into the coop. Then, she and her
brother climbed a small hill to call Granny, Usually, after one shout,
there would be an answer, but today there was no reply after several
shoutsi Coldflower thought: “It doesn’t marten I’m not afraid.” They
went home and she bolted the door.
Lighting 3 wick, they sat by the fire-pan and she began to tell her
brother a story. Suddenly they heard a knock at the door. Brother
hugged her and cried: “I’m afraid!”
They heard a strange but kindly voice saying: “I’m Granny.” Brother
was very happy and shouted: “Sister, open the door! Granny has come!”
Coldfiower leaned against the door and asked: “ls that you, Granny?
What‘s wrong with your voice?”
“I’ve a cold.” Came the reply followed by coughsi
The boy urged his sister to open the door. Meanwhile, the voice
continued: “My dear, there is something wrong with my eyes and I’m
afraid oflight. Please blow out the wick before letting me in.”
It was so dark in the room that they couldn’t see who was coming
in, Coldfiower invited “Granny” to a stool, but it cried out when sitting
down. The children jumped in fright. The “Granny” said: “Dear, I’ve
a boil so I can’t sit on hard wood. Please give me a wicker basket.”
The swishing of the Bear’s tail in the dark caused Coldflower to ask:
“What’s making that noise?”
“Oh! It’s the Hy-swatter your grandpa bought for me,” replied
“Granny”
The clever girl stoked the fire brighter and, wow, there was a pair of
hairy feet! Now she realized this isn’t Granny. It’s the Bear which likes
to eat Children Coidflower calmed and pretended to have seen noth-
r “Goldfiower and the Bear,” in Jack Zipes, m mils and Tribulations of Little Red Riding
de (New York: Routledge, 1993). Recorded by Chiang M), 1979. Copyright © 1993, R:-
printed by permission of Routledge, Inc.

20 LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD
ing. But how to deal with this wicked Bear? Her mother had told her
that bears were afraid of lice, She grabbed a handful of seeds and took
off her brother’s hat, pretending to be catching lice in his hair. She
threw the seeds into the first They crackled. The Bear growled: “Don’t
let him sleep with me with his lice. Let him sleep outside!”
Brother was so afraid that he began to sobi Coldflower coaxed him
to go to the other room to sleep. She locked the door on her way back.
When she got back, the Bear asked her to go to bed. The Bear was
very happy because it could have a hearty meal at midnight. But the
clever Coidflower was 3150 thinking of a way out, After sleeping for a
while, she cried: “My tummy hurts! I want to go on the pot,”
The Bear thought: She would not be good to eat like thisi So, it tied
one end of a belt to Coidflower’s hand and let her go outside. After a
while, the Bear pulled and then pulled again. It seemed that the girl
was still on the other end. A long time passed The Bear called several
times but there was no answer. It got worried and pulled hardi Clunki
Something tumbled. The Bear was puzzled and felt its way along the
belt. There was nothing at the end but a pot The Bear was very angry.
It was aiready midnight and the Bear started bellowing for food like any
beast Failing to find Coldfluwer, it stopped to drink some water from
a pond before continuing the search. It saw Coldflower in the water
and was overjoyedi When the Bear reached into the water to grasp
Coldflower, she disappeared The Bear angrily watched. When the wa-
ter became still, Coldflower reappeared The Bear reached out but
Goldfiower again vanished. The Bear did not know what to do. Alaugh
came from above The Bear quickly looked up and saw Goldfiower in
a tree, The image in the water was her reflection The Bear wanted to
climb the tree, but Coidflower had covered it with grease. The Bear
slipped again and again. The Bear could only wait under the tree hap-
less while Goldfiower laughed up on the tree. “Granny, do you want
to eat some pears? Please get me the spear in the house.”
The Bear was really happy to hear this and went to fetch the spear.
The Bear handed her the spear and, pointing to a few big pears, it said:
“Give me those”
”Granny, open your mouth Here comes the pear!” Coldflower threw
one at the Bear’s mouth.
The Bear ate it in two bites and asked her to spear some more.
”Granny, this time open your mouth wide. It is a real big one.”
The Bear opened its mouth as wide as it could And with all her
might, CoidHower threw the spear into its mouth, With a groan, the
Bear fell flat Coldflower slid down the tree and kicked the dead Bear.
”Do you still want to eat children?”
Roosters crowed. Goldflower opened the door to her brother‘s room.
He was sleeping soundly. She woke him and took him to the dead
body. Now he knew that it was the wicked old Beari The sun was rising

DAHL / RED RIDING HOOD AND THE WOLF 21
red in the east. Mother came back She was very pleased to heat what
had happened and praised the brave little girl. The story of Goldflower
and the Bear spread far and wide.
ROALD DAHL
Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolff
As soon as Wolf began to feel
That he would like a decent meal,
He went and knocked on Grandma’s door.
When Grandma opened it, she saw
The sharp white teeth, the horrid grin,
And WoIfie said, ‘May I come in?’
Foot Grandmamma was tenified,
‘He’s going to eat me up!’ she cried,
And she was absolutely right
He ate her up in (me big hits,
But Ctandmamma was small and tough,
And WoIfie wailed, “That’s not enough!
‘I haven’t yet begun to feel
‘That I have had a decent meal!’
He ran atound the kitchen yelping,
‘I’ve got to have anothet helping!’
Then added with a ftightful leer,
‘I’m therefore going to wait right here
‘TiII Little Miss Red Riding Hood
‘Comes home fmm walking in the wood.’
He quickly put on Grandma’s clothes,
(Of course he hadn’t eaten those.)
He dressed himself in coat and hat.
He put on shoes and after that
He even brushed and curled his hair,
Then sat himself in Grandma’s chair,
In came the little girl in red
She stopped, She stared. And then she said,
‘What great big ears you have, Grandma.‘
‘All the better to hear you with,’ the Wolf replied.
‘What great big eyes you have, Crandmn,’
c Roald Dahl, “Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf,” in Roald Dahl’s szolring Rhymn (New
York: Penguin, Puffin Books, 1995; Copyright 9 1982 by Roald Dahl. Reprinted by permis-
sion of Random House. Inc.

22 errLE RED RIDING HOOD
said Little Red Riding Hood,
‘All the better to see you with,’ the Wolf [eplied
He sai there watching her and smiled,
He thought, I’m going to eat this child
Compared with her old Crandmamma
She’s going to taste like caviare.
Then Little Red Riding Hood said, ‘But Grandma,
what a lovely great big fitn’y cant you have on.’
‘That‘s wiong!’ cried Wolf. ‘Have you forgot
‘To tell me what BIG TEETH I’ve got?
‘Ah well, no matter what you say,
‘I’m going to eat you anyway.’
The small girl smiles. One eyelid flickersi
She whips a pistol from her knickers,
She aims if at the creature’s head
And bang bang bang, she shoots him dead.
A few weeks later, in the wood,
I came across Miss Riding Hood.
But what a change! No cloak of red,
N0 silly hood upon her head
She said, ‘Hello, and do please note
‘My lovely furry WOLFSKIN COAT)
ROALD DAHL
The Three Little Pigsl
The animal I really dig
Above all others is the pig,
Pigs are noble. Pigs ate clever,
Figs are couiteousi However,
Now and then, to break [his rule,
One meets a pig who is a fool.
What, for example, would you say
If strolling through Ihe woods one day,
Right there in front of you you saw
A pig who’d built his house of STRAW?
The Wolf who saw it licked his lips,
And said, ‘That pig has had his chips.’
9 Roald Dahl, “The Three Little Plgs,” In Roam Dahl’s Revnllmg Rhyme: (New York: Pengum,
Pumn Books, l995) Copyright © 1982 by Roald Dahl. Reprinled by pzrmlssion olRandom
House, Inc.

DAHL /THE THREE LITI’LE PIGS 23
‘Little pig, little pig, let me come in!’
‘No, no, by the hairs on my chinny-chin-chin!’
‘Then I’ll huffand I’ll puffand I’ll blow your
house in!’
The little pig began to play,
But Wolfie blew his house away.
He shouted, ‘Bacan, pork and ham!
‘Oh, what a lucky Wolfl am!’
And though he ate the pig quite fast,
He eaiefully kept the tail till last
Wolf wandered on, a trifle bloatedi
Surprise, surprise, for soon he noted
Another little house for pigs,
And this one had been built of TWIGS!
‘Little pig, little fiig, let me come in!’
‘NO, 710, by the hairs of my chinnywhinehin!’
“Then I’ll huffand I’ll puff and I’ll blow your
house in!’
The Wolf said, ‘Okay, here we go!y
He then began to blow and blow.
The little pig began to squeali
He cried, ‘Oh Wolf, you’ve had one meal!
‘Why can’t we talk and make a deal?’
The Wolf ieplied, ‘Not on your nelly!’
And soon the pig was in his belly.
‘Two juicy little pigs!’ Wolf Cried,
‘But still I am not satisfied!
‘I know full well my Tummy’s bulging,
‘But oh, how I adore indulging.’
So cleeping quietly as a mouse,
The Wolf appmached another house,
A house which also had inside
A little piggy trying to hide.
But this one, Piggy Numbei Three,
Was bright and brainy as could be.
No straw fat him, no twigs or sticks.
This pig had built his house of BRICKS.
‘You’ll not get me!’ the Piggy cried,
‘I’ll blow you down!’ the Wolf ieplied.
You’ll need,’ Pig said, ‘a lot of puff,
‘And I don’t think you’ve got enough.’
Wolf huffed and puffed and blew and blew

24 LImE RED RIDING HOOD
The house stayed up as good as new.
‘1“ can’t blow it dawn,’ Wolf said,
‘I’ll have to blow it up instead‘
‘I’ll come back in the dead of night
‘And blow it up with dynamite!‘
Pig cried, ‘You brute! I might have known!‘
Then, picking up the telephone,
He dialled as quickly as he could
The number of Red Riding Hood
‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Who’s speaking? Wha?
‘Oh, hello Piggy, how d’you do?’
Pig cried, ‘I need your help, Miss Hood!
‘Oh help me, please! D’you think you could?’
‘I’ll try, of course,’ Miss Hood replied.
‘What’s on your mind.77 . . . ‘A Wolf.“ Pig cried.
‘I know you’ve dealt with wolves before,
‘And now I’ve got one at my door!’
‘My darling Pig,’ she said, ‘my sweet,
‘That’s something really up my street.
‘I’ve just begun to wash my hair.
‘But when it’s dry, I’ll be right there,’
A short while later, through the wood,
Came striding brave Miss Riding Hood.
The Wolf stood there, his eyes ablaze
And yellowish, like mayonnaise.
His teeth were sharp, his gums were raw,
And spit was dripping from his jaw.
Once more the maiden’s eyelid flickers‘
She draws the pistol from her knickersr
Once more, she hits the vital spot,
And kills him with a single shot.
Pig, peeping through the window, stood
And yelled, ‘Well done, Miss Riding Hood!’
Ah, Piglet, you must never trust
Young ladies from the upper crust,
For now, Miss Riding Hood, one notes,
Not only has two wolfskin coats,
But when she goes from place to place,
She has a PIGSKIN TRAVELLING CASE.

INTRODUCTION:
Beauty ancl the Beast

“Beauty and the Beast,” unlike most fairy tales, accommodates two
developmental haiectories. It not only charts the challenges facing
Beauty but also registers the transformation sustained by Beast, showing
how these two antithetical allegorical figures resolve their differences
to be joined in wedlock. What makes this story especially athactive is
the way in which it is deeply entrenched in the myth of romantic love
even as its representational energy is channeled into the tense moral,
economic, and emotional negotiations that complicate courtship ritu-
als. Virtually every culture knows this story in at least one of the variant
forms of the tale type designated by folklorists as “The Search for the
Lost Husband” or “The Man on a Quest for His Last Wife.”x While
we may be burdened with a version of “Beauty and the Beast” that
reflects the social mores of centuries ago, we also have an array of adept
rescriptings that address the Iich complexities and troubling anxieties
of contemporary romantic entanglements‘
“Cupid and Psyche,” the earliest known version of “Beauty and the
Beast,” appeared in the second century AiD. in Apuleius’s Transformm
tions of Lucian, Otherwise Known as the Golden Ass. Told by a
“drunken and half-demcntcd” woman to a young bride abducted by
bandits on her wedding day, it is described as a fairy tale meant to
console the distraught Captive. While ”Cupid and Psyche” shares many
features with “Beauty and the Beast” as we know it today, it deviates
from what has become our canonical version of the tale in a number
of key waysi Eros, the first “Beast,” is only rumored to be a monster,
and it is he who abandons Psyche, after her sisters urge her to take a
look at the “enormous snake” that is her husband More importantly,
Psyche’s story is what one critic has declared a “paradigm of female
heroism”; The intrepid heroine, iilted by Cupid, never indulges in
self—pity but sets off on an epic quest fraught with risks and requiring
her to accomplish one impossible task after another, Unlike her elo-
Encketed page numbers (etc! to this Norton Critical Edition,
1, Anni Aame and sum Thompson, The Types afthz Falktalz- A Classification and Bibliography
(Helsinki: Academia Scientmum Fennica, 1961)i
2, Lu Edwards, ”l’hc Laban ofPsyche: Toward a Theory ofFemaIe Heroism,” Criticallnquiry
6 (1979): 37,
25

26 BEAUTY AND THE BEAST
quent avatars in European versions of “Beauty and the Beast,” Psyche
is all action and no words. She undertakes a mission that not only
requires the performance of feats (sorting grains, fetching a hank of
golden wool, bringing Venus a jar ofice-cold water from the river Styx),
but also demands that she renounce that quintessential feminine virtue
known as compassion—the very hail that comes to the fore in European
variants of“Beauty and the Beast.”
The version of “Beauty and the Beast” best known to Anglo-Ameri-
can audiences was penned in 1757 by Madame de Beaumont (Jeanne-
Maiie Leprince de Beaumont) for her Magasin des Enfantx. Based on
a baroque literary version of more than one hundred pages written in
1740 by Mademoiselle Gabiielle-Suzanne de Villeneuve, Madame de
Beaumont’s courtly “Beauty and the Beast” reflects a desire to transform
fairy tales into what Angela Carter has called ”palables ofinstruetion,”
vehicles for indoctrinating and enlightening children about the virtues
of good manners, good bieeding, and good behavior. But the lessons
and moral imperatives inscribed in Beaumont’s “Beauty and the Beast”
pertain almost unilatelally to the tale’s young women, who, in a coda,
are showered with either praise or blame. As Caiter points out, the
metal of Madame de Beaumont’s tale has more to do with “being
good” than with “doing well”: ”Beauty’s happiness is founded on her
abstract quality of virtue.”3 With nervous pedagogical zeal, Madame de
Beaumont concludes her tale with a flurry of plaudits and aspersionsl
Beauty has ”preferred virtue to looks” and has “many virtues” along
with a marriage “founded on virtue” [42]. Hex two sisters, by contrast,
have hearts “filled with envy and malice” [42].
Beauty’s virtues, as her story makes clear, stem from a willingness to
sacrifice herself. After discovering that Beast is prepared to accept one
of the daughters in place of the father, she declares: “I feel fortunate
to be able to sacrifice myself for him, since I will have the pleasure of
saving my father and proving my feelings of tenderness for him” [36].
To be sure, not all Beauties are such willing victims. In the Norwegian
“East 0′ the Sun and West 0’ the Moon,” the heroine has to be talked
into marrying the beast (a white beat) by her father: “[He] kept on
telling her of all the riches they would get, and how well 011 she would
be herself; and so at last she thought better of it”.* Mairying her daugh-
ter off to a swine does not appear to be a terrible prospect to a woman
in Shaparola’s “Pig King,” especially aftel she learns that the daughter
stands to inherit a kingdom. And in words that read to us like a pamdy
of patemal expectations, the king of Basile’s “Serpent” pleads with his
3. Angela Carter, “About the Stories,” in Sleepin Beauty and Other Favourite Fairy Tales, ed.
Angela Carter (Boston: Otter Books, 1991) 128g.
4′ “East 0′ the Sun and West 0′ the Moon,” in The Blue Fairy Tale Book, ed. Andrew Lang
(Harmondsworth: Penguin, Puffin Books, 1987) 2′

INTRODUCTION Z7
daughter to take a snake as her husband: “Finding myself, 1 know not
how, bound by my promise, I beg you, if you are a dutiful daughter,
to enable me to keep my word and to content yourself with the husband
Heaven sends and 1 am forced to give you,”5
That the desire for wealth motivates parents to turn their daughters
over to a beast points to the possibility that these tales mirror social
practices of an eailiei age. Many an arranged marriage must have
seemed like marriage to a beast, and the telling of stories like “Beauty
and the Beast” may have furnished women with a socially acceptable
channel fot providing therapeutic advice, comfort, and consolation Yet
what many of these tales seem to endorse in one cultural inflection
after another is a reinscription of patriarchal norms, the subordination
of female desire to male desire, and a glorification of filial duty and
self-sacrifice, Angela Carter’s “Courtship of ML Lyon” is unique in its
effort to demystify these “natural” virtues by subjecting them to gro-
tesque exaggeration, Her heroine, who is “possessed by a sense of 0b-
ligation to an unusual degree,” perceives herself to be “Miss Lamb,
spotless, sacrificial.”6
Madame de Beaumont’s version of ”Beauty and the Beast” not only
endorses the importance of obedience and self-denial, but also uses the
tale to pteach the transformative power of love, more specifically the
importance of valuing essences over appearancesi That the latter lesson
should be insciibed in a tale with a heroine who embodies physical
perfection and a seamless fit between external appearances and inner
essences is an irony that seems to have escaped the Fiench governess.
In men, by contrast, extemal appearances, and even charm, count for
nothing. As Beauty puts it, in Madame de Beaumont’s tale: ”It is neither
good looks nor great wit that makes a woman happy with he! husband,
but Character, virtue, and kindness, and Beast has all those good qual-
itiesi I may not be in love with him, but I feel Iespect, fiiendship, and
gratitude toward him” [40]. In an anonymous veision of 1818, Beauty
delivers a similar speech attesting to the way in which Beast’s kindness
makes his “deformity” virtually disappear,7
Iust as “Beauty and the Beast” was entering print, it took various
didactic turns that had been absent fmm many of the folk versions.
Madame de Beaumont’s tale, which has become the canonical text in
Anglo-American and European cultuies, erases the burlesque humor
and bizarre twists and turns found in many folk versions of the tale.
Written at the dawn of the Enlightenment, it attempted to steady the
5, Giambatlista Basile, “Serpent,” in The Pentamemne, trans. Benedetto Croce, at N M. Penzer
(New York: john Lane the Bodley Head, 1932) 1.163,
6, Angela Carter, “The Courtship at Mr. Lyon,” m The Bloody Chamber and Other Stan’es
(Hannondsworth: Penguin, 1993) 45.
7 Marina Warner, ”Reluctant Brides: Beauty and the Beast I,” In Film: the Beast to the Brande:
On Fuvry Tales and Thai! Tellers (New York Farrar, Snaus and Giroux, 199‘?) 295,

28 BEAUTY AND THE BEAST
fears of young women, to reconcile them to the custom of ananged
marriages, and to btace them for an alliance that requited them to
efface their own desires and to submit to the will of a “monster,”
That thete ate multiple altematives to the social notms presented in
Madame de Beaumont’s story hecomes evident not only in recent re-
castings of “Beauty and the Beast” by Angela Carter and others, but
also in eatlier versions that found their way into print. Consider the
comic possibilities inherent in tales about girls who many pigs, hedge-
hogs, snakes, frogs, or donkeys and the ways in which folk raconteurs
no doubt elaborated on courtship rituals and gtew expansive about the
wedding night. When the transformation from beast to man does not
take place until the morning after—or many mornings after, as in Stra-
parola’s ”Pig King” in the Neapolitan Pleasant Nights—it is not difficult
to exttact humor from bedroom scenes:
As soon as the time for retiring for the night had come, the bride
went to bed and awaited her unseemly spouse, and, as soon as he
came, she raised the coverlet and bade him lie near to her and
put his head upon the pillow . . , When morning had come the
pig got up and ranged abroad to pasture, . . . The queen went to
the bride’s chamber, expecting to find that she had met with the
same fate as her sisters; but when she saw [Meldina] lying in the
bed, all defiled with mud as it was, and looking pleased and con-
tented, she thanked God for this favor, that her son had at last
found a spouse according to his liking.
OI imagine how the gtotesqueries 0f the Russian “Snotty Coat” (“snot
ran down his nose, slohbet ran from his mouth”)8 and the Italian
“Mouse with the Long Tail” (“a tail 3 mile long that smelled to high
heaven”)v might have enlivened long winter evenings devoted to house-
hold chores.
These variants of “Beauty and the Beast” offered more than just the
opportunity for pointed wisecracks, spitited bantet, and bawdy humor.
The heroine of “The Snotty Goat,” for example, is no self-effiicing
Beauty. She is described as “not a hit squeamish,” willing to tolerate
the vulgar habits of her betrothed yet also defiantly slapping the checks
of anyone who tries to belittle her. Defiance is, in fact, a chatacteristic
trait of many of the folkloric heroines who find themselves pestered by
beasts, In the Grimms’ ”Three Little Birds,” the heroine and her two
brothers encounter a large black dog who turns into “a handsome
prince” after being struck on the face. The fairy—tale heroine who reacts
with avetsion, loathing, or anger to the beastly exterior of her pmspec-
8. Alexander Manmv, “The Sunny Goat.” in Russian Fairy Tales, tram Norbert Cuterman
(New York: Pantheon, 1945) 201,
9. “The Mouse with the Long Tale.” in Italian Folktales, comp halo Calvino, trans. George
Mam” (New Yoxk. Pantheon, 1980) 653.

INTRODUCTION 29
tive spouse seems no less likely to effect a magical transformation than
her tenderly affectionate or compassionate counterpart.
The Grimms’ “Frog King, 0! Iron Heinrich,” although classified by
folklorists as a tale type separate from “Beauty and the Beast,” bears a
distinct family Iesemblance to it. Like Beauty, the princess in the
Crimms’ tale must accept an animal suitor, but, despite heI father’s
admonition (“You shouldn’t scom someone who helped you when you
weIe in trouble!” [40]), she balks at the idea ofletting the frog into heI
bedi Flying into a rage, she hurls the erotically ambitious frog against
the wall: ”Now you’ll get your test, you disgusting frog!” [50],
Some variant forms of the Crimms‘ tale feature a princess who ad< mits the frog to her Chamber despite his revolting appearance, but must give us a princess who is perfectly capable of committing acts rivaling the coldblooded violence of dashing a ereatute against a wall. Scottish and Gaelic versions of “The Frog King" show the princess beheading her suitor. A Polish variant replaces the frog with a snake and recounts in lavish detail the princess's act of teaiing the creature in two. A mote Lame Lithuanian text requires the burning of the snake’s skin before the piince is freed from his reptilian state. Acts of passion as much as acts of compassion have the power to disenchant. Although the ptincess of “The Frog King, or Imn Heinrich" is self-absorbed, ungrateful, and cruel, in the end she does as well for herself as all of the modest, obedient, and charitable Beauties of “Search for the Lost Husband" tales. “Beauty and the Beast" stands as a model for a plot Iich in oppor- tunities for expressing a woman’s anxieties about marriage, but, in te- cent years, it has turned into a story focused on Beast rather than on Beauty. As Marina Warner points out, “the athaction of the wild, and of the wild brother in twentieth-century culture, cannot be overesti- mated; as the century advanced, in the cascade of delibeiate revisions of the tale, Beauty stands in need of the Beast, rather than vice veIsa, and the Beast’s beasfliness is good, even adorable"I While eighteenth- and nineteenthcentury versions of the tale celebrated the eivilizing power of feminine virtue and its triumph over crude animal desire, out own culture hails Beast's hemic defiance of civilization, with all its diseontents. The happy ending to Angela Carter's ”Tiger's Bride" reverses the fladitional terms of “Beauty and the Beast." Fulfilling a contract re- quiring her to strip before the beast, the heroine approaches her op- pressor as if offeting “the key to a peaceable kingdom in which his appetite need not be my extinction" [65L Haunted by ”the fear of devourment” [65], she nonetheless courageously approaches Beast, pie» pared to hold up her fathet's end of the bargain: l, Wamer, “Go Be a Beast: Beauty and lhe Beast 11," in Beast, 307. 30 BEAUTY AND THE BEAST He dragged himself closer and closer to me, until I felt the harsh velvet of his head against my hand, then a tongue, abtasive as sandpaper. “He will lick the skin off me!" And each stroke of his tongue ripped off skin after successive skin, all the skins ofa life in the world, and left behind a nascent patina ofshining hairsi My earrings turned back to water and trickled down my shouldets; I shrugged the drops off my beautiful fur, Ion Scieszka plays fast and loose with the ground rules of folk nar- ratives in his recasting of “The Frog King" for children, The Fmg Prince Continued. His story, which begins after the transformation into a prince, reveals “the shocking truth about life ‘happily ever after.‘ " The ptincess and the prince live in such marital discord that the prince flees, searching for a witch who can effect his transformation back into a frog, Yet in the end, as in the conclusion to “The Tiget's Bride," an authentic happy ending is found in a retum to nature for both partners: ”The Prince kissed the Princess. They both turned into frogs. And they hopped off happily ever afterl"z Scieszka has done more than give a clever new twist to an old tale. He has effected a profound ideological shift, ttansfotming the tale from one that celebrates the supetiotity of culture over nature to one that concedes nature's triumph over culture. Human beings, as it turns out, are the real beam. The pmfound shift in cultural values Iegistered in Carter's “Tiger’s Bride" and Seieszka's Frog Prince Continued also finds expression in the Disney Studio version of “Beauty and the Beast" The true villain in this cinematic tale is Gaston (Beast‘s Iival for Belle), 3 man who endorses the rigid, self-destruetive logic of Westem civilization and sanctions ecological devastation. Disney's Beast, virile yet sensitive, re» mains attuned to nature and open to the notion of Iegeneration by cultivating his feminine side. The Disney version in this particular case gives us a Beast—centered narrative devoted almost exclusively to the development of the male figure in the story. Manna Warner finds in Belle nothing but a cover for telling the story of Beast: “While the Disney version ostensibly tells the story of the feisty, shong—willed her- oine, and Carries the audience along on the wave of her dash, her impatient ambitions, het btavery, her self—awareness, and her integrity, the pIincipal burden of the film’s message coneems maleness, its var— ious faces and masks, and, in the spirit of romance, it offers hope of regeneration from within the untegenerate male."g With such a profusion of tales about animal grooms, it is easy to forget that women also often fall victim to enchantments and suffet in silence as snakes, frogs, and ravens, waiting for the right man to come along. While these tales may have fallen into cultural disfavor, with few 2. Ion Scieszka, The Frog Prince Continued (New York Viking, 19‘31) 3. Warner, "Co," Beast, 314. INTRODUCTION 3] incorpoiated into the current canon of children's literature, they are worth looking at to see the extent to which gender becomes destiny in folklore. Compalisons of the two tale types can reveal the deglee to which the folkloric imagination constructs subjectivity and desire dif- feientiy for men and fat women. To begin with, it is important to beat in mind that the titles “The Search for the Lost Husband" (AT 425) and “The Man on a Quest fox His Lost Wife" (AT 420) already reflect a certain degree of critical distortion. The two different lexical registers (“search" veisus “quest") speak for themseives (a quest is more noble than a search), as does the absence of the female subject in the title “The Search {oi the Lost Husband." That the teim quest is not always appmpiiate for desciibing a husband's action becomes evident from a Ieading of “The Frog Piin- cess," a Russian tale about an enchanted biide. So resouiceful, enter» prising, and accomplished is this amphibious wife that she succeeds in earning the devotiun of a human husband who does little more than burn her animal skin (and too soon at that). Yet the early burning 0f the skin leads to a second phase of action that demonstrates the hus~ band's willingness to go to the ends of the eaith for his wife’s sake and culminates in a joyous reunion of the pain One cultural variant of mThe Man on a Quest for His Lost Wife" is particularly prescient in its representation of nostalgia for a return to an original, primordial state of being. “The Swan Maiden," a tale wide- spread in Scandinavian regions, discloses the secretly oppiessive nature of maniage with its attendant housekeeping and childreaiing [espon- sibilities. Swan maidens, domesticated by an act of violence, eventually seize the opportunity to return to an unsullied natural condition The tormented Nora of Ibsen's Doll‘s House, a figure identified again and again as a bird or creature of nature, was Clearly inspired to some extent by the swan maiden and her domestic tribulationsi Instead of donning feathers (as swan maidens do), Nora rediscovers a diaphanous dancing dress and, after executing the tarantella, takes leave of Towaldt The symbolic nexus connecting animal skins, costumes, and dancing is so prominent in this tale type that it points to a possible underlying link with the Cinderella, Donkeyskin, and Catskin stories. Barbara Fass Leavy has argued that tales of swan maidens must once have been far more widespread than they are today She theorizes that the tales could be found “in virtually every comer of the world," be- cause in most cultures “woman was a symbolic outsider, was the other, and marriage demanded an intimate involvement in a world never quite her own." Yet Leavy is also well aware that some female animal biides lure their mortal husbands into a heimetic world at timeless beauty, a world in which the husbands revel in pleasure yet never feel 4. 3mm Fasx Leavy, In Search o/lhe Swan Maiden- A Narrative on Folklore and Gender (New York: New Ymk UP, 1994) 2 32 BEAUTY AND THE BEAsr completely at home Like Tannhauser, who becomes Venus's captive, Urashima, a Japanese fisherman, and his many folkloric brothers dwell in a realm where they'are the outsiders, Their stories reveal that the gender roles in “Beauty and the Beast" and other tale types are not as fixed as we are accustomed to believe A look at the many extant vari- ants of “The Search for the Lost Husband” can unsettle our expecta- tions and show the extent to which fairy tales take us into regions that require constant reorientation JEANNE-MARIE LEPRINCE DE BEAUMONT Beauty and the Beastt Once upon a time there was a very wealthy merchant Who lived with his six children, three boys and three girls. Since he was a man of intelligence and good sense, he spared no expense in educating his children and hiring all kinds of tutors for them. His daughters were all very beautiful, but the youngest was admired by everyone. When she was little, people used to refer to her as “the beautiful child," The name “Beauty" stuck, and, as a result, her two sisters were always very jealous. The youngest daughter was not only more beautiful than her sisters, she was also better behaved. The two older sisters were vain and proud because the family had money. They tried to act like ladies of the court and paid no attention at all to girls from merchant families. They chose to spend time only with people of rank Every day they went to balls, to the theater, to the park, and they made fun of their younger sister, who spent most of her time reading good books. Since the girls were known to be very wealthy, many prominent merchants were interested in marrying them. But the two older sisters always insisted that they would never marry unless they found a duke or, at the very least, a count. Beauty (as I noted, this was the name of the youngest daughter) very politely thanked all those who proposed to her, but she told them that she was still too young for marriage and that she planned to keep her father company for some years to come, Out of the blue, the merchant lost his fortune, and he had nothing left but a small country house quite far from town, With tears in his eyes, he told his children that they would have to live in that house from now on and that, by working there like peasants, they could man- age to make ends meet. The two elder daughters said that they did not want to leave town and that they had many admirers who would be more than happy to marry them, even though they were no longer 0 Ieanne—Marie Leprince de Beaumont, “La Belle et la Bag" in u Magaxin dz: Enimm (London: therkorn. 1756). Translated {or this Norton Critical Edition by Maria Tam. cm right o 1999 by Maria Tam. DE BEAUMONT / BEAUTY AND THE BEAST 33 wealthy. But the fine young ladies were wrong, Their admirers had lost all interest in them now that they were poor. And since they were disliked because of their pride, people said: “Those two girls don't de- serve our sympathy. It’s quite satisfying to see pride take a fall. Let them play the ladies while tending their sheep." At the same time, people were saying: “As for Beauty, we are very upset by her misfortune, She's such a good girl! She speaks so kindly to the poor, She is so sweet and sincere" There were a number of gentlemen who would have been happy to marry Beauty, even though she didn't have a penny. She told them that she could not bring herself to abandon her poor father in his distress and that she would go with him to the country in order to comfort him and help him with his work Poor Beauty had been upset at first by the loss of the family fortune, but she said to herself: “No matter how much I cry, my tears won‘t bring our fortune back. I must try to be happy without it.” When they arrived at the country house, the merchant and his three sons began working the land. Beauty got up every day at four in the morning and started cleaning the house and preparing breakfast for the family. It was hard for her at first, because she was not used to working like a servant. At the end of two months, however, she became stronger, and the hard work made her very healthy. After finishing her house- work, she read or sang while spinning. Her two sisters, by contrast, were bored to death They got up at ten in the morning, took walks all day long, and talked endlessly about the beautiful clothes they used to weart “Look at our sister," they said to each other. “She is so stupid and such a simpleton that she is perfectly satisfied with her miserable lot." The good merchant did not agree with his daughters. He knew that Beauty could stand out in company in a way that her sisters could not. He admired the virtue of his daughter, above all her patience, The sisters not only made her do all the housework, they also insulted her whenever they could. The family had lived an entire year in seclusion when the merchant received a letter informing him that a ship containing his merchandise had just arrived safely in its home port The news made the two elder sisters giddy with excitement, for they thought they would finally be able to leave the countryside where they were so bored. When they saw that their father was ready to leave, they begged him to bring them dresses, furs, laces, and all kinds of baubles Beauty did not ask for anything, because she thought that all the money from the merchandise would not be enough to buy everything her sisters wantedi “Don’t you want me to buy anything for you?" asked her father. "You are so kind to think of me," Beauty answered. “Can you bring me a rose, for there are none here?" It was not that Beauty was anxious to have a rose, but she did not 34 Beam AND me Bus: want to set an example that would make her sisters look bad. Her sisters would have said that she was asking for nothing in order to make herself look good The good man left home, but when he arrived at the port he found that theie was a lawsuit ovei his meichandise After much txouble, he set off for home as impoverished as he had been on his departure. He had only thirty miles left to go and was already overjoyed at the prospect of seeing his children again when he had to cross a dense forest and got lost. There Was a fierce snowstorm, and the wind was so strong that it knocked him off his horse twice. When night tell, he was sure that he was going to die of hunger or of the cold or that he would be eaten by the wolves that he could hear howling all around. All of a sudden he saw a bright light at the end of a long avenue of trees The bright light seemed very far away. He walked in its direction and realized that it was coming from an immense castle that was completely lit up. The merchant thanked God for sending help, and he hurried toward the castle, He was surprised that no one was in the courtyard His horse went inside a large, open stable, where he found some hay and cats The poor animal, near death from hunger, began eating voraciously. The merchant tied the horse up in the stable and walked toward the house, where not a soul was in sight, Once he entered the great hall, however, he found a warm fire and a table laden with food, with just a single place settingi Since the rain and snow had soaked him to the bone, he went over to the fire to get dry. He thought to himself: “The master of the house, or his servants, will not be offended by the liberties I am taking. No doubt someone will be back soon." He waited a long time. Once the clock struck eleven and there was still no one in sight, he could not resist the pangs of hungei and, trembling with fear, he took a chicken and ate it all up in two big hites. He also drank several glasses of wine and, feeling more daring, he left the great hall and crossed many large, magnificently furnished apart— ments Finally he found a room with a good bedi Since it was past midnight and he was exhausted, he took it upon himself to close the door and go to bed. When he got up the next day, it was already ten in the momingi He was greatly surprised to find clean clothes in the place of the ones that had been completely ruined by the rain. “Surely," he thought to him- self, “this palace belongs to some good fairy who has taken pity on me" He looked out the window and saw that it was no longer snowing Before his eyes a magnificent vista of gardens and flowers unfolded. He ietumed to the great hall where he had dined the night before and found a small table with a cup of hot chocolate on it, ”Thank you, Madame Fairy," he said out loud, “for being so kind as to remember my breakfast," After finishing his hot chocolate, the good man left to go find his DE BEAUMONT / BEAUTY AND THE BEAST 35 horse Passing beneath a magnificent arbor of roses, he remembered that Beauty had asked him for a rose, and he plucked one from a branch with many flowers on it. At that very moment, he heard a loud noise and saw a beast coming toward himl It looked so dreadful that he almost fainted. ”You are very ungrateful," said the beast in a terrible voice “I have saved your life by sheltering you in my castle, and you repay me by stealing my roses, which I love more than anything in the world. You will have to pay for your offense. I'm going to give you exactly a quarter of an hour to beg God’s forgiveness." The merchant fell to his knees and, hands clasped, pleaded with the beast: “My Liege, pardon me. I did not think I would be otfending you by plucking a rose for my daughter, who asked me to bring her one or two." “I am not called ‘My Liege,’ " said the monster. “My name is Beast. I don't like flattery, and I prefer that people say what they think So don't try to move me with your compliments. But you said that you have some daughters‘ I am prepared to forgive you if one ofyour daughv ters consents to die in your place. Don't argue with me. lust gol Ifyour daughters refuse to die for you, swear that you will return in three days" The good man was not about to sacrifice one of his daughters to this hideous monster, but he thought: “At least I will have the pleasure of embracing them one last time." He swore that he would return, and Beast told him that he could leave whenever he wished ”But I don't want you to leave empty- handed," he added “Return to the room in which you slept. There you will find a large empty chest. You can fill it up with whatever you like, and I will have it delivered to your door." The beast withdrew, and the good man thought to himself: “IfI must die, I will at least have the consolation of leaving something for my poor children to live on." The merchant retumed to the room where he had slept He filled the great chest that Beast had described with the many gold pieces he found there. After he found his horse in the stable, he left the palace with a sadness equal to the joy he had felt on entering it His horse instinctively took one of the forest paths, and in just a few hours, the good man arrived at his little house. His children gathered around him, but instead of responding to their caresses, the merchant burst into tears as he gazed on them‘ In his hand, he was holding the branch of roses he had brought for Beauty. He gave it to her and said: “Beauty, take diese roses. They have cost your poor father dearly." Then the merchant told his family about the woeful events that had befallen him‘ Upon hearing the tale, the two sisters uttered loud cries and said derogatory things to Beauty, who was not crying: “See what the pride of this little creature has brought down on us!" they said‘ 36 BEAUTY AND THE BEAST . “Why didn't she ask for fine clothes the way we did No, she wanted to get all the attention She’s responsible for Father's death, and she’s not even shedding a tear!" “That would be quite pointless," Beauty repliedi “Why should lshed tears about Fathet when he is not going to diet Since the monster is willing to accept one of his daughters, I am prepared to risk all his fury. I feel fortunate to be able to sacrifice myself for him, since I will have the pleasure of saving my father and proving my feelings of tenderness for himi" “No, sister,” said het three btotherst ”You won’t die We will find this monster, and we are ptepared to die under his blows if we are unable to slay him." “Don't count on that, children," said the merchant, “The beast’s power is so great that I don't have the Ieast hope of killing him. I am moved by the goodness of Beauty's heart, but I refuse to risk her life. I‘m old and don’t have many years left, I will only lose a few years of my life, and I don't regret losing them for your sake, my dear children" “Rest assured, Father," said Beauty, “that you will not go to that palace without me. You can't keep me from following you. I may be young, but I am not all that attached to life, and I would tather be devoured by that monster than die of the grief which your loss would cause me." It was no use arguing with Beauty. She was detetmined to go to the palace. Her sisters were delighted, for the virtues of theit younger sistet had filled them with a good deal of envy. The merchant was so pre- occupied by the sad ptospect of losing his daughter that he forgot about the chest he had filled with gold, But as soon as he repaired to his mom to get some sleep, he was astonished to find it beside his bed He decided not to tell his children that he had become rich, for his daugh- ters would then want to return to town, and he was determined to die in the country, He did confide his secret to Beauty, who told him that several gentlemen had come during his absence and that two of them wanted to many het sisters Beauty begged her father to let them marry. She was so kind that she still loved her sisters with all her heart and forgave them the evil they had done her. When Beauty left with her father, the two mean sisters rubbed their eyes with an onion in order to draw tears. But the brothers cried real tears, as did the merchant. Only Beauty did not cry at all, because she did not want to make everyone even more sad. The horse took the road to the palace, and, when night fell, they could see that it was all lit up. The horse went by itself to the stable, and the good man went with his daughtet into the hall, where there was a magnificently set table with two place settings, The merchant did not have the stomach to eat, but Beauty, forcing herself to appear calm, sat down and served her father. “You see, Father," she said while forc- DE BEAUMONT / BEAUTY AND THE BEAST 37 ing a laugh, “the beast wants to fatten me up before eating me, since he paid so dearly for me.” After they had dined, they heard a loud noise, and the merchant tearfully bid adieu to his poor daughter, for he knew it was the beast. Beauty could not help but tremble at the sight of this horrible figure, but she tried as hard as she could to stay calm. The monster asked her if she had come of her own free will and, trembling, she replied that she had “You are very kind," said Beast, "and I am very grateful to you. As for you, my good man, get out of here by tomorrow morning and don't think of coming back here ever again. Goodbye, Beautyl" “Goodbye, Beast," she replied Suddenly the monster vanished. “Oh my daughter!" cried the merchant, embracing Beauty ”1 am half dead with fears Believe me, you have to let me stay," he said. ”No, Father," Beauty said firmly. “You must go tomorrow morning and leave me to the mercy of heaven Heaven may still take pity on me,” They both went to bed thinking that they would not be able to sleep all night long, but they had hardly gotten into their beds when their eyes closed, While she was sleeping, Beauty saw a woman who said to her: “I am pleased with your kind heart, Beauty The good deed you have done in saving your father’s life will not go unrewarded." Upon waking, Beauty recounted this dream to her father. While it comforted him a little, it did not keep him from crying out loud when he had to leave his dear daughters After he had left, Beauty sat down in the great hall and began to cry as well. But since she was courageous, she put herself in God’s hands and resolved not to bemoan her fate during the short time she had left to live. Convinced that Beast planned to eat her that very evening, she decided to walk around the grounds and to explore the castle while awaiting her fate. She could not help but admire the castle’s beauty, and she was very surprised to find a door upon which was written: “Beauty’s Rooms" She opened the door hastily and was dazzled by the radiant beauty of that room She was especially impressed by a huge bookcase, a harpsichord, and various music books. “Someone does not want me to get bored!" she said softly. Then she realized: “lfl had only one hour to live here, no one would have made such a fuss about the room." This thought lifted her spirits, She opened the bookcase and saw a book, on the cover of which was written in gold letters: “Your wish is our command. Here you are queen and mistress." “Alas," she sighed, "I only wish to see my poor father again and to know what he's doing now" She had said this to herself, so you can imagine how surprised she was when she looked in a large mirror and saw her father arriving at his house with a dejected expression. Her sisters went out to meet him, 38 BEAUTY AND THE Sam and, despite the faces they made in order to look as if they were dis~ hessed, they were visibly happy to have lost their sister. A moment later, everything in the mirror vanished. Beauty could not help thinking that Beast was most obliging and that she had nothing to fear from him. At noon, Beauty found the table set and, during her meal, she heard an excellent concert, even though she could not see a soul That eve: ning, as she was about to sit down at the table, she heard Beast making noises, and she could not help but tremble. “Beauty," said the monster, “will you let me watch you dine?" “You are my master," said Beauty, trembling. ”No, you are the only mistress here," replied Beast “If I bother you, order me to go, and I will leave at once. Tell me, don’t you find me very ugly?” “Yes, I do," said Beauty. “1 don’t know how to lie. But I do think that you are very kind," "You are right," said the monsterr “But in addition to being ugly, I also lack intelligence. I know very well that I am nothing but a beast." “You can’t be a beast," replied Beauty, “if you know that you lack intelligence A fool never knows that he is stupid." “Go ahead and eat, Beauty,” said the monster, ”and try not to be bored in your house, for everything here is yours, and 1 would be upset if you were not happy" “You are very kind," said Beautyi "I swear to you that I am com- pletely pleased with your good heart When I think of it, you no longer seem ugly to me." "Ch, of course," Beast replied, “I have a kind heart, but I am still a monster." "There are certainly men more monstrous than you," said Beauty. “I like you better, even with your looks, than men who hide false, corrupt, and ungrateful hearts behind charming manners." “If I were intelligent," said Beast, “I would pay you a great compli» ment to thank you But I am so stupid that all I can say is that I am very much obliged" Beauty ate with a good appetite She no longer dreaded the monster, but she thought that she would die of fright when he said: “Beauty, would you be my wife?” It took her a moment to get to the point of answering. She was afraid to provoke the monster by refusing him. Trembling, she said to him: “No, Beast" At that moment, the poor monster meant to sigh deeply, but he made such a frightful whistling sound that it echoed throughout the palace. Beauty felt better soon, however, because Beast, turning to look at her from time to time, left the room and said adieu in a sad voice. Finding herself alone, Beauty felt great compassion for poor Beast "Alas,” she said, “it is too bad he is so ugly, for he is so kind” DE BEAUMONT / BEAUTY AND THE BEAST 39 Beauty spent three peacefuI months at the castle Every evening, Beast paid her a visit and, while she was eating, entertained her with good plain talk, though not with what the world would call wit, Each day Beauty discovered new good qualities in the monster, Once she began seeing him every day, she became accustomed to his ugliness, and, far from fearing his arrival, she often looked at her watch to see if it was nine o‘clock yet. Beast never failed to appear at that hour. There was only one thing that still bothered Beauty. The monster, before leaving, always asked her if she wanted to be his wife, and he seemed deeply wounded when she refused One day she said to him: “You are making me feel upset, Beast I would like to be able to marry you, but I am far too candid to allow you to believe that that could ever happen. I will always be your friend. Try to be satisfied with that." “I will have to," Beast replied, “I don't flatter myself, and I know that I’m horrible looking, but I love you very much However, I am very happy that you want to stay here, Promise me that you will never leave," Beauty blushed at these words. She had seen in her mirror that her father was sick at heart at having lost her. She had been hoping to see him again. “I can promise you that I will never leave you," she said to Beast. “But right now I am so longing to see my father again that I would die of grief if you were to deny me this wish." “I would rather die myself than cause you pain,” said Beast “I will send you back to your father. Stay there, and your poor beast will die of grief," ”No," Beauty said, bursting into tears, “I love you too much to be the cause of your death. I promise to retum in a week. You have let me see that my sisters are married and that my brothers have left to serve in the army Father is living all alone. Let me stay with him for just a week.” “You will be there tomorrow morning," said Beast “But don’t forget your promise. All you have to do is put your ring on the table before going to sleep when you want to return. Goodbye, Beauty" As was his habit, Beast sighed deeply after speaking, and Beauty went to bed feeling very sad to see him so dejected. The next morning, on waking up, she was in her father's house She pulled a cord at the side of her bed and a bell summoned a servant, who uttered a loud cry upon seeing her. The good man of the house came running when he heard the cry, and he almost died of joy when he saw his beloved daughteri They held each other tight for over a quarter of an houri After the first excitement subsided, Beauty realized that she didn't have any clothes to go out in. But the servant told her that she had just discovered in the room next door a huge trunk full of silk dresses em- broidered with gold and encrusted with diamonds. Beauty thanked Beast for his thoughtfulnessi She took the least ornate of the dresses 40 BEAUTY AND THE Bms'r and told the servant to lock up the others, for she wanted to make a present of them to her sisters. Hardly had she spoken these words when the chest disappeared. When her father told her that Beast wanted her to keep everything for herself, the dresses and the chest reappeared on the spot While Beauty was getting dressed, her two sisters leamed about her arrival and rushed to the scene with their husbands Both sisters were very unhappy The older one had married a remarkably handsome gen- tleman, but he was so enamored of his own looks that he spent all day in front of the mirror. The other one had married a man of great wit, but he used it to infuriate everybody, first and foremost his wife Beau- ty’s sisters were so mortified that they felt ready to die when they saw her dressed like a princess and more beautiful than the bright day, Beauty tried in vain to shower them with attention, but nothing could restrain their jealousy, which only increased when Beauty told them how happy she was. These two envious women walked down to the garden so that they could weep freely. They both asked themselves: “Why should this little beast enjoy more happiness than we do? Aren't we more likable than she is?" “Dearest sister,” the older one said, “I have an idea. Let's try to keep Beauty here for more than a week Her stupid beast will get angry when he sees that she has broken her promise, and maybe he'll eat her up." “You're right," the other one replied, “To make that work, we will have to shower her with affection and act as if we are delighted to have her here." Having made this decision, the two nasty creatures retumed to Beau- ty’s room and showed her so much affection that she nearly wept for joy. When the week had gone by, the two sisters started tearing out their hair and performed so well that Beauty promised to stay another four or five days, At the same time she felt guilty about the grief she was causing poor Beast, whom she loved with all her heart and missed seeing. On the tenth night she spent at her father's house, she dreamed that she was in a garden of the palace when she saw Beast lying in the grass, nearly dead and reproaching her for her ingratitude. Beauty woke up with a start and began crying. “Aren’t I terrible," she said, “for causing grief to someone who has done so much to please me? Is it his fault that he's ugly and lacks intelligence? He is kind. That’s worth more than anything else. Why haven’t I wanted to marry him? I would be more happy with him flian my sisters are with their husbands. It is neither good looks nor great wit that makes a woman happy wifli her husband, but character, virtue, and kindness, and Beast has all those good qualities. I may not be in love with him, but I feel respect, friend- ship, and gratitude toward himi If I made him unhappy, my lack of appreciation would make me feel guilty for the rest of my life." With these words, Beauty got up, wrote a few lines to her father to DE BEAUMONT / BEAUTY AND THE BEAST 41 explain why she was leaving, put her ring on the table, and went back to bed. She had hardly gotten into bed when she fell sound asleep. And when she awoke in the morning, she was ovetioyed to find herself in Beast‘s palace, She dressed up in magnificent clothes iust to make him happy and spent the day feeling bored to death while waiting for the clock to strike ninei But the clock struck nine in vain. Beast was nowhere in sight. Beauty feared that she might be responsible for his death. She ran into every room of the castle, crying out loud. She was in a state of despair, After having searched everywhere, she remembered her dream and ran into the garden, toward the canal where she had seen Beast in her sleep She found poor Beast stretched out unconscious, and she was sure that he was dead. Feeling no revulsion at his looks, she threw herself on him and, realizing that his heart was still beating, she got some water from the canal and threw it on him. Beast opened his eyes and told Beauty: “You forgot your promise The thought of having lost you made me decide to starve myself, But now 1 will die happy, for I have the pleasure of seeing you one mote time" “No, my deat Beast, you will not die," said Beautyt "You will live and become my husband me this moment on, I give you my hand in marriage, and I swear that I belong only to you. Alas, I thought that I felt only friendship for you, but the grief I am feeling makes me realize that I can’t live without you." Scarcely had Beauty uttered these words when the castle became radiant with light. Fireworks and music alike signaled a celebration. But these attractions did not engage her attention for long She turned back to look at her dear beast, whose perilous condition made her tremble with fear. How great was her surprise when she discovered that Beast had disappeared and that a young prince more beautiful than the day was bright was lying at her feet, thanking heI for having broken a magic spelli Even though she was worried about the prince, she could not keep herself from asking about Beast. "You see him at your feet,” the prince said, “An evil fairy condemned me to remain in that form until a beautiful girl would consent to marry me. She barred me from revealing my intelligence, You were the only person in the world kind enough to he touched by the goodness of my chatactei. Even by offer— ing you a crown, I still can’t fully discharge the obligation I feel to you, Pleasantly surprised, Beauty offered her hand to the handsome prince to help him get up Together, they went to the castle, and Beauty neatly swooned with icy when she found her father and the entire family in the large hall. The beautiful lady who had appeared to her in a dream had transported them to the castle. “Beauty," said the lady, who was a gmnd fairy, “come and receive the reward for your wise choice You preferred virtue to looks and 42 BEAUTY AND THE BEAsr intelligence, and so you deserve to see those qualities united in a single person. You will become a noble queen, and I hope that sitting on a throne will not destroy your many virtues, As for you, my dear ladies," the fairy continued, speaking to Beauty’s two sisters, “1 know your hearts and all the malice that is in them. You will he turned into two statues, but you will keep your senses beneath the stone that envelops you. You will be transported to the door of your sister's palace, and I can think of no better punishment than being a witness to her happiness. You will not return to your former state until you recognize your faults. I fear that you may remain statues forever. You can correct pride, anger, gluttony, and laziness But a miracle is needed to convert a heart filled with malice and envy" The fairy waved her wand, and everyone there was transported to the great hall of the prince’s realm, where the subjects were overjoyed to see him. The prince married Beauty, who lived with him for a long time in perfect happiness, for their marriage was founded on virtue, GIOVANNI FRANCESCO STRAPAROLA The Pig King? Fair ladies,‘ if man were to spend a thousand years in rendering thanks to his Creator for having made him in the form of a human and not of a brute beast, he could not speak gratitude enough. This reflection calls to mind the story of one who was born as a pig, but afterwards became a comely youths Nevertheless, to his dying day he was known to the people over whom he ruled as King Pigs You must know, dear ladies, that Caleotto, King of Anglia, was a man highly blessed in worldly riches, and in his wife Ersilia, the daugh- ter of Matthias, King of Hungary, a princess who, in virtue and beauty, outshone all the other ladies of the time, And Galeotto was a wise king, ruling his land so that no man could hear complaint against himr Though they had been married several years they had no child, where~ fore they both were much aggrieved. While Ersilia was walking one day in her garden she felt suddenly weary, and catching sight of a spot covered with fresh green turf, she went up to it and sat down, and, overcome with weariness and soothed by the sweet singing of the birds in the green foliage, she fell asleep And it chanced that while she slept there passed by three fairies who held mankind somewhat in seom, and these, when they beheld the r Gimnni Francesco Straparola, "The Pig King,” in The Facefiou: Nights ofStmpamIa, Irins. w. 0. Waters (imam: Society ofBiblio hiles, 1391). l. The tales in Strapamla's collection are toljd by a circle of ladies living in exile in Mumno to pass the time during me nighu of the Venetian carnival. Summon / THE PIG Km; 43 sleeping queen, halted, and gazing upon her beauty, took counsel to- gether how they might protect her and throw a spell upon her, When they were agreed the first cried out, ‘I will that no man shall be able to harm her, and that, the next time she lie with her husband, she may be with child and bear a son who shall not have his equal in all the world for beauty} Then the second said, ‘I will that no one shall ever have power to offend her, and that the prince who shall be born of her shall be gifted with every virtue under the sun.’ And the third said, ‘And I will that she shall be the wisest among women, but that the son whom she shall conceive shall be born in the skin of a pig, with 3 pigs ways and manners, and in this state he shall be constrained to abide till he shall have three times when a woman to wife.’ As soon as the three fairies had flown away Ersilia awoke, and straightway arose and went back to the palace, taking with her the flowers she had pluckedt Not many days had passed before she knew herself to be with child, and when the time of her delivery was come, she gave birth to a son with members like those of a pig and not of a human being, When tidings of this prodigy came to the ears of the king and queen they were greatly aggrieved, and the king, bearing in mind how good and wise his queen was, often felt moved to put this offspring of hers to death and cast it into the sea, in order that she might be spared the shame of having given birth to him. But when he debated in his mind and considered that this son, let him be what he might, was of his own begetting, he put aside the cruel purpose which he had been harbouring, and, seized with pity and grief, he made up his mind that the son should be brought up and nurtured like a rational being and not as a brute beast. The child, therefore, being nursed with the greatest care, would often be brought to the queen and put his little snout and his little paws in his mother's lap, and she, moved by natural affection, would caress him by stroking his bristJy back with her hand, and embracing and kissing him as if he had been of human form, Then he would wag his tail and give other signs to show that he was conscious of his mothefs affection. The pigling, when he grew older, began to talk like a human being, and to wander abroad in the city, but whenever he came near to any mud or dirt he would always wallow therein, after the manner of pigs, and return all covered with filth. Then, when he approached the king and queen, he would rub his sides against their fair garments, defiling them with all manner of dirt, but because he was indeed their own son they bore it all. One day he came home covered with mud and filth, as was his wont, and lay down on his mother’s rich robe, and said in a grunting tone, ‘Mother, I wish to get married’ When the queen heard this, she replied, 'Do not talk so foolishly What maid would ever take you for a husband, and do you think that any noble or knight would give his daughter to 44 BEAUTY AND THE BEAST one so dirty and ill—savoured as you?’ But he kept on grunting that he must have a wife of one sort or another. The queen, not knowing how to manage him in this matter, asked the king what they should do in their trouble: ‘Our son wishes to many, but where shall we find anyone who will take him as a husband?‘ Every day the pig would come back to his mother with the same demand: ‘I must have a wife, and I will never leave you in peace until you procure for me a certain maiden I have seen to—day, who pleases me greatlyi' It happened that this maiden was a daughter of a poor woman who had thtee daughters, each one of them being very lovely When the queen heard this, she had blought before her the poor woman and he! eldest daughter, and said, ‘Cood mother, you are poor and burdened with children, If you will agree to what I shall say to you, you will be rich I have this son who is, as you see, in form a pig, and I would like to marry him to your eldest daughtet. Do not considei him, but think of the king and of me, and remember that your daughter will inherit this whole kingdom when the king and I shall be dead,’ When the young girl listened to the words of the queen she was greatly disturbed in her mind and blushed red for shame, and then said that on no account would she listen to the queen's proposition; but the poor mothet pleaded so urgently with her that at last she yielded. When the pig came home one day, all covered with dirt as usual, his mother said to him, ‘My son, we have found for you the wife you desire.’ And then she had the bride brought in, who by this time had been robed in sumptuous regal attire, and presented her to the pig prince. When he saw how lovely and desirable she was he was filled with joy, and, all foul and dirty as he was, iumped round about her, endeavouring by his pawing and nuzzling to show some sign of his afiection, But she, when she found he was soiling her beautiful dress, thrust him aside; whereupon the pig said to her, ‘Why do you push me thus? Have I not had these garments made for you myself?’ Then she answered disdain- fully, ‘No, neither you nor any other of the whole kingdom of hogs has done this thing.Y And when it was time to go to bed, the young gitl said to herself, ‘What am I to do with this foul beast? This very night, while he lies asleep, I will kill him.' The pig prince, who was not far off, heard these words, but said nothing, and when the two retired to their chamber he got into the bed, stinking and dirty as he was, and defiled the sumptuous bed with his filthy paws and snout He lay down by his spouse, who was not long in falling asleep, and then he struck her with his sharp heels and drove them into her breast so that he killed her. The next morning the queen went to visit her daughter—in-law, and to her great grief found that the pig had killed her; and when he came back from wandering about the city he said, in reply to the queen’s bitter reproaches, that he had only dealt with his wife as she intended to deal with him, and then withdrew in an ill humour. Not many days STMPAROLA / THE Pic KING 45 had passed before the pig prince again began to plead with the queen to allow him to marry one of the other sisters, and when the queen at first would not listen to his petition he persisted in his purpose, and thteatened to ruin everything in the place if he could not have her as wife. The queen, when she heard this, went to the king and told him everything, and he answered that perhaps it would be wiser to kill their ill-fated offspring before he might work some fatal mischief in the city. But the queen felt all the tenderness of a mothel towards him, and loved him very dearly in spite of his brutal person, and could not en- dure the thought of being parted from him; so she summoned once more to the palace the poor woman, together with her second daughter, and held a long discourse with her, begging her the while to give her daughter in marriage. At last the girl assented to take the pig prince for a husband; but her fate was no happier than her sister’s, for the bride— groom killed her, as he had killed his other bride, and then fled head— long from the palace When he came back, dirty as usual and smelling so foully that no one could approach him, the king and queen censured him gravely for the outrage he had committed; but again he cried out boldly that if he had not killed her she would have killed him. As it had happened before, the pig in a very short time began to plead with his mother again to let him marry the youngest sister, who was much more beau- tiful than either of the others; and when this request of his was refused, he became more insistent than ever, and in the end began to threaten the queen’s life in violent and bloodthirsty words, unless he should have given to him the young girl for his wife, The queen, when she heard this shameful and unnatural speech, was well-nigh broken-hearted and about to go out of her mind; but, putting all othet considerations aside, she called for the poor woman and her third daughter, who was named Meldina, and thus addressed her: ‘Meldina, my child, I should be greatly pleased if you would take the pig prince for a husband; pay no regard to him, but to his father and to me; then, if you will be prudent and bear patiently with him, you may be the happiest woman in the world} To this speech Meldina answered, with a grateful smile upon he! face, that she was quite content to do as the queen asked her, and thanked her humbly for deigning to choose her as a daughter-in-law; for, seeing that she herself had nothing in the world, it was indeed gteat good fortune that she, a poor girl, should become the daughter—in-law of a potent sovereign. The queen, when she heard this modest and amiable reply, could not keep back her tears for the happiness she felt; but she feared all the time that the same fate might be in store for Meldina as her sisters When the new bride had been clothed in rich attire and decked with jewels, and was awaiting the bridegroom, the pig plince came in, filth- iei and more muddy than ever; but she spread out her rich gown and 46 BEAUTY AND THE BEAST besought him to lie down by heI side. Whereupon the queen told her to thrust him away, but to this she would not consent, and spoke thus to the queen: ‘There ale three wise sayings, gracious lady, which I remember having heard. The first is that it is folly to waste time in searching for that which cannot be found The second is that we should believe nothing we may hear, except those things which bear the marks of sense and reason The third is that, when once you have got posses- sion of some rare and precious heasure, prize it well and keep a firm hold upon it.‘ When the maiden had finished speaking, the pig prince, who had been wide awake and had heard all that she had said, got up, kissed her on the face and neck and bosom and shoulders with his tongue, and she was not backward in returning his caresses; so that he was fired with a warm love for het. As soon as the time for retiring for the night had come, the bride went to bed and awaited her unseemly spouse, and, as soon as he came, she raised the coveriet and bade him Iie near to her and put his head upon the pillow, covering him carefully with the bed-clothes and drawing the curtains so that he might feel no colds When morning came the pig got up and ranged abroad to pasture, as was his wont, and very soon after the queen went to the bride's cham- ber, expecting to find that she had met with the same fate as her sisters; but when she saw hex lying in the bed, aII defiled with mud as it was, and looking pleased and contented, she thanked God for this favour, that her son had at last found a spouse according to his likingi One day, soon after this, when the pig prince was conversing plea— santly with his wife, he said to her: 'MeIdina, my beloved wife, if I could be fully sure that you could keep a secret, I would now tell you one of mine; something I have kept hidden for many years. I know you to be very prudent and wise, and that you love me truly; so I wish to make you the Sharer of my secret} 'You may safely tell it to me, if you wiII,’ said Meidina, ‘for I pmmise never to reveal it to anyone without your consent.’ Whereupon, being new sure of his wife’s discretion and fidelity, he stIaightaway shook off from his body the foul and dirty skin of the pig, and stood revealed as a handsome and weII-shaped young man, and all that night rested closely folded in the arms of his beloved wife. But he charged her solemnly to keep silence about this wonder she had seen, for the time had not yet come for his complete delivery from this miseryi So when he left the bed he donned the dirty pig's hide once more. I leave you to imagine for yourselves how great was the joy of Meldina when she discovered that, instead of a pig, she had gained a handsome and gallant young prince for a husband. Not long after this she proved to be with child, and when the time other delivery came she gave birth to a fair and shapely boy, The joy of the king and queen was unbounded, especially when they found that the newborn child had the form of a human being and not that of a beast BROTHERS CRIMM / THE FROG KING 47 But the burden of the strange and weighty secret which her husband had confided to her pressed heavily upon Meldina, and one day she went to her mother-in-law and said: ‘Cracious queen, when first I mar» tied your son I believed I was married to a beast, but now I find that you have given me the comeliest, the worthiest, and the most gallant young man ever born into the world to be my husbands For know that when he comes into my chamber to lie by my side, he casts off his dirty hide and leaves it on the ground, and is changed into a graceful handsome youth. No one could believe this marvel unless they saw it with their own eyes.’ When the queen heard these words she was sure that her daughter-in-law must he jesting with her, but Meldina insisted that what she said was true. And when the queen demanded to know how she might witness with her own eyes the truth of this thing, Mel- dina replied: ‘Come to my chamber tonight, when we shall be in our first sleep; the door will be open, and you will find that what I tell you is the truth.’ That same night, when the time came, and all were gone to rest, the queen let some torches be kindled and went, accompanied by the king, to the chamber of her son, and when she had entered she saw the pig's skin lying on the floor in the corner of the room, and having gone to the bedside, found a handsome young man in whose arms Meldina was lying. And when they saw this, the delight of the king and queen was very great, and the king gave order that before anyone should leave the chamber the pig's hide should be torn to shreds, So great was their joy over the recovery of their son that they nearly died from it And King Caleotto, when he saw that he had so fine a son, and a grandchild as well, laid aside his diadem and his royal robes, and ad— vanced to his place his son, whom he let be crowned with the greatest pomp, and who was ever afterwards known as King Pig. Thus, to the great contentment of all the people, the young king began his reign, and he lived long and happily with Meldina his beloved wife. Kt! BROTHERS GRIMM The Frog King, or Iron Heinrichi In the olden days, when wishing could help you, there lived a king whose daughters were all beautiful, But the youngest was so beautiful that even the sun, which had seen so much, was filled with wonder e lamb and Wilhelm Grimm, “Der Froschlmnig oder der eiseme Heinrich," in Kinder» m Hammdrchen. 7:}. ed. (Berlin: Dieterieh, 1857; Em published: Berlin: Rulsehulhurhhand— lung, 1812). Translated for this Norton Critical Edition by Maria TM. Copyright 9 row by Maria Tatar, 48 BEAUTY AND THE BEAST when it shone upon her face There was a dark, vast forest near the king's castle, and in that forest, beneath an old linden tree, was a well When the weather was really hot, the king's daughter would go out into the woods and sit down at the edge of the cool fountain. And when she got bored, she would take out her golden ball, throw it up in the air, and catch it again. That was her favorite toy, One day it happened that the golden ball didn't land in the princess's hands when she reached up to catch it, but fell clown on the ground and rolled right into the water. The princess followed it with her eyes, but the ball had disappeared, and the fountain was so very deep that you couldn't see the bottoms She began to weep and wept louder and louder, unable to stop herself While she was wailing, a voice called out to her: “What’s going on, princess? Stones would be moved to pity if they could hear you." She turned around to see where the voice was coming from and saw a frog, which had stuck its big ugly head out of the water. “Oh, it's you, you old splasher," she said. “I'm crying because my golden ball has fallen into the well," “Be quiet and stop crying," said the frog. “I can help you, but what will you give me if I fetch your toy?" “Whatever you want, dear frog," she said, "My dresses, my pearls and jewels, even the golden crown I'm wearing." The frog said: “I don't want your dresses, your pearls and jewels, or your golden crowns But if you promise to Cherish me and let me be your companion and playmate, and let me sit beside you at the table and eat from your littIe golden plate, drink from your little cup, and sleep in your little bed, if you promise me that, I will crawl down into the well and bring back your golden halls" “Oh, yes," she said. “I’ll give you anything you want as long as you get my ball back." But to herself she thought: “What nonsense that stupid frog is talking! He's down there in the water creaking away with all the other frogs, How could anyone want him for a com- panion?" Once the frog had her word, he dove down into the water head first After a while he came paddling back up with the ball in his mouth and tossed it onto the grass. When the princess caught sight of her beautiful toy, she was overjoyedr She picked it up and ran off with it. “Wait for me," the frog cried out. “Take me with you, I can't run the way you dos" He croaked as loudly as he could after her, but it was no use. She paid no attention, sped home, and quickly forgot about the poor frog, who crawled back down into the well. The next day, after she had sat down for dinner with the king and all the other courtiers and was eating from her little golden plate, some- thing came crawling up the marble staircase, splish, splash, splish, BROTHERS CRIMM / THE FROG KING 4‘? splashr When it reached the top of the stairs, it knocked at the door and called out: “Princess, youngest princess, let me in!" She ran to the door to see who it was, and when she opened the door, the frog was waiting right there. Terrified, she slammed the door as fast as she could and went back to the table. The king could see that her heart was pounding and said: “My child, why are you afraid? Was there a giant at the door coming to get you?" “Oh, no," she replied "It wasn't a giant, but it was a disgusting frog,” “What does a frog want from you?" “Oh, father dear, yesterday when I was playing at the well, my golden hall fell into the water‘ And because I was crying so hard, the frog fetched it for me, and because he insisted, I promised that he could be my companion I never thought that he would be able to leave the water. Now he’s outside and wants to come in to see me." Just then there was a second knock at the door, and a voice called out: Princess, youngest princess, Let me in. Did you forget Yesterday's promise Down by the chilly waters? Princess, youngest princess, Let me in. Then the king said: "When you make a promise, you must keep it, Iust go and let him in" She went and opened the door. The frog hopped into the room and followed Close on her heels until she reached her chair. Then he sat down and called out: “Lift me up beside you" She hesitated, but the king ordered her to obey. Once the frog was up on the chair, he wanted to get on the table, and once he was there he said: "Push your little golden plate closer to me so that we can eat togetherr” She did as he said, but it was obvious that she was not happy about it. The frog enjoyed his meal, but for her almost every little morsel stuck in her throat Finally he said: “I‘ve had enough to eat and am tired. Carry me up to your little room and prepare your little bed with the silken covers." The princess began to cry, and was afraid of the elammy frogt She didn't dare touch him, and now he was going to sleep in her beautiful, clean bed. The king grew angry and said: “You shouldn't scorn some- one who helped you when you were in trouble." The princess picked up the frog with two fingers, carried him up to her room, and put him in a corner. While she was lying in bed, he came crawling over and said: “I’m tired and want to sleep as much as you do. Lift me up or I'll tell your father," $0 BEAUTY AND THE BEAST Then she became really cross, picked him up, and threw him with all hei might against the wall. “Now you'll get your rest, you disgusting frog!" When he fell to the ground, he was no longer a flag but a prince with beautiful, beaming eyes. At her father's bidding, he became her dear companion and husband He told her that a wicked witch had cast a spell on him and that she alone could [elease him from the well. The next day they would set out together for his kingdom. They fell asleep, and, in the morning, after the sun had woken them, a coach drove up drawn by eight white horses in golden harnesses, with white ostxich plumes on their heads. At the back of the coach stood Faithful Heinrich, the servant of the young king, Faithful Heinrich had been so saddened by the transformation of his master into a frog that he had to have three hoops placed around his heart to keep it from bursting with pain and sorrow. Now the coach was there to take the young king back to his kingdom, and Faithful Heinrich lifted the two of them in and took his place in the back again He was overjoyed by the ham- formation When they had caveied some distance, the prince heard a stacking noise behind him, as if something had broken. He tumed around and called out: “Heinrich, the coach is falling apart!" “No, my lord, 'tis not the coach, But a hoop from round my heart, Which was in such Pain, While you weie down in the well, Living there as a frog." Two more times the pxince heaid the ciacking noise, and he was sure that the coach was falling apart. But it was only the sounds of the hoops breaking off from Faithful Heinrich‘s heart, for his master had been set free and was happy. ANGELA CARTER The Tiget’s Bridei My father lost me to The Beast at cards, There‘s a special madness strikes travellers from the North when they reach the lovely land where the lemon trees grow,1 We come from t me Angela Caner, "The TiEer's Bride," in The Bloody Chambn and Other Slams (New York: Penguin, 1993), Copyrig t© the Estate ofAngelz Carter I995. Reprinted by permission of the Estale afAngcla Caner c/o Regen, Coleridge 5: White Ltd., 20 Pawis Mews, London wu UN. 1. A reference to My, which was described in a poem by Johann Wnllgzng Von Goethe (1749— 1832) as the “land whewe the leman tree: blossom." CARTER / THE TIGER’s BRIDE 51 countries of cold weather; at home, we are at war with nature but here, ah! you think you’ve come to the blessed plot where the lion lies down with the lamb, Everything flowers; no harsh wind stirs the voluptuous airi The sun spills fruit for you. And the deathly, sensual lethargy of the sweet South infects the starved brain; it gasps: “Luxury! more lux- ury!" But then the snow comes, you cannot escape it, it followed us from Russia as if it ran behind our carriage, and in this dark, bitter city has caught up with us at last, flocking against the windowpanes to mock my father’s expectations of perpetual pleasure as the veins in his fore- head stand out and throb, his hands shake as he deals the Devil’s pic- ture books The candles dropped hot, acrid goub of wax on my bare shoulders. I watched with the furious cynicism peculiar to women whom Circum- stances force mutely to witness folly, while my father, fired in his des- peration by more and yet more draughts of the firewater they call “grappa,” rids himself of the last scraps of my inheritance. When we left Russia, we owned black earth, blue forest with bear and wild boar, seifs, comfields, farmyards, my beloved horses, white nights of cool summer, the fireworks of the northern lights. What a burden all those possessions must have been to him, because he laughs as if with glee as he beggars himself; he is in such a passion to donate all to The Beast, Everyone who comes to this city must play a hand with the grand seigneur;2 few come, They did not warn us at Milan, or, if they did, we did not understand them—my limping Italian, the bewildering dialect of the region. Indeed, I myself spoke up in favour of this remote, pro- vincial place, out of fashion two hundred years, because, oh irony, it boasted no casinoi I did not know that the price of a stay in its Decem- bral solitude was a game with Milordi The hour was late. The Chill damp of this place creeps into the stones, into your bones, into the spongy pith of the lungs; it insinuated itself with a shiver into our parlour, where Milord came to play in the privacy essential to him. Who could refuse the invitation his valet brought to our lodging? Not my profligate father, certainly; the mirror above the table gave me back his frenzy, my impassivity, the withering candles, the emptying bottles, the coloured tide of the cards as they rose and fell, the still mask that concealed all the features of The Beast but for the yellow eyes that strayed, now and then, from his unfurled hand towards mysel£ “La Bestia!” said our landlady, gingerly fingering an envelope with his huge crest of a tiger rampant on it, something of fear, something of wonder in her face And I could not ask her why they called the master of the place, “La Bestia"—was it to do with that heraldic 2. French term for the lord of the manor or. in this case, the most powerful figure in the city 52 BEAUTY AND THE BEAST signature?——hecause her tongue was so thickened hy the phlegmy, bron- chitic speech of the region I scarcely managed to make out a thing she said except, when she saw me: “Che bella!”3 Since 1 could toddle, always the pretty one, with my glossy, nut~ brown curls, my rosy cheeks, And born on Christina: Day—her “Christ- mas rose," my English nurse Called me. The peasants said: “The living image of her mother," crossing themselves out of respect for the dead, My mother did not blossom long; bartered for her dowry to such a feckless sprig of the Russian nobility that she soon died of his gaming, his whoring, his agonizing repentances, And The Beast gave me the rose from his own impeccable if outmoded buttonhole when he arrived, the valet brushing the snow off his black cloak This white rose, un~ natural, out of season, that now my nervous fingers ripped, petal by petal, apart as my father magnificently concluded the career he had made of catastrophe. This is a melancholy, introspective region; a sunless, featureless land» scape, the sullen river sweating fog, the shorn, hunkering willows. And a cruel city; the sombre piazza, a place uniquely suited to public exe- cutions, under the beetling shadow of that malign barn of a church. They used to hang condemned men in cages from the City walls; un- kindness comes naturally to them, their eyes are set too close together, they have thin lips. Poor food, pasta soaked in oil, boiled beef with sauce of bitter herbs. A funereal hush about the place, the inhabitants huddled up against the cold so you can hardly see their fices. And they lie to you and cheat you, innkeepers, coachmen, everybody, God, how they Heeced us! The treacherous South, where you think there is no winter but forget you take it with your My senses were increasingly troubled by the hiddling perfume of Milord, far too potent a reek of purplish civet at such Close quarters in so small a roomi He must bathe himself in scent, soak his shirts and underlinen in it; what can he smell of, that needs so much camouflage? I never saw a man so big look so two—dimensional, in spite of the quaint elegance of The Beast, in the old-fashioned tailcoat that might, from its looks, have been bought in those distant years before he im- posed seclusion on himself; he does not feel he need keep up with the times. There is a crude elumsiness about his outlines, that are on the ungainly, giant side; and he has an odd air of self-imposed restraint, as if fighting a battle with himself to remain upright when he would far rather drop down on all fours, He throws our human aspirations to the godlike sadly awry, poor fellow; only from a distance would you think The Beast not much different from any other man, although he wears a mask with a man's face painted most beautifully on it, Oh, yes, a 3. "What a beauty she is!" (Italian). CARTER / THE TIGER'S BRIDE 53 beautiful face; but one with too much fotmal symmetry of feature to be entiiely human: one profile of his mask is the mirror image of the other, too perfect, uncanny. He weais a wig, too, false hair tied at the nape with a how, a wig of the kind you see in oldvfashioned portraits A chaste silk stock stuck with a peatl hides his throat. And gloves of blond kid that are yet so huge and clumsy they do not seem to cover hands He is a eamival figure made of papier maehé and eiépe haii; and yet he has the Devil's knack at caids. His masked voice echoes as from a great distance as he stoops over his hand and he has such a growling impediment in his speech that only his valet, who understands him, can interpret for him, as if his master were the clumsy doll and he the ventriloquist. The wick slumped in the eroded wax, the candles gutteted. By the time my rose had lost all its petals, my fathet, too, was left with nothing. “Except the girls" Gambling is a sickness, My father said he loved me yet he staked his daughter on a hand of cards He fanned them out; in the mirror, I saw wild hope light up his eyes. His collai was unfastened, his rumpled hait stood up on end, he had the anguish of a man in the last stages of debauchery The draught: came out of the old walls and hit me, I was colder than I'd ever been in Russia, when nighb are coldest there, A queen, a king, an ace. I saw them in the mirron Oh, I know he thought he could not lose me; besides, back with me would come all he had lost, the unravelled fortunes of our family at one blow restored. And would he not win, as well, The Beast’s hereditary palazzo outside the city; his immense revenues; his lands around the rivet; his rents, his treasure chest, his Mantegnas, his Giulio Romanos, his Cellini salt- cellars, his titles . i . the very city itself} You must not think my father valued me at less than a king’s ransom; but, at no more than a king's Iansomi It was cold as hell in the parlour. And it seemed to me, child of the seveie North, that it was not my flesh but, truly, my father's soul that was in peril. My father, of course, believed in miracles; what gambler does not? In pursuit of just such a miracle as this, had we not havelled from the land of bears and shooting stars? So we teetered on the brink The Beast bayed; laid down all three remaining aces. The indifferent servants now glided smoothly forward as on wheels to douse the candles one by one, To look at them you would think that nothing of any moment had occurred. They yawned a little Ie- sentfully; it was almost morning, we had kept them out of bed, The 4. Andie: Mantegna (1431—1505); 1mm. painter and en ver; Giulia Romano (1499—1546): Italian architect and painter; Benvenuto Cellinl (isomgria): Italian sculptor and metalsmith. CARTER ITHE TIGEn’s BRIDE 55 strange kind of unflattering ohsequiousness yet he forgot his station sufficiently to scratch busily beneath his white periwig with an over- supple index finger as he offered me what my old nurse would have called an “old—fashioned look," ironic, sly, a smidgen of disdain in it. And pityr7 No pity, His eyes were moist and brown, his face seamed with the innocent cunning of an ancient baby. He had an irritating habit of chattering to himself under his breath all the time as he packed up his master’s winnings. I drew the curtains to conceal the sight of my father’s farewell; my spite was sharp as broken glass Lost to The Beast! And what, I wondered, might be the exact nature of his “beastliness”? My English nurse once told me about a tiger~man she saw in London, when she was a little girl, to scare me into good behaviour, for I was a wild wee thing and she could not tame me into submission with a frown or the bribe of a spoonful of jam. If you don’t stop plaguing the nursemaids, my beauty, the tiger-man will come and mke you away They'd brought him from Sumatra, in the Indies, she said; his hinder parts were all hairy and only from the head downwards did he resemble a man. And yet The Beast goes always masked; it cannot be his face that looks like mine. But the tiger-man, in spite of his hairiness, could take a glass of ale in his hand like a good Christian and drink it down. Had she not seen him do so, at the sign of The George, by the steps of Upper Moor Fields when she was iust as high as me and lisped and toddled, too, Then she would sigh for London, across the North Sea of the lapse of years But, if this young lady was not a good little girl and did not eat her boiled beetroot, then the tiger-man would put on his big black havelling cloak lined with fur, just like your daddy’s, and hire the Erl- King’s gallopera of wind and ride through the night straight to the nursery and— Yes, my beauty! GOBBLE YOU UP! How I’d squeal in delighted terror, half believing her, half knowing that she teased me‘ And there were things I knew that I must not tell her. In our last farmyard, where the giggling nursemaids initiated me into the mysteries of what the bull did to the cows, I heard about the waggoner's daughter, Hush, hush, don't let on to your nursie we said so; the waggoner’s lass, hare-lipped, squint—eyed, ugly as sin, who would have taken her? Yet, to her shame, her belly swelled amid the cruel mockery of the ostlers“ and her son was born of a bear, they whispered Born with a full pelt and teeth; that proved it But, when he grew up, he was a good shepherd, although he never married, lived in a hut 3. Ah allusion to mother pm. by Goethe, "The Erl-ng," in which a father flies in vain Io rescue in: child ham the enchammehh of the title figure, 9. People who care for houses. especially at inns. 56 BEAUTY AND THE BEAST outside the village and could make the wind blow any way he wanted to besides being able to tell which eggs would become cocks, which hensi The wondering peasants once brought my father a skull with horns four inches long on either side of it and would not go back to the field where their poor plough disturbed it until the priest went with them; for this skull had the iaw-bone of a man, had it not? Old wives’ tales, nursery fears! I knew well enough the reason for the trepidation I (:05in titillated with superstitious marvels of my childhood on the day my childhood ended. For now my own skin was my sole capital in the world and today I’d make my first investment We had left the city far behind us and were now traversing a wide, fiat dish of snuw where the mutilated stumps of the willows flourished their ciliate heads athwart frozen ditches; mist diminished the horizon, brought down the sky until it seemed no more than a few inches above us. As far as eye could see, not one thing livingi How starveling, how bereft the dead season of this spurious Eden in which all the fruit was blighted by cold! And my frail roses, already faded. I opened the car- riage door and tossed the defunct bouquet into the rucked, frost—stiff mud of the road. Suddenly a sharp, freezing wind arose and pelted my face with a dry rice of powdered snow. The mist lifted sufficiently to reveal before me an acreage of half—derelict faeades of sheer red brick, the vast mammal), the megalomaniac Citadel of his palazzo, It was a world in itself but a dead one, a burned—out planet. I saw The Beast bought solitude, not luxury, with his money, The little black horse trotted smartly through the figured bronze doors that stood open to the weather like those of a barn and the valet handed me out of the carriage on to the scarred tiles of the great hall itself, into the odorous warmth of a stable, sweet with hay, acrid with horse dung, An equine choms of neighings and soft dmmmings of hooves broke out beneath the tall roof, where the beams were stabbed with last summer's swallows’ nests; a dozen gracile muzzles lifted from their mangers and turned towards us, ears erect. The Beast had given his horses the use of the dining room. The walls were painted, aptly enough, with a fresco of horses, dogs and men in a wood where fruit and blossom grew on the bough togethen The valet tweaked politely at my sleeve. Milord is waiting, Gaping doors and broken windows let the wind in everywhere. We mounted one staircase after another, our feet clopping on the marble, Through archways and open doors, I glimpsed suites of vaulted cham- bers opening one out of another like systems of Chinese boxes into the infinite complexity of the innards of the place. He and I and the wind were the only things stirring; and all the fumiture was under dust sheets, the chandeliers bundled up in cloth, pictures taken from their hooks and propped with their faces to the walls as if their master could not CARTER / THE Ticen’s BRIDE S7 bear to look at them. The palace was dismantled, as if its owner were about to move house or had never properly moved in; The Beast had chosen to live in an uninhabited place. The valet darted me a reassuring glance from his brown, eloquent eyes, yet a glance with so much queer superciliousness in it that it did not comfort me, and went bounding ahead of me on his bandy legs, softly chattering to himself I held my head high and followed him; but, for all my pride, my heart was heavy. Milord has his eyrie high above the house, a small, stifling, darkened room; he keeps his shutters locked at noon, I was out of breath by the time we reached it and returned to him the silence with which he greeted me. I will not smile. He cannot smile. In his rarely disturbed privacy, The Beast wears a garment of Otto- man design, a loose, dull purple gown with gold embroidery round the neck that falls horn his shoulders to conceal his feet. The feet of the chair he sits in are handsomely clawed He hides his hands in his ample sleeves. The artificial masterpiece of his face appals me. A small file in a small grate, A rushing wind rattles the shutters. The valet coughedi To him fell the delicate task of transmitting to me his mastei's wishes. “My masteI—" A stick fell in the grate, It made a mighty clatter in that dreadful silence; the valet started; lost his place in his speech, began again, “My mastei has but one desire." The thick, rich, wild scent with which Milord had soaked himself the previous evening hangs all about us, ascends in cuisive blue from the smoke of a precious Chinese pot. “He wishes only—" Now, in the face of my impassivity, the valet twittered, his ironic composure gone, for the desire of a master, however trivial, may yet sound unbearably insolent in the mouth of a servant and his role of go—between clearly caused him a good deal of embarrassment I-Ie gulped; he swallowed, at last contrived to unleash an unpunctuated Hood. “My master's sole desire is to see the pretty young lady unclothed nude without hel diess and that only for the one time after which she will be returned to her father undamaged with bankersv ordeis for the sum which he lost to my master at cards and also a number of fine presents such as furs, jewels and horses—" I remained standing. During this interview, my eyes were level with those inside the mask that now evaded mine as if, to his credit, he was ashamed of his own request even as his mouthpiece made it for him, Agitato, motto agitato,‘ the valet wrung his white-gloved hands I. Agitated, very agitated (Italian). 58 BEAUTY AND THE BEAST “Desnuda—”2 I could scarcely believe my ears I let out a raucous gufiaw; no young lady laughs like that! my old nurse used to remonshate. But I did And do, At the clamour of my heartless mirth, the valet danced backwalds with perturbation, palpitating his fingers as if attempting to wrench them off, expostulating, wordlessly pleading. I felt that I owed it to him to make my reply in as exquisite a Tuscan as I could master. "You may put me in a windowless room, sit, and I promise you 1 will pull my skirt up to my waist, ready for you, But there must be a sheet over my face, to hide it; though the sheet must be laid over me so lightly that it will not choke me, So I shall he covered completely from the waist upwards, and no lights, There you can visit me once, sir, and only the once. After that I must be driven directly to the city and deposited in the public square, in front of the church. If you wish to give me money, then I should he pleased to receive it Butl must stress that you should give me only the same amount of money that you would give to any other woman in such circumstances. However, if you choose not to give me a present, then that is your light." How pleased I was to see I shuck The Beast to the heart! F01, after a baker’s dozen heartbeab, one single tear swelled, glitteling, at the comer of the masked eye, A teat! A tear, I hoped, of shame. The tear trembled for a moment on an edge of painted bone, men tumbled down the painted cheek to fall, with an abrupt tinkle, on the tiled floor, The valet, ticking and clucking to himself, hastily ushered me out of the room. A mauve cloud of his master‘s perfume hillowed out into the chill corridor with us and dissipated itself on the spinning winds. A cell had been prepared for me, a vetitable cell, windowIess, airless, lightless, in the viscera of the palace. The valet lit a lamp for me; a nanow bed, a dark cupboard with fiuit and flowers carved on it bulked out of the gloom. "I shall twist a noose out of my bed linen and hang myself with it," I said “Oh, no," said the valet, fixing upon me wide and suddenly mel» ancholy eyes. ”Oh, no, you wiII not. You ate a woman of honour." And what was he doing in my bedtoom, this jigging caricature of a man? Was he to be my wardei until I submitted to The Beast’s whim or he to mine? Am I in such reduced circumstances that I may not have a lady's maid? As if in reply to my unspoken demand, the valet clapped his hands “To assuage your loneliness, madame . , .' A knocking and clattering behind the door of the cupboard; the door swings open and out glides a soubrette from an Operetta, with glossy, nut—brown curls, rosy cheeks, blue, rolling eyes; it takes me a moment Z. “Undrcsed” (Italian). CARTER / THE TIGER’S BRIDE 59 to recognize her, in her little cap, her white stockings, her friIIed pet- tieoatsi She carries 3 looking glass in one hand and a powder puff in the other and there is a musical box where heI heart should be; she tinkles as she rolls towards me on her tiny wheels. ”Nothing human lives here," said the valet. My maid halted, bowed; from a split seam at the side of her bodice protrudes the handle of a key. She is a marvellous machine, the most deIicater balanced system of cords and pulleys in the world, ”We have dispensed with servants," the valet said. “We surround ourselves, instead, for utility and pleasure, with simulacra and find it no less convenient than do most gentlemen." This clockwork twin of mine halted before me, her bowels churning out a settecento’ minuet, and offered me the bold carnation of her smile CIiek, eliek—she Iaises her arm and busily dusts my cheeks with pink, powdeted chaIIt that makes me cough; then thtusts towards me heI little mirmin I saw within it not my own face but that of my fathet, as ifI had put on his face when I arrived at The Beast’s palace as the discharge of his debt. What, you seIf-deluding fool, are you crying still? And drunk, too. He tossed back his grappa and hurled the tumbler away. Seeing my astonished fright, the valet took the mirror away from me, breathed on it, polished it with the ham of his gloved fist, handed it back to me. Now all I saw was myself, haggard from a sleepless night, pale enough to need my maid’s supply of rouge. I heard the key turn in the heavy door and the valet’s footsteps patter down the stone passages Meanwhile, my double continued to powder the ait, emitting her ianinng tune buty as it turned out, she was not inexhaustible; soon she was powdering more and yet more languor- ously, her meta] heart slowed in imitation of fatigue, heI musical box ran down until the notes separated themselves out of the tune and plopped like single raindrops and, as if sleep had overtaken her, at last she moved no longer, As she succumbed to sleep, I had no option but to do so, toot I dropped on that nanow bed as if felledi Time passed but I do nut know how much; then the valet woke me with mils and honey I gestured the tray away but he set it down firmly beside the lamp and took from it a little shagreen box, which he offered to me. I turned away my head, “Oh, my lady!" Such hurt cracked his high-pitched voice! He dex- trously unfastened the gold clasp; on a bed of ctimson veret lay a single diamond earring, perfect as a tear, I snapped the box shut and tossed it into a corneri This sudden, sharp movement must have disturbed the mechanism of the doll; she 3. Seventeenth-ccntury (Italian). 60 Bum AND THE BEAST jerked her arm almost as if to reprimand me, letting out a rippling fart of gavotte4 Then was still againr “Very well," said the valet, put out. And indicated it was time for me to visit my host again. He did not let me wash or comb my hair. There was so little natural light in the interior of the palace that I could not tell whether it was day or night You would not think The Beast had budged an inch since I last saw him; he sat in his huge chair, with his hands in his sleeves, and the heavy air never moved I might have slept an hour, a night, or a month, but his sculptured calm, the stifling air remained just as it had been The incense rose from the pot, still traced the same signature on the air, The same fire burned. Take off my clothes for you, like a ballet girl? Is that all you want of me? “The sight of a young lady's skin that no man has seen before—" stammered the valet. I wished I'd rolled in the hay with every laid on my father’s Iann, to disqualify myself from this humiliating bargain, That he should want so little was the reason why I could not give it; I did not need to speak for The Beast to understand me A tear came from his other eye. And then he moved; he buried his cardboard carnival head with its ribboned weight of false hair in, I would say, his arms; he withdrew his, I might say, hands from his sleeves and I saw his furred pads, his excoriating claws. The dropped tear caught upon his fur and Shane And in my room for hours I hear those paws pad back and forth outside my door. When the valet arrived again with his silver salver, I had a pair of diamond earrings of the finest water in the world; I threw the other into the corner where the first one lay, The valet twittered with ag- grieved regret but did not offer to lead me to The Beast again. Instead, he smiled ingratiatingly and confided: "My master, he say: invite the young lady to go riding." “What’s this?" He briskly mimicked the action of a gallop and, to my amazement, tunelessly croaked: “Tantivy! tantivy!s a-hunting we will go!" “I’ll run away, I’ll ride to the city." “Oh, no," he said. “Are you not a woman of honour?" He clapped his hands and my maidservant clicked and jangled into the imitation of life. She rolled towards the cupboard where she had come from and reached inside it to fetch out over her synthetic arm my riding habit, Of all things My very own riding habit, that I’d left 4. A French dance, 5. A hunting cry used when the chase is m Iull speed. CARTER / THE TIGER’S BRIDE 61 behind me in a think in a loft in that county house outside Petersburg that we’d lost long ago, before, even, we set out on this wild pilgrimage to the cruel South. Either the very riding habit my old nurse had sewn for me or else a copy of it perfect to the lost button on the right sleeve, the ripped hem held up with a pint I turned the worn cloth about in my hands, looking for a clue. The wind that sptinted through the palace made the door tremble in its frame; had the north wind blown my gatments across Europe to me? At home, the bear's son directed the winds at his pleasure; what democracy of magic held this palace and the Fir forest in common? Or, should I be prepared to accept it as proof ofthe axiom my father had drummed into me: that, ifyou have enough money, anything is possible? “Tantivy,” suggested the now twinkling valet, evidently charmed at the pleasure mixed with my bewilderment. The clockwork maid held my iacket out to me and I allowed myself to shrug into it as if reluc- tantly, although I was half mad to get out into the open air, away from this deathly palace, even in such company. The doors ofthe hall let the blight day in; I saw that it was morningi Our horses, saddled and bridled, beasts in bondage, were waiting for us, striking sparks from the tiles with their impatient hooves while their stablemates lulled at ease among the strawy conversing with one anothet in the mute speech of horses. A pigeon or two, feathers puffed to keep out the cold, shutted about, pecking at ears of corn The little black gelding who had brought me here greeted me with a ringing neigh that resonated inside the misty roof as in a sounding box and I knew he was meant for me to ride, I always adored horses, noblest of creatures, such wounded sensitivity in their wise eyes, such rational restraint of energy at their highvstrung hindquarters. I linuped and hurrumphed to my shining black compam ion and he acknowledged rny gteeting with a kiss on the forehead from his soft lips, There was a little shaggy pony nuzzling away at the trompe l’tzil6 foliage beneath the hooves of the painted horses on the wall, into whose saddle the valet sprang with a flourish as of the CIK‘DUS‘ Then The Beast, wrapped in a black fur—lined cloak, came to heave himself aloft a grave grey mare. No natural horseman he; he clung to her mane like a shipwrecked sailor to a spam Cold, that morning, yet dazzling with the sharp winter sunlight that wounds the retina. There was a scurrying wind about that seemed to go with us, as if the masked, immense one who did not speak carried it inside his cloak and let it out at his pleasure, for it stirred the horses’ manes but did not lift the lowland mists. A bereft landscape in the sad browns and sepias of winter lay all 6. A visual deception o. a painting that gives the illusion of being real (French). 62 BEAUTY AND THE Bram about us, the marshland drearily protracting itself towards the wide rivers Those decapitated willows, Now and then, the swoop of a bird, its irreconcilable cry, A profound sense of strangeness slowly began to possess me. I knew my two companions were not, in any way, as other men, the simian retainer and the master for whom he spoke, the one with clawed fore- paws who was in a plot with the witches who let the winds out of their knotted handkerchiefs up towards the Finnish border, I knew they lived according to a different logic than I had done until my father aban- doned me to the wild beasts by his human carelessness. This knowledge gave me a certain fearfialness still; but, I would say, not much . . . I was a young girl, a virgin, and therefore men denied rne rationality just as they denied it to all those who were not exactly like themselves, in all their unreason. If I could see not one single soul in that wildemess of desolation all around me, then the six of us—mounts and riders, both—could boast amongst us not one soul, either, since all the best religions in the world state categorically that not beasts nor women were equipped with the flimsy, insubstantial things when the good Lord opened the gates of Eden and let Eve and her familiars tumble out, Understand, then, that though I would not say I privately engaged in metaphysical speculation as we rode through the reedy approaches to the river, I certainly meditated on the nature of my own state, how I had been bought and sold, passed from hand to hand. That clockwork girl who powdered my cheeks for me; had I not been allotted only the same kind of imitative life amongst men that the dolI—maker had given her? Yet, as to the true nature of the being of this clawed magus7 who rode his pale horse in a style that made me recall how Kublai Khan's leopards went out hunting on horseback, of that I had no nation We came to the bank of the river that was so wide we could not see across it, so still with winter that it scarcely seemed to flow. The horses lowered their heads to drink. The valet cleared his throat, about to speak; we were in a place of perfect privacy, beyond a brake of winter- bare rushes, a hedge of reeds. “If you will not let him see you without your clothes—” I involuntarily shook my head7 “—you must, then, prepare yourself for the sight of my master, naked‘" The river broke on the pebbles with a diminishing sigh. My com- posure deserted me; all at once I was on the brink of panic‘ I did not think that I could hear the sight of him, whatever he was, The mare raised her dripping muzzle and looked at me keenly, as if urging met This river broke again at my feet. I was far from home 7‘ Magician, sorcerer, CARTER / THE TIGER’S BRIDE 63 ”You," said the vaIet, “must." When I saw how seared he was I might refuse, I nodded. The reed bowed down in a sudden snarl of wind that brought with it a gust of the heavy odour of his disguises The valet heId out his mastei’s cloak to screen him from me as he [emoved the mask, The IIOISES stirredi The tiger will never lie down with the lamb; he acknowIedges no pact that is not Ieciprocal. The lamb must learn to run with the tigers. A great, feline, tawny shape whose pelt was barred with a savage geometry of has the colour of burned wood. His domed, heavy head, so terrible he must hide it. How subtle the muscles, how profound the tread. The annihilating vehemence of his eyes, like twin sunst I felt my breast ripped apart as if I suffered a marvellous wound The valet moved forward as if to cover up his master now the girI had acknowIedged him, but I said: “Not" The tiger sat still as a heraldic beast, in the pact he had made with his own ferocity to do me no harm, He was far Iarger than I could have imagined, from the poor, shabby things I‘d seen once, in the Czar's menageiie at Peteisburg, the golden fruit of their eyes dimming, withering in the far North of captivity. Nothing about him reminded me of humanity. I therefore, shivering, now unfastened my jacket, to show him I would do him no harms Yet I was clumsy and blushed a little, for no man had seen me naked and I was a proud girl. Pride it was, not shame, that thwarted my fingers so; and a certain trepidation Iest this frail Iittle article of human upholstery before him might not be, in itself, grand enough to satisfy his expectations of us, since those, foi aII I knew, might have grown infinite during the endless time he had been waiting. The wind clattered in the rushes, pulled and eddied in the river. I showed his grave silence my white skin, my red nipples, and the horses turned their heads to watch me, also, as if they, too, were cour- teoust curious as to the flesth nature of women. Then The Beast lowered his massive head; Enough! said the valet with a gestuxe. The wind died down, all was still again. Then they went at? together, the valet on his pony, the tiger running before him like a hound, and I walked along the river bank for a while, I felt I was at liberty for the first time in my life. Then the winter sun began to tamish, a few flakes of snow drifted fmm the darkening sky and, when I returned to the horses, I found The Beast mounted again on his grey mare, cloaked and masked and once more, to all appear- ances, a man, while the valet had a fine catch of waterfowl dangling from his hand and the corpse of a young mebuck slung behind his saddles I climbed up on the black gelding in silence and so we returned to the palace as the snow tell more and more heavily, obscuring the tracks that we had left behind us 64 BEAUTY AND THE BEAST The valet did not return me to my cell but, instead, to an elegant, if old-fashioned boudoir with sofas of faded pink brocade, a iinn's trea— sury of Oriental carpets, tintinnabulation of cut—glass chandeliers. Can— dles in antlered holders struck rainbows fiom the prismatic hearts of my diamond earrings, that lay on my new dressing table at which my attentive maid stood ready with her powder puff and mirror. Intending to fix the omaments in my ears, I took the looking glass from her hand, but it was in the midst of one of its magic fits again and I did not see my own face in it but that of my father; at first I thought he smiled at me Then I saw he was smiling with pure gratification, He sat, I saw, in the parlout of our lodgings, at the very table where he had lost me, but now he was busily engaged in counting out a tremendous pile of banknotes. My father's circumstances had changed already; welI-shaven, neatly barbered, smart new clothesi A frosted glass of sparkling wine sat convenient to his hand beside an ice bucket. The Beast had clearly paid cash on the nail for his glimpse of my bosom, and paid up promptly, as if it had not been a sight I might have died of showing Then I saw my father's trunks were packed, ready for de- parture. Could he so easily leave me here? There was a note on the table with the money, in a fine hand. I could read it quite clearly. “The young lady will arrive immediately." Some harlot with whom he’d briskly negotiated a liaison on the strength of his spoils? Not at all, For, at that moment, the valet knocked at my door to announce that I might leave the palace at any time hereafter, and he bore ovel his arm a handsome sable cloak, my very own little gratuity, The Beast's morning gift, in which he proposed to pack me up and send me oft. When I looked at the minor again, my father had disappeared and all I saw was a pale, holloweyed gill whom I scarcely recognized. The valet asked politely when he should prepare the carnage, as if he did not doubt that I would leave with my booty at the first opportunity while my maid, whose face was no longer the spit of my own, continued bonnily to beam. I will dress her in my own clothes, wind her up, send her back to perform the part of my father's daughter. ”Leave me alone," I said to the valet. He did not need to lock the door, now, I fixed the earrings in my ears. They were very heavy. Then I took off my riding habit, left it where it lay on the floor, But, when I got down to my shift, my arms dropped to my sides, 1 was unaccustomed to nakedness, [was so unused to my own skin that to take off all my clothes involved a kind of flaying, I thought The Beast had wanted a little thing compared with what I was prepared to give him; but it is not natural for humankind to go naked, not since first we hid our loins with fig leaves. He had demanded the abominable, I felt as much atrocious pain as if I was stripping off my own underpelt and the smiling gill stood poised in the oblivion of CARTER / THE Trcrsk’s BRIDE 65 her balked simulation of life, watching me peel down to the cold, white meat of contract and, if she did not see me, then so much more like the market place, where the eyes that watch you take no account of your existence. And it seemed my entire life, since I had left the North, had passed under the indifferent gaze of eyes like hers. Then I was flinching stark, except for his irreproachable tears. I huddled in the furs I must return to him, to keep me from the lacerating winds that raced along the corridors I ltnew the way to his den without the valet to guide me No response to my tentative rap on his door. Then the wind blew the valet whirling along the passage. He must have decided that, if one should go naked, then all should go naked; without his livery, he revealed himself, as I had suspected, a delicate creature, covered with silken moth-grey fur, brown fingers supple as leather, chocolate muzzle, the gentlest creature in the world He gib< bered a little to see my fine furs and jewels as if I were dressed up for the opera and, with a great deal of tender ceremony, removed the sables from my shoulders. The sables thereupon resolved themselves into a pack of black, squeaking rats that rattled immediately down the stairs on their hard little feet and were lost to sight. The valet bowed me inside The Beast’s rooms The purple dressing gown, the mask, the wig, were laid out on his chair; a glove was planted on each arm. The empty house of his ap- pearance was ready for him but he had abandoned it. There was a reek of fur and piss; the incense pot lay broken in pieces on the floor. Half~ burned sticks were scattered from the extinguished fire A candle stuck by its own grease to the mantelpiece lit two narrow flames in the pupils of the tiger's eyes. He was pacing backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, the tip of his heavy tail twitching as he paced out the length and breadth of his imprisonment between the gnawed and bloody bones. He will gobble you up Nursery fears made flesh and sinew; earliest and most archaic offears, fear of devourment. The beast and his carnivorous bed of bone and 1, white, shaking, raw, approaching him as if offering, in myself, the key to a peaceable kingdom in which his appetite need not be my ex- tinction. He went still as stone. He was far more frightened of me than I was of him. I squatted 0n the wet straw and stretched out my hand. I was now within the field of force of his golden eyes. He growled at the back of his throat, lowered his head, sank on to his forepaws, snarled, showed me his red gullet, his yellow teeth, I never moved. He snuffed the air, as if to smell my fear; he could not. 66 BEAUTY AND THE BEAsr Slowly, slowly he began to drag his heavy, gleaming weight across the floor towards me. A tremendous throbbing, as of the engine that makes the earth tum, filled the little room; he had begun to punt The sweet thunder of this puir shook the old walls, made the shutters batter the windows until they burst apart and let in the white light of the snowy moon. Tiles came crashing down from the roof; I heard them fall into the courtyaid far below The Ieverberations of his purring Iocked the foundations of the house, the walls began to dance, I thought: “It will all fall, everything will disintegrate" He dragged himself closer and closer to me, until I felt the harsh velvet of his head against my hand, then a tongue, abrasive as sand- paper, “He will lick the skin OE me!" And each stroke of his tongue ripped off skin after successive skin, all the skins of a life in the world, and left behind a nascent patina of shining hairsi My earrings turned back to water and trickled down my shoulders; I shrugged the drops off my beautiful fur. Urashima the Fisherman’r Young Urashima lived in Tango province, in the village of Tsutsu- gawat One day in the fall of 477 (it was Emperor Yfiryaku's reign), he rowed out alone on the sea to fish After catching nothing for diree days and nights, he was surprised to find that he had taken a five-colored turtlei He got the turtle into the boat and lay down to sleep. When the turtle changed into a dazzlingly lovely girl, the mystified Urashima asked her who she was. “I saw you here, alone at sea," she answered with a smile, “and I wanted so much to talk to you! I came on the clouds and the wind." ”But where did you come from, then, on the clouds and wind?" "I'm an Immortal and I live in the sky Don't doubt me! Oh, be kind and speak to me tenderly!" Urashima understood she was divine, and all his fear of her melted away “I’ll love you as long as the sky and earth last," she promised him, “as long as there‘s a sun and a moon! But tell me, will you have me?" “Your wish is mine," he answered, “How could I not love you?" “Then lean on your oars, my darling, and take us to my Eternal Mountain!" She told him to close his eyes. In no time they reached a laige island t From Tango fudoki (Account of the Province ofTango), 71; m, in Iapannz Tales, comp and trans. Royall Tyler (New York: Pantheon, 1937), Cam lit a 1937 by Rm“ Tyler, Reprinted by permission of Pantheon Books, a division of Ran om House, URASHIMA THE FISHERMAN 67 with earth like jade, Watchtowers on it shone darkly, and palaces gleamed like gems, It was a wonder no eye had seen and no ear had ever heard tell of before They landed and strolled on hand in hand to a splendid mansion, where she asked him to wait; then she opened the gate and went in, Seven young girls soon came out of the gate, telling each other as they passed him that he was Turtle's husband; and eight girls who came after them told each other the same, That was how he learned her name. He mentioned the girls when she came back out She said the seven were the seven stars of the Pleiades, and the eight the cluster of Alde- baran, Then she led him inside. Her father and mother greeted him warmly and invited him to sit down. They explained the difference between the human and the di- vine worlds, and they let him know how glad this rare meeting between the gods and a man had made them. He tasted a hundred fragrant delicacies and exchanged cups of wine with the girl’s brothers and sistersr Young girls with glowing faces flocked to the happy gathering, while the gods sang their songs sweetly and clearly and danced with fluid grace. The feast was a thousand times more beautiful than any ever enjoyed by mortals in their far—off landr Urashima never noticed the sun going down, but as twilight came on the Immortals all slipped away. He and the maiden, now alone, lay down in each other's arms and made love They were man and wife at last For three years he forgot his old life and lived in paradise with the Immortals Then one day he felt a pang of longing for the village where he had been born and the parents he had left behind. After that, he missed them more each day "Darling,” said his wife, “you haven't looked yourself latelyr Won't you tell me what's wrong?” “They say the dying fox turns toward his lair and the lesser man longs to go home. I’d never believed it, but now I know it’s true” “Do you want to go back?" “Here I am in the land of the gods, far from all my family and friends I shouldn’t feel this way, I know, but I can’t help being homesick for them. I want so much to go back and see my mother and father!" His wife brushed away her tearsr “We gave ourselves to each other forever!" she lamented. “We promised we’d be as true as gold or the rocks of the mountains! How could a little homesickness make you want to leave me?" They went for a walk hand in hand, sadly talking it all over. Finally they embraced, and when they separated their parting was sealed. Umshima’s parents—in-law were sad to see him go, His wife gave him a ieweled box. “Dearest," she said, “if you don’t forget me and find 68 Bum AND THE BEAST you want to come back, then grip this box hard. But you mustn’t open it, ever." He got into his boat and they told him to close his eyes. In no time he was at Tsutsugawa, his home The place looked entirely different. He recognized nothing there at all “Whete's Utashima’s familyiUmshima the fisherman?" he asked a villager, “Who are you?" the villagei answered. “Where are you from? Why are you looking for a man who lived long ago? Yes, I've heard old people mention someone named Urashima. He went out alone on the sea and never came back. That was three hundred years ago. What do you want with him now?" Bewildered, Urashima roamed the village for ten days without find- ing any sign of family or old friends. At last he stroked the box his divine lady had given him and thought of her; then, forgetting his recent promise, he opened it. Befoie his eyes her fragrant form, borne by the clouds and the wind, floated up and vanished into the blue sky. He understood he had disobeyed her and would never see her again, All he could do was gaze aftei her, then pace weeping along the shore. When he dried his tears, he sang about her fat, cloud-girdled realm. The clouds, he sang, would bring her the message of his love, Her sweet voice answered him, across the vastness of the sky, entieating him never to folget hen Then a last song burst from him as he sttuggled with his loss: “My love, when after a night of longing, day dawns and I stand at my open door, I hear far—off waves breaking 0n the shores of youi paradise!" If only he hadn’t opened that ieweled box, people have said since, he could have been with her again, But the clouds hid her paxadise from him and left him nothing but his giief. ALEXANDER AFANASEV The Frog Princessl Long ago, in ancient times, there was a king who had three sons, all of them grown. The king said: “My children, let each of you make a bow for himself and shoot an arrow. She Who brings back your arrow will be your bride; he whose anow is not brought back will not marry." The eldest son shot his arrow, and a prince’s daughter brought it back to him. The middle son shot his arrow, and a geneial’s daughter c From Russian Fairy Tale: by Nuxbert Guterman ed. and trans ml] by Alexander Manamv. Copynght e 1945 by Pantheon Books Inc and renewed 19'7; by Random House Inc. Reprinted by peimission Dr Pantheon soaks 2 division of Random Hause, Inc Mamasevs collection was ongmuy published over a period of several years 1855-68 AFANASEV / THE FROG PRINCESS 69 brought it back to him. But little Prince [Van’s arrow was brought back from the marsh by a frog who held it between her teeth, His brothers were joyous and happy, but Prince Ivan became thoughtful and wept: “How will I live with a frog? After all, this is a life task, not like wading across a river or walking across a field!" He wept and wept, but there was no way out of it, so he took the frog to wife. All three sons and their brides were wed in accordance with the customs of their country; the frog was held on a dish. They began living together, One day the king asked that all three brides make him gifts, so that he could see which of them was the most skillful, Prince Ivan again became thoughtful and wept: “What can my frog make? Everyone will laugh at me!" The frog only hopped about on the floor and croaked. When Prince Ivan fell asleep, she went out into the street, cast OE her skin, tumed into a lovely maiden, and cried: “Nurses, nurses! Make something!” The nurses at once brought a finely woven shirt. She took it, folded it, placed it beside Prince Ivan, and again turned herself into a frog, as though she had never been anything else! Prince Ivan awoke, was overjoyed with the shirt, and brought it to the king The king received it, examined it, and said: “Well, this is indeed a shirt to wear on holidays!" Then the second brother brought a shirt The king said: “This one is good only to wear to the bath!" And of the shirt the eldest brother brought he said: ”This one is fit to be worn only in a lowly peasant hut!" The king’s sons left, and the two elder ones decided between themselves: “We were wrong to make fun of Prince Ivan’s wife; she is not a frog, but a cunning witch!" The king again issued a command to his daughters—in-law—this time that they should bake bread, and show it to him, so that he might see which of them baked best. Before the first contest, the brides of the two elder sons had made fun of the frog; but now they sent a cham- ben-naid to spy on her and see how she would go about baking her loaf. The frog was aware of this, so she mixed her dough, rolled it, hollowed out the oven from above, and poured her dough right there The chamberrnaid saw this and ran to tell her mistresses, who forthwith did the same, But the cunning frog had deceived them; the moment the chambermaid left, she dug the dough out of the oven, cleaned and plastered up everything as though nothing had happened, then went on the porch, got out of her frog’s skin, and cried: “Nurses, nurses! Bake me such a loaf of bread as my dear father ate only on Sundays and holidays!" The nurses brought the bread at once. She took it, placed it beside the sleeping Prince Ivan, and turned into a frog again. Prince Ivan awoke, took the bread, and went with it to his fatheri Just then the king was examining the loaves of bread brought by his elder sons. Their wives had dropped the dough into the oven just as the frog had, and all they had pulled out was formless lumps. First the king took the eldest son’s loaf, looked at it, and sent it back to the kitchen; 70 BEAUTY AND THE BEAsr then he took the second son's loaf and sent it back too. Then came Prince Ivan’s turn: he presented his loafi The father received it, ex amined it, and said: "Now this bread is good enough for a holiday! It is not slack—haked, like that of my elder daughters»in—law!" After that the king decided to hold a ball in order to see which of his daughters—in-law danced best. All the guests and the daughters-in- law assembled, and also the sons, except Prince Ivan, who became thoughtful: how could he go to a ball with a frog? And our Prince Ivan began to sob. The frog said to him: ”Weep not, Prince Ivan! Co to the ball. I will join you in an hour.” Prince [van was somewhat heartened when he heard the frogs words; he left for the ball, and the frog cast off her skin, and dressed herself in marvelous raiment. She came to the ball; Prince Ivan was overjoyed, and all the guests clapped their hands when they beheld her: what a beauty! The guests began to eat and drink; the princess would pick a bone and put it in her sleeve; she would drink of a cup and pour the last drops into her other sleeve. The wives of the elder brothers saw what she did, and they too put the bones in their sleeves, and whenever they drank of a cup, poured the last drops into their other sleeves. The time came for dancing; the tsar called upon his elder daughters—in-law, but they deferred to the frog She straightway took Prince Ivan’s arm and came forward to dance She danced and danced, and whirled and whirled, a marvel to behold! She waved her right hand, and lakes and woods appeared; she waved her left hand, and various birds began to fly about. Everyone was amazed ’ She finished dancing, and all that she had created vanished. Then the other daughters-imlaw came forward to dance. They wanted to do as the frog had done: they waved their right hands, and the bones flew straight at the guests; and from their left sleeves water spattered, that too on the guests, The king was displeased by this and cried: “Enough, enough!" The daughters—in-law stopped dancing. The ball was over, Prince Ivan went home first, found his wife’s skin somewhere, took it and burned it. She arrived, looked for the skin, but it was gone, burnedi She lay down to sleep with Prince Ivan, but before daybreak she said to him: “If you had waited a little, I would have been yours; now only God knows when we will be together again, Farewell! Seek me beyond the thrice ninth land, in the thrice tenth kingdom!” And the princess vanished. A year went by, and Prince Ivan longed for his wife, In the second year, he made ready for his journey, obtained his father’s and mother’s blessing, and left. He walked a long time and Suddenly he saw a little hut standing with its front to the woods and its back to him. He said: ”Little hut, little hut, stand the old way, as thy mother stood thee, with thy back to the woods and thy front to me!” The hut turned around, He entered. An old woman was sitting there, who said: “Fie, fie! Of a AFANASEV / THE FROG PRINCESS 71 Russian bone not a sound was heard, not a glimpse was seen, and now a Russian bone has come to my house of its own free wilt Whither guest thou, Prince Ivan?" "First of all, old woman, give me to eat and to drink, then ask me questions? The old woman gave him to eat and to drink and put him to bed‘ Prince Ivan said to her: ”Little grand- mother, I have set out to find Elena the Fain" “Oh, my child, how long you have been away! At the beginning she often remembered thee, but now she no longer remembers thee, and has not come to see me for a long time, Go now to my middle sister, she knows mere than I doi" In the morning Prince Ivan set out, came to a hut, and Said: "Little hut, little hut, stand the old way, as thy mother stood thee, with thy back to the woods and thy front to me." The hut turned around. He entered, and saw an old woman sitting there, who said: “Fie, lie! of a Russian bone not a sound was heard, not a glimpse was seen, and now a Russian hone has come to my house of its own free will. Whither guest thou, Prince Ivan?" “To get Elena the Fair, little grandmother," “Oh, Prince Ivan,” said the old woman, “thou hast been long a—eoming! She has begun to forget thee, she is marrying someone else; the wed- ding will take place soon! She is now living with my eldest sister, Go there, but be careful, When thou approachest their house, they will sense it; Elena will turn into a spindle, and her dress will turn into gold thread. My sister will wind the gold thread; when she has wound it around the spindle, and put it into a box and locked the box, thou must find the key, open the box, break the spindle, throw the top of it in back of thee, and the bottom of it in front of thee. Then she will appear before thee." Prince Ivan went, came to the third old woman‘s house, and entered. The old woman was winding gold thread; she wound it around the spindle and put it in a box, locked the box, and put the key somewhere. He took the key, opened the box, took out the spindle, broke it just as he had been told, cast the top in back of him and the bottom in front of him, Suddenly Elena the Fair stood before him and greeted him: “Oh, you have been a long time coming, Prince Ivan! I almost married someone else" And she told him that the other bridegroom was ex- pected sooni Elena the Fair took a magic carpet from the old woman, sat on it with Prince Ivan, and they took off and flew like birds. The other bridegroom suddenly arrived and learned that they had left. He too was cunning! He began to pursue them, and chased and chased them, and came within ten yards of ovemking them: but on their carpet they flew into Russia, and for some reason he could not get into Russia, so he turned back. The happy bride and groom came home; everyone rejoiced, and soon Ivan and Elena began to live and prosper, for the glory of all the people. 72 BEAUTY AND THE BEAST The Swan Maiden? A young peasant, in the parish of Meilhy, who often amused himself with hunting, saw one day three swans flying toward him, which settled down upon the strand of a sound near by. Approaching the place, he was astonished at seeing the three swans divest themselves of their feathery attire, which they threw into the grass, and three maidens of dazzling beauty step forth and spring into the water‘ After sporting in the waves awhile they returned to the land, where they resumed their former garb and shape and flew away in the same direction from which they came. One of them, the youngest and fairest, had, in the meantime, so smitten the young hunter that neither night nor day could he tear his thoughts from the bright image His mother, noticing that something was wrong with her son, and that the chase, which had formerly been his favorite pleasure, had lost its attractions, asked him finally the cause of his melancholy, where- upon he related to her what he had seen, and declared that there was no longer any happiness in this life for him if he would not possess the fair swan maiden. “Nothing is easier," said the mother. “G0 at sunset next Thursday evening to the place where you last saw heri When the three swans come, give attention to where your chosen one lays her feathery garb, take it and hasten away," The young man listened to his mother's instructions, and, betaking himself, the following Thursday evening, to a convenient hiding place near the sound, he waited, with impatience, the coming of the swans. The sun was just sinking behind the trees when the young man’s ears were greeted by a whizzing in the air, and the three swans settled down upon the beach, as on their former visit As soon as they had laid off their swan attire they were again trans- formed into the most beautiful maidens, and, springing out upon the white sand, they were soon enjoying themselves in the water. From his hiding place the young hunter had taken careful note of where his enchantress had laid her swan feathers. Stealing softly forth, he took them and returned to his place of concealment in the sur- rounding foliage. Soon thereafter two of the swans were heard to fly away, but the third, in search of her clothes, discovered the young man, before whom, believing him responsible for their disappearance, she fell upon her knees and prayed that her swan attire might be returned to here The t “The Swan Maiden," in Scandinavian Folk and Faivy Tales, comp, Claire Boos: (New York: Avenei Books, 1984)‘ Reprinted From Herman Hofberg, Swedish Fairy Tales, 1895. THE SWAN MAIDEN 73 hunter was, however, unwilling to yield the beautiful prize, and, casting a cloak amund her shoulders, carried her home. Preparations were soon made for a magnificent wedding, which took place in due form, and the young couple dwell lovingly and contentedly together. . One Thursday evening, seven years later, the huntex related to her how he had sought and won his wife He brought forth and showed her, also, the white swan feathers of her former days. No sooner were they placed in her hands than she was transformed once more into a swan, and instantly took flight through the open window, In breathless astonishment, the man stated wildly after his rapidly vanishing wife, and before a year and a day had passed, he was laid, with his longings and sorrows, in his allotted place in the village church-yard. INTRODUCTION: Snow White Walt Disney's Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs has so eclipsed other versions of the story that it is easy to forget that hundreds of vatiants have been collected over the past century in Europe, Asia, Africa, and the Americas. The heroine may ingest a poisoned apple in her cine< matic incarnation, but in Italy she is iust as likely to fall victim to a toxic comb, a contaminated cake, or a sufiocating braid, Disney's queen, who demands Snow White's heart from the huntsman who takes her into the woods, seems Iestrained by comparison with the Grimms’ evil queen, who orders the hunsman to return with the girl's lungs and liver (she plans to eat both after boiling them in salt water). In Spain, the queen is even more Moodthirsty, asking for a bottle of blood stop- pered with the girl's toes In Italy, she instruct: the huntsman to return with the girl's intestines and her blood-soaked shirt. Disney’s film has made much of Snow White's coflin being made of glass, but in other versions that coffin is made of gold, silver, or lead or is iewel-encmsted‘ While it is often displayed on a mountaintop, it can also be set adrift on a river, placed under a tree, hung from the raftets of a room, or locked in a room and sunounded with candles‘ “Snow White" may vary tremendously from cultute to culture in its details, but it has an easily identifiable, stable core. Steven Swarm Jones, modifying and refining the structure outline in the Aame-Thompson index, emphasizes nine episodes: otigin (birth of the hewine), iealousy, expulsion, adoption, renewed jealousy, death, exhibition, Iesuscitation, and resolution. But while Swann captures the defining features of the tale and reveals how the story's nanative structure is sustained by the tension of binary oppositions (birth/death, expulsion/adoption, iealousy/ affection, etc.), he is at a loss when it comes to accounting fot the staying powet of this cultuml story. Rather than drawing definite con— clusions about what is at stake in a plot driven by campetitive energy, he cautiously formulates what he perceives to be the tale's shaping force: “The most plausible explanation for the form that the overall plot structure of ‘Snow White' assumes," he declares, “is that it is a reflec~ tion of a young woman’s development."1 Page numbers m bmekeB (etc! to this Nanon Critical Edition. 1. Steven Swann Jones, The Comparative Metha Structural and SymbolicAnulysAs of the AL Iomotifr af“Snow White“ (Helsinki: Academia tiarum Fennica, 1990) 32. 74 Imonucnou 75 To account for the Iemarkable narrative stability and cultural dura— bility of “Snow White," most critics point to the 1216’s powerful staging of motheI/daughter conflicts, Bruno Bettelheim defines those conflicts as oedipal and assem that they are ”left to our imagination" because “the person for whose love the two are in competition is nevet men- tioned“ Basing his interpretation of the story on the Grimms’ “Snow White,” which features a “good" biological mother who dies in child- birth and an "evil” queen who persecutes her seven—yeamld stepdaugh- ter, he advances the thesis that this splitting of the maternal function has a sttong emotional Iesonance foi fairy—tale audiences The oedipal child, he argues, has a deep need to pteserve a positive image of mother, one uncontaminated by the natural feelings of anger and hos- tility that arise as differences develop between mother and child. The wicked stepmother of fairy tales “petmits anger at this had ‘stepmother' without endangering the goodwill of the true mother, who is viewed as a diffetent person.“ For Betteiheim, the malice of the stepmother is, in the end, nothing more than a proiection of the heroine's imagination Fairy tales, he argues, do not stage scenarios that correspond to psychological realities of family life; rather, they dramatize projections of trouble brewing in the young child's mindi Thus the jealousy of the evil queen has nothing whatsoever to do with a mother's possible competition with heI daugh- ter and reflects only the daughter’s envy of the mother: “If a child cannot permit himself to feel his jealousy of a patent i . . he projects his feelings onto the parent. Then ‘i am iealous of all the advantages and prerogatives of Mother7 tums into the wishful thought ‘Mother is jealous of mei’ "‘ The snuggle between Snow White and the wicked queen so domi< nates the psychological landscape of this fairy tale that Sandra Gilbert and Susan Cuba! have proposed renaming it “Snow White and Her Wicked Stepmothen" These two feminist critics, f0! whom the Ciimms’ tale enacts “the essential but equivocal relationship between the angel—woman and the monster~woman" of Western patriarchy, em- phasize the contrast between protagonist and antagonist: The central action of the Iale—indeed its only real action—arises from the relationship between these two women: the one fair, young, pale, the other just as fair, but older, fiercer; the one a daughter, the other a mother; the one sweet, ignorant, passive, the other both artful and active; the one a sort of angel, the other an undeniable witch} Z. Bruno BetteIheim, The Um of Enchantment: The Meaning and Importance of Fairy Tales (New York: Knopf, 1976) 201. Bamlheim, Um, 590. Bmlheim, Um, 204. Sandra M. Gilbert and Susan Cuba, The Madwmnan in the Attic: The Woman Writer and the Nimbunth-Centmy Literary Imagination (New Haven: Yale UP, 1979) 35. M 9 3 ” 76 SNOW WHITE For both Bettelheim and for Gilbert and Cubar, the absent father occupies a central, if invisible, position in this domestic drama. Al- though we know nothing about Snow White's relationship to her father, Bettelheim insists that “it is reasonable to assume that it is competition for him which sets (step)rnother against daughter.“ Gilbert and Cuba! find the father acoustically present if physically absent: "His, surely, is the voice of the looking glass, the patriarchal voice of judgment that rules the Queen’s—and every woman’s—selfevaluation.”’ The absence of the father is framed as an emphatic narrative denial that only reveals the extent to which he occupies center stage. What is at stake for the two female characters is, in sum, the love, affection, or approval of the father, a father whom we see only briefly as the huntsman and heat as the voice in the minox. Although the centrality of the father does not become explicit in many versions of "Snow White," one Scottish folk- tale, "Lasair Cheug, the King of Iieland’s Daughter,” puts the father in the foreground of this family melodrama, but suggests that what is really at issue has more to do with inheritance customs than with sexual iealousy. In “The Young Slave” of Giambattista Basile’s 1634 collection of tales published under the title The Pentamemne, the persecution ofthe heroine is explicitly motivated by her aunt's (unwarranted) sexual jeal- ousy. Lisa, a Neapolitan Snow White, falls into a coma and is preserved for many yeals in a casket of crystal. When she awakens, she finds herself the target of sexual rage and jealousy, for her aunt believes that she has been the clandestine mistless of her husband. In the end, Lisa’s uncle, who has been a model of marital fidelity, reveals a distinct pref— erence for his niece when he drives his cruel wife out of the house. Basile’s tale, one of the earliest recorded versions of “Snow White," suggests that the complex psychosexual motivations shaping the plots of fairy tales underwent a piocess of repression once the social venue for the stories shifted from the household to the nursery. Where Bettelheim sees a generational conflict between mother and daughter, Gilbert and Cubar see an intrapsychie drama played out be tween two possible developmental haiectoties, one passive, docile, and compliant with patriarchal norms, the other nomadic, cxeative, and socially subversive. Gilbert and Cuba! invest the figure of the wicked queen with narrative energy so powerful that she becomes the story’s most admirable character. For them, she is a “plotter, a plot-maker, a schemer, a witch, an artist, and impersonator, a woman of almost in~ finite creative energy, witty, wily, and self-absorbed as all artists tradi- tionally are,”S And it is the queen who foxeshadows the desh'ny of Snow White; once Snow White gains the throne, she will exchange her glass 6' Eettelheim, Um, 203. 7. Gilbert and Cuber, Madman, 38. 8. Gilbert and Gubar, Mndwomnn, 38—39. INTRODUCTION 77 coffin for the imprisonment of the looking—glass: “Renouncing ‘contem— plative purity,’ she must now embark on that life of ‘significant action' which, for a woman, is defined as a witch's life because it is so mon- struus, so unnatural.“ Gilbert and Cuban suiely took an interpretive cue from Anne Sex- ton’s poetic transformation of the Giimms' “Snow White," in which an aging Queen (“brown spots on her hand / and four whiskers over her lips") is pitted against a thirteen—year—old “lovely virgin." “Beauty is a simple passion,” Sexton declares, “but, oh my friends, in the end / you will dance the fire dance in iron shoes" [96—97], The scene that stages the Queen’s death iuxtaposes a mobile Queen, dancing herself to death with “her tongue flicking in and out / like a gas jet," with a frozen Snow White, “tolling her china-blue doll eyes open and shut / and sometimes referring to her mirror /as women do" [100]. Sexton's inert Snow White is destined one day to become her mother, galva- nized into action and turned into an agent ofpersecution by the divisive gaze into the minor. The mirror image and the glass coffin, not surprisingly, have become the piivileged sites for feminist interpretive projectsi Fox Gilbert and Cubai, the magic looking glass and the enchanted glass coffin axe “the tools patriarchy suggests that women use to kill themselves into art, the two women literally try to kill each other with art."‘ “In the mirrored reduplication of the self," Elisabeth Bronfen finds both the “ego's nar- cissistic desire fol integrity and immortality" and its “division and mor- tality."1 Beauty may mask death but its image (both in the magic minor and on the face of Snow White in her coffin) reveals its connection with death, “For the queen to eliminate Snow White," Bronfen adds, “means reassuiing herself that she as a unity exists independent of difieience, Otherness and temporality.“ For these critics, the story of “Snow White" reproduces a cultural script in which women are enmeshed in a discourse connecting beauty, death, and femininity, Beauty, as reflected in the glass and seen through the coffin, may be attractive, but its seductions have a sinister, lethal sideV r1'Vhe version of “Snow White" that has had the most significant im- pact on childien today is Disney's “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs." Disney Studios bears the responsibility for turning Snow White into a cuitutal icon, making her the best known fairy—tale character in this country. The Crimms’ “Snow White" may never have fared particularly well in the United States, but its cinematic reincarnation continues to fill the coffeis of its corporate producer fifty years aftei its release If Gilbert and Cuba: believe that “Snow White" should be renamed to 9. Gilbert and Cuba, Madwarrmn, 42. 1. Gilbert and Cuban Madwoman, 36, z. Elisabeth anien, Over Her Dead Body: Death, Feminxnily, and the Aesthetic (New York: Routledge, 1992) 104. 3, anfen,0vev. 105. 78 SNOW WHITE include the wicked stepmother in that tale‘s title, it is largely because they use the Disney version as their interpretive point of departure. Covers for the video version of “Snow White" may foreground the heroine, the prince, and the seven dwarfs, but it is the wicked queen who dominates the action of the film and virtually monopolizes the film's visual and narrative energy. Interestingly, Disney Studios erased the Crimms' prefatory episode describing the death of Snow White's biological mother in childbirth—the only maternal figure is the step- mother in her double incarnation as beautiful, proud, and evil queen and as ugly, sinister, and wicked witch, Notes taken at story conferences reveal that the queen was planned as “a mixture of Lady Macbeth and the Big Bad Wolf,” fiercely treacherous and mercilessly cruel} Disney himself, who referred to the transformation of the queen into an old hag as a “Jekyll and Hyde thing,"S seemed unaware that there is no Jekyll component to this figure's personality, only two Hydes, Instead of the splitting of the mother image into a good mother who dies in childbirth and an evil queen who persecutes her stepchild, the maternal figure appears only in the realm of evil. The Disney version of “Snow White" relentlessly polarizes the notion of the feminine to produce a murderously jealous and forbiddingly cold woman on the one hand and an innocently sweet girl accomplished in the art of good housekeeping on the otheL Beginning with the Grimms, it is through a combination of labor and good looks that Snow White earns a prince for herseli Here is how the Grimms describe the house- keeping contract extended to Snow White by the dwarfs: “If you will keep house for us, cook, make the beds, wash, sew, knit, and keep everything neat and clean, then you can stay with us, and we'll give you everything you need” [85L But the dwarfs in the Crimms‘ tale are hardly in need of a housekeeper, for they appear to be models of tidi- ness. Everything in their cottage is “indescribably dainty and spotless" [84]; the table has a white cloth with tiny plates, cups, knives, forks, and spoons, and the beds are covered with sheets “as white as snow" [84]. Compare this description of the dwarfs’ cottage with the following one taken from a book based on Disney's version of “Snow White": Skipping across a little bridge to the house, Snow White peeked in through one window pane. There seemed to be no one at home, but the sink was piled high with cups and saucers and plates which looked as though they had never been washed Dirty little shirts and wrinkled little trousers hung over chairs, and everything was blanketed with dust ”Maybe the children who live here have no mother," said Snow 4. Richard Hollis; and Brian Sibley, Walt Disney's "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs” and the Making oflhe Classic Film (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1987) H. s. Hollis: and Sibley, Disney, 14. INTRODUCHON 79 White, “and need someone to take care of them. Let’s clean their house and surprise them." So in she went, followed by her forest friends. Snow White found an old broom in the corner and swept the floor, while the little animals all did their best to help. Then Snow White washed all the crumpled little clothes, and set a kettle of delicious soup to bubbling on the hearth6 In one post—Disney American variant of the story after another, Snow White makes it her mission to clean up after the the dwarfs (“seven dirty little boys") and is represented as sewing an apprenticeship in home economics (“Snow White, for her part, was becoming an excel- lent housekeeper and cook”).7 The Disney version itself transforms household drudgery into frolicking good fun, less work than play, since it requires no real effort, is carried out with the help of wonderfully dextmus woodland creatures, and achieves such a dazzling result. Dis- ney made a point of placing the housekeeping sequence before the encounter with the dwarfs and of presenting the dwarfs as “naturally messy,” just as Snow White is ”by nature" tidy. When she comes upon the dwarfs‘ cottage, her first instinct is “to clean it up and surprise them when they come home and maybe fliey’ll let me stay and keep house for them,"3 “We just try to make a good picture," Walt Disney once observed in connection with Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, “And then the professors come along and tell us what we do,”2 In a sense, Gilbert and Cuba! have become the prufessors who tell us what Disney did, for their critical intervention is above all'a response to Disney’s film, to a motion picture that positions the evil queen as the figure of cinematic fascination and that makes Snow White so dull that she requires a supporting cast of seven to enliven her scenes (Disney’s is the only version of “Snow White" that presents the dwarfs as individualized fig- ures). With a voice in which ”the accents of Betty Boop are far too prominent" and with a figure that has been desctibed as a “pasty, se- pulchral, sewingpattem design scissored out of context,” the Snow White character lacks the narrative charge and élan so potently present in the representation of her steprnothen| Ultimately it is the stepmoth- er's disruptive, disturbing, and divisive presence that invests the story 6, 55 an'w smn'n Adaptzd from Dimey Film, A Golden Book (n.p,: Western Publishing, 7. Kiethmu about the dwarfs is from Snow White, illus. Rex Irvine and Judie Clarke (nvp; Superscope, 1973) The description of Snow White comes Rom Storytime Treasury (New Ymk: McCall, 1969). a. 11m are the thoughm that Walt Disney put into Snow White’s mind in transclipts oia story conference in plepatation for Snnw White, See Rudy Behlmcr, "They Called It Disney's Fully': Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)," America’s Favorite Movitx: Behind the Stem: (New York: Ungal, 1982) 53‘ 9. "Mouse 61 Man," Time (27 December 1937): 21. 1. ‘The accents of Betty Boop . . Hollis: and Sibley, Dim, 65; “pasty, sepulchlal . . "The Snow White Fiasco," Current Hittmy (Inn: 1935): 46. 80 SNOW WHITE with a degree of fascination that has facilitated its widespread circula- tion and that has allowed it to take hold in our culture, CIAMBATTISTA BASILE The Young Slave? 3 a a There was once a Baron of Selvascura who had an unmarried sisterr This sister used to go and play in a garden with other girls her own age One day they found a lovely rose in full bloom, so they made a compact that whoever jumped clean over it without touching a single leaf, should win something. But although many of the girls jumped leapfrog over it, they all hit it, and not one of them jumped clean over, But when the turn came to Lilla, the Baron's sister, she stood back a little and took such a run at it that she jumped right over to the other side of the reset Nevertheless, one leaf tell, but she was so quick and ready that she picked it up from the ground without anyone noticing and swallowed it, thereby winning the prize, Not less than three days later, Lilla felt herself to be pregnant, and nearly died of grief, for she knew that she had done nothing compro- mising or dishonest, and could not understand how it was possible for her belly to have swollen. She ran at once to some fairies who were her friends, and when they heard her story, they told her not to worry, for the cause of it all was the rose~leaf she had swallowed. When Lilla understood this, she took precautions to conceal her condition as much as possible, and when the hour of her deliverance came, she gave birth in hiding to a lovely little girl whom she named Lisa. She sent her to the fairies and they each gave her some charm, but the last one slipped and twisted her foot so badly as she was running to see the child, that in her acute pain she hurled a curse at her, to the effect that when she was seven years old, her mother, whilst comb— ing out her hair, would leave the comb in her ttesses, stuck into the head, and from this the child would perish. At the end of seven yeats the disastet occurred, and the despairing mother, lamenting bitterly, encased the body in seven caskets of crystal, one within the other, and placed her in a distant room of the palace, keeping the key in her pocket However, after some time her grief brought her to her grave When she felt the end to be near, she called her brother and said to him, “My brother, I feel death's hook dragging me away inch by inch I leave you all my belongings for you to have t Giambat‘tkta Basile, ”The Young Sim," in Th2 mmmmue, trans. Benedetto Cm: (Lon- don: 30h“ Lane m: Bodley Head, 1932). Reprinted by permission. BASILE / THE YOUNG SLAVE 81 and dispose of as you like; but you must promise me never to open the last room in this house, and always keep the key safely in the casket." The brother, who loved her above all things, gave hex his word; at the same moment she breathed, “Adieu, for the beans are ripe," At the end of some years, this lord (who had in the meantime taken a wife) was invited to a hunting—party. He recommended the care of the house to his wife, and begged her above all not to open the room, the key of which he kept in the casket. However, as soon as he had turned his back, she began to feel suspicious, and impelled by jealousy and consumed by curiosity, which is woman's fitst attribute, took the key and went to open the room There she saw the young girl, clearly visible through the crystal caskets, so she opened them one by one and found that she seemed to be asleep Lisa had grown like any othei woman, and the caskets had lengthened with her, keeping pace as she grew. When she beheld this lovely creature, the jealous woman at once thought, “By my life, this is a fine thing! Keys at one’s girdle, yet nature makes homs!l No wonder he nevet let anyone open the door and see the MahometZ that he worshipped inside the Caskets!" Saying this, she seized the girl by the hair, dragged her out, and in so doing caused the comb to drop out, so that the sleeping Lisa awoke, calling out, “Mother, mother!" “I'll give you mother, and father too!" cried the Baroness, who was as bitter as a slave, as angry as a bitch with a litter of pups, and as venomous as a snake She stiaightaway cut off the girl's hair and thrashed her with the tresses, dressed he! in rags, and every day heaped blows on her head and bruises on her face, blackening her eyes and making heI mouth look as if she had eaten [aw pigeonsi When her husband came back from his hunting—party and saw this girl being so hatdly used, he asked who she was His wife answered that she was a slave sent her by her aunt, only fit for the rope's end, and that one had to be forever beating her, Now it happened one day, when the Baron had occasion to go to a fair, that he asked everyone in the house, including even the cats, what they would like him to buy f0! them, and when they had all chosen, one one thing and one another, he turned at last to the slave. But his wife flew into a rage and acted unbecomingly to a Christian, saying, ”That’s right, class her with all the others, this thick—lipped slave, let everyone be brought down to the same level and all use the urinal! Don‘t pay so much attention to a worthless bitch, let her go to the devil." But the Baron who was kind and courteous insisted that the 1. The husband or wife is euchelded, 2‘ The body of Mahnmet Was rummed to have been preserved in a coffin suspended between heaven and earth. The am“, it is implied, has been worshipping 2 false god 3. Dri ping with blood. s. All ave the same privileges (refleeh a hme in which using the urinal was considered a luxury), 82 SNow WHITE slave should also ask f0! something. And she said to him, ”I want noth- ing but a doll, a knife and a pumice—stone; and if you forget them, may you never be able to cross the first river that you come to on your ioumey!" The Baron bought all the other things, but forgot just those for which his niece had asked him; so when he came to a fiver that canied down stones and trees to the shore to lay foundations of tears and raise walls of wonder, he found it impossible to ford it. Then he remembered the spell put on him by the slave, and turned back and bought the three articles in question When he arrived home he gave out to each one the thing for which they had asked When Lisa had what she wanted, she went into the kitchen, and, putting the doll in front of her, began to weep and lament and recount all the story of her troubles to that bundle of cloth iust as if it had been a real person When it did not reply, she took the knife and sharpened it on the pumice—stone and said, “Mind, if you don’t answer me, I will dig this into you, and that will put an end to the game!" And the doll, swelling up like a reed when it has been blown into, answered at last, “All right, I have understood you! I'm not deaf!" This music had already gone on for a couple of days, when the Baron, who had a little room on the other side of the kitchen, chanced to hear this song, and putting his eye to the keyhole, saw Lisa telling the doll all about her mother's jump over the rose—leaf, how she swal- lowed it, her own birth, the spell, the curse of the last fairy, the comb left in her hair, her death, how she was shut into the seven caskets and placed in that room, her mother's death, the key entrusted to the brother, his departute for the hunt, the jealousy of his wife, how she opened the room against her husband's commands, how she cut oil her hair and treated her like a slave, and the many, many torments she had inflicted on her. And all the while she wept and said, “Answei me, dolly, or I will kill myself with this knife," And sharpening it on the pumice—stone, she would have plunged it into herself had not the Baron kicked down the door and snatched the knife out of her hand He made her tell him the story again at gleatei length, and then he embraced his niece and took her away fiorn that house, and left her in charge of one of his relations in order that she should get better, for the had usage inflicted on her by that heart of a Medea‘ had made her quite thin and pale After several months, when she had become as beautiful as a goddess, the Baron brought her home and told every- one that she was his niece. He ordered a great banquet, and when the viands had been cleared away, he asked Lisa to tell the story of the hardships she had undergone and of the cruelty of his wife—a tale which made all the guess weepi Then he drove his wife away, sending 5, Princess and sarcem ofCalchis who helped Jason obtain the Golden Fleece and murdeicd hex two sons when :he was betrayed. BROTHERS CRIMM / SNOW WHITE 83 her back to her parents, and gave his niece a handsome husband of her own choice. Thus Lisa testified that Heaven rains favors on us when we least exfnect it. BROTHERS CRIMM Snow White? Once upon a time in the middle of winter, when snow flakes were falling from the sky like feathers, a queen was sitting and sewing by a window with a black ebony frame. While she was sewing and looking out at the snow, she pricked her finger with a needle, and three drops of blood fell onto the snow. The red looked so beautiful against the white snow that she thought to herself: “If only I had a child as white as snow, as red as blood, and as black as the wood of the window flame" Soon thereafter she gave birth to a little girl, who was as white as snow, as red as blood, and as black as ebony, and she was called Snow White The queen died after the child was born. A year later the king married another woman She was a beautiful lady, but proud and arrogant and could not bear being second to any- one in beauty. She had a magic mirror, and when she stood in front of it and looked at herself, she would say: “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, Who’s the fairest one of all?” The minor would reply: "You, oh queen, are the fairest of all,” Then she was satisfied, for she knew that the minor always spoke the truth. Snow White was growing up and becoming more and more beau- tiful. When she was seven years old, she was as beautiful as the bright day and more beautiful than the queen herselfi One day the queen asked the minor: “Minor, mirror, on the wall, Who's the fairest one of all?" The mirror replied: “My queen, you are the fairest one here, But Snow White is a thousand times more fair than you!" 9 Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, “Schneewittchen,” in Kinder und Hammifichen, 7“! ed. (Bellin: Damask, 1357; 1am published: 11:111.]; Realschulbuchhandlung, 1812). Translated fax 11115 Nam“ Ctiticz] Edition by Maria Tam Copytight e 1999 by Malia Tam. 84 SNow Warm When the Queen heard these words, she trembled and turned green with envy. From that moment on, she hated Snow White, and when- ever she set eyes on her, her heart turned as cold as a stone. Envy and pride grew lil

INTRODUCTION 215
To gain mobility in the human world, Andersen’s mermaid must
sactifice her voice to the sea witch, a figure who, in her affiliation with
biological corruption, grotesque sensuality, and ugly deaths, is diamet-
rically opposed to the promise of eternal salvation. The “slimy open
space” [225] wheie she resides, the fat wateI-snakes that feed on her
“great spongy bosom” [225] and the bones of human folk that support
her house all point to a Iegime that is emphatically anchoied in nature
rather than culture, pointing to the condition of human mortality and
bodily decay, initially attracted to what the sea witch can provide, the
little mermaid ultimately renounces her black magic when she Hings
the knife meant to kill the prince into the sea and is Iewarded with the
possibility of earning immortality.
Our own culture’s answer to Andersen’s spiritually triumphant mer-
maid appears in the adventurous, rebellious, curious, and “upwardly
mobile’” Ariel created by Disney Studio‘ As one shrewd Critic of The
Little Mermaid observes, the Disney film establishes a powerful hier-
archical relationship dividing the blithe Caribbean-equivalent sea crea-
tuIes from the humans above who engage in labor and transform nature
into culture. Ariel’s longing for this realm, which manifests itself in the
commodity fetishism of het enthusiastic collecting of booty from ship-
wrecks, is fulfilled through UIsula, a grotesque Medusa-like octopus
who, like Andersen’s sea witch, represents the monstrosity of feminine
power. Ariel may regain heI voice when she is assimilated t0 the human
world in the end, but Disney conveniently leaves us in the datk about
the cost, allowing the couple’s final embrace to etase Ariel’s [ebellious-
ness, her troubled relationship with the feminine, and the painful self-
mutilation involved in her transfoimation, As Patrick D. Murphy points
out, “the escapist chatacter 0f the film” is especially evident in i6 avoid-
ance of the problem that will inevitably arise when “Ariel’s former
friend Flounder shows up on the dinner table one evening.”
Maurice Sendak, renowned for creating vibrantly spirited and sctappy
child characters, was disturbed by the “disquieting passivity” in Ander-
sen’s books for children ”At his waist,” Sendak comments on Andersen,
“he dreadfully sentimentaiizes children; they [arely have the spunk,
shrewdness, and character with which he endows inanimate obiects.”6
The little mermaid, the little match gitl, and Karen of”The Red Shoes”
he found particulatly “irritating,” suiely in part for the simple reason
that the stories of all these cteatutes end with their deaths, “His heroines
always wind up going to the bosom of God (if they’te good), 0! else
4. Lama Sells, “ When Do the Mermaid: Stand7′ Voice and Body in The Little Mermaid,” in
From Mouse to Memuzid: The Palitics ofFllm, Gender and Culture, ed, Elizaheth Bell, Lynda
Haas, Laura Sells (Bloomington‘ Indiana UP, 1995) 179‘
St Patrick D. Murphy, “ ‘The Whole Wide Woxld Was Scruhhed Clean’: The Andmcentric
Animation of Denatuxcd Disney,” in From Mouse in Mermaid, 133.
6‘ Maurice Sendak, “Hans Christian Andersen,” in Caldemtt 6 Co; Notes on Books 6 Pictures
(New Ymk: Faint, Straus and Cimux, Michael di Capua Book, 1988) 33, 34.

216 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
they’re praying or being saved from Hell by someone else’s prayers,”
the illustrator Trina Schart Hyman observed in recollecting her child-
hood reading of Andersen.7
Cheerful seIf-effacement becomes the badge of Andersen’s charac»
ters. onfully embracing death, they reproach themselves for their sins
and endorse piety, humility, passivity, and a host of other “virtues”
designed to promote subservient behavior. lack Zipes succinctly cap-
tures the contradictory logic of Andersen’s narratives: “true virtue and
self-realization can be obtained through selt’-4.‘lenial.”a For Zipes, the
message of Andersen‘s stories is based on “Andersen’s astute perception
and his own experience as a lower—class clumsy youth who sought to
cultivate himself: by becoming voiceless, walking with legs like knives,
and denying one’s needs, one (as a non—entity) gains divine recogni-
tion.”” While the stories may reflect Andersen’s own troubled psyche
and his personal experience as an upwardly mobile writer, they have
also engaged generations of children and adults alike with their melo«
dramatic depictions of desire, loss, and self-immolation.
The Little Mermaidt
Far out at sea the water’s as blue as the petals of the loveliest com-
flower, and as clear as the purest glass; but it’s very deep, deeper than
any anchor can reach. Many church steeples would have to be piled
up one above the other to reach from the bottom of the sea to the
surface. Right down there live the sea people.
Now you mustn’t for a moment suppose that it’s a bare white sandy
bottom, Oh, no. The most wonderful trees and plants are growing down
there, with stalks and leaves that bend so easily that they stir at the very
slightest movement of the water, just as though they were alive. All the
fishes, big ones and little ones, slip in and out of the branches just like
birds in the air up here Down in the deepest part of all is the sea
King’s palace. Its walls are made of coral, and the long pointed windows
of the clearest amber; but the roof is made of eockle—shells that open
and shut with the current. It’s a pretty sight, for in each shell is a
dazzling pearl; any single one of them would be a splendid ornament
in a Queen’s crown.
The sea King down there had been a widower for some years, but
7. Trina Schart Hyman, ” ‘Cut lt Dawn, and Yrm Will Find Something at the Roots,’ ” in The
Rmmmn aan’mms’ Fairy Talts. Rzrpmuvr, Reacfianx, Revirionx, ed. Donald Ham (Damn:
Wa e Slate UP, 1993) 294.
8, [ac Zipes, “Hans Christian Andersen,” in Fain’ Tale: and the Ar! ofSubvzmon: The Classical
Genre for Children and the Pm“ ofCivilization (New York: Wildman Prose, 1983) 85‘
9 Zipes, “Andersen,” 85.
9 mm Eighty Fairy Tales by Hans Christian Andersen, mnsi R. P. KeiFwinr Translation copyr
righl e 1976 by Skandlnavisk Bogforlag, Flensteds Forlag. Reprint: by permission of Pan-
theon Books, a division of Random House, Inc

THE LITI’LE MERMAID 217
his old mother kept house for himr She was a clever woman, but proud
of her noble birth; that’s why she went about with twelve oysters on her
tail, while the rest of the nobility had to put up with only six But apart
from that, she was deserving of special praise, because she was so fond
of the little sea Princesses, her grandchildren They were six pretty
children, but the youngest was the loveliest of them all Her skin was
as clear and delicate as a rose-leaf, her eyes were as blue as the deepest
lake, but like the others she had no feet; her body ended in a fish’s tail
All the long day they could play clown there in the palace, in the
great halls where living flowers grew out of the walls. The fishes would
swim in to them, just as with us the swallows fly in when we open the
windows; but the fishes swam right up to the little Princesses, fed out
of their hands, and let themselves be patted.
Outside the palace was a large garden with trees of deep blue and
fiery red; the fruit all shone like gold, and the flowers like a blazing
fire with stalks and leaves that were never still, The soil itself was the
finest sand, but blue like a sulphur flame, Over everything down there
lay a strange blue gleam; you really might have thought you were stand-
ing high up in the air with nothing to see but sky above and below
you, rather than that you were at the bottom of the sear When there
was a dead calm you caught a glimpse of the sun, which looked like a
purple flower pouring out all light from its cupi
Each of the small Princesses had her own little plot in the garden,
where she could dig and plant at will, One of them gave her flower-
bed the shape of a whale, another thought it nicer for hers to look like
a little mermaid; but the youngest made hers quite round like the sun,
and would only have flowers that shone red like it She was a curious
child, silent and thoughtful; and when the other sisters decorated their
gardens with the most wonderful things they had got from sunken ships,
she would have nothing but the rose-red flowers that were like the sun
high above, and a beautiful marble statues It was the statue of a hand-
some hoy, hew‘n from the clear white stone and come down to the
bottom of the sea from a wreck. Beside the statue she planted a rose
red weeping willow, which grew splendidly and let its fresh foliage
droop over the statue right down to the blue sandy bottoms Here the
shadow took on a violet tinge and, like the branches, was never still;
roots and treetop looked as though they were playing at kissing each
other.
Nothing pleased her more than to hear about the world of humans
up above the sea, The old grandmother had to tell her all she knew
about ships and towns, people and animals One thing especially sur-
prised her with its beauty, and this was that the flowers had a smell—
at the bottom of the sea they hadn’t any—and also that the woods were
green and the fishes you saw in among the branches could sing as
clearly and prettily as possible It was the little birds that the grand-

218 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
mother called fishes; otherwise, never having seen a bird, the small sea
Princesses would never have understood her.
“As soon as you are fifteen,” the grandmother told them, “you shall
be allowed to rise to the surface, and to sit in the moonlight on the
rocks and watch the great ships sailing past; you shall see woods and
towns.” That coming year one of the sisters was to have her fifteenth
birthday, but the rest of them—well, they were each one year younger
than the other; so the youngest of them had a whole five years to wait
before she could rise up from the bottom and see how things are with
us But each promised to tell the others what she had seen and found
most interesting on the first day; for their grandmother didn’t really tell
them enough~there were so many things they were longing to hear
about
None of them was so full of longing as the youngest: the very one
who had most time to wait and was so silent and thoughtful. Many a
night she stood at the open window and gazed up through the dark-
blue water, where the fishes frisked their tails and fins. She could see
the moon and the stars, though it’s true their light was rather pale; and
yet through the water they looked much larger than they do to us, and
if ever a kind of black cloud went gliding along below them, she knew
it was either a whale swimming above her or else a vessel with many
passengers; these certainly never imagined that a lovely little mermaid
was standing beneath and stretching up her white hands towards the
keel of their ship.
By now the eldest Princess was fifteen and allowed to go up to the
surface,
When she came back, she had a hundred things to tell; but the
loveliest, she said, was to lie in the moonlight on a sandhank in a calm
sea and there, close in to the shore, to look at the big town where the
lights were twinkling like a hundred stars; to listen to the sound of
music and the noise and clatter 0f carts and people; to see all the towers
and spires 0n the churches and hear the bells ringing. And just because
she couldn’t get there, it was this above everything that she longed fort
Oh, how the youngest sister drank it all in! And, when later in the
evening she stood at the open window and gazed up through the dark-
blue water, she thought of the big town with all its noise and clatter,
and then she seemed to catch the sound of the ehurchbells ringing
down to her.
The following year, the second sister was allowed to go up through
the water and swim wherever she liked. She came to the surface just
as the sun was setting, and that was the sight she found most beautiful.
The whole sky had looked like gold, she said, and the clouds—well,
she just couldn’t describe how beautiful they were as they sailed, all
crimson and violet, over her head And yet, much faster than they, a
flock of wild swans flew like a long white veil across the water where

THE LITTLE MERMMD 219
the sun was setting. She swam off in that direction, but the sun sank,
and its rosy light was swallowed up by sea and cloud.
The year after that, the third sister went up, She was Lheboldest of
them all, and she swam up a wide river that flowed into the sea. She
saw delightval green slopes with grape—vines; manors and {aims peeped
out among magnificent woods; she heard all the bids singing; and the
sun was so hot that she often had to dive undet the water to cool her
buming face. In a small cove she came upon a swarm of little human
children splashing about quite naked in the water. She wanted to play
with them, but they ran away terrified, and a little black animal came
up; it was a dog She had never seen a dog before It batked at her so
dreadfully that she got frightened and made for the open sea. But never
could she forget the magnificent woods, the green slopes and the dar-
ling children, who could swim on the water although they had no
fishes’ tails.
The fourth sister was not so bold, She kept far out in the wild waste
of ocean, and told them that was just what was so wonderful: you could
see for miles and miles around you, and the sky hung above like a big
glass bell. She had seen ships, but a long way off, looking like sea-gulls.
The jolly dolphins had been turning somersaults, and enormous whales
had spurted up water from their nostrils, so that they seemed to be
surrounded by a hundred fountains,
And now it was the turn of the fifth sisters HeI birthday happened to
come in wintet, and so she saw things that the otheIs hadn’t seen the
fist time. The sea appeated quite green, and great icebergs were float—
ing about; they looked like pearls, she said, and yet weIe much latger
than the church-towers put up by human beings. They were to be seen
in the most fantastic shapes, and they glittered lilte diamondst She had
sat down on one of the biggest, and all the ships gave it a wide berth
as they sailed in term! past where she sat with her long hair streaming
in the wind But late in the evening the sky became avercast with
Clouds; it lightened and thundered, as the dark waves lifted the great
blocks of ice right up, so that they flashed in the fierce red lightning.
All the ships toolt in sail, and amidst the general horror and alarm, she
sat calmly on her floating iceberg and watched the blue lightning zigzag
into the glittering sea,
The fist time one of the sistets went up to the surface, she would
always be delighted to see so much that was new and beautiful; but
afterwards, when they were older and could go up as often as they liked,
it no longer interested them; they longed to be back again, and when
a month had passed they said that, after all, it was nicest down below
-it was such a comfort to be home.
Often of an evening the five sisters used to link arms and float up
together out of the wateI. They had lovely voices, mote beautiful than
any human voice; and when a gale sprang up threatening shipwreck,

220 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
they would swim in front of the ships and sing tempting songs of how
delightful it was at the bottom of the sea. And they told the sailors not
to be afraid of coming down there, but the sailors couldn’t make out
the words of their song; they thought it was the noise of the gale, nor
did they ever see any of the delights the mermaids promised, because
when the ship sank the crew were drowned, and only as dead men did
they come to the palace of the sea King.
When of an evening the sisters floated up through the sea like this,
arm in arm, their little sister stayed back all alone gazing after them.
She would have cried, only a mermaid hasn’t any tears, and so she
suffers all the more.
”Oh, if only I were fifteen!” she said “I’m sure I shall love that world
up there and the people who live in it.”
And then at last she was fifteen,
“There, now you’ll soan be off our hands,” said her grandmother,
the old Dowager Queen. “Come now, let me dress you up like your
sisters;” and she put a wreath of white lilies on her hair, but every petal
of the flowers was half a pearl, And the old lady made eight big oysters
nip tight on to the Princess’s tail to show her high rank.
“00! that hum,” said the little mermaid.
“Yes,” said the grandmother, “one can’t have beauty for nothing.”
How she would have liked to shake off all this finery and put away
the heavy wreath! The red flowers in her garden suited her much better,
but she didn’t dare make any change. “Goodbye,” she said, and went
up through the water as light and clear as a bubble
The sun had just set, as she put her head up out of the sea, but Hie
clouds had still a gleam of rose and gold; and up in the pale pink sky
the evening star shone clear and beautiful. The air was soft and fresh,
and the sea dead calms A large three-masted ship was lying there, with
only one sail hoisted because not a breath of wind was stirring, and
sailors were lolling about in the rigging and on the yards. There was
music and singing, and as it grew dark hundreds of lanterns were lit
that, with their many different colours, looked as if the flags of all
nations were flying in the breeze.
The little mermaid swam right up to the porthole of the cabin and,
every time she rose with the swell of the wave, she could see through
the clear glass a crowd of splendidly dressed people; but the handsomest
of them all was a young Prince with large dark eyes. He couldn’t have
been much more than sixteen; it was his birthday, and that’s why there
was all this set-outl As the young Prince came out on to the deck where
sailors were dancing, over a hundred rockets swished up into the sky—
and broke into a glitter like broad daylight That frightened the little
mermaid, and she dived down under the water; but she quickly popped
up her head again, and look! it was just as if all the stars in heaven
were falling down on her. Never had she seen such fireworks. Great

THE Lime MERMAID 221
suns went spinning around, gorgeous firefishes swerving into the blue
air, and all this glitter was mirrored in the clear still water. On board
the ship herself it was so light that you could make out every little rope,
let alone the passengers. Oh, how handsome the young Prince was; he
shook hands with the sailors, he laughed and smiled, while the music
went floating out into the loveliness of the night.
It grew late, but the little mermaid couldn’t take her eyes offthe ship
and the beautiful Prince. The coloured lanterns were put out, the rock‘
ets no longer climbed into the sky, and the cannon were heard no
more; but deep down in the sea there was a mumbling and a rumbling.
Meanwhile the mermaid stayed on the water, rocking up and down so
that she could look into the cabin, But the ship now gathered speed;
one after another her sails were spread The waves increased, heavy
clouds blew up, and lightning flashed in the distances Yes, they were
in for a terrible storm; so the sailors took in their sails, as the great ship
rocked and scudded through the raging sea. The waves rose higher and
higher like huge black mountains, threatening to bring down the mast,
but the ship dived like a swan into the trough of the waves and then
rode up again on their towering crests. The little mermaid thought,
why, it must be fun for a ship to sail like that—but the crew didn’t.
The vessel creaked and cracked, the stout planks crumpled up under
the heavy pounding of the sea against the ship, the mast snapped
in the middle like a stick, and then the ship gave a lurch to one side
as the water came rushing into the hold, At last the little mermaid
realized that they were in danger; she herself had to look out for the
beams and bits of wreckage that were drifting on the water. One mo-
ment it was so pitch dark that she couldn’t see a thing, but then when
the lightning came it was so bright that she could make out everyone
on board, It was now a case of each man for himself. The young Prince
was the one she was looking for and, as the ship broke up, she saw him
disappear into the depths of the sea. Just for one moment she felt quite
pleased, for now he would come down to her; but then she remem-
bered that humans can’t live under the water and that only as a dead
man could he come down to her father’s palaces No, no, he mustn’t
die. So she swam in among the drifting beams and planks, with no
thought for the danger of being crushed by them; she dived deep down
and came right up again among the waves, and at last she found the
young Prince. He could hardly swim any longer in the heavy sea; his
arms and legs were beginning to tire, the fine eyes were closed, he
would certainly have drowned if the little mermaid had not come, She
held his head above water and then let the waves carry her along with
him.
By morning the gale had quite gone; not the smallest trace of the
ship was to be seen. The sun rose red and glowing out of the water
and seemed to bring life to the Prince’s cheeks, but his eyes were still

222 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
shutr The mermaid kissed his fine high forehead and smoothed back
his dripping hair. He was like the marble statue down in her little
garden; she kissed him again and wished that he might live
Presently she saw the mainland in front of her, high blue mountains
with the white snow glittering on their peaks like nestling swans. Down
by the shore were lovely green woods and, in front of them, a church
or a convent—she wasn’t sure which, but anyhow a building. Lemon
and orange trees were growing in the garden, and tall palm trees in
front of the gate, At this point the sea formed a little inlet, where the
water was quite smooth but very deep close in to the rock where the
fine white sand had silted up. She swam here with the handsome
Prince and laid him on the sand with his head carefully pillowed in
the warm sunshine,
Now there was a sound of bells from the large white building, and
a number of young girls came through the garden. So the little mer—
maid swam farther out behind some large boulders that were sticking
out of the water and covered her hair and breast with seafoam, so that
her face wouldn’t show; and then she watched to see who would come
to the help of the unfortunate Princei
It wasn’t long before a young girl came along. She seemed quite
frightened, but only for a moment; then she fetched several others, and
the mermaid saw the Prince come round and smile at those about him;
but no smile came out to her, for of course he didn’tknow she had
rescued him. She felt so sad that, when he was taken away into the
large building, she dived down sorrowfully into the sea and went back
to her father’s palace.
Silent and thoughtful as she had always been, she now became much
more sol Her sisters asked her what she had seen on her first visit to
the surface, but she wouldn’t say
Many a morning and many an evening she rose up to where she had
left the Prince. She saw the fruit in the garden ripen and be gathered,
she saw the snow melt on the peaks, but she never saw the Prince, and
so she always turned back more despondent than ever. Her one comfort
was to sit in the little garden with her arms round the beautiful marble
statue which was so like the Prince. She never looked after her flowers,
and they grew into a sort of wilderness, out over the paths, and braided
their long stalks and leaves on to the branches of the trees, until the
light was quite shut out.
At last she could keep it to herself no longer, but told one of her
sisters; and immediately all the rest got to know, but nobody else—
except a few other mermaids who didn’t breathe a word to any but their
nearest friends, One of these was able to say who the Prince was; she,
too, had seen the party that was held on board the ship, and knew
where he came from and whereabouts his kingdom was.
“Come on, little sister!” said the other Princesses. And with arms

224 HANS CHRISTlAN ANDERSEN
have a soul which lives for ever; still lives after the body is turned to
dust The soul goes climbing up through the clear air, up till it reaches
the shining stars. Just as we rise up out of the sea and look at the
countries of human beings, so they rise up to beautiful unknown
regions—ones we shall never see”
“Why haven’t we got an immortal soul?” the little mermaid asked
sadly “I would give the whole three hundred years I have to live, to
become for one day a human being and then share in that heavenly
world.”
”You mustn’t go worrying about that,” said the grandmother, “We’re
much happier and better off here than the people who live up there.”
“So then I’m doomed to die and float like foam on the sea, never
to hear the music of the waves or see the lovely flowers and the red
sunt Isn’t there anything at all I can do to win an immortal soul?”
“No,” said the old lady. ”Only ifa human being loved you so much
that you were more to him than father and mother—if he clung to you
with all his heart and soul, and let the priest put his right hand in yours
as a promise to be faithful and true here and in all eternity—then his
soul would flow over into your body and you, too, would get a share
in human happiness. He would give you a soul and yet keep his own.
But that can never happen The very thing that’s so beautiful here in
the sea, your fish’s tail, seems ugly to people on the earth; they know
so little about it that they have to have two clumsy supports called legs,
in order to look nice.”
That made the little mermaid sigh and look sadly at her fish’s taili
“We must be content,” said the old lady “Let’s dance and be gay
for the three hundred years we have to live—that’s a good time, isn’t
it?—then one can have one’s fill of sleep in the grave all the more
pleasantly afterwards To-night we’re having a Court ball,”
That was something more magnificent than we ever see on the earth.
In the great ballroom, walls and ceiling were made of thick but quite
clear glass. Several hundred enormous shells, rose-red and grass-green,
were ranged on either side, each with a blue-burning flame which lit
up the whole room and, shining out through the walls, lit up the sea
outside as well, Countless fishes, big and small, could be seen swim-
ming towards the glass walls; the scales on some of them shone purple-
red, and on others like silver and gold . r , Through the middle of the
ballroom flowed a wide running stream, on which mermen and mer-
maids danced to their own beautiful singingt No human beings have
voices so lovely The little mermaid sang the most sweetly of them all,
and they clapped their hands for her, and for a moment there was joy
in her heart, for she knew that she had the most beautiful voice on
earth or sea. But then her thoughts soon returned to the world above
her; she couldn’t forget the handsome Prince and her sorrow at not
possessing, like him, an immortal soult So she crept out of her father’s

THE Ln’rLE MERMAID 225
palace and, while all in there was song and merriment, she sat grieving
in her little garden. Suddenly she caught the sound of a horn echoing
down through the water, and she thought, “Ah, there he is, sailing up
above—he whom I love more than father or mother, he who is always
in my thoughts and in whose hands I would gladly place the happiness
of my life. [will dare anything to win him and an immortal souli While
my sisters are dancing there in my father’s palace, I will go to the sea
witch; I’ve always been dreadfully afraid of her, but perhaps she can
help me and tell me what to do,”
So the little mermaid left her garden and set off for the place where
the witch lived, on the far side of the roaring Whirlpools. She had never
been that way before There were no flowers growing, no sea grass,
nothing but the bare grey sandy bottom stretching right up to the whirl-
pools where the water went swirling round like roaring mill-wheels and
pulled everything it could clutch down with it to the depths. She had
to pass through Hie middle of these battering eddies in oPrder to get to
the sea witch’s domain; and here for a long stretch there was no other
way than over hot bubbling mud—the witch called it her swampi Her
house lay behind it in the middle of an extraordinary wood. All the
trees and bushes were polyps, half animals and half plants. They looked
like hundred—headed snakes growing out of the earth; all the branches
were long slimy arms with supple worm~like fingers, and joint by joint
from the root up to the very tip they were continuously on the move.
They wound themselves tight round everything they could clutch hold
of in the sea, and they never let gar The little mermaid was terribly
scared as she paused at the edge of the wood, Her heart was throbbing
with fear; she nearly turned back But then she remembered the Prince
and the human soul, and that gave her courage She wound her long
flowing hair tightly round her head, so that the polyps shouldn’t have
that to clutch her by, she folded both her hands across her breast and
darted off just as a fish darts through the water, in among the hideous
polyps which reached out for her with their supple arms and fingers,
She noticed how each of them had something they had caught, held
fast by a hundred little arms like hoops of iron, White skeletons of folk
who had been lost at sea and had sunk to the bottom looked out from
the arms of the polyps. Ship’s rudders and chests were gripped tight,
skeletons of land animals, and—most horrible at all—a small mermaid
whom they had caught and throttled.
Now she came to a large slimy open space in the wood where big
fat water-snakes were frisking about and showing their hideous whitish-
yellow bellies, In the middle was a house built of the bones of human
folk who had been wrecked. There sat the sea witch letting a toad feed
out of her mouth, iust as we might let a little canary come and peck
sugar, She called the horrible fat water-snalies her little chicks and
allowed them to sprawl about her great spongy bosom.

226 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
“I know well enough what you’re after,” said the sea witch. “How
stupid of you! Still, you shall have your way, and it’ll bring you into
misfortune, my lovely Princess, You want to get rid of your fish’s tail
and in its place have a couple of stumps to walk on like a human
being, so that the young Prince can fall in love with you and you can
win him and an immortal soul”—and with that the witch gave such a
loud repulsive laugh that the toad and the snakes fell to the ground
and remained sprawling there, “You’ve just come at the right time,”
said the witch. “Tomorrow, once the sun’s up, I couldn’t help you for
another year. I shall make you a drink, and before sunrise you must
swim to land, sit down on the shore and drink it up. Then your tail
will divide in two and shrink into what humans call ‘pretty legs’r But
it’ll hurt; it’ll be like a sharp sword going through you. Everyone who
sees you will say you are the loveliest human child they have ever seen
You will keep your graceful movements-no dancer can glide so
lightly—but every step you take will feel as if you were treading on a
sharp knife, enough to make your feet bleed. Are you ready to bear all
that? If you are, 1’” help you.”
“Yes,” said the little mermaid, and her voice trembled; but she
thought of her Prince and the prize of an immortal soulr
“Still, don’t forget this,” said the witch: “once you’ve got human
shape, you can never become a mermaid again You can never go down
through the water to your sisters and to your father’s palace; and if you
don’t win the Prince’s love, so that he forgets father and mother for
you and always has you in his thoughts and lets the priest join your
hands together to be man and wife, then you won’t get an immortal
soul. The first morning after the Prince marries someone else, your
heart must break and you become foam on the water.”
“I’m ready,” said the little mermaid, pale as death.
“Then there’s me to be paid,” said the witch, “and you’re not getting
my help for nothing You have the loveliest voice of all down here at
the bottom of the sear With that voice, no doubt, you think to enchant
him; but that voice you shall hand over to me I demand the best that
you have for me to make a rich drink. You see, I have to give you my
own blood, in order that the drink may be as sharp as a two—edged
swordl”
“But if you take my voice,” said the little mermaid, “what shall I
have left?”
“Your lovely form,” said the witch, “your graceful movements, and
your speaking eyes. With those you can so easily enchant a human
heart r . r Well, where’s your spunk? Put out your little tongue and let
me cut it off in payment; then you shall be given the potent mixture”
“Go on, then,” said the little mermaid, and the witch put the kettle
on for brewing the magic drink “Cleanliness before everything,” she

THE LITTLE MERMAID 227
said, as she scoured out the kettle with a bundle of snakes she had
knotted together. Next, she scratched her breast and let her black blood
drip down into the kettle; the steam took on the weirdest shapes, ter-
rifying to look at. The witch kept popping fresh things into the kettle,
and when it boiled up properly it sounded like a crocodile in tears. At
last the brew was ready; it looked like the clearest water.
“There you are!” said the witch and cut off the little mermaid’s
tongue; she was now dumb and could neither sing nor speaks
“If the polyps should catch hold of you, as you go back through the
wood,” said the witch, “throw but a single drop of this drink on them,
and their arms and fingers will burst into a thousand pieces.” But the
little mermaid had no need to do that The polyps shrank from her in
terror when they saw the dazzling drink that shone in her hand like a
glittering star, So she quickly came through the wood, the swamp and
the roaring Whirlpools.
She could see her father’s palace; the lights were out in the great
ballroomi They were all certain to be asleep in there by this time; but
she didn’t anyhow dare to look for them, now that she was dumb and
was going to leave them for ever. She felt as if her heart must break
for grief. She stole into the garden, picked one flower from each of her
sisters’ fiower—beds, blew a thousand finger kisses towards the palace,
and rose then through the dark-blue sea,
The sun was not yet up, as she sighted the Prince’s castle and
climbed the magnificent marble steps. The moon was shining wonder-
fully clear. The little mermaid drank the sharp burning potion, and it
was as if a twoedged sword pierced through her delicate body—she
fainted and lay as though dead, Then the sun, streaming over the sea,
woke her up, and she felt a sharp pain. But there in front of her stood
the handsome young Princes He stared at her with his coaHJlack eyes,
so that she cast down her own—and saw that her fish’s tail had gone
and she had the sweetest little white legs that any young girl could wish
for; but she was quite naked and so she wrapped herself in her long
flowing hair, The Prince asked who she was and how she had come
there, and she could only look back at him so gently and yet so sadly
out of her deepblue eyes; for of course she couldn’t speak. Then he
tool: her by the hand and led her into the castle Every step she took,
as the witch had foretold, was as though she were treading on sharp
knives and pricking gimlets; but she gladly put up with that. By the
side of the Prince she went along as lightly as a bubble; and he and
all of them marvelled at the charm of her graceful movements
Costly dresses were given her of silk and muslin; she was the most
beautiful in all the castle. But she was dumb; she could neither sing
nor speak Lovely slave-girls in gold and silk came out and danced
before the Prince and his royal parents; one of them sang more beau-

228 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
tifully than all the rest, and the Prince clapped his hands and smiled
at her. This saddened the little mermaid, for she knew that she herself
had sung far mote beautifully And she thought, “Oh, if only he knew
that I gave my voice away for ever, in order to be with him!”
Next, the slave-girls danced a graceful gliding dance to the most
delightful music; and then the little mermaid raised her pretty white
arms, lingered on the tips of her toes and then glided across the floor,
dancing as no one had danced before She looked more and more
lovely with every movement, and her eyes spoke more deeply to the
heart than the slave-gitls’ singingi
Everyone was enchanted, and especially the Prince, who called her
his little foundlingi Still she went on dancing, although every time her
foot touched the ground it felt as though she was treading on sharp
knives. The Prince said that she must never leave him, and she was
allowed to sleep on a velvet cushion outside his dOOL
He had hoys’ clothes made fol her, so that she could go riding with
him on horseback. They rode through the sweet—smelling woods, where
the green boughs grazed her shoulders and the little birds sang among
the cool foliage. She went climbing with the Piince up high mountains
and, although her delicate feet bled so that others could see it, she only
laughed and went on and on with him, until they could see the clouds
sailing below them like a flock of bids migrating to other lands.
Back at the Prince’s castle, when at night the others wete asleep, she
would go out on to the bload marble steps and cool her tingling feet
in the cold seawater; and then she would think of those down there
in the depths of the seal
One night her sisters rose up arm in arm singing so mournfully as
they swam on the water. She made signs to them, and they recognized
her and told her how unhappy she had made them all, After that, they
used to visit her every night; and once, in the far distance, she saw her
old grandmother who hadn’t been above the water for many years, and
also the sea King wearing his crown, They both stretched out their
hands towards her, but they didn’t venture in so near to the shore as
the five sisters.
Day by day she became dearei to the Prince. He loved her as one
loves a deat good child, but he didn’t dream of making her his Queen;
and yet she had to become his wife, or else she would never win an
immortal soul, but on his wedding morning would be turned to foam
on the sea,
“Do you like me best of all?” the little mermaid’s eyes seemed to
say, when he took her in his arms and kissed her lovely brow,
”Yes,” said the prince, “You’re the dearest of all, because you have
the kindest heart. You are the most devoted to me, and you remind me
of a young girl I once saw but shall pmhably nevet see again I was

THE LITTLE MERMAID 229
sailing in a ship that was wrecked; the waves drove me ashore near a
sacred temple where a number of young girls were serving. The young-
est, who found me on the beach and saved my life—I only saw her
twice. She was the only one I could ever love in this world, but you
are so like her that you almost take the place of her image in my heart
She belongs to the holy temple, so that fortune has been kind in send»
ing you to me We will never part”
“Ah, little does he know that it was I who saved his life,” thought
the mermaid; “that I carried him across the sea to the temple in the
wood; that I waited in the foam and watched if anyone would come. I
saw the pretty girl he loves better than me”—and the mermaid sighed
deeply, fol she didn’t know how to cry. “The girl belongs to the sacred
temple, he says; she’ll never come out into the world, and they’ll never
meet again. I am with himi I see him every days I will take care of
him, love him, give up my life to him.”
But now the Prince was getting married they said—married to the
pretty daughter of the neighbouring King, and that was why he was
fitting out such a splendid ship. The Prince was going at? to take a look
at his neighbour’s kingdom—that was how they put it, meaning that it
was really to take a look at his neighbour‘s daughter. A large suite was
to go with him, but the little mermaid shook her head and laughed,
She knew the Prince’s thoughts far bettei than all the others. “I shall
have to go,” he said to her. “I shall have to visit the pretty Princess, as
my parents are so insistent But force me to bring her back here as my
wife, that they will never do I can‘t love her, She’s not like the beautiful
giil in the temple, as you are, IfI ever had to find a bride, I would
rathei have you, my dear mute foundling with the speaking eyes,” and
he kissed her red mouth, played with he! long hair and laid his head
against her heart, so that it dtearned of human happiness and an im-
mortal soul.
“You’ve no fear of the sea, have you, my dumb child?” he asked, as
they stood on board the splendid ship that was to take him to the
neighbouring kingdom. And he told her of stormy gales and dead
calms, of strange fishes at the bottom of the ocean, and all that the
diver had seen there; and she smiled at his files, for she knew better
than anyone else about the bottom of the sea.
At night, when there was an unclouded moon and all were asleep
but the helmsman at his wheel, she sat by the ship’s rail and stared
down through the clear water; and she seemed to see her father’s pal—
ace, with hei old grandmothei standing on the top of it in her silver
ciown and gazing up through the swift current at the keel of the vessel.
Then het sisters came up on to the water and looked at her with eyes
full of sorrow, wringing their white handsi She beckoned to them and
smiled and would have liked to tell them that all was going well and

230 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
happily with her; but the cabin-boy came up at that moment, and the
sisters dived down, so that the boy felt satisfied that the white something
he had seen was foam on the water,
Next morning the ship sailed into the harbour of the neighbouring
King’s magnificent capital. The church-bells all rang out; and trumpets
were blown from the tall battlements, while the soldiers saluted with
gleaming bayonets and flying colours. Every day there was a fete. Balls
and parties were given one after another, but nothing had yet been seen
of the Princess; it was said that she was being educated abroad in a
sacred temple, where she had lessons in all the royal virtuesr At last she
arrived.
The little mermaid was eager for a glimpse of her beauty, and she
had to admit that she had never seen anyone more charming to look
at. Her complexion was so clear and delicate, and behind the long dark
lashes smiled a pair of trusting deep—blue eyes,
“It’s you!” cried the Prince. “You who rescued me, when I was lying
halfdead an the shore.” And he clasped his blushing bride in his arms
”Oh, I’m too, too happy,” he said to the little mermaid. “My dearest
wish—more than I ever dared to hope for—has been granted me. My
happiness will give you pleasure, because you’re fonder of me than any
of the others” Then the little mermaid kissed his hand, and already
she felt as if her heart was breaking. The marrow ofhis wedding would
mean death to her and change her to foam on the seat
All the church-bells were ringing, as the heralds rode round the
streets to proclaim the betruthalr On every altar sweet oil was burning
in rich lamps of silvers The priests swung their censers, and bride and
bridegroom joined hands and received the blessing of the bishop,
Dressed in sillt and gold, the little mermaid stood holding the bride’s
train; but her ears never heard the festive music, her eyes never saw
the holy rites; she was thinking of her last night on earth, of all she
had lost in this world
That same evening, bride and bridegroom went on board the ship;
the cannon thundered, the flags were all flying, and amidships they had
put up a royal tent of gold and purple, strewn with luxurious cushions;
here the wedded couple were to sleep that calm cool nights
The sails filled with the breeze and the ship glided lightly and
smoothly over the clear water,
As darkness fell, coloured lanterns were lit, and the crew danced
merrily on the deck The little mermaid could not help thinking ofthe
first time she came up out of the sea and gazed on just such a scene
of ioy and splendour. And now she joined in the dance, swerving and
swooping as lightly as a swallow that avoids pursuit; and shouts of ad«
miration greeted her on every side. Never had she danced so brilliantly.
It was as if sharp knives were wounding her delicate feet, but she never

THE LITTLE MERMAID 231
felt it; more painful was the wound in her heart. She knew that this
was the last evening she would see the Prince for whom she had turned
her back on kindred and home, given up her beautiful voice, and every
day suffered hours of agony without his suspecting a thing. This was
the last night she would breathe the same air as he, gaze on the deep
sea and the star—blue skyi An endless night, without thoughts, without
dreams, awaited her who had no soul and could never win one . . , All
was ioy and merriment on board until long past midnight. She laughed
and danced with the thought of death in her heart The Prince kissed
his lovely bride, and she toyed with his dark hair, and arm in arm they
went to rest in the magnificent tent.
The ship was now hushed and still; only the helmsman was there at
his wheel, And the little mermaid leaned with her white arms on the
rail and looked eastward for a sign of the pink dawni The first ray of
sun, she knew, would kill her. Suddenly she saw her sistets rising out
of the sea. They were pale, like her; no more was their beautiful long
hair fluttering in the windiit had been cut off.
“We have given it to the witch, so that she might help us to save
you from dying when to-night is over. She has given us a knife—look,
here it is—do you see how sharp it is? Befote sunrise you must stab it
into the Prince’s heart. Then, when his warm blood splashes over your
feet, they will grow together into a fish’s tail, and you will become a
mermaid once more; you will be able to come down to us in the water
and live out your three hundred years before being changed into the
dead salt foam of the sea. Make haste! Either he or you must die before
the sun Iisest Our old grandmother has been sorrowing till be! white
hair has fallen away, as ours fell before the witch’s scissorsi Kill the
Ptince and come back to us! But make haste—loolt at that red gleam
in the sky. In a few minutes the sun will rise, and then you must die.”
And with a strange deep sigh they sank beneath the waves.
The little mermaid drew aside the purple curtain of the tent, and
she saw the lovely bride sleeping with her head on the Prince’s breast
She stopped and ltissed his handsome bmw, looked at the sky where
the pink dawn glowed brighter and brighter, looked at the sharp knife
in her hand, and again fixed her eyes on the Prince, who murmured
in his dreams the name of his bride—she alone was in his thoughbi
The knife quivered in the merrnaid’s handAbut then she Hung it fall
out into the waves; they glimmered red where it fell, and what looked
like drops of blood came oozing out of the water. With a last glance at
the Prince from eyes half—dimmed in death she hurled herself from the
ship into the sea and felt her body dissolving into foam.
And now the sun came rising from the sea. lts rays fell gentle and
warm on the death chilled foam, and the little mermaid had no feeling
of death. She saw the bright sun and, hovering above her, hundreds of

232 HANS Ci-nusnm ANDERSEN
lovely Creatures—she could see right through them, see the white sails
0f the ship and the pink clouds in the sky. And their voice was the
voice of melody, yet so spiritual that no human ear could hear it, just
as no earthly eye could see them. They had no wings, but their own
lightness bore them up as they floated through the air, The little mer-
maid saw that she had a body like theirs, raising itself freer and freer
from the foam,
“To whom am I coming?” she asked, and her voice sounded like
that of the other beings, more spiritual than any earthly music can
record.
“To the daughters of the air,” answered the otherst “A mermaid has
no immortal soul and can never have one unless she wins the love of
a mortal, Eternity, for her, depends on a power outside her: Neither
have the daughters of the air an everlasting soul, but by good deeds
they can shape one for themselves. We shall fly to the hot countries,
where the stifling air of pestilence means death to mankind; we shall
bring them cool breezesr We shall scatter the fragrance of flowers
through the air and send them comfort and healing, When for three
hundred years we have striven to do the good we can, then we shall
win an immortal soul and have a share in mankind’s eternal happiness.
You, poor little mermaid, have striven for that with all your heart; you
have suffered and endured, and have raised yourself into the world of
the spirits of the airr Now, by three hundred years of good deeds, you
too can shape for yourself an immortal soulr”
And the little mermaid raised her crystal arms toward God’s sun, and
for the first time she knew the feeling of tears.
On board the ship there was bustle and life once more. She saw the
Prince with his pretty bride looking about for her; sorrowfuily they
stared at the heaving foam, as if they knew she had thrown herself into
the waves. Unseen, she kissed the forehead of the bride, gave a smile
to the Prince, and then with the other children of the air she climbed
to a rose-red cloud that was sailing to the sky
“So we shall float for three hundred years, till at last we come into
the heavenly kingdom.”
“And we may reach it even sooner,” whispered one. “Unseen we
float into human homes where there are children and, for every day
we find a good child who makes father and mother happy and earns
their love, God shortens our time of trial. The child never knows when
we fly through the room and, if that makes us smile with ioy, then a
year is taken away from the three hundred But if we see a child who
is naughty or spiteful, then we have to weep tears of sorrow, and every
tear adds one more day to our time of trial.”

THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL 233
The Little Match Cirli
It was terribly coldi Snow was falling and soon it would be quite
dark; for it was the last day in the year—New Year’s Eve. Along the
street, in that same cold and dark, went a poor little girl in bare feet—
well, yes, it’s true, she had slippers on when she left home; but what
was the good of that? They were great big slippers which her mother
used to wear, so you can imagine the size ofthem; and they both came
off when the little girl scurried across the road just as two carts went
whizzing by at a fearful rater One slipper was not to be found, and a
boy ran offwith the other, saying it would do for a cradle one day when
he had children of his own
So there was the little girl walking along in her bare feet that were
simply blue with cold. In an old apron she was carrying a whole lot of
matches, and she had one bunch of them in her hand. She hadn’t sold
anything all day, and no one had given her a single penny. Poor mite,
she looked so downcast as she trudged along hungry and shivering. The
snowflakes settled on her long flaxen hair, which hung in pretty curls
over her shoulder; but you may be sure she wasn’t thinking about her
looks. Lights were shining in every window, and out into the street
came the lovely smell of roast goose. You see, it was New Year‘s Eve;
that’s what she was thinking about.
Over in a little corner between two hcuses—one of them iutted out
rather more into the street than the other—there she crouched and
huddled with her legs tucked under her; but she only got colder and
colder. She didn‘t dare to go home, for she hadn’t sold a match nor
earned a single penny. Her father would beat her, and besides it was
so cold at home. They had only the bare roof over their heads and the
wind whistled through that although the worst cracks had been stopped
up with rags and straw, Her hands were really quite numb with cold
Ah, but a little match—that would be a comfort If only she dared pull
one out of the bunch, just one, strike it on the wall and warm her
fingers! She pulled one out i , l riteh! l , a how it spirted and blazed!
Such a clear warm flame, like a little candle, as she put her hand round
it—yes, and what a curious light it was! The little girl fancied she was
sitting in front of a big iron stove with shiny brass knobs and brass
facings, with such a warm friendly fire burning . . . why, whatever was
that? She was just stretching out her toes, so as to warm them too,
when—out went the flame, and the stove vanished. There she sat with
a little stub of bumt-cut match in her hand,
She struck another one. It burned up so brightly, and where the
t From Eighty Fairy Tales by Hans chum“ Andersen, trans. R. P. Kci in. Translation copy-
right 9 1976 by Skandinavisk Bogforlag, Flensteds Forlag. Reprints by permission omn.
theon Books, a division of Random House, Inc.

Z34 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
gleam fell on the wall this became transparent like gauze. She could
see right into the room, where the table was laid with a glitteling white
cloth and with delicate china; and there, steaming deliciously, was the
mast goose stuffed with prunes and apples. Then, what was even finer,
the goose jumped off the dish and waddled along the floor with the
carving knife and fork in its back. Right up to the poor little gill it came
. , i but then the match went out, and nothing could be seen but the
massive cold wall.
She lighted another match. Now she was sitting under the loveliest
Chtistrnas tree; it was even bigger and prettier than the one she had
seen through the glass-door at the rich merchant’s at Chtistmas, Hun—
dreds of candles weIe burning on the green branches, and gay-coloured
prints, like the ones they hang in the shop-windows, looked down at
her. The little girl reached up both her hands i . , then the match went
out; all the Christmas candles rose higher and higher, until now she
could see they were the shining stars. One of them rushed down the
sky with a long fiery streak
“That’s somebody dying,” said the little girl, for her dead Grannie,
who was the only one who had been kind to her, had told her that a
falling star shows that a soul is going up to God
She struck yet another match on the walli it gave a glow all around,
and there in the midst of it stood her old grandmother, looking so very
bright and gentle and loving. “Oh, Giannie”, cried the little gitl, “do
take me with you! I know you’ll disappear as soon as the match goes
out—iust as the warm stove did, and the lovely roast goose, and the
wonderful great Christmas—treei” And she quickly struck the rest of the
matches in the bunch, for she did so want to keep her Crannie there.
And the matches flared up so gloriously that it became brighter than
broad daylight, Never had Grannie looked so tall and beautiful. She
took the little girl into her arms, and together they flew in joy and
splendour, up, up, to where there was no cold, no hunger, no fear.
They weIe with God
But in the cold early morning huddled between the two houses, sat
the little girl with rosy cheeks and a smile on her lips, frozen to death
on the last night of the old year. The New Year dawned on the little
dead body leaning there with the matches, one lot of them nearly all
used up. “She was trying to get warm,” people said, Nobody ltnew what
lovely things she had seen and in what glory she had gone with het
old Grannie to the happiness of the New Year.

THE GIRL WHO T1101) ON THE LOAF 235
The Girl Who Trod on the Loaf’r
I expect you’ve heard of the girl who trod on the loaf so as not to
dirty her shoes, and of how she came to a had end. The story’s been
written, and printed too.
She was a poor child, proud and vain; there was a bad streak in her,
as the saying is When quite a little child she enjoyed catching flies
and pulling off their wings, so making creeping things of them, She
would take a cockchafet and a beetle, stick each of them on a pin, and
then place a green leaf or a little bit of paper up against their feet The
poor creature would hold on tight to it, turning and twisting it to try
and get off the pine
“Now the cockchafer’s reading,” said little Inger. “Look how it’s turn-
ing over the page,”
As she grew older, she got worse Iather than better; but she was very
pretty, and that was her misfortune, for otherwise she‘d have been
slapped a good deal oftener than she was.
“It’ll need a desperate remedy to cure your disease,” said her own
mothert “Often, when you were little, you trod on my apron; now
you’re older, I’m afraid you’ll end by heading on my heart.”
And, sure enough, she did.
She now went out to service with a good family who lived in the
country‘ They treated he! as if she was their own child and dressed her
in the same way; she was very goodlooking, and she grew vainer than
ever.
After she had been with them for a year, her mistress said to hert
“Don’t you think you ought to go some time and see your patents,
Inger dear?”
So she went, though it was only to show herself oft and let them see
how fine she had become But when she got to the outskirts of the
town and saw some girls and young fellows gossiping together by the
pond and her mother, too, resting on a stone with a bundle of faggots
she had gathered in the wood, she felt ashamed that she who was so
finely dIessed should have a mother who went about in rags collecting
sticks. She wasn’t in the least sorry at having to turn back; she was only
annoyed.
And now another six months went by,
“You really ought to go home one day and see your old father and
mothet, Inger dear,” said her mistress. ”Look—here’s a big white loaf;
you can take that with you. They’ll be so glad to see you,”
t From Eighty Fairy Tales by Hans Christian Andenen, mus. R. P, Keilgwin. Translation copy-
nyn o 1976 17y Skandimvisk Eagforlag, Flensteds Forlagv Reptinte by permission of Pan-
Iheon Books, a division of Random House, inc.

236 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
So Inger put on her best things and her new shoes, and she caught
up heI skirt and looked well where she was going, so as to keep heI
shoes nice and clean; and of coutse she couldn’t be blamed fat that.
But when she came to where the path led acmss marshy ground and
thete was a long sttip of puddles and slush, she flung the loaf down
into the mud, so as to tread on this and get across without wetting her
shoes. But as she stood with one foot on the loaf and lifted the othet,
the loaf sank down with her deeper and deeper, and she disappeared
altogether, till there was nothing to be seen but a black bubbling
swamp.
That’s the story.
What became of her? She came down to the maIsh-woman, who
goes in for brewing‘ The marsh~woman is aunt to the eIf-maids; they
are well enough known—they’ve had ballads written about them and
pictures drawn of them. But all that people know about the marsh~
woman is that, when the meadows are steaming in summet, that’s the
marsh—woman brewing. It was down into her btewery that Inger sank,
and that’s not a place you can stand for long. A cesspit is a gay palatial
apartment compared with the marsh-woman’s brewery. Every vat stinks
enough to make a man faint and, besides, the vats are all pressed up
against each other; and if there is somewhere a little gap between them
through which you might squeeze yourself out, you can’t do it because
of all the slimy toads and fat snakes that get entangled here togetheL
This was whete Inger sank down. All that nasty living mess was so icy
cold that she shuddeted in every limb, and it made heI mote and more
stiff and numbi The loaf still clung to her feet and dragged her on, just
as an amber button may drag a bit of straw.
The maIsh-woman was at home; the brewery that day was being
inspected by the Devil and his great—granclmother, an extemely ven—
omous old female who is never idle. She neveI goes out without her
needlework, and she had it with heI now. She had heI pin—cushion
with her, so as to give people pins and needles in their legs She em—
btoideted lies and did cmchet fmm rash Iemarlts that had fallen to the
ground—anything, in fact, that could lead to injury and conuptiont Oh
yes, she knew all about sewing, embmidery and crochet work did old
great—granny.
She caught sight of Inger, put on her spectacles and then had another
look at her. “That’s a girl with talent,” she said. “I’d like hit as a
memento of my visit here. She will do very well as a statue fot my
great-grandson’s enhance-hall,”
And she got herl In this way Inger came to hell‘ People can’t always
go straight down, but they can get there by a roundabout way if they
have talent,
It was an entrance-hall that never seemed to end. It made you giddy
to look ahead and giddy to look back. And then there was a forlom

THE Gm. WHO T1100 ON THE LOAF 237
crowd waiting for the door of mercy to be opened; they might have to
wait a long time, Great fat waddling spiders spun a thousand-year web
over their feet, and these toils cut into the feet like screws and clamped
them like copper chains; and, added to this, there was a never—ending
disquiet in every soul, a disquiet that was itself a torment. Among them
was the miser who had lost the key of his safe and now remembered
he had left it in the lock But there—it would take too long to go
through all the different pains and torments that were felt there. Inger
felt that it was ghastly to be standing as a statue; she was just as though
riveted from below to the loafi
“This comes of taking care to keep your shoes clean,” she said to
herself, “Look how they’re smring at me”—and, it’s true, they Were all
looking at her. Their evil passions gleamed from their eyes and spoke
silently from the corners of their mouths; they were a horrible sight.
“I must be delightful to look at,” thought Inger. ”I have a pretty face
and nice clothes,” and then she turned her eyes—her neck was too stiff
for that to be turned Goodness, how dirty she had got in the marsh—
woman’s brewhouse! She hadn’t thought of that Her clothes seemed
to be smeared over with one great blotch of slime; a snake had got
caught in her hair and was dangling down her neck, and from each
fold in her dress a toad peeped out with a Croak like the bark of a
wheezy pug—dog. It was most unpleasant, “Still,” she consoled herself,
“the others down here really look iust as dreadful,”
Worst of all was the terrible hunger she felt Couldn’t she at least
stoop down and break offa bit of the loaf she was standing on? No, for
her back had stiflened, her arms and hands had stiffened, her whole
body was like a stone pillar; all she could turn were the eyes in her
head, turn them right round, so that they could see backwards~and
that was a ghastly sight, that was. Then the flies came and crawled over
her eyes, to and fro, She blinked her eyes, but the flies didn‘t fly away;
they couldn’t, because their wings had been pulled off and they had
become creeping things. That was torment for her, and as for her
hunger—well, at last she felt that her innards were eating themselves
up, and she became quite empty inside, so appallingly empty.
“If it goes on much longer, I shan’t be able to bear it,” she said; but
she had to bear it, and it still went on,
Then a burning tear fell on her head. It trickled down her face and
breast right down to the loaf. Another tear felI—and many more beside
Who was it crying over Inger? Well, hadn’t she up on earth a mother?
Sorrowing tears that a mother sheds for her Child will always reach it,
but they don’t set it free; they burn, they only make the torment greater.
And now this unbearable hunger—and not to be able to get at the loaf
she was heading with her foot! At last she got a feeling that everything
inside her must have eaten itself up She was like a thin hollow reed
that drew every sound inside it. She could hear distinctly everything up

238 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
on earth that concerned her, and what she heard was harsh and spiteful.
Her mother, to be sure, wept in deep sorrow, but she added, “Pride
goes before a fall—that was your misfortune, Inger. How you have
grieved your mother!”
Her mother and all the others up there knew about her sin, how she
had trodden on the loaf and had sunk down and disappeared. The cow»
herd had told them, for he had seen it all himself from the slope
“How you have grieved your mother, Inger!” said the mother. ”Yes,
and I always felt you would‘”
“I wish I had never been born,” thought Inger. “It would have been
far better. What’s the good now of my mother snivelling like that?”
Inger heard how her master and mistress were speaking, those two
good-natured people who had been like father and mother to her: “She
was a wicked child,” they said. “She had no respect for God’s gifts, but
trod them underfoot; the door of mercy will be hard for her to open.”
“They should have corrected me more often,” thought Inger, ”cured
me of my bad ways ifI had any.”
She heard that a whole ballad about her had been brought out—The
proud young girl who trod on the loaf to save her pretty shoes—and it
was sung all over the country‘
“To think of being blamed so much for it and suffering so much for
it,” thought Inger. “Why aren’t the others punished for what they’ve
done? Yes, and what a lot there would be to punish! Ooh, how I’m
tormented!”
And her heart grew even harder than her shell.
“I shall never get any better while I’m down here in this company,
and I don’t want to get any better. Look how they’re glaring”
And she fell angry and vicious towards all mankind.
“Now I dare say they’ll have something to talk about up there—ooh,
how I’m tormented!”
And she heard them telling her story to the children, and the little
ones called her Wicked Inger, “She was so horrid,” they said, “so nasty,
she deserves to be well punished.”
There were nothing but hard words against her in children’s mouths.
And yet one day, as hunger and resentment were gnawing deep in
her hollow shell and she heard her name mentioned and her story told
to an innocent child, a small girl, she noticed that the little one burst
into tears at the story of the proud Inger and her love of finery.
“But won’t she ever come up again?” asked the small girlr And she
was told, “No, she‘ll never come up again.”
“Yes, but if she will ask to be forgiven and promise never to do it
again?”
“But she won’t ask to be forgiven,” they told the child.
“Oh, I do wish she would,” said the little girl, and refused to be

THE GIRL WHO TROD ON THE LOAF 239
comforted “I’ll give up my doll’s house, if they let her come up. It’s
so horrible for poor Inger.”
These words went right down into Inger’s heart; they seemed to do
her good. It was the first time anyone had said ”poor Inger” without
adding the least thing about her faults, An innocent little child cried
and pleaded for her; it gave her such a queer feeling that she would
like to have cried herself, but she couldn’t cry, and that too was a
torment
As the years passed by up there—there were no changes belowAshe
heard sounds from above less often and there was less talk about her.
Then one day she heard a sigh, “Inger, Inger, what sorrow you have
brought me! I always said you would.” It was her mother dyingr
Sometimes she heard her name mentioned by her old master and
mistress, and the mildest remark was when the housewife said, “I won-
der if I shall ever see you again, Inger. There’s no knowing what may
become of ones”
But Inger knew well enough that her honest mistress never could
come where she was.
In that way another long and bitter time went by. Then Inger again
heard her name spoken and saw above what seemed to be two bright
stars shining. They were two gentle eyes that were closing on earth So
many years had passed since the time when the small girl cried incon»
solably for “poor Inger” that the child had now become an old woman,
whom God would soon be calling to himself; and at that very moment,
when the thoughts of her whole life were rising before her, she also
remembered how as a little child she couldn‘t help crying bitterly when
she heard the story about Inger. That time and the impression it made
on her stood so vividly before the old woman in her hour of death that
she burst out aloud, “Lord, my God, haven’t I too, like Inger, sometimes
trodden thoughtlessly on the blessings you gave? Haven’t I, too, gone
with pride in my heart? And yet you, in your mercy, did not let me
sink, held me up Do not abandon me in my last hour.”
And her old eyes closed, and the soul’s eyes opened to what lies
hidden; and as Inger was there so vividly in her last thoughts, she saw
Inger—saw to what depths she had been dragged down—and at the
sight of her the saintly soul burst into tears She stood like a child in
the kingdom of heaven and wept for poor Inger; her tears and prayers
rang like an echo down into the hollow empty shell that hemmed in
the imprisoned tormented soul, and it was overcome by all this un»
dreamed aflection from above. To think that an angel of God should
be weeping for her! Why was she granted this favour? The tortured soul
seemed to gather up into its thoughts every deed it had ever done in
its life on earth, and it shock with weeping; Inger could never have
wept like that She was filled with sorrow for herself, and she felt that

Z40 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
nevet could the gate of mercy be opened for her. As in her contrite
heart she realized this, at that moment a beam of light flashed down
into the bottomless pit—a beam stronger even than the sunbeam that
thaws the snowman made by the boys in the yard, Then, far quicker
than the snowflake falling on a child’s warm lips melts away to a drop,
lnger’s stiffened stony figure evaporated; a little bird soared like fotked
lightning up towards the world of men. But it was timid and shy of
everything near; it felt ashamed of itself in the sight of all living crea-
tures and hurriedly looked for shelter in a dark hole, and found it in a
crumbling wall, Here it perched cowering and trembling all over with
out uttering a sound, for it had no voice It stayed there a long while
before it felt calm enough to see and appteciate all the beauty that lay
before it. Yes, indeed, beauty there was. The air was so fresh and genial,
the moon shone so bright, trees and shrubs smelt sweet; and then the
spot where it perched was so cosy, its feather coat so clean and delicate.
What a revelation of love and splendour in all created things! All the
thoughts stirring in the heart of the bird strove to find utterance in
song, but the bird didn’t know how. It would have liked to sing as the
cuckoo and nightingale do in spring‘ God, who also hears the worrn’s
silent song of praise, hearkened now to the song of praise that rose in
harmonies of thought, just as a psalm used t0 ring in David’s heart
before it found words and music.
For days and weeks these noiseless songs grew and grew; surely they
must break out at the first beat of wings in a good deed; such a deed
must now be done,
The holy festival of Christmas was here. The farmer put up a pole
close against the wall and tied on it an unthreshed bundle of cats, so
that the birds of the air might also have a merry Christmas and a
cheerful dinner at this season of the Saviour’s.
And the sun rose up on Christmas morning and Shane on to the
sheaf of oats, and all the twittering birds flew round the dinnerpolet
Then, too, a “tweet, tweet!” sounded from the wall The swelling
thought turned into sound; the feeble chirp became a whole paean of
joy The idea ofa good deed had awakened, and the bird flew out from
its hiding—place. ln heaven they knew well enough the kind of bird it
was.
Winter began in earnest, the waters were frozen deep, and birds and
forest animals were often pinched for food. The little bird flew along
the high road and there in the tracks of the sledges it managed to find,
in places, a grain of corn. At coaching inns it might come across a few
bteaderumbs, but would only eat one ofthese and then let all the other
tarnishing sparrows know that here they could find food. It also flew to
the towns, scouted around, and wherever a kind hand had scattered
crumbs from the window for the birds, it ate only a single crumb itself
and gave the rest to the others.

THE RED SHOES 241
In the course of the winter the bird had collected and given away so
many cmrnbs that the weight of them all would have equalled that of
the whole loaf that Inger had trodden on so as not to dirty her shoes;
and when the last crumb had been found and given away, the bird’s
grey wings turned white and spread themselves out
“Look! There’s a tern flying off across the lake,” cried the children
who saw the white bird. First, it dipped down on to the lake, then it
rose into the bright sunshine; the bird was so dazzling white that there
was no chance of seeing what became of it. They said that it flew
straight into the sun.
The Red Shoest
There was once a little girl, very delicate and pretty, and yet so poor
that in summer she always had to go barefooted and in winter she had
to wear big wooden clogs which chafed her insteps most horribly, until
they were quite red,
In the middle of the village lived a shoemaker’s widow, who had
some strips of old red cloth, and out of these she did her best to sew a
little pair of shoes. They were rather clumsy—looking shoes, but the old
widow meant well; they were for the little girl, whose name was Karena
As it happened, she got the red shoes and put them on for the first
time on the very day that her mother was buried, Of course they weren’t
exactly the right shoes for a funeral, but they were the only ones she
had; and so she wore them on her bare feet, as she followed the humble
straw coffin.
Iust then a large old-looking carriage drove up with a large old-
looking lady inside it‘ She caught sight of the little girl and felt sorry
for her. So she said to the parson: “Look here, if you let me have the
little girl, I‘ll take care of her.”
Karen thought this was all because of the red shoes, but the old lady
said they were hideous and had them burnt; Karen herself was given
nice new clothes and was taught to read and sew. People said how
pretty she was, but the looking—glass said to her: “You are more than
pretty, you are lovely.”
On one occasion the Queen was passing through the country with
her little daughter, who was a Princess, People flocked around the eas-
tle, and Karen was there too; and the little Princess showed herself at
one of the windows She was wearing a beautiful white dress; no train
nor golden crown, but lovely red morocco shoes—far, far prettier than
t From Eighty Fairy Tale: by Hans Christian Andersen, Inns. R. P. Keigwin. Translation
copyright 9 ms by Shndinavlsk Bogforlzg, Flensteds Follzg. Reprinted by pelmission
at Pantheon Books, a division of Random House, Inc.

Z42 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
the ones the shoemaker‘s widow had made for little Karen, No, there
was really nothing in the world like red shoes
But now Karen was old enough to be confirmed She was given new
clothes, and she was also to have new shoes. The best shoemaker in
town took the measurement of her feet in his own private room, where
there were big glass cabinets with elegant shoes and shiny boots, They
made a brave shoe, but the old lady’s sight was far from good, and so
it gave her no pleasure Among the shoes was a red pair iust like the
ones the Princess had been wearing—oh, they were pretty! The shoe-
maker explained that they had been made for an earl’s daughter but
didn’t quite fit “That must be patent leather from the way they shine,”
said the old lady.
“Yes, don’t they shine!” said Karen; and as they were a good fit, the
shoes were bought. But the old lady didn’t realize that they were red,
for she would never have allowed Karen to go to Confirmation in red
shoes. And yet that’s just what happened
Everybody stared at her feet and, as she walked up the aisle to the
chancel, she felt that even the old pictures over the tombs, those por-
traits of the clergy and their wives in stiff ruffs and long black garments,
were fastening their eyes on the red shoes, It was these that filled her
thoughts, when the priest laid his hand on her head and spoke of holy
baptism, of the covenant with God, and of her duty now to become a
fully—fiedged Christian. And the organ played so solemnly, and the chil-
dren sang so beautifully, and the old Choirmaster sang, too; but Karen
thought of nothing but her red shoesr
By the afternoon, sure enough, the old lady had heard from every-
body about the shoes being red, and she said how shocking it was; they
were quite out of place and in future, when Karen went to church, she
must always wear black shoes, however old they were
Next Sunday there was Communion, and Karen looked at the black
shoes, and she looked at the red ones . , , And then she looked at the
red ones again—and put the red ones on.
It was a beautiful sunny day. Karen and the old lady took the path
through the cornfield, where it was a bit dusty. At the churchdoor stood
an old soldier with a crutch and a funny long beard which was more
red than white—in fact, it really was red, He made a deep bow to the
old lady and asked if he might dust her shoes And when Karen also
put out her foot, “My! what lovely dancingshoes!” said the soldier. “Stay
on tight when you dance!” and he gave the soles a tap with his hand.
The old lady gave the soldier something for himself and went with
Karen into the church. The whole congregation stared at Karen’s red
shoes, and so did all the portraits; and when Karen knelt before the
altar and put the gold Chalice to her lips, she thought of nothing but
the red shoes—it seemed as if they were floating in front of her. She
forgot to sing the hymns, and she forgot to say the prayers.

THE RED SHOES 243
Presently everyone came out of church, and the old lady stepped
into her carriage, As Karen raised her foot to get in aftel her, the old
soldier, who was standing close by, said: “My! what lovely dancing-
shoes!” Karen couldn’t resist—she had to dance a few steps and, once
she had started, her feet went on dancing just as though the shoes had
some power over them. She danced round the comer of the church—
she couldn’t stop; the coachman had to run after her and pick her up
and carry her back into the carriage. But still her feet went on dancing
and gave the kind old lady some dreadful kicks. At last they got the
shoes 0H, and her legs kept still.
When they came home, the shoes were put away in a cupboard, but
Karen still kept taking a peep at them. By and by the old lady fell ill;
it was said she would never get better. She had to be nursed and cared
for, and nobody was more suited for this than Karen. But a big ball was
being given in the town, and Karen was invited. She looked at the old
lady, who after all couldn’t live long, and she looked at the red shoes.
She couldn‘t see there would be any harm. She put on the red shoes,
she had a perfect right to do that l . l But then she went to the ball
and began to dance
But when she wanted to go to the right, the shoes went dancing off
to the left; and when she wanted to go up the room, the shoes went
dancing down the morn—down the stairs thmugh the street and out by
the town-gate‘ Dance she did and dance she must, away into the dark
foresti
Up among the trees she saw something shiningi It looked like a face,
and so she thought it was the moon; but it was the old soldier with the
red beard, sitting and nodding and saying: “My! what lovely dancing-
shoes!”
This made her frightened, and she tried to kick off the red shoes,
but they still stuelt on tight. She tore off he! stockings, but the shoes
had grown fast to hei feet, and so dance she did and dance she must,
over field and furmw, in rain and sun, by night and day; but the night-
time was the worst.
She danced into the open churchyard, but the dead there didn’t
dance; they had something bettei to do. She wanted to sit down by the
poor man’s grave, where the bitter tansy grew; but peace and quiet wele
not for her and, when she danced towards the open church-door, she
found an angel there in long white robes and with wings reaching from
his shoulders to the ground. His face was stern and solemn, and in his
hand he held a sword with broad shining blade.
“Dance you shall,” said the angel, “dance in your red shoes until
you are cold and pale, until your skin shrivels up like a skeleton’s!
Dance you shall from door to door, and at all the houses where the
childien are vain and proud you shall knock till they heat you and are
frightened. You shall dance, you shall dance . , , l”

244 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
“Mercy! Mercy!” ctied Karent But she never head the angel’s an»
swer, for the shoes whirled her away through the gate and the field,
along highway and byway, dancing, dancing, all the time
One morning she danced past a door she knew well. From inside
came the sound of a hymn; then out came a coffin all covered with
flowers. She realized then that the old lady was dead, and she felt that
now she was deserted by everyone, as well as cursed by the angel of
(3011
Dance she did and dance she must, dance on in the dark night . t t
The shoes whirled her away over thorns and stubble, until she was
scratched and bleeding. She danced across the heath up to a lonely
little house She knew that the executioner lived here, and she tapped
the window—pane with her knuckles and said: “Please come out! I can’t
come in, because I’m dancing.”
“Do you mean to say you don’t know who I am? I cut off wicked
people’s heads—my goodness, how my axe is quivering!”
“Please don’t cut off my head!” said Karen, “for then I can‘t show
that I’m sorry for my sins. Cut off my feet with the led shoes.”
Then she confessed all her sins, and the executioner cut off her feet
with the red shoes. But the shoes went dancing with the little feet actoss
the fields into the depths of the forest. And he made her wooden feet
and crutches; he taught her a hymn—the Psalm for Sinners—and she
kissed the hand that had wielded the axe and went het way across the
heath.
“Surely by now I must have done penance for the red shoes,” she
said. “I’ll go to church and let everyone see me.” And she did; she
went quickly towards the church-door but, when she reached it, there
wete the red shoes dancing in front of her, and she grew frightened
and turned back
All the next week she was miserable and did nothing but cry, but
when Sunday came round she said to herself: “Dear me, I really feel
I’ve been through enought Surely I’m just as good as many of those
that sit so perkily there in church.” And she plucked up heI courage
and started off, but she got no further than the gate, when she saw the
red shoes dancing in front of her, and she grew frightened and tumed
back and repented deeply of her sins.
Next she made her way to the palsonage and asked to be taken in
there as a servant; she would work so hard and do her very best She
never gave a thought to the wages, only that she might have a roof over
her head and be with kind people,
The parson’s wife felt sorry for her and took her into her service and
found heI haId-wotking and sensible, In the evenings Karen sat and
listened in silence, while the parson Iead aloud from the Bible. All the
little ones were very fond of heI but, when there was mlk of dress and
finery and of being as pretty as a pictute, she would shake her head

THE RED SHOES 245
The following Sunday they all went to Church, and they asked her
to go with them; but with tears in hei eyes she looked sadly at her
crutches and, when the others went off to heat the word of God, she
went alone to her tiny room, where there was just enough space for a
bed and a chair, and here she sat devoutly reading her prayerbooki As
she did so, the wind brought the sound of the organ to her fiom the
church, and her eyes filled with tears as she lifted up her face, exclaim-
ing: ”Help me, O God”!
Then the sun came out so brightly, and shaight in hunt of her stood
the same angel in white robes that she had seen that night at the
chureh-door. But instead of the sharp swotd he was holding a beautiful
green hough that was coveted with roses; and he touched the ceiling
with it so that it arched itself higher, and where he touched it there
shone a golden star. And he touched the walls so that they grew wider;
and she saw the organ which was still playing, she saw the old pictures
of the clergy and their wives, and the congregation sitting in the carved
pews and singing from their hymn-books . . i You see, the church itself
had come to the poor girl in her narrow little room—ol was it she who
had come to the church? She was sitting in the pew with all the others
from the parsonage and, when they had finished the hymn and looked
up from their books, they nodded to her and said: “It was right you
should come, Karen,” “It was God’s mercy!” she answered,
And the oigan pealed forth and the young voices of the choii
sounded so soft and pure. The biight warm sunshine streamed in
through the churchvwindow to the place where Karen was sitting. Her
heart was so full of sunshine and peace and joy that at last it broke,
and hei soul fiew on the sunbeams to heaven, where theie was no one
to ask about the red shoes.

INTRODUCTION: Oscar Wilde

It is hard to imagine that a write! who believed that his “first duty in
life” was to be “as artificial as possible” would have turned to the genre
of the fairy tale.l But Oscar Wilde has never been known for his con-
sistency, and this teller of tales found in fairy tales a congenial vehicle
{01 displaying the flip slide to his natlual talent fox inventive satire and
corruscating wit. Admiieis of Wilde’s urbane and sophisticated piose
have anxiously tried to explain the interest in writing fairy tales as the
symptom of a developmental defect, of a perverse sexuality, or of an
identity confusion One critic claims that Wilde was dtawn t0 fairy tales
because he was ”emotionally undeveloped”; a second attributes his de-
cision to embiace the genie to “homosexual tendencies”; and a third
traces the engagement with fairy tales to “sexual ambivalence.”Z The
literary “degeneration” seen to manifest itself in Wilde’s fairy tales has
even been explicitly and directly linked to homosexual practices:
“Something had happened to Wilde He met Mr. Robett Baldwin R0551
The effect of this unfortunate encounter is to be seen in Wilde’s work
1 The Happy Prince appeared in 1888; and was followed up in the
year 1891, when Wilde made his second unfortunate friendship, with
Lord Alfred Douglas, by The House of Pomegranatw . , , There is
nothing here for exultatimm”z
That Wilde’s fairy tales are considered aesthetically and ethically sus-
pect (one critic finds theii style “fleshy” and unsuitable for childien)
seems peculiar in light of their emphatic articulation of moral truths}
The same author who recited with glee such dandyish maxims as “To
love oneself is the beginning of a life—long romance” embedded in his
fairy tales stinging critiques of boorish self-absorption, willful selfishness,
and brazen gieed, Wilde clearly modeled his stories more on Ander-
sen’s literary tales, with their ostentatious moral pronouncements and
Bracketed page numbers refer ta this Norton Clitica] Edition.
1. Alvin Redman, «1., The Efiigrams amsm Wilde (London: Alvin Redman, 1952) 116.
z, “Emotionally undeveloped”: Hcskelh Pearson, The Life of 01m Wilde (London: Mcthucn,
1946) H]: “homosexual tendencies”: Leon Lémannier, Oscar Wilde (Paris: Didier, I933)
122; ”sexual ambiwlence”. Rubcrt Metle, Oscar Wilde (Paris: Ediltons, 1948) 2611
1. 51.113111 Ewinc, 01m Wilde: A P1212111 ‘nme Appraisal (New Yurlt: William Monow, 1952)
4. 11:11:11 ofA 1101111110111.” 1111111111 by om1w11d¢ PallMaIlCazem 1: 11111111111111 Man:
1211115111., The Language0151111111111 Oscar Wildes T115, 111 AugIn111111 111111111111 um
amm, ed Bitgit Bramsbick an Manin Cmghan(Stockholm: Almqvist 2nd Wiksell and
Bromsba’ck 1985) 167
246

INTRODUCTION 247
their displays of pious self—denial, than on the Irish folklore that his
mother collected. The kinship between Wilde’s tales and Andersen’s
stories did not escape contemporary reviewers, who found Wilde to be
writing “somewhat after the manner of Hans Andersen,” whose works
had been available in English translation since 1846‘5 That Wilde
deeply tespected the Danish writer becomes evident from “The Fish-
erman and His Soul” (clearly inspired by “The Little Mermaid”) and
by the unmistakable tribute to “The Little Match Girl” in one of the
many visions of human misery in “The Happy Prince”
in a note to his friend C. H. Kersely, Wilde commented on the
implied audience for his collection. The tales, he insisted, were “an
attempt to mirror modern life in a form remote from reality,” Conced‘
ing that the stories were meant “partly for children,” Wilde in the same
breath declared the tales to be “slight and fanciful, and written, not for
children, but for childlike people from eighteen to eighty!”6
Why would Wilde exclude children from his implied audience, as
he ultimately does in setting a lower limit of eighteen years for the
stories? Wilde, like Andersen, may have begun some of his fairy tales
with the phrase ”Once upon a time,” but he never ended them with
“They lived happily ever afteri” In fact, almost every story culminates
in death. The statue of the “Happy Prince” is razed. After his conver—
sion, the “Selfish Giant” is found “lying dead i . . all covered with
white blossoms” [253]. The selfvsacrificing little Hans in “The Devoted
Friend” is found drowned, floating in a ditch l‘The Fisherman and his
Soul” ends with the death of both mermaid and fisherman. The dwarf
enamored of a princess in “The Birthday of the lnfanta” dies of a
broken heart. Even the eponymous hero of the “Remarkable Rocket”
expires, without a trace of the glory to which he aspirest
No fairy tale by Wilde is more expansive in its description of the
mortal agony of death throes than “The Nightingale and the Roses”
Hoping to produce a red rose of unsurpassed beauty for a lovelom
student, a nightingale sings all night, with its breast pressed against the
thorn of a rosebush:
The nightingale pressed closer against the thorn, and the thorn
touched her heart, and a fierce pang of pain shot through her,
Bitter, bitter was the pain, and wilder and wilder grew her song,
for she sang of the Love that is perfected by Death, of the Love
that dies not in the tomb. [264]
The songbird‘s bid for a love of transcendent beauty becomes a form
of sacrificial suffering, missing its mark (for the student and his beloved
have no emotional depth whatsoever) but leading to the expression of
5V Nurbert Kohl, Oscar Wilde: The Wm; of a Confonnirt Rebel, trans. David Henry Wilson
(Cambridge: Cambrigée UP, 1989) 58.
6‘ Th: Lettm ofOscar ilde, ed. Rupert Hart»Davis (london: Rupert Hart»Davis, 1962) 219.

Z48 OSCAR WILDE
her own peerless longing for spiritual release. Beauty, if not salvation,
emerges from passionate seltisacrificey which often takes the form of
modification of the flesh.
“There is no Mystery as great as Misery,” the Happy Prince confides
to a swallow. “You tell me of marvelous things,” he avows, ”but more
marvelous than anything is the suffering of men and of women” [259].
That there is something sacred about anguish, grief, and distress is not
an argument one expects to hear in a fairy tale. Even more surprising,
especially from the hand of an artist why has been seen as an apostle
of art and artifice, is the celebration of the unsightly, bizarre, and gro-
tesque in a genre traditionally directed at children. In ”The Birthday
of the Infanta,” what is conventionally beautiful becomes rank and
fetid: “The pomegranates split and cracked with the heat, and showed
their bleeding hearts.” The grotesque has the power to vanquish beauty,
as becomes evident when the dwarf in that story discovers his mirror
image:
Of all the rooms this was the brightest and the most beautiful The
walls were covered with a pink-fiowered Lucca damask, patterned
with birds and dotted with dainty blossoms of silver; the furniture
was of massive silver, festooned with florid wreaths, and swinging
Cupids; in front of the two large fire—places stood great screens
broidered with parrots and peacocks, and the floor, which was
of sea-green onyx, seemed to stretch far away into the distance.
Nor was he alone. Standing under the shadow of the doorway,
at the extreme and of the room, he saw a little figure watching
himr , r .
It was a monster, the most grotesque monster he had ever be-
held. Not properly shaped as all other people were, but hunch»
backed, and crooked-limbed, with a huge tolling head and mane
of black hair.7
The elaborate spatial description is not merely a foil to the dwarf’s
hideous appearance, it also frames him, turning him into an icon of
abject despair, foregrounded by his startling ugliness The monster in
the mirror is as riveting to the reader as it is to the dwarf, and the
enthralling spectacle of the misshapen body becomes a powerful mag»
net of narrative interest.
Hans Christian Andersen might have seen in the dwarf’s afflictions
a moment of pure transcendent suffering, but Wilde deflates such ex-
pectations in the coda to his stories. When the Spanish infanta learns
that the dwarf’s heart has broken in two, she curls her lip “in pretty
disdain” and declares: “For the future let those who come to play with
me have no hearts.”8 Just as the dwarf’s deformed body becomes the
7, Oscar Wilde, “The Birthday of the lnfanta,” in Camplzte Short Fiction, ed. Ian Small (New
York: Penguin, 1994) 97, 112V
8′ Wllde, “Birthday,” 114i

250 OSCAR WILDE
“Charity creates a multitude of sins,” Wilde declared in “The Soul
of Man under Socialism.N “The Star-Child,” which ends with the
death of the title figure, reveals the ephemeral nature of deeds moti-
vated by compassion and suggests that it takes more than a single savior
to redeem mankind The StarChild may usher in an era of“peace and
plentyIn the land” but he does not rule for long: “After the space of
three years he died. And he who came after him ruled evilly”5 lfWilde
himself really believed that “the people who do most harm are the
people who try to do the most good,”6 then the efforts of the Happy
Prince, the Selfish Giant, and the prodigal nightingale to alleviate mis-
ery and heartache are in vain, That the world is more likely to be
improved by resisting the impulse to demonstrate charity and compas-
sion may have been a lesson preached in “The Soul of Man under
Socialism,” but it did not carry over perfectly into Wilde’s literary prac»
tice, where altruistic impulses remain stubbornly admirable even if they
do not improve matters in the grand scheme of things.
The Selfish Ciantt
Every afternoon, as they were coming from school, the children used
to go and play in the Giants garden,
It was a large lovely garden, with soft green grass. Here and there
over the grass stood beautiful flowers like stars, and there were twelve
peach-trees that in the spring—time broke out into delicate blossoms of
pink and pearl, and in the autumn bore rich fruit. The birds sat on the
trees and sang so sweetly that the children used to stop their games in
order to listen to them. “How happy we are here!” they cried to each
other.
One day the Giant came back. He had been to visit his friend the
Cornish ogre, and had stayed with him for seven years, After the seven
years were over he had said all that he had to say, for his conversation
was limited, and he determined to retum to his own castle. When he
arrived he saw the children playing in the garden.
“What are you doing here?” he criedIn a very gruff voice and the
children ran away.
“My own garden is my own garden,” said the Giant“any one can
understand thaty and I will allow nobody to play in it but myself.” So
he built a high wall all round it, and put up a notice-board.
4. Wilde, “Soul,” 256,
5. Oscar Wilde, “The StarChIld,” in Complete, 164‘
6. Wilde, “Soul,” 256
t From Oscar Wilde: Campletz Slmrt Fiction, ed. Ian Small (London: Penguin Book, 1994)

Z 52 OSCAR WILDE
the North Wind ceased roaring, and a delicious perfume came to him
through the open casement. “I believe the Spring has come at last,”
said the Giant; and he jumped out of bed and looked out
What did he see?
He saw a most wonderful sight, Through a IittIe hole in the wall the
children had crept in, and they were sitting in the branches ofthe trees.
In every tree that he could see there was a little child, And the trees
were so gIad to have the children back again that they had covered
themselves with blossoms, and were waving their arms gently above the
children’s heads. The birds were flying about and twittering with
delight, and the flowers were looking up through the green grass and
laughing, It was a lovely scene, only in one corner it was still Winter.
It was the farthest comer of the garden, and in it was standing a little
boy He was so smaII that he could not reach up to the branches of
the tree, and he was wandering all round it, crying bitterly. The poor
tree was still quite covered with frost and snow, and the North Wind
was blowing and rearing above it. “Climb up! little boy,” said the Tree,
and it bent its branches down as low as it could; but the boy was too
tiny.
And the Giant’s heart melted as he looked out “How selfish I have
been!” he said; “now I know why the Spring would not come here. I
will put that poor little boy on the top of the tree, and then I will knock
down the wall, and my garden shall be the children’s playground for
ever and everr” He was really very sorry for what he had done
So he crept downstairs and opened the front door quite softly, and
went out into the garden. But when the children saw him they were
so frightened that they all ran away, and the garden became Winter
againr Only the little boy did not run, for his eyes were so full of tears
that he did not see the Giant comingr And the Giant stoIe up behind
him and took him gently in his hand, and put him up into the tree.
And the tree broke at once into blossom, and the birds came and sang
on it, and the little boy stretched out his two arms and flung them
round the Giants neck, and kissed him. And the other children, when
they saw that the Giant was not wicked any Ionger, came running back,
and with them came the Spring. “It is your garden now, little children,”
said the Giant, and he took a great axe and knocked down the wall.
And when the people were going to market at twelve o’clock they found
the Giant playing with the children in the most beautiful garden they
had ever seen.
All day long they played, and in the evening they came to the Giant
to bid him good—bye.
“But where is your little companion?” he said: “the boy I put into
the tree.” The Giant loved him the best because he had kissed him,
“We don’t know,” answered the children; “he has gone away”
“You must tell him to be sure and come here to-morrow,” said the

THE HAPPY PRINCE Z 53
Giant. But the children said that they did not know where he lived,
and had never seen him before; and the Giant felt very sad.
Every aftemoon, when school was over, the Children came and
played with the Giant. But the little boy whom the Giant loved was
never seen again. The Giant was very kind to all the children, yet he
longed for his first little friend, and often spoke of himi “How I would
like to see him!” he used to say
Years went over, and the Giant gtew very old and feeble He could
not play about any more, so he sat in a huge aimehair, and watched
the children at their games, and admired his garden‘ “I have many
beautiful flowers,” he said; “but the children are the most beautiful
flowets of all.”
One wintet moming he looked out of his window as he was dressing,
He did not hate the Winter now, for he knew that it was merely the
Spring asleep, and that the flowers wete resting.
Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder, and looked and looked. It
certainly was a marvellous sight. In the farthest comer of the garden
was a tree quite covered with lovely white blossoms, Its branches were
all golden, and silver fruit hung down from them, and underneath it
stood the little boy he had loved.
Downstairs ran the Giant in gteat joy, and out into the garden. He
hastened acmss the grass, and came near to the child. And when he
came quite close his face grew {ed with anger, and he said, “Who hath
dared to wound thee?” For on the palms of the child’s hands were the
prints of two nails, and the prints of two nails weIe on the little feet.
“Who hath dated to wound thee?” cried the Giant; “tell me, that I
may take my big sword and slay himi”
“Nay!” answered the child; “but these are the wounds of Love,”
“Who art thou?” said the Giant, and a strange awe fell on him, and
he knelt before the little child.
And the child smiled on the Giant, and said to him, “You let me
play once in yout garden, to-day you shall come with me to my garden,
which is Paradise.”
And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the Giant
lying dead under the tree, all covered with white blossoms.
The Happy Prince’r
High above the city, on a tall column, stood the statue of the Happy
Prince. He was gilded all over with thin leaves of fine gold, for eyes he
had two bright sapphires, and a large red ruby glowed on his sword-
hilt
t From Oscar Wilde: Complete Short Fiction, ed. Ian Small (Landon: Penguin Books, 1994)

254 OSCAR WILDE
He was very much admired indeed. “He is as beautiful as a weath-
ercock,” remarked one of the Town Councillors who wished to gain a
reputation f0! having artistic tastes; “only not quite so useful,” he added,
fearing lest people should think him impractical, which he really was
not.
“Why can’t you be like the Happy Prince?” asked a sensible mother
of her little boy who was crying for the moon. “The Happy Prince
never dreams of crying for anything”
“I am glad there is some one in the world who is quite happy,”
muttered a disappointed man as he gazed at the wonderful statue.
“He looks just like an angel,” said the Charity Children1 as they
came out of the cathedral in their bright scarlet cloaks, and their clean
white pinaforesi
“How do you know?” said the Mathematical Master, “you have never
seen one”
“Ah! but we have, in our dreams,” answered the children; and the
Mathematical Master frowned and looked very severe, for he did not
approve of children dreaming.
One night there flew over the city a little Swallow. His friends had
gone away to Egypt six weeks before, but he had stayed behind, for he
was in love with the most beautiful Reed. He had met her early in the
spring as he was flying down the river after a big yellow moth, and had
been so attracted by her slender waist that he had stopped to talk to
hers
“Shall I love you?” said the Swallow, who liked to come to the point
at once, and the Reed made him a low how, So he flew round and
round her, touching the water with his wings, and making silver ripples.
This was his courtship, and it lasted all through the summer.
”It is a ridiculous attachment,” twittered the other Swallows, “she
has no money, and far too many relations”; and indeed the river was
quite full of Reeds. Then, when the autumn came, they all flew away.
After they had gone he felt lonely, and began to tire ofhis lady-love.
“She has no conversation,” he said, “and I am afraid that she is a
coquette, for she is always flirting with the wind.” And certainly, when—
ever the wind blew, the Reed made the most graceful curtsies, “I admit
that she is domestic,” he continued, “but I love travelling, and my wife,
consequently, should love travelling also.”
“Will you come away with me?” he said finally to her; but the Reed
shook her head, she was so attached to her home
“You have been trifling with me,” he cried, “I am 05’ to the Pyramids,
Cood-bye!” and he flew away
All day long he flew, and at night—time he arrived at the city. “Where
shall I put up?’Y he said; “I hope the town has made preparations.”
1. Pupils in institutions known as Charity Schools, which are funded by public endowments

THE HAPPY PRINCE 255
Then he saw the statue on the tall column. “I will put up there,” he
cried; “it is a fine position with plenty of fresh aiI,” So he alighted iust
between the feet of the Happy Prince,
“I have a golden bedroom,” he said softly to himself as he looked
round, and he prepaied to go to sleep; but iust as he was putting his
head under his wing a large dmp of water fell on him. “What a curious
thing!” he cried, “there is not a single cloud in the sky, the stars are
quite clear and bright, and yet it is raining. The climate in the north
of Europe is really dreadful‘ The Reed used to like the rain, but that
was melely her selfishness”
Then another dmp fell.
“What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep the rain oft?” he said;
“I must look for a good chimney-pct,” and he determined to fly away,
But before he had opened his wings, a third drop fell, and he looked
up, and saw—Ah! what did he see?
The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with tears, and tears were
running down his golden cheeks. His face was so beautiful in the moon-
light that the little Swallow was filled with pity.
“Who are you?” he said,
“I am the Happy Princei”
“Why are you weeping then?” asked the Swallow; “you have quite
drenched me”
“When 1 was alive and had a human heart,” answered the statue, “I
did not know what tears weie, for I lived in the Palace of SansSouci2
where SOII’OW is not allowed to enteri In the daytime I played with my
companions in the garden, and in the evening I led the dance in the
Great Hall. Round the garden ran a very lofty wall, but I never cared
to ask what lay beyond it, everything about me was so beautifuL My
courtiers called me the Happy Prince, and happy indeed I was, if pIea-
sure be happiness, So I lived, and so I died And now that I am dead
they have set me up here so high that I can see all the ugliness and all
the misery of my city, and though my heart is made of lead yet I cannot
shame but weep.”
”What, is he not solid gold?” said the Swallow to himself He was
too polite to make any personal remarks out loud.
“Far away,” continued the statue in a low musical voice, “far away
in a little street there is a poor house. One of the windows is open, and
through it I can see a woman seated at a table‘ Her face is thin and
worn, and she has coarse, red hands, all pricked by the needle, for she
is a seamsttess. She is embroidering passion—floweis on a satin gown for
the loveliest of the Queen‘s maids—of—honour to wear at the next Court—
balli In a bed in the comet of the room he! little boy is lying ill, He
has a fever, and is asking for oranges His mother has nothing to give
2, Without Care (Fiench). SanySouci was the name of Frederick the Great’s palace in Potsdam.

256 OSCAR WiLDE
him but river water, so he is crying. Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,
will you not bring her the ruby out of my sword«hilt? My feet are
fastened to this pedestal and I cannot move”
“I am waited for in Egypt,” said the Swallow. “My friends are flying
up and down the Nile, and talking to the large lotus—flowers. Soon they
will go to sleep in the tomb of the great Kings The King is there himself
in his painted coffin. He is wrapped in yellow linen, and embalmed
with spices Round his neck is a chain ofpale gieen iade, and his hands
are like withered leaves.”
“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “will you not
stay with me for one night, and be my messenger? The boy is so thiisty,
and the mother so sad”
”I don’t think I like boys,” answered the Swallow. “Last summer,
when I was staying on the river, there weie two mde boys, the miller’s
sons, who weie always throwing stones at me. They never hit me, of
couise; we swallows By far too well for that, and besides, I come of a
family famous for its agility; but still, it was a mark of disrespect”
But the Happy Prince looked so sad that the little Swallow was sorry
“It is very cold here,” he said; “but I will stay with you for one night,
and be your messengei,”
“Thank you, little Swallow,” said the Prince.
50 the Swallow picked out the great ruby from the Prince’s sword,
and flew away with it in his beak over the roofs of the town,
He passed by the cathedral tower, where the white marble angels
were sculptured. He passed by the palace and heard the sound of danc-
ing. A beautiful girl came out on the balcony with her lover. “How
wonderful the stars are,” he said to her, “and how wonderful is the
powei of love!” “I hope my dress will be ready in time for the State-
ball,” she answered; “I have ordered passion-flowers to be embroidered
on it; but the seamstresses are so lazy,”
He passed over the iiver, and saw the lanterns hanging to the masts
of the ships. He passed ovei the Ghetto, and saw the old Iews bargaining
with each other, and weighing out money in copper scales, At last he
came to the poor house and looked in. The boy was tossing feverishly
on his bed, and the mother had fallen asleep, she was so tired In he
hopped, and laid the great ruby on the table beside the woman’s thim—
ble. Then he flew gently mund the bed, fanning the boy’s forehead
with his wings. “How cool I feel,” said the boy, “I must be getting
better”; and he sank into a delicious slumberi
Then the Swallow flew back to the Happy Prince, and told him what
he had done, “It is curious,” he remarked, “but I feel quite warm now,
although it is so cold.”
“That is because you have done a good action,” said the Prince And
the little Swallow began to think, and then he fell asleep Thinking
always made him sleepyi

THE HAPPY PRINCE 257
When day broke he flew down to the river and had a bath.
“What a remarkable phenomenon,” said the Professor of Ornithology
as he was passing over the bridge. “A swallow in winter!” And he wrote
a long letter about it to the local newspapert Every one quoted it, it
was full of so many words that they could not understand.
“To-night I go to Egypt,” said the Swallow, and he was in high spirits
at the prospect, He visited all the public monuments, and sat a long
time on top of the Church steeple Wherever he went the Sparrows
Chinuped, and said to each other, “What a distinguished stranger!” so
he enjoyed himself very much‘
When the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince. “Have you
any commissions for Egypt?” he cried; “I am just starting,”
“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “will you not
stay with me one night longer?”
“I am waited fat in Egypt,” answeied the Swallow, “To-morrow my
friends will fly up to the Second Cataract.Z The river-hoise couches
there among the bulrushes, and on a great granite throne sits the God
Memnon.‘ All night long he watches the stats, and when the morning
star shines he uttels one cry of joy, and then he is silent. At noon the
yellow lions come down to the water’s edge to drink. They have eyes
like green beryls,‘ and their roar is louder than the roar of the catatact.”
“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “far away across
the city I see a young man in a garret, He is leaning OVCI a desk covered
with papers, and in a tumbler by his side there is a bunch of withered
violets‘ His hair is brown and crisp, and his lips ale red as a pome-
granate, and he has large and dreamy eyes. He is trying to finish a play
for the Director of the Theatre, but he is too cold to write any more.
There is no fire in the grate, and hunger has made him faint.”
“I will wait with you one night longer,” said the Swallow, who really
had a good heart. “Shall I take him another ruby?”
“Alas! I have no ruby now,” said the Prince; “my eyes are all that I
have left They are made of rare sapphites, which weIe brought out of
India a thousand years ago. Pluck out one of them and take it to him‘
He will sell it to the jeweller, and buy food and firewood, and finish
his play.”
“Dear Prince,” said the Swallow, “I cannot do that;” and he began
to weep.
”Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “do as I com-
mand you.”
(So the Swallow plucked out the Prince’s eye, and Flew away to the
3. This reference and athet details of the ioumey (including the stay at the Temple ofBaaIbec)
are taken {mm a poem by Emile Gautier, “Ce que damn es himndelles” (“What the swallows
say”),
4, Reference to the statue of Memnon at Thebes, which is said to emit music when struck by
the sun’s rays.
5. Tmnsparent pale gxeen stones.

258 OSCAR WILDE
student’s ganet It was easy enough to get in, as theie was a hole in the
roof, Through this he darted, and came into the room. The young man
had his head buiied in his hands, so he did not hear the flutter of the
bird’s wings, and when he looked up he found the beautiful sapphile
lying on the witheted violets,
“I am beginning to be appreciated,” he cried; “this is from some
great admirer. Now I can finish my play,” and he looked quite happy.
The next day the Swallow flew down to the harbour, He sat on the
mast of a large vessel and watched the sailors hauling big chests out of
the hold with ropesi ”Heave a»hoy!” they shouted as each chest came
up. “I am going to Egypt!” cried the Swallow, lnut nobody minded, and
when the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Ptince.
“I am come to bid you good-bye,” he cried.
“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “will you not
stay with me one night longei?”
“It is winter,” answeied the Swallow, “and the chill snow will soon
be here. In Egypt the sun is waim on the green palm-trees, and the
crocodiles lie in the mud and look lazily about them. My companions
are building a nest in the Temple of Baalbec, and Hie pink and white
doves are watching them, and cooing to each other. Dear Prince, I
must leave you, but I will never foiget you, and next spiing I will bring
you back two beautiful iewels in place of those you have given away.
The ruby shall be redder than a red rose, and the sapphire shall be as
blue as the great seat”
“In the square below,” said the Happy Prince, “there stands a little
matchgirli She has let her matches fall in the gutter, and they are all
spoiled. Her father will beat her if she does not bring home some
money, and she is crying She has no shoes or stockings, and her little
head is bare Pluck out my other eye, and give it to her, and her father
will not beat her.”
“I will stay with you one night longer,” said the Swallow, “but I
cannot pluck out your eye You would be quite blind then.”
“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “do as I com-
mand you.”
So he plucked out the Prince’s other eye, and darted down with it,
He swooped past the match-girl, and slipped the jewel into the palm
of her hand. “What a lovely bit of glass,” cried the little girl; and she
ran home, laughing.
Then the Swallow came back to the Prince. “You are blind now,”
he said, “so I will stay with you always.”
“No, little Swallow,” said the poor Prince, “you must go away to
Egypt”
“I will stay with you always,” said the Swallow, and he slept at the
Prince’s feet,
All the next day he sat on the Prince’s shoulder, and told him stories

THE HAPPY PRINCE 259
of what he had seen in strange landsi He told him of the red ibises,
who stand in long rows on the banks of the Nile, and catch gold fish
in their beaks; of the Sphinx, who is as old as the world itself, and lives
in the desert, and knows everything; of the merchants, who walk slowly
by the side of their camels, and carry amber beads in their hands; of
the King of the Mountains of the Moon} who is as black as ebony,
and warships a large crystal; of the great green snake that sleeps in a
palm-tree, and has twenty priests to feed it with honeycakes; and of
the pygmies who sail over a big lake on large flat leaves, and are always
at war with the butterflies.
“Dear little Swallow,” said the Prince, “you tell me of marvellous
things, but more marvellous than anything is the suffering of men and
of women. There is no Mystery so great as Misery. Fly over my city,
little Swallow, and tell me what you see there”
So the Swallow flew over the great city, and saw the rich making
merry in their beautiful houses, while the beggars were sitting at the
gates. He flew into dark lanes, and saw the white faces of starving chil»
dren looking out listlessly at the black streets. Under the archway of a
bridge two little boys were lying in one another’s arms to try and keep
themselves warm. “How hungry we are!” they said, “You must not lie
here,” shouted the Watchman, and they wandered out into the rain.
Then he flew back and told the Prince what he had seen.
“I am covered with fine gold,” said the Prince, “you must take it off,
leaf by leaf, and give it to my poor; the living always think that gold
can make them happy”
Leaf after leaf of the fine gold the Swallow picked off, till the Happy
Prince looked quite dull and grey. Leaf after leaf of the fine gold he
brought to the poor, and the children‘s faces grew rosier, and they
laughed and played games in the street “We have bread now!” they
criedi
Then the snow came, and after the snow came the frost The streets
looked as if they were made of silver, they were so bright and glistening;
long icicles like crystal daggers hung down from the eaves of the houses,
everybody went about in furs, and the little boys wore scarlet caps and
skated on the ice.
The poor little Swallow grew colder and colder, but he would not
leave the Prince, he loved him too well. He picked up crumbs outside
the baker’s door when the baker was not looking, and tried to keep
himself warm by flapping his wings
But at last he knew that he was going to die He had just strength
to fly up to the Prince’s shoulder once more, “Cood-bye, dear Prince!”
he murmured, “will you let me kiss your hand?”
“I am glad that you are going to Egypt at last, little Swallow,” said
6, The Mountains Duh: Moon are a range in Uganda.

260 OSCAR WILDE
the Prince, “you have stayed too long heIe; but you must kiss me on
the lips, for I love you.”
“It is not to Egypt that I am going,” said the Swallow. “I am going
to the House of Death‘ Death is the brothet of Sleep, is he not?”
And he kissed the Happy Prince on the lips, and fell down dead at
his feet.
At that moment a curious crack sounded inside the statue, as if some-
thing had bmken. The fact is that the leaden heart had snapped right
in two. It certainly was a dreadfully hard frost
Early the next morning the Mayor was walking in the Square below
in company with the Town Councillors. As they passed the column
he looked up at the statue: “Dear me! how shabby the Happy Plince
looks!” he said.
“How shabby indeed!” cried the Town Councillors, who always
agreed with the Mayor, and they went up to look at it.
“The ruby has fallen out of his sword, his eyes are gone, and he is
golden no longer,” said the Mayor; “in fact, he is little better than a
beggar!”
“Little better than a beggat,” said the Town Councillors.
“And here is actually a dead bird at his feet!” continued the Mayot,
“We must really issue a proclamation that birds ale not to be allowed
to die here,” And the Town Clerk made a note of the suggestion.
So they pulled down the statue of the Happy Prince. “As he is no
Ionget beautiful he is no longer useful,”7 said the Art Professor at the
University.
Then they melted the statue in a furnace, and the Mayot held a
meeting of the Corporation to decide what was to be done with the
metal. “We must have another statue, of course,” he said, “and it shall
be a statue of myselfi”
“Of myself,” said each of the Town Councillors, and they quanelled.
When I last heard of them they were quanelling still,
“What a strange thing!” said the overseer of the workmen at the
foundry, “This btoken lead heart will not melt in the furnace. We must
throw it away.” So they thIew it on a dust—heap where the dead Swallow
was also lying.
“Bring me the two most precious things in the city,” said God to
one of His Angels; and the Angel brought Him the leaden heart and
the dead bird.
“You have rightly chosen,” said God, “for in my garden of Paradise
this little bird shall sing for evermore, and in my city ofgold the Happy
Prince shall praise me,”
7. Note Wilde’s aphorism “All an is quite useless.”

THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 261
The Nightingale and the Rosel
“She said that she would dance with me it] brought her red roses,”
ciied the young Student; “but in all my garden theie is no red rose.”
From hei nest in the holm-oak tree the Nightingale heard him, and
she looked out through the leaves, and wondered.
“No red rose in all my garden!” he cried, and his beautiful eyes filled
with tears. ”Ah, on what little things does happiness depend! I have
read all that the wise men have written, and all the secrets ofphilosophy
are mine, yet for want of a red rose is my life made wretched,”
“Here at last is a tme lover,” said the Nightingale “Night after night
have I sung of him, though I knew him not: night after night have I
told his story to the stars, and now I see him. His hair is dark as the
hyacinth-blossom, and his lips are red as the rose of his desire; but
passion has made his face like pale ivory, and sorrow has set her seal
upon his brow,”
“The Prince gives a ball to-rnormw night,” murmured the young
Student, “and my love will be of the company III bring her a red rose
she will dance with me till dawn IfI bring hei a red rose, I shall hold
her in my arms, and she will lean her head upon my shoulder, and
her hand will be clasped in mine. But there is no red rose in my garden,
so I shall sit lonely, and she will pass me by, She will have no heed of
me, and my heart will break.”
“Here indeed is the true lover,” said the Nightingale “Whatl sing
of, he sufl’ers: what is ioy to me, to him is pain. Surely Love is a
wonderful thing. It is more precious than emeralds, and clearer than
fine opals. Pearls and pomegranates cannot buy it, nor is it set forth in
the marketplace, It may not be purchased of the merchants, nor can
it be weighed out in the balance for gold.”
“The musicians will sit in theii gallery,” said the young Student, “and
play upon their stringed instruments, and my love will dance to the
sound of the harp and the violin She will dance so lightly that her feet
will not touch the floor, and the eourtieis in theii gay dresses will throng
round her. But with me she will not dance, for I have no red rose to
give her”; and he flung himself down on the grass, and buried his face
in his hands, and wept.
“Why is he weeping?” asked a little Green Lizard, as he ran past
him with his tail in the air.
“Why, indeed?” said a Butterfly, who was fluttering about after a
sunbeam.
“Why, indeed?” whispered a Daisy to his neighbour, in a soft, low
vuice.
i From 05:01 Wilde: Complete Shovi Fiction, eds Ian Small (London: Penguin Books, 1994)

262 OSCAR WtLDE
“He is weeping for a red rose,” said the Nightingale.
“For a red rose!” they cried; ”how very ridiculous!” and the little
Lizard, who was something of a cynic, laughed outright.
But the Nightingale understood the secret of the Student’s sorrow,
and she sat silent in the oak-t’tee, and thought about the mystery of
Love.
Suddenly she spread heI brown wings for flight, and soared into the
ail. She passed though the grove like a shadow, and like a shadow she
sailed across the gatdeni
In the centre of the grass-plot was standing a beautiful Rose-tree, and
when she saw it, she flew over to it, and lit upon a spray,
”Give me a red rose,” she cried, “and I will sing you my sweetest
song,”
But the Tree shook its head
“My roses are white,” it answeted; “as white as the foam of the sea,
and whiter than the snow upon the mountain But go to my brother
who grows round the old sun-dial, and perhaps he will give you what
you want.”
So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that was growing Iound
the old sun—dial‘
“Give me a red rose,” she cried, “and I will sing you my sweetest
song.”
But the Tree shook its head.
“My roses are yellow,” it answered; “as yellow as the hair of the
metmaiden who sits upon an amber throne, and yellower than the
daffodil that blooms in the meadow before the mower comes with his
scythe But go to my brother who grows beneath the Student’s window,
and perhaps he will give you what you want”
So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that was growing be-
neath the Student’s window,
”Give me a red lose,” she cried, “and I will sing you my sweetest
song,
But the Tree shook its head,
“My roses are red,” it answered, “as red as the feet of the dove, and
redder than the great fans of coral that wave and wave in the ocean-
cavemi But the winter has chilled my veins, and the frost has nipped
my buds, and the storm has broken my btanches, and I shall have no
roses at all this yeat,”
“One red Iose is all I want,” cried the Nightingale, “only one ted
rose! Is there no way by which I can get it?”
”There is a way,” answered the Tree; “but it is so terrible that I dare
not tell it to you.”
“Tell it to me,” said the Nightingale, “I am not afraid.”
“If you want a red rose,” said the Tree, “you must build it out of
music by moonlight, and stain it with your own heart’s—blood. You must

THE NICHTINGALE AND THE Rose 263
sing to me with your breast against a thorn All night long you must
sing to me, and the thorn must pierce you! heart, and your life-blood
must flow into my veins, and become mine.”
“Death is a great ptice to pay for a red rose,” cried the Nightingale,
“and Life is very dear to alli It is pleasant to sit in the green wood, and
to watch the Sun in his chariot of gold, and the Moon in her chariot
of pearl. Sweet is the scent of the hawthorn, and sweet are the hluehells
that hide in the valley, and the heather that blows on the hills Yet Love
is bettei than Life, and what is the heart of a bird compared to the
heart of a man?”
So she spread her brown wings for flight, and soared into the airs
She swept over the garden like a shadow, and like a shadow she sailed
thtough the grove
The young Student was still lying on the grass, where she had left
him, and the tears were not yet dry in his beautiful eyes,
“Be happy,” cried the Nightingale, “be happy; you shall have your
red roses I will build it out of music by moonlight, and stain it with
my own heart’s—blood. All that I ask of you in return is that you will be
a ttue lover, for Love is wiser than Philosophy, though she is wise, and
mightier than Power, though he is mighty Flame-coloured are his
wings, and coloured like flame is his body. His lips are sweet as honey,
and his breath is like frankincensei”
The Student looked up from the grass, and listened, but he could
not understand what the Nightingale was saying to him, for he only
knew the things that are written down in books
But the Oak—tree understood, and felt sad, for he Was very fond of
the little Nightingale who had built her nest in his branches.
“Sing me one last song,” he whispered; “I shall feel very lonely when
you are gone.”
So the Nightingale sang to the Oak-h’ee, and her voice was like water
bubbling from a silver jar,
When she had finished her song the Student got up, and pulled a
note-book and a lead-pencil out of his pockets
“She has form,” he said to himself, as he walked away through the
grove—“that cannot be denied to her; but has she got feeling? I am
afraid not. In fact, she is like most artists; she is all style, without any
sincerityi She would not sacrifice herself for others She thinks merely
of music, and everybody knows that the arts are selfish. Still, it must
be admitted that she has some beautiful notes in her voice. What a pity
it is that they do not mean anything, or do any practical good,” And
he went into his room, and lay down on his little pallet—bed, and began
to think of his love; and, after a time, he fell asleep.
And when the Moon shone in the heavens the Nightingale flew to
the Rose-ttee, and set her breast against the thorn. All night long she
sang with hei breast against the thom, and the cold crystal Moon leaned

264 OSCAR WILDE
down and listened. All night long she sang, and the thorn went deeper
and deeper into het breast, and her life-blood ebbed away from heL
She sang first of the birth of love in the heart of a boy and a girl,
And on the topmost spray of the Rose-tree there blossomed a marvellous
rose, petal following petal, as song followed song. Pale was it, at first,
as the mist that hangs over the river—pale as the feet of the morning,
and silver as the wings of the dawn, As the shadow ofa rose in a mirror
of silver, as the shadow of a rose in a water-pool, so was the rose that
blossomed 0n the topmost spray of the Tree.
But the Ttee ctied to the Nightingale to press closet against the
thorn. “Press closet, little Nightingale,” ctied the Tree, “or the Day will
come before the rose is finished.”
So the Nightingale pressed closer against the them, and louder and
loudet grew her song, for she sang of the birth of passion in the soul
ofa man and a maid.
And a delicate flush of pink came into the leaves of the rose, like
the flush in the face of the bridegroom when he kisses the lips of the
bride. But the thorn had not yet reached he! heart, so the mse’s heart
remained white, for only a Nightingale’s heart’s-blood can crimson the
heart of a rose
And the Tree cried to the Nightingale to press closer against the
thorn. “Press closer, little Nightingale,” cried the Tree, “or the Day will
Come befoie the rose is finished.”
So the Nightingale pressed closer against the thorn, and the them
touched her heart, and a fierce pang of pain shot through heri Bitter,
bitter was the pain, and wilder and wilder glew her song, for she sang
0f the Love that is perfected by Death, of the Love that dies not in the
tomb‘
And the marvellous rose became ctimson, like the rose of the eastem
sky. Ciimson was the giidle of petals, and crimson as a Iuby was the
heart.
But the Nightingale’s voice grew fainter, and her little wings began
to beat, and a film came over her eyes. Fainter and fainter grew her
song, and she felt something choking her in her throat.
Then she gave one last burst of music‘ The white Moon heard it,
and she forgot the dawn, and lingered on in the sky The red rose heard
it, and it hembled all over with ecstasy, and opened its petals to the
cold morning air. Echo‘ bare it to her purple cavern in the hills, and
woke the sleeping shepherds from their dreams, It floated through the
reeds of the river, and they carried its message to the seal
“Look, look!” cried the Tree, “the rose is finished now”; but the
Nightingale made no answer, for she was lying dead in the long grass,
with the them in her heart.
1. In classxcal mytholny, a mounhin nymph who repeats the 1m wards uttered by 0mm

THE NICHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 265
And at noon the Student opened his window and looked out.
“Why, what a wonderful piece ofluck!” he cried; ”here is a red rose!
I have nevet seen any mse like it in all my life, It is so beautiful that I
am sure it has a long Latin name”; and he leaned down and plucked
it.
Then he put on his hat, and ran up to the Professot’s house with
the rose in his hand
The daughter of the Professor was sitting in the doorway winding
blue silk on a teel, and het little dog was lying at her feet
“You said that you would dance with me ifI brought you a red lose,”
cried the Student. “Here is the reddest rose in all the world. You will
wear it to—night next your heart, and as we dance together it will tell
you how I love you”
But the girl frowned.
“I am afraid it will not go with my dress,” she answered; 1‘and, be,
sides, the Chamberlain’s nephew has sent me some real jewels, and
everybody knows that iewels cost far mote than flowerst”
“Well, upon my word, you are very ungrateful,” said the Student
angrily; and he threw the rose into the street, where it fell into the
gutter, and a cart—wheel went over it,
“Ungiatefull” said the girl “I tell you what, you are very rude; and,
after all, who are you? Only a Student, Why, I don’t believe you have
even got silver buckles to your shoes as the Chamberlain’s nephew has”;
and she got up from her chair and went into the house.
“What a silly thing Love is,” said the Student as he walked away. “It
is not half as useful as Logic, for it does not prove anything, and it is
always telling one of things that are not going to happen, and making
one believe things that are not true In fact, it is quite unpractical, and,
as in this age to be ptactical is everything, I shall go back to Philosophy
and study Metaphysics.”
So he returned to his room and pulled out a great dusty book, and
began to Iead.

CRITICISM
£2

BRUNO BETTELHEIM
[The Struggle for Meaning]?
u a 3
Today, as in times past, the most important and also the most difficult
task in raising a child is helping him to find meaning in life. Many
growth experiences are needed to achieve this. The child, as he devel-
ops, must learn step by step to understand himself better; with this he
becomes more able to understand others, and eventually can relate to
them in ways which are mutually satisfying and meaningful.
To find deepei meaning, one must become able to transcend the
narrow confines of a self—centeied existence and believe that one will
make a significant conhibution to life—if not right now, then at some
future time. This feeling is necessary if a person is to be satisfied with
himself and with what he is doing. In order not to he at the mercy of
the vagaries of life, one must develop one’s inner Iesoutces, so that
one’s emotions, imagination, and intellect mutually support and enrich
one another Our positive feelings give us the sttength to develop our
rationality; only hope for the future can sustain us in the adversities we
unavoidably encounter.
As an educator and therapist of severely disturbed children, my main
task was to restore meaning to theii lives. This work made it obvious
to me that if children were reaied so that life was meaningful to them,
they would not need special help. I was confronted with the problem
of deducing what experiences in a child’s life are most suited to pro-
mote his ability to find meaning in his life; to endow life in general
with more meaning. Regarding this task, nothing is more important
than the impact of parenk and others who take care of the child; second
in importance is our cultural heritage, when transmitted to the child
in the right manner. When childien are young, it is literature that
canies such information best.
Given this fact, I became deeply dissatisfied with much of the liter-
ature intended to develop the child’s mind and personality, because it
fails to stimulate and nuiture those iesources he needs most in order
to cope with his difficult innei problems. The pieprimets and primets
from which he is taught to read in school are designed to teach the
necessary skills, irrespective of meaning The overwhelming bulk of the
rest of strcalled “children’s literature” attempts to entertain or to in-
form, or both But most of these books are so shallow in substance that
little ofsignificance can be gained from them. The acquisition ofskills,
e me Bruno Emelhum, The Use: of Enchantment: The Meaning and Importance of Fairy
Talus (New York: Knopf, 1976) s_si Copyright © 1975. Repiinted by permission afAlfred
A. Knopf, Inc.
269

270 BRUNO BETTELHEIM
including the ability to read, becomes devalued when what one has
learned to read adds nothing of importance to one’s life.
We all tend to assess the future merits of an activity on the basis of
what it offers new But this is especially true for the child, who, much
more than the adult, lives in the present and, although he has anxieties
about his future, has only the vaguest notions of what it may require
or be like, The idea that learning to read may enable one later to enrich
one’s life is experienced as an empty promise when the stories the child
listens to, or is reading at the moment, are vacuous. The Wurst feature
of these children’s books is that they cheat the child of what he ought
to gain from the experience of literature: access to deeper meaning,
and that which is meaningful to him at his stage of development.
For a story truiy to hold the child’s attention, it must entertain him
and arouse his curiosityi But to enrich his life, it must stimulate his
imagination; help him to develop his intellect and to clarify his emo-
tions; be attuned to his anxieties and aspirations; give full recognition
to his difficulties, while at the same time suggesting solutions to the
problems which perturb him. In shorty it must at one and the same
time relate to all aspects of his personality—and this without ever be»
littling but, on the contrary, giving full credence to the seriousness of
the child’s predicaments, while simultaneously promoting confidence
in himself and in his future.
In all these and many other respects, of the entire ”children’s
literature”7with rare exceptions~nothing Can be as enriching and sat»
isfying to child and adult alike as the folk fairy tale. True, on an overt
level fairy tales teach little about the specific conditions oflife in mod-
ern mass society; these tales were created long before it came into
being. But more can be learned from them about the inner problems
of human beings, and of the right solutions to their predicamenm in
any society, than from any other type of story within a child’s compre
hension. Since the child at every moment of his life is expused to the
society in which he lives, he will certainly learn to cope with its con-
ditions, provided his inner resources permit him to do so.
Just because his life is often bewildering to him, the child needs even
more to be given the chance to understand himself in this complex
world with which he must learn to cope. To be able to do so, the child
must be helped to make some coherent sense out of the turmoil of his
feelings. He needs ideas on how to bring his inner house into order,
and on that basis be able to create order in his life He needs—and this
hardly requires emphasis at this moment in our history—a moral edu-
cation which subtly, and by implication only, conveys to him the ad-
vantages of moral behavior, not through abstract ethical concepts but
through that which seems tangibly right and therefore meaningful to
him.
The child finds this kind of meaning through fairy tales. Like many

Z72 BRUNO BE’ITELHEIM
ruminating, rearranging, and fantasizing about suitable story elements
in response to unconscious pressures. By doing this, the child fits un-
conscious content into conscious fantasies, which then enable him to
deal with that content. It is here that fairy files have unequaled value,
because they offer new dimensions to the child’s imagination which
would be impossible for him to discover as truly on his own. Even
more important, the form and structure of fairy tales suggest images to
the child by which he can structure his daydreams and with them give
better direction to his life
In child or adult, the unconscious is a powerful determinant of be-
havior. When the unconscious is Iepressed and its content denied en‘
trance into awareness, then eventually the person’s conscious mind will
be partially ovemhelmed by derivatives of these unconscious elements,
or else he is forced to keep such rigid, compulsive control over them
that his personality may become severely crippledi But when uncon-
scious material is to some degiee permitted to come to awareness and
worked through in imagination, its potential for causing harm—to our-
selves or others—is much reduced; some of its forces can then be made
to serve positive purposes, However, the prevalent parental belief is that
a child must be diverted from what houbles him most: his formless,
nameless anxieties, and his chaotic, angry, and even violent fantasies
Many parents believe that only conscious reality or pleasant and wish-
fulfilling images should be presented to the child—that he should be
exposed only to the sunny side of things. But such one-sided fare nour-
ishes the mind only in a one—sided way, and real life is not all sunny.
There is a widespread refiisal to let children know that the source of
much that goes wrong in life is due to our very own natures—the pro-
pensity of all men for acting aggressively, asocially, selfishly, out of
anger and anxiety, Instead, we want our children to believe that, in—
herently, all men are good But children know that they are not always
good; and often, even when they are, they would prefer not to be This
contradicts what they are told by their parents, and therefole makes the
child a monster in his own eyes.
The dominant culture wishes to pretend, particularly where children
are concerned, that the dark side of man does not exist, and professes
a belief in an optimistic meliorisrn, Psychoanalysis iBelf is Viewed as
having the purpose of making life easy—but this is not what its founder
intended. Psychoanalysis was created to enable man to accept the prob-
lematic nature of life without being defeated by it, or giving in to es
capism, Freud’s prescription is that only by struggling courageously
against what seem like overwhelming odds can man succeed in wting—
ing meaning out of his existence
This is exactly the message that fairy tales get across to the child in
manifold form: that a struggle against severe difficulties in life is un-
avoidable, is an intrinsic part of human existence—but that if one does

“HANSEL AND GRE‘I‘EL” 273
not shy away, but steadfastly meets unexpected and often unjust haid-
ships, one masters all obstacles and at the end emerges victorious.
Modern stories written for young children mainly avoid these exis-
tential problems, although they are crucial issues for all of us, The child
needs most particularly to be given suggestions in symbolic form about
how he may deal with these issues and grow safely into maturity. “Safe”
stories mention neither death nor aging, the limits to our existence, nor
the wish for eternal life. The fairy tale, by contrast, confronts the child
squarely with the basic human piedicaments‘
# a t
BRUNO BETTELHEIM
“Hansel and Gretel”f
“Hansel and Gretel” begins realistically. The parents are poor, and
they worry about how they will be able to take care of their children.
Together at night they discuss their predicament, and how they can
deal with it. Even taken on this surface level, the folk fairy tale conveys
an important, although unpleasant, truth: poverty and deprivation do
not improve man’s Character, but rather make him more selfish, less
sensitive to the sufferings of others, and thus prone to embark on evil
deeds.
The fairy tale expresses in words and actions the things which go on
in children’s minds. In terms of the child’s dominant anxiety, Hansel
and Gretel believe that their parents are talking about a plot to desert
themi A small child, awakening hungry in the darkness of the night,
feels threatened by complete reiection and deserfion, which he expe-
riences in the form of fear of starvation. By projecting their inner anx-
iety onto those they fear might cut them off, Hansel and Gretel are
convinced that their patents plan to starve them to death! In line with
the child’s anxious fantasies, the story tells that until then the parents
had been able to feed their children, but had now fallen upon lean
times‘
The mother represents the source of all food to the children, so it is
she who now is experienced as abandoning them, as if in a wilderness‘
It is the child’s anxiety and deep disappointment when Mother is no
longer willing to meet all his oral demands which leads him to believe
that suddenly Mother has become unloving, selfish, rejecting, Since
the children know they need their parenb desperately, they attempt to
t From Bruno Beltelheim, Thu Um ofEnvh-mtmml: The Meaning and Important): ofFairy
Tale: (New anlc Knopf, 1976) 159766. Capyright Q 1975, 1976 by Bruno Benelheim.
mama by permission ofAlfied A Knopf, Inc.

274 BRUNO BETTELHEIM
return home after being desertedi In fact, Hansel succeeds in finding
their way back from the forest the first time they are abandoned. Before
a child has the courage to embark on the voyage of finding himself, of
becoming an independent person through meeting the world, he can
develop initiative only in trying to return to passivity, to secure for
himself eternally dependent gratification “Hansel and Gretel” tells that
this will not work in the long run.
The children’s successful return home does not solve anything, Their
effort to continue life as before, as if nothing had happened, is to no
avails The frustrations continue, and the mother becomes more shrewd
in her plans for getting rid of the children
By implication, the story tells about the debilitating consequences of
trying to deal with life’s problems by means of regression and denial,
which reduce one’s ability to solve problems. The first time in the forest
Hansel used his intelligence appropriately by putting down white peb-
bles to mark the path home. The second time he did not use his in-
telligence as well—he, who lived close to a big forest, should have
knovm that birds would eat the bread crumbs, Hansel might instead
have studied landmarks on the way in, to find his way back out But
having engaged in denial and regression—the return home—Hansel has
lost much of his initiative and ability to think clearly. Starvation anxiety
has driven him back, so now he can think only of food as offering a
solution to the problem of finding his way out of a serious predicament.
Bread stands here for food in general, man’s “life line”—an image
which Hansel takes literally, out of his anxiety. This shows the limiting
effects of fixations to primitive levels of development, engaged in out
of fear.
The story of “Hansel and Gretel” gives body to the anxieties and
learning tasks of the young child who must overcome and sublimate
his primitive incorporative and hence destructive desires,! The child
must learn that if he does not free himself of these, his parents or society
will force him to do so against his will, as earlier his mother had stopped
nursing the child when she felt the time had come to do so. This tale
gives symbolic expression to these inner experiences directly linked to
the mother. Therefore, the father remains a shadowy and inefi’ectual
figure throughout the story, as he appears to the child during his early
life when Mother is all-important, in both her benign and her threat-
ening aspects,
Frustrated in their ability to find a solution to their problem in reality
because reliance on food for safety (bread crumbs to mark the path)
fails them, Hansel and Gretel now give full rein to their oral regression
The gingerbread house represents an existence based on the most prim-
itive satisfactions. Carried away by their uncontrolled craving, the chil-
1. Th: wish to devnur, or incorpomte, whatever appears threatening [Editor].

“HANSEL AND GRETEL” Z75
dren think nothing of destroying what should give shelter and safety,
even though the birds’ having eaten the crumbs should have warned
them about eating up things,
By devouring the gingerbread house’s roof and window, the children
show how ready they are to eat somebody out of house and home, a
fear which they had projected onto their parents as the reason for their
desertion. Despite the warning voice which asks, “Who is nibbling at
my little house?” the children lie to themselves and blame it on the
wind and ”[go] on eating without disturbing themselves”
The gingerbread house is an image nobody forgets: how incredibly
appealing and tempting a picture this is, and how terrible the risk one
mns if one gives in to the temptations The child recognizes that, like
Hansel and Gretel, he would wish to eat up the gingerbread house, no
matter what the dangers The house stands for oral greediness and how
attractive it is to give in to it. The fairy tale is the primer from which
the child learns to read his mind in the language of images, the only
language which permits understanding before intellectual maturity has
been achieved, The child needs to be exposed to this language, and
must learn to be responsive to it, if he is to become master of his soul.
The preconscious content of fairy—tale images is much richer than
even the following simple illustrations conveys For example, in dreams
as well as in fantasies and the child’s imagination, a house, as the place
in which we dwell, can symbolize the body, usually the mother’s, A
gingerbread house, which one can “eat up,” is a symbol of the mother,
who in fact nurses the infant from her body Thus, the house at which
Hansel and Gretel are eating away blissfully and without a care stands
in the unconscious for the good mother, who offers her body as a source
of nourishment. It is the original all—giving mother, whom every child
hopes to find again later somewhere out in the world, when his own
mother begins to make demands and to impose restrictions, This is
why, carried away by their hopes, Hansel and Gretel do not heed the
soft voice that calls out to them, asking what they are up to—a voice
that is their externalized conscience. Carried away by their greediness,
and fooled by the pleasures of oral satisfaction which seem to deny all
previous oral anxiety, the children “thought they were in heaven.”
But, as the story tells, such unrestrained giving in to gluttony threat-
ens destruction. Regression to the earliest “heavenly” state of being—
when on the mother’s breast one lived symbiotically off her—does away
with all individuation and independence. It even endangers one’s very
existence, as cannibalistic inclinations are given body in the figure of
the witch,
The witch, who is a personification of the destructive aspects of or-
ality, is as bent on eating up the children as they are on demolishing
her gingerbread house When the children give in to untamed id im~
pulses, as symbolized by their uncontrolled voraciousness, they risk be—

276 BRUNO BETTELHEIM
ing destroyed. The children eat only the symbolic representation of the
mother, the gingerbread house; the witch wants to eat the children
themselves, This teaches the hearer a valuable lesson: dealing in sym—
bols is safe when compared with acting on the real thing, Turning the
tables on the witch is justified also on another level: children who have
little experience and are still learning self-control are not to be mea—
sured by the same yardstick as older people, who are supposed to be
able to restrain their instinctual desires better. Thus, the punishment
of the witch is as justified as the children’s rescue,
The witch’s evil designs finally force the children to recognize the
dangers of unrestrained oral greed and dependence. To survive, they
must develop initiative and realize that their only recourse lies in in—
telligent planning and acting. They must exchange subservience to the
pressures of the id for acting in accordance with the ego. Goal-directed
behavior based on intelligent assessment of the situation in which they
find themselves must take the place of wish-fulfilling fantasies: the sub-
stitution of the bone for the finger, tricking the witch to climb into the
event
Only when the dangers inherent in remaining fixed to primitive or-
ality with its destructive propensities are recognized does the way to a
higher stage of development open up Then it tums out that the good,
giving mother was hidden deep down in the bad, destructive one, be-
cause there are treasures to be gained: the children inherit the witch’s
jewels, which become valuable to them after their return home—that
is, after they can again find the good parent. This suggests that as the
children transcend their oral anxiety, and free themselves of relying on
oral satisfaction for security, they can also free themselves of the image
of the threatening mother—the witch—and rediscover the good parents,
whose greater wisdom-the shared iewels—then benefit all.
On repeated hearing of “Hansel and Gretel,” no child remains un-
aware of the fact that birds eat the bread cmrnbs and thus prevent the
children from returning home without first meeting their great adven-
turei It is also a bird which guides Hansel and Gretel to the gingerbread
house, and thanks only to another bird do they manage to get back
home, This gives the child—who thinks differently about animals than
older persons do—pause to think: these birds must have a purpose,
otherwise they would not first prevent Hansel and Gretel from finding
their way back, then take them to the witch, and finally provide passage
home,
Obviously, since all turns out for the best, the birds must have known
that it is preferable for Hansel and Gretel not to find their way directly
back home out of the forest, but rather to risk facing the dangers of the
world. In consequence of their threatening encounter with the witch,
not only the children but also their parents live much more happily

“HANSEL AND CRETEL” 277
ever afterward. The different birds otter a clue to the path the children
must follow to gain their reward
After they have become familiar with “Hansel and Gretel,” most
children comprehend, at least unconsciously, that what happens in the
parental home and at the witch‘s house are but separate aspects of what
in reality is one total experience. Initially, the witch is a perfectly grat-
ifying mother figure, as we are told how “she took them both by the
hand, and led them into her little house. Then good food was set before
them, milk and pancakes with sugar, apples, and nuts, Afterwards two
pretty little beds were covered with clean white linen, and Hansel and
Gretel lay down in them, and thought they were in heaven” Only on
the following morning comes a rude awakening from such dreams of
infantile bliss “The old woman had only pretended to be so kind; she
was in reality a wicked witch. . . .”
This is how the child feels when devastated by the ambivalent feel-
ings, frustrations, and anxieties of the oedipal stage of development, as
well as his previous disappointment and rage at failures on his mother’s
part to gratify his needs and desires as fully as he expected. Severely
upset that Mother no longer serves him unquestioningly but makes
demands on him and devotes herself ever more to her own interests—
something which the child had not permitted to come to his awareness
before—he imagines that Mother, as she nursed him and created a
world of oral bliss, did so only to fool him—like the witch of the story
Thus, the parental home “hard by a great forest” and the fateful
house in the depths of the same woods are on an unconscious level
but the two aspects of the parental home: the gratifying one and the
frustrating one.
The child who ponders on his own the details of “Hansel and Gretel”
finds meaning in how it begins That the parental home is located at
the very edge of the forest where everything happens suggests that what
is to follow was imminent from the start. This is again the fairy tale’s
way to express thoughts through impressive images which lead the child
to use his own imagination to derive deeper understanding.
Mentioned before was how the behavior of the birds symbolizes that
the entire adventure was arranged for the children’s benefit. Since early
Christian times the white dove has symbolized superior benevolent
powers. Hansel claims to be looking back at a white dove that is sitting
on the roof of the parental home, wanting to say goodbye to him. It is
a snow—white bird, singing delightfully, which leads the children to the
gingerbread house and then settles on its roof, suggesting that this is
the right place for them to arrive at Another white bird is needed to
guide the children back to safety: their way home is blocked by a “big
water” which they can cross only with the help of a white duck
The children do not encounter any expanse of water on their way

Z78 BRUNO BETIELHEIM
in, Having to cross one on their return symbolizes a transition, and a
new beginning on a higher level of existence (as in baptism), Up to
the time they have to cross this water, the children have never separated,
The school-age child should develop consciousness of his personal
uniqueness, of his individuality, which means that he can no longer
share everything with others, has to live to some degree by himselfand
stride out on his own. This is symbolically expressed by the children
not being able to remain together in crossing the wateri As they arrive
there, Hansel sees no way to get across, but Gretel spies a white duck
and asks it to help them cross the water, Hansel seats himself on its
back and asks his sister to join him. But she knows better: this will not
do. They have to cross over separately, and they do
The Children’s experience at the witch’s house has purged them of
their oral fixations; after having crossed the water, they arrive at the
other shore as more mature children, ready to rely on their own intel-
ligence and initiative to solve life’s problems As dependent children
they had been a burden to their parents; on their return they have
become the family’s support, as they bring home the treasures they have
gained. These treasures are the Children’s new—won independence in
thought and action, a new selfireliance which is the opposite of the
passive dependence which characterized them when they were deserted
in the woods.
It is females—the stepmother and the witch—who are the inimical
forces in this story. Cretel’s importance in the children’s deliverance
reassures the child that a female can he a rescuer as well as a destroyer.
Probably even more important is the fact that Hansel saves them once
and then later Gretel saves them again, which suggests to children that
as they grow up they must come to rely more and more on their age
mates for mutual help and understanding This idea reinforces the
story’s main thrust, which is a warning against regression, and an en-
couragement of growth toward a higher plane of psychological and
intellectual existence
“Hansel and Gretel” ends with the heroes returning to the home
from which they started, and now finding happiness there. This is psy-
chologically correct, because a young child, driven into his adventures
by oral or oedipal problems, cannot hope to find happiness outside the
home. If all is to go well in his development, he must work these
problems out while still dependent on his parents. Only through good
relations with his parents can a child successfully mature into adoles-
cencei
Having overcome his oedipal difficulties, mastered his oral anxieties,
Sublimated those of his cravings which cannot be satisfied realistically,
and learned that wishful thinking has to be replaced by intelligent aC-
tion, the child is ready to live happily again with his parents, This is
symbolized by the treasures Hansel and Crete] bring home to share

“HANSEL AND CRETEL” 279
with their father. Rather than expecting everything good to come from
the parents, the older child needs to be able to make some contribution
to the emotional well-being of himself and his family.
As “Hansel and Gretel” begins matter—of-factly with the worries of a
poor woodcutter’s family unable to make ends meet, it ends on an
equally down-to-earth level Although the story tells that the children
brought home a pile of pearls and precious stones, nothing further
suggests that their economic way of life was changed. This emphasizes
the symbolic nature of these jewelsr The tale concludes: “Then all
worries ended, and they lived together in perfect joys My tale is ended;
there runs a mouse, who catches it may make himself a big fur cap
out of it.” Nothing has changed by the end of “Hansel and Gretel” but
inner attitudes; or, more correctly, all has changed because inner atti-
tudes have changed. No more will the children feel pushed out, de-
serted, and lost in the darkness of the forest; nor will they seek for the
miraculous gingerbread house. But neither will they encounter or fear
the witch, since they have proved to themselves that through their com-
bined efi’om they can outsmart her and be victorious. Industry, making
something good even out of unpromising material (such as by using
the fur of a mouse intelligently for making a cap), is the virtue and real
achievement of the school-age child who has fought through and mas-
tered the oedipal difficulties.
“Hansel and Gretel” is one of many fairy tales where two siblings
cooperate in rescuing each other and succeed because of their com—
bined efforts. These stories direct the child toward transcending his
immature dependence on his parents and reaching the next higher
stage of development: cherishing also the support of age mates Co—
operating with them in meeting life’s tasks will eventually have to re-
place the child’s single-rninded reliance on his parents only. The child
of school age often cannot yet believe that he ever will be able to meet
the world without his parents; that is why he wishes to hold on to them
beyond the necessary point, He needs to learn to trust that someday he
will master the dangers of the world, even in the exaggerated form in
which his fears depict them, and be enriched by it
The child views existential dangers not objectively, hut fantastically
exaggerated in line with his immature dread—for example, personified
as a child-devouring witchi “Hansel and Gretel” encourages the child
to explore on his own even the figments of his anxious imagination,
because such fairy tales give him confidence that he can master not
only the real dangers which his parents told him about, but even those
vastly exaggerated ones which he fears exist.
A witch as created by the child’s anxious fantasies will haunt him;
but a witch he can push into her own oven and burn to death is a
witch the child can believe himself rid of. As long as children continue
to believe in witches—they always have and always will, up to the age

280 ROBERT DARNTON
when they no longer are compelled to give their fonnless apprehensions
humanlike appearance—they need to be told stories in which children,
by being ingenious, rid themselves of these persecuting figures of theil
imagination. By succeeding in doing so, they gain immensely from the
experience, as did Hansel and Crete}.
ROBERT DARNTON
Peasants Tell Tales: The Meaning of Mother Gooset
The mental world of the unenlightened during the Enlightenment
seems to be irretxievably lost. It is so difficult, if not impossible, to locate
the common man in the eighteenth century that it seems foolish to
search fol his cosmology. But befote abandoning the attempt, it might
be useful to suspend one’s disbelief and to consider a story—a story
everyone knows, though not in the following version, which is the tale
more or less as it was told around fitesides in peasant cottages duting
long winter evenings in eighteenth-century France.l
Once a little girl was told by her mothel to bring some bread
and milk to her g1andmother.As the girl was walking through the
forest, a wolf came up to her and asked where she was going
‘To grandmothers house,” she replied.
“Which path are you taking, the path of the pins or the path of
the needles?”
“The path of the needles.”
So the wolf took the path of the pins and anived first at the
house. He killed gtandmother, pouted her blood into a bottle, and
sliced her flesh onto a plattert Then he got into her nightclothes
and waited in hell
“Knock, knock.”
“Come in, my dear.”
“Hello, grandmother. I’ve brought you some bread and milk”
“Have something yourself, my dear. There is meat and wine in
the pantry ”
So the little girl ate what was offered; and as she did, a little cat
1 From Robert Damtun, “P11113111; Tell Tales: The Meaning 01141111111 Goose,” in Th: Gm!
Cut Massacre and Other Episodes in French (21111111111 History (New York: Basic Books, 1984)
9‘21 Copyright 9 1954 by Dam: Books Inc Re tinted by permission of Dane Books, n
1111115101. of HarperCollins Pubhshers Inc. The 31111h»: 1001110112,; have been edited for 11115
Norton Cxitical 12111110″.
1. This text and 111m of 1h: 011m French folktale: discussed in this essay come ham Paul
Dclarue and Marie-Lnuise Tenéze, u Com M11111″ franpais (Pam, 1975), 3 m11., which
is 111: 11:11 of 111: French 1011a]: collections because it rovidcs :11 11.1: recorded venions of
each 1315 along with background 11110111131101. about how 1 ey were gathered {mm 012] sources.

THE MEANING OF MOTHER Goose 281
said, “Slut! To eat the flesh and drink the blood of your
grandmother!”
Then the wolf said, “Undress and get into bed with me.”
“Where shall I put my apron?”
“Throw it on the fire; you won’t need it any more”
For each garment—bodice, skirt, petticoat, and stockings—the
girl asked the same question; and each time the wolf answered,
“Throw it on the the; you won’t need it any more.”
When the girl got in bed, she said, “Oh, grandmother! How
hairy you are!”
“It’s to keep me walmer, my dear.”
“Oh, grandmother! What big shoulders you have!”
“It’s for better carrying firewood, my dear.”
“Oh, grandmother! What long nails you have!”
“It’s for scratching myself better, my dean”
”Oh, grandmother! What big teeth you have!”
“It’s for eating you better, my dear.”
And he ate her.
What is the moral of this story? For little girls, clearly: stay away from
wolves. For historians, it seems to be saying something about the mental
world of the early modem peasantry But what? How can one begin to
interpret such a text? One way leads thmugh psychoanalysis. The an-
alysts have given folktales a thorough going—over, picking out hidden
symbols, unconscious motifs, and psychic mechanisms. Consider, for
example, the exegesis of “Little Red Riding Hood” by two of the best
known psychoanalysts, Erich Fromm and Bruno Bettelheim1
Fromm interpreted the tale as a riddle about the collective uncon-
scious in primitive society, and he solved it “without difficulty” by de«
coding its “symbolic language” The story concerns an adolescent’s
confinntat‘ion with adult sexuality, he explained. Its hidden meaning
shows through its symbolism—but the symbols he saw in his version of
the text were based on details that did not exist in the versions known
to peasants in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, Thus he makes
a great deal of the (nonexistent) red riding hood as a symbol of men-
struation and of the (nonexistent) bottle carried by the girl as a symbol
of virginity: hence the mother’s (nonexistent) admonition not to stray
from the path into wild terrain where she might break it The wolf is
the ravishing male. And the two (nonexistent) stones that are placed in
the wolf’s belly after the (nonexistent) hunter extricates the girl and her
grandmother, stand for sterility, the punishment for breaking a sexual
taboo. So, with an uncanny sensitivity to detail that did not occur in
the original folktale, the psychoanalyst takes us into a menu] universe
that never existed, at least not before the advent of psychoanalysis.2
Z. Erich Fromm, Th: Fargotom langungums: An Intmdmn’on m m Understanding of Dream,
Fairy me: and Myriam(New York 19 1), pp 23541 quotation from p 240

282 ROBERT DARNTON
How could anyone get a text so wrong? The difficulty does not derive
from professional dogmatism—for psychoanalyst: need not be more
rigid than poets in their manipulation of symbols—but rather from
blindness to the historical dimension of folktalesi
Fromm did not bother to mention his source, but apparently he took
his text from the brothers Grimm. The Crimms got it, along with “Puss
‘n Boots,” “Bluebeard,” and a few other stories, from Jeannette Has-
senpflug, a neighbor and close friend of theirs in Cassel; and she
learned it from her mother, who came from a French Huguenot family.
The Huguenots brought their own repertory of tales into Germany
when they fled from the persecution of Louis XIV. But they did not
draw them directly from popular oral tradition. They read them in
books written by Charles Perrault, Marie Catherine d’Aulnoy, and oth-
ers during the vogue for fairy tales in fashionable Parisian circles at the
end of the seventeenth century. Perrault, the master of the genre, did
indeed take his material from the oral tradition of the common people
(his principal source probably was his son’s nurse)‘ But he toubhed it
up so that it would suit the taste of the salon sophisticates, précieuses,’
and courtiers to whom he directed the first printed version of Mother
Goose, his Contes de ma mére l’oye of 1697‘ Thus the tales that reached
the Grimms through the Hassenpflugs were neither very German nor
very representative of folk tradition‘ Indeed, the Grimms recognized
their literary and Frenchified character and therefore eliminated them
from the second edition of the Kinder» und Hausmarchen—all but “Lit-
tle Red Riding Hood” It remained in the collection, evidently, because
Jeannette Hassenpflug had grafted on to it a happy ending derived from
“The Wolf and the Kids” (tale type 123 according to the standard clas-
sification scheme developed by Antti Aame and Stith Thompson),
which was one of the most popular in Germany. So Little Red Riding
Hood slipped into the Ceman and later the English literary tradition
with her French origins undetected She changed character consider—
ably as she passed from the French peasantry to Perrault’s nursery, into
print, across the Rhine, back into an oral tradition but this time as part
of the Huguenot diaspora, and back into book form but now as a prod-
uct of the Teutonic forest rather than the viliage hearths of the Old
Regime in France
Fromm and a host of other psychoanalytical exegetes did not worry
about the transformations of the text—indeed, they did not know about
them—because they got the tale they wanted. It begins with pubertal
sex (the red hood, which does not exist in the French oral tradition)
and ends with the triumph of the ego (the rescued girl, who is usually
eaten in the French tales) over the id (the wolf, who is never killed in
the traditional versions). Ali’s well that ends well.
3‘ Literati [Edimr].

THE MEANING OF MOTHER GOOSE 283
The ending is particularly important for Bruno Bettelheim, the latest
in the line of psychoanalysts who have had a go at “Little Red Riding
Hood,” For him, the key to the story, and to all such stories, is the
affirmative message of its denouement. By ending happily, he main~
tains, folktales permit children to confront their unconscious desires
and fears and to emerge unscathed, id subdued and ego triumphant.
The id is the villain of “Little Red Riding Hood” in Bettelheim’s ver-
sion. It is the pleasure principle, which leads the girl astray when she
is too old for oral fixation (the stage represented by “Hansel and Gre-
tel”) and too young for adult sex, The id is also the wolf, who is also
the father, who is also the hunter, who is also the ego and, somehow,
the superego as well. By directing the wolf to her grandmother, Little
Red Riding Hood manages in oedipal fashion to do away with her
mother, because mothers can also be grandmothers in the moral econ-
omy of the soul and the houses on either side of the woods are actually
the same house, as in “Hansel and Gretel,” where they are also the
mother’s body This admit mixing of symbols gives Little Red Riding
Hood an opportunity to get into bed with her father, the wolf, thereby
giving vent to her oedipal fantasies. She survives in the end because
she is reborn on a higher level of existence when her father reappears
as ego-superegmhunter and cuts her out of the belly of her father as
wolf-id, so that everyone lives happily ever after}
Bettelheim’s generous view of symbolism makes for a less mechanis-
tic interpretation of the tale than does Fromm’s notion of a secret code,
but it, too, proceeds from some unquestioned assumptions about the
texts Although he cites enough commentators on Grimm and Perrault
to indicate some awareness of folklore as an academic discipline, Bet-
telheim reads “Little Red Riding Hood” and the other tales as if they
had no history He treats them, so to speak, flattened out, like patients
on a couch, in a timeless contemporaneity, He does not question their
origins or worry over other meanings that they might have had in other
contexts because he knows how the soul works and how it has always
worked. In fact, however, folktales are historical documents. They have
evolved over many centuries and have taken different turns in different
cultural traditions. Far from expressing the unchanging operations of
man’s inner being, they suggest that mentalités themselves have
changed. We can appreciate the distance between our mental world
and that of our ancestors if we imagine lulling a child of our own to
sleep with the primitive peasant version of “Little Red Riding Hood”
Perhaps, then, the moral of the story should be: beware of psycho-
analysts—and be careful in your use of sources. We seem to be back
at historicismi
Not quite, however, for “Little Red Riding Hood” has a terrifying
4. Bruno Bettelheim, The Uses of Enchantment: The Meaning and Importance of Fairy Tales
(New York, 1977), pp, 166—83,

284 ROBERT DARNTON
irrationaIity that seems out of place in the Age of Reason. In fact, the
peasants’ version outdoes the psychoanalysts’ in violence and sex. (Fol-
lowing the Grimms and Penault, Fromm and BetteIheim do not men»
tion the cannibalizing of grandmother and the strip-tease prelude to
the devouring of the girl,) Evidently the peasants did not need a secret
code to talk about taboos‘
The other stories in the French peasant Mother Goose have the same
nightmare quality In one early version of ”Sleeping Beauty” (tale type
410)? for example, Prince Charming, who is already married, ravishes
the princess, and she hears him several children, without waking up.
The infants finally break the speII by biting her while nursing, and the
tale then takes up its second theme: the attempts ofthe prince’s mother-
in-law, an ogress, to eat his illicit offspring. The original ”Bluebear ”
(tale type 312) is the story of a bride who cannot resist the temptation
to open a forbidden door in the house of her husband, a mange man
who has already gone through six wives. She enters a dark room and
discovers the corpses of the previous wives, hanging on the walli Hor-
rified, she lets the forbidden key drop fiom her hand into a pool of
blood on the floor. She cannot wipe it clean; so Bluebeard discovers
her disobedience, when he inspects the keys. As he sharpens his knife
in preparation for making her his seventh victim, she withdraws to her
bedroom and puts on her wedding costume. But she delays her toilette
long enough to be saved by her brothers, who gaIIop to the rescue after
receiving a warning from he! pet dove. In one earIy tale fiom the
Cinderella cycle (tale type 5108), the heroine becomes a domestic
servant in order to prevent her father from forcing her to many himi
In another, the wicked stepmother tries to push her in an oven but
incinerates one of the mean stepsisters by mistake. In the French peas-
ant’s “Hansel and Gretel” (tale type 327), the hem hicks an Ogle into
slitting the throats of his own children. A husband eats a succession of
brides in the wedding bed in “La BeIIe et Ie monshe” (tale type 433),
one of the hundreds of tales that never made it into the printed versions
of Mother Goose. In a nastier tale, “Les Trois Chiens” (tale type 315),
a sister kills her brother by hiding spikes in the mattress of his wedding
bed‘ In the nastiest of 311, “Ma mere m’a tué, man pére m’a mange”
(tale type 720), a mother chops her son up into a Lyonnais—ster cas-
serole, which her daughter serves to the fatheL And so it goes, from
rape and sodomy to incest and cannibalism Far from veiling their
message with symbols, the storytellers ofeighteenth-century France por-
trayed a world of raw and naked brutality‘
How can the historian make sense of this world? One way for him
to keep his footing in the psychic undertow of early Mother Goose is
5’ See discussion below and note 6, p. 23; [Editor].

THE MEANING OF MOTHER GOOSE 285
to hold fast to two disciplines: anthropology and folklore When they
discuss theory, anthropologists disagree about the fundamentals of their
science. But when they go into the bush, they use techniques for un-
derstanding oral traditions that can, with discretion, be applied to West-
ern folklore. Except for some structuralists, they relate tales to the art
of tale telling and to the context in which it takes place, They look for
the way a raeonteur adaptx an inherited theme to his audience so
that the specificity of time and place shows through the universality
of the tapes. They do not expect to find direct social comment
or metaphysical allegories so much as a tone of discourse or a cultural
style, which communicates a particular ethos and world view “Scien-
tific” folklore, as the French call it (American specialists often distin-
guish between folklore and “fakelore”), involves the compiiation and
comparison of tales according to the standardized schemata of tale types
developed by Antti Aarne and Stith Thompson. It does not necessarily
exclude formalistic analysis such as that of Vladimir Propp, but it
stresses rigorous documentation—the occasion of the telling, the back-
ground of the teller, and the degree of contamination from written
sources”
French folklorists have recorded about ten thousand tales, in many
different dialects and in every corner of France and of French-speaking
territories, For example, while on an expedition in Berry for the Musée
des arts et traditions populaires in 1945, Ariane de Felice recorded a
version of “Le Petit Poucet” (“Tom Thumb” or “Thumbling,” tale
type 327) by a peasant woman, Euphrasie Piehon, who had been
bom in 1862 in the village of Eguzon (Indre). In 1879 Jean
Droui11et wrote down another version as he listened to his mother
Eugenie, who had learned it from her mother, Octavie Rittet, in the
village of Teillay (Cher) The two versions are nearly identical and
owe nothing to the first printed account of the tale, which Charles
Pcrrault pub1ished in 1697. They and eighty other “Petih Faucets,”
which folk1orists have eompi1ed and compared, motif by motif, belong
to an oral tradition that survived with remarkably little contamination
from print culture until late in the nineteenth century. Most of the
tales in the French repertory were recorded between 1870 and 1914
during “the Golden Age of folktale research in France,” and they were
recounted by peasants who had learned them as children, long be-
fore literacy had spread throughout the countryside. Thus in 1874
Nannette Levesque, an illiterate peasant woman born in 1794, dictated
a version of “Litde Red Riding Hood” that went back to the eigh-
teenth century; and in 1865 Louis Grolleau, a domestic servant born
6. See Aame and Thompson, The Types aflhz mum: A Clanifimtion and Bibliography (2nd
mt; Helsinki, 1973); Thompson, The Folktale (Berkeley 2nd in. Angeles, 1977; 1:. ed. 1946);
and Vladimir Pmpp, Morphology nfthv Folktale, trans. mum Scull (Austin, 1968). Mme
and Thompson m: the “historical-geogra hieal” or “Finnish“ method, developed by Kaarle
Krohn, to produce a worldwide survey ans classification offolktales.

286 ROBERT DARNTON
in 1803, dictated a rendition of “Le Pcu” (tale type 621) that he
had first heard under the Empire, Like all tellers of tales, the peas-
ant raconteurs adjusted the setting of their stories to their own
milieux; but they kept the main elements intact, using repetitions,
rhymes, and other mnemonic devicesr Although the ”performance”
element, which is central to the study of contemporary folklore, does
not show through the old texts, folklorists argue that the recordings
of the Third Republic provide enough evidence for them to recon-
struct the rough outlines of an oral tradition that existed two centuries
a 0‘7
gThat claim may seem extravagant, but comparative studies have re-
vealed striking similarities in different recordings of the same tale, even
though they were made in remote villages, far removed from one an-
other and from the circulation of booksr In a study of”Litt1e Red Riding
Hood,” for example, Paul Deiarue compared thirty—five versions re-
corded throughout a vast zone of the languz d’o‘z’l. Twenty versions
correspond exactly to the primitive “Conte de la mere grand” quoted
above, except for a few details (sometimes the girl is eaten, sometimes
she escapes by a ruse) Two versions follow Perrault’s tale (the first to
mention the red hood) And the rest contain a mixture of the oral and
written accounts, whose elements stand out as distinctly as the garlic
and mustard in a French salad dressing.5
Written evidence proves that the tales existed long before anyone
conceived of “folklore,” a nineteenth-century neologism.“ Medieval
preachers drew on the oral tradition in order to illustrate moral argu—
ments Their sermons, transcribed in collections of “Exempla” from
the twelfth to the fifteenth century, refer to the same stories as those
taken down in peasant cottages by folklorists in the nineteenth century.
Despite the obscurity surrounding the origins of chivalric romances,
chansons d2 gem, and fabliaux, it seems that a good deal of medieval
literature drew on popular oral tradition, rather than vice versa. “Sleep-
ing Beauty” appeared in an Arthurian romance of the fourteenth cenA
tury, and “Cinderella” surfaced in Noel du Fail’s Propos rustiques of
1547, a hook that traced the tales to peasant lore and that showed how
they were transmitted; for du Fail wrote the first account of an impor-
tant French institution, the veillée, an evening fireside gathering, where
men repaired tools and women sewed while listening to stories that
would be recorded by folklorists three hundred years later and that were
7. This information comes from Paul Delame’s introduction to ll Conlz‘fwulaim frangaix. 1,
7—99, Which is the best general account of [o|kloye research in France 2n Which also contains
a thorough bibliography.
3A Deiame, “Les contes meweilleux de Perrault et la tradition populairc,” Butlzrin fizllclon’que
d’Hevde-ance, mt Uuly—Oct., 19m
9. William Thom: launched the term “tnildoye” in 1846, two decades before Edward Tylor
introduced a similar term, “culture.” among Englishman“ anthropol m See moms,
“Folklore” and William R. Bascom, “Folklore and Anthropology” in Dun‘ifis, Study oanIk-
1m, pp. M and 2543‘

THE MEANING OF MOTHER GOOSE 287
already centuries old.‘ Whether they were meant to amuse adults or to
frighten children, as in the Case of cautionary tales like “Little Red
Riding Hood,” the stories belonged to a fund ofpopular culture, which
peasants hoarded over the centuries with remarkably little 1035‘
The gIeat collections of folktales made in the late nineteenth and
early twentieth centuries therefore provide a rare opportunity to make
contact with the illiterate masses who have disappeared into the past
without leaving a trace. To reject folktale: because they cannot be dated
and situated with precision like other historical documents is to turn
one’s back on one of the few points of entry into the mental world of
peasants under the Old Regime. But to attempt to penetrate that world
is to face a set of obstacles as daunting as those confronted by Jean de
l’Ours (tale type 301) when he tried to rescue the three Spanish prin-
cesses from the underworld or by little Parle (tale type 328) when he
set out to capture the ogre’s treasure.
The greatest obstacle is the impossibility of listening in on the story
tellers. No matter how accurate they may be, the recorded versions of
the tales cannot convey the effects that must have brought the stories
to life in the eighteenth century: the dramatic pauses, the sly glances,
the use of gestures to set scenes—a Snow White at a spinning wheel,
a Cinderella delousing a stepsister—and the use of sounds to punctuate
actionsia knock on the door (often done by rapping on a listener’s
forehead) or a cudgeling or a fart. All of those devices shaped the mean-
ing of the tales, and all of them elude the historian. He cannot be sure
that the limp and lifeless text that he holds between the covers of a
book provides an accurate account of the performance that took place
in the eighteenth century. He cannot even be certain that the text
corresponds to the unrecorded versions that existed a century earlierr
Although he may turn up plenty of evidence to prove that the tale itself
existed, he cannot quiet his suspicions that it could have changed a
great deal before it reached the folklorists of the Third Republic
Given those uncertainties, it seems unwise to build an interpretation
on a single version of a single tale, and more hazardous still to base
symbolic analysis on details—riding hoods and hunters—that may not
have occurred in the peasant versions, But there are enough recordings
of those versions—35 “Little Red Riding Hoods,” 90 “Tom Thumbs,”
105 “Cinderellas”—for one to picture the general outline of a tale as
it existed in the oral tradition. One can study it on the level of structure,
noting the way the narrative is framed and the motifs are combined,
instead of concentrating on fine points of detail Then one can compare
it with other stories. And finally, by working through the entire body
of French folktales, one can distinguish general characteristics, over-
arching themes, and pervasive elements of style and tone,
1. Noel du Fail, Proper mstiquex a, Mam lzan Ladulfi Champmoir, chap 5, in Canteurs
fmnm du XVI: mm, ed. Pica: Iourda (Paris, 1956). pp. 620—21.

288 Roman DARNTON
One can also seek aid and comfort from specialists in the study of
oral literature. Milman Party and Albert Lord have shown how folk
epics as long as The Iliad are passed on faithfully from hard to hard
among the illiterate peasants of Yugoslavia These “singers of tales” do
not possess the fabulous powers of memorization sometimes attributed
to “primitive” peoples They do not memorize very much at all. Instead,
they combine stock phrases, formulas, and narrative segments in pat-
terns improvised according to the response of their audiences Re-
cordings of the same epic by the same singer demonstrate that each
performance is unique. Yet recordings made in 1950 do not differ in
essentials from those made in 1934. In each case, the singet proceeds
as if he were walking down a well-known path. He may branch offhere
to take a shortcut or pause there to enjoy a panorama, but he always
remains on familiar ground—so familiar, in fact, that he will say that
he repeated every step exactly as he has done before. He does not
conceive of repetition in the same way as a literate person, for he has
no notion of words, lines, and verses. Texts are not rigidly fixed for him
as they are for readers of the printed page, He creates his text as he
goes, picking new routes through old themest He can even work in
material derived from printed sources, for the epic as a whole is so
much greater than the sum of its parts that modifications ofdetail barely
disturb the general configuration.Z
Lord’s investigation confirms conclusions that Vladimir Propp
reached by a different mode ofanalysis, one that showed how variations
of detail remain subordinate to stable structures in Russian follttales,3
Field workers among illiterate peoples in Polynesia, Africa, and North
and South America have also found that oral traditions have enormous
staying power. Opinions divide on the separate question of whether or
not oral sources can provide a reliable account of past events, Robert
Lowie, who collected narratives from the Crow Indians in the early
twentieth century, took up a position of extreme skepticism: “I cannot
attach to oral traditions any historical value whatsoever under any con—
ditions whatsoever.” By historical value, however, Lowie meant factual
accuracy. (In 1910 he recorded a Crow account of a battle against the
Dakota; in 1931 the same informant described the battle to him, but
claimed that it had taken place against the Cheyenne) Lowie conceded
that the stones, taken as stories, Iemained quite consistent; they forked
and branched in the standard patterns ofCrow narratives So his findings
actually support the view that in traditional story telling continuities in
form and style outweigh variations in detail, among North American
Indians as well as Yugoslav peasanlst Frank Hamilton Cushing noted a
2. Albert B, 14ml, Th: Sin :1 ofTulu (Cambridge. Mass», 1960),
3. Propp, Morphology of t 2 Falklale,
4. lawie’s remark is quoted in Richald Damn, “The Debate (wet the Tmstworthiness of Oral
anlilional History” in Damn, Folklore: Selected Essay: (Bloomington, Ind., 1972), p. 202.

THE MEANING OF MOTHER GOOSE 289
spectacular example of this tendency among the Zuni almost a century
ago. In 1886 he sewed as interpreter to a Zuni delegation in the eastern
United States. During a round robin of story telling one evening, he
recounted as his contribution the tale of “The Cock and the Mouse,”
which he had picked up from a book of Italian folktalesi About a year
later, he was astonished to hear the same tale from one of the Indians
back at Zuni. The Italian motifs Iemained recognizable enough for one
to be able to classify the tale in the Aame-Thompson scheme (it is tale
type 2032) But everything else about the story—its frame, figures of
speech, allusions, style, and geneial feel—had become intensely Zuni.
Instead of Italianizing the native lore, the story had been Zunified.s
No doubt the transmission process affects stories differently in difl’ei‘
ent cultures, Some bodies of folkloxe can resist “contamination” while
absorbing new matelial more effectively than can others But oral
haditions seem to be tenacious and long—lived nearly everywhere among
illiterate peoples. Nor do they collapse at their first exposure to the
printed word Despite Jack Coody’s contention that a literacy line cuts
through all history, dividing oral from “written” or “print” cultures, it
seems that traditional tale telling can flourish long after the onset of
liteiacyt To anthropologists and folklorists who have tracked tales
through the bush, there is nothing extravagant about the idea that peas-
ant raconteurs in late nineteenth-century France told stories to one
another pretty much as their ancestors had done a century or more
earlieri6
Comforting as this expert testimony may be, it does not clear all the
difficulties in the way of interpreting the FIench tales. The texts are
accessible enough, for they lie unexploited in treasure houses like the
Musée des arts et traditions populaires in Paris and in scholarly collec-
tions like Le Conte populaire frangais by Paul Delame and Marie-
Louise Teneze. But one cannot lift them from such sources and hold
them up to inspection as if they were so many photographs of the Old
Regime, taken with the innocent eye of an extinct peasantry. They are
storiesi
As in most kinds of narration, they develop standardized plots from
conventional motifs, picked up here, there, and everywhere. They have
a dishessing lack of specificity for anyone who wants to pin them down
to piecise points in time and place Raymond )ameson has studied the
case of a Chinese Cinderella from the ninth century. She gets her
slippers from a magic fish instead of a fairy godmother and loses one
of them at a village féte instead of a royal ball, but she bears an un-
mistakable resemblance to Perrault’s heroine,7 Folklorists have recog-
SV Funk Hamilton Cushing, Zuni Folk Tales (New Yolk and London, 1901). pp. 411—22.
6. Jack Good , The Domesflcatian of the Savage Mind (Cambridge, 1977). See also the studies
published Ky Goody as leaty in Tradirimml Societies (Cambridge, I968).
7. Raymond 13. lameson, Time lodum on Chinese Folklore (Peking, 1932).

290 ROBERT DARNTON
nized their tales in Herodotus and Homer, on ancient Egyptian
papyruses and Chatdean stone tablets; and they have recorded them all
over the world, in Scandinavia and Africa, among Indians on the banks
of the Bengal and Indians along the Missouri The dispersion is so
striking that some have come to believe in Ur—stories and a basic Indo—
European repertory of myths, legends, and tales. This tendency feeds
into the cosmic theories of Frazer and lung and Iévi-Strauss, but it
does not help anyone attempting to penetrate the peasant mentalities
of early modern France.
Fortunately, a more down—to—earth tendency in folklore makes it pos-
sible to isolate the peculiar characteristics of traditional French tales.
Le Conte populax’ne frangais arranges them according to the Aarne—
Thompson classification scheme, which covers all varieties of Indo~
European folktales. It therefore provides the basis for comparative study,
and the comparisons suggest the way general themes took root and grew
in French soili “Tom Thumb” (“Le Petit Poucet,” tale type 327), for
example, has a strong French flavor, in Penault as well as the peasant
versions, if one compares it with its German cousin, “Hansel and Cre-
tel.” The Grimms’ tale emphasizes the mysterious forest and the na‘l‘veté
of the children in the face of inscrutable evil, and it has more fanciful
and poetic touches, as in the details about the bread-and—cake house
and the magic birdsi The French children confront an ogre, but in a
very real housei Monsieur and Madame Ogre discuss their plans for a
dinner party as if they were any married couple, and they carp at each
other just as Tom Thumb‘s parents did. In fact, it is hard to tell the
two couples apart. Both simplevminded wives throw away their family‘s
fortunes; and their husbands berate them in the same manner, except
that the ogre tells his wife that she deserves to be eaten and that he
would do the job himself if she were not such an unappetizing vieiIIe
béte (old beast).K Unlike their German relatives, the French ogres ap-
pear in the role (1er bourgeois de la maison (burgher head of house-
hold),0 as if they were rich local landowners. They play Fiddles, visit
friends, snore contentedly in bed beside fat egress wives;1 and for all
their boorishness, they never fail to be good family men and good
providers. Hence the joy of the ogre in “Pitchin-Pitehot” as he bounds
into the house, a sack on his back: ”Catherine, put on the big kettle
I’ve caught Pitchin‘l’itchoti”Z
Where the German tales maintain a tone of terror and fantasy, the
French strike a note of humor and domesticity, Firebirds settle down
into hen yards, Etves, genii, forest spirits, the whole Indo—European
S. Thls remark occurs m Penault’s version, which contains a sophisticated reworking of the
gialogue in the peasant versions. See Delarue and Teneze, Le Come populaire (mums, [,
06—24.
9. “Jean de I’Ours,” mle type 3013.
1. 5:: “Le Comte de Parle,” tale type 328 and “La Belle Eulalie,” bl: type 313.
Z. “Pitchinitchot.” kale type 3270,

[SNOW WHITE AND HER WICKED STEPMOTHER] Z91
panoply of magical beings become reduced in France to two species,
ogres and fairies. And those vestigial creatures acquire human foibles
and generally iet humans solve their problems by their own devices,
that is, by cunning and “Cartesianism”—a term that the French apply
vulgarly to their propensity for craftiness and intrigue The Gallic touch
is clear in many of the tales that Perrault did not rework for his own
Gallicized Mother Goose of 1697: the panache of the young blacksmith
in “Le Petit Forgeron” (tale type 317), for example, who kills giants on
a classic tour de France; or the provincialism of the Breton peasant in
“lean Béte” (tale type 675), who is given anything he wishes and asks
for an ban péché de piquette et une écuelle de putates du Iait (“crude
wine and a bowl of potatoes in milk”); or the professional jealousy of
the master gardener, who fails to prune vines as well as his apprentice
in “lean le Teigneux” (tale type 314); or the cleverness 0f the devil’s
daughter in “La Belle Eulalie” (tale type 313), who escapes with her
lover by leaving two mlking patés in their beds Just as one cannot attach
the French tales to specific events, one should not dilute them in a
timeless universal mythology. They really belong to a middle ground:
In France modeme or the France that existed from the fifteenth through
the eighteenth century,
ax:
SANDRA M. GILBERT AND SUSAN GUBAR
[Snow White and Her Wicked Stepmother]?
x v .
As the tegend of Lilithl shows, and as psychoanalysis from Freud and
lung onward have observed, myths and fairy tales often both state and
enforce culture’s sentences with greater accuracy than more sophisti-
cated literary texts‘ If Lilith’s story summarizes the genesis of the female
monster in a single useful parable, the Grimm tale of “Little Snow
White” dramatizes the essential but equivocal relationship between the
angel-wornan and the monster—woman. ” ‘ ” “Little Snow White,”
which Walt Disney entitled “Snow White and the Seven Dwarves,”
should realty be called Snow White and Her Wicked stepmother, for
the central action of the mle—indeed, its only real action—arises
from the relationship between these two women: the one fair, young,
pale, the other just as fair, but older, fiercer; the one a daughter, the
t me Sandra M. Gilbert and Susan Gubar, Th2 Madwaman in the Attic: ‘th Woman water
and the NineteenthCenmry Literary Imagination (New Haven: Yale up, 1979) 3M3.
Copyright © 1979. Reprinted by permission onaIe University Press,
L Adam’s first wife. before Eve was created,

Z92 SANDRA M. GILBERT AND SUSAN Cum
other a mother; the one sweet, ignorant, passive, the other both artful
and active; the one a sort of angel, the other an undeniable witchi
Significantly, the conflict between these two women is fought out
largely in the transparent enclosures into which ” ‘ ‘ both have been
locked: a magic looking glass, an enchanted and enchanting glass cof»
fine Here, wielding as weapons the tools patriarchy suggesb that women
use to kill themselves into art, the two women literally try to kill each
other with art Shadow fights shadow, image destroys image in the crys-
tal prisoni ‘ ’ ”
The story begins in midwinter, with a Queen sitting and sewing,
framed by a window. As in so many fairy tales, she prieks her finger,
bleeds, and is thereby assumed into the cycle of sexuality William Blake
called the realm of “generation,” giving birth “soon aftet” to a daughter
“as white as snow, as red as blood, and as black as the wood of the
window frame,”2 All the motifs introduced in this prefatory first
paragraph—sewing, snow, blood, enclosure—are associated with ltey
themes in female lives (hence in female writing), and they are thus
themes we shall be studying throughout this book. But for our purposes
here the tale’s opening is merely prefatory, The real story begins when
the Queen, having become a mother, metamorphoses also into a
witch—that is, into a wicked “step” mother: “, . . when the child was
born, the Queen died,” and “After a year had passed the King took to
himself another wifei”
When we first encounter this “new” wife, she is framed in a magic
looking glass, just as her predecessor—that is, her earlier self—had been
framed in a window, To be caught and trapped in a mirror lather than
a window, however, is to be driven inward, obsessively studying self-
images as if seeking a viable self. The first Queen seems still to have
had prospects; not yet fallen into sexuality, she looked outward, if only
upon the snow. The second Queen is doomed to the inward search
that psychoanalysts like Bruno Bettelheim eensoriously define as “nar-
cissism,”3 but which ‘ ” ’ is necessitated by a smte from which all
outward prospects have been removed
That outward prospects have been removed—or lost or dissolved
awayais suggested not only by the Queen’s minor obsession but by the
absence of the King from the story as it is related in the Grimm version.
The Queen’s husband and Snow White’s father (for whose attentions,
according to Bettelheim, the two women are battling in a feminized
Oedipal struggle) never actually appears in this story at all, a fact that
emphasizes the almost stifling intensity with which the tale concentrates
on the conflict in the mirror between mother and daughter, woman
2. “Little Snow White.” All references are m the man as given in The Complete Gn’mm’r rm
Tale: (New mi: Random House, 1972).
a. Bruno Benelheim, The Um 0f Enchuntmmt: nu Meaning and Imponanoe of Fairy Tale:
(New Ymk: Knopf, 1976), pp. 202—03.

[SNOW WHITE AND HER WICKED STEPMOTHER] 293
and woman, self and self, At the same time, though, there is clearly at
least one way in which the King is present. His, surely, is the voice of
the looking glass, the patriarchal voice of judgment that rules the
Queen’s—and every woman’s—self-evaluation. He it is who decides,
first, that his consort is “the fairest of all,” and then, as she becomes
maddened, rebellious, witchlike, that she must be replaced by his an—
gelically innocent and dutiful daughter, a girl who is therefore defined
as “more beautiful still” than the Queen, To the extent, then, that the
King, and only the King, constituted the fitst Queen’s prospects, he
need no longer appear in the story because, having assimilated the
meaning of her own sexuality (and having, thus, become the second
Queen) the woman has internalized the King’s rules: his voice resides
now in her own minor, her own mind,
But if Snow White is “really” the daughter of the second as well as
of the first Queen (ie, if the two Queens are identical), why does the
Queen hate her so much? The traditional explanation—that the mother
is as threatened by heI daughter’s “budding sexuality” as the daughter
is by the mother’s “possession” of the father—is helpful but does not
seem entirely adequate, considering the depth and ferocity of the
Queen’s rage. It is true, of course, that in the patriarchal Kingdom of
the text these women inhabit the Queen’s life can be literally imperiled
by her daughter’s beauty, and true (as we shall see throughout this
study) that, given the female vulnerability such perils imply, female
bonding is extraordinarily difficult in patriarchy: women almost inevi-
tably turn against women because the voice of the looking glass sets
them against each othen But, beyond all this, it seems as if there is a
sense in which the intense desperation with which the Queen enacts
her rituals of self-absorption causes (or is caused by) her hatred of Snow
White. Innocent, passive, and self-Iessly free of the mirror madness that
consumes the Queen, Snow White represenb the ideal of renunciation
that the Queen has already renounced at the beginning of the story.
Thus Snow White is destined to replace the Queen because the Queen
hates her, rather than vice versa The Queen’s hatred of Snow White,
in other words, exists before the looking glass has provided an obvious
reason fot hatredi
For the Queen, as we come to see more clearly in the course of the
story, is a plotter, a plot—maker, a schemer, a witch, an artist, an im-
personator, a woman of almost infinite creative energy, witty, wily, and
self-absorbed as all artists traditionally are. On the other hand, in her
absolute chastity, her frozen innocence, her sweet nullity, Snow White
represents precisely the ideal of “contemplative purity” we have already
discussed, an idea] that could quite literally kill the Queen. An angel
in the house of myth, Snow White is not only a child but (as female
angels always are) childlike, docile, submissive, the heroine of a life
that has no story But the Queen, adult and demonic, plainly wants a

294 SANDRA M, GILBERT AND SUSAN Guam
life of “significant action,” by definition an “unfeminine” life ofstories
and story—telling. And therefore, to the extent that Snow White, as her
daughter, is a part of herself, she wants to kill the Snow White in herself,
the angel who would keep deeds and dramas out of her own house.
The first death plot the Queen invents is a naively straightforward
mutdet story: she commands one of heI huntsmen to kill Snow White
But, as Bruno Bettelheim has shown, the huntsrnan is really a surrogate
for the King, a parental—or, more specifically, patriarchal—figure ”who
dominates, controls, and subdues wild ferocious beasts” and who thus
”represents the subjugation of the animal, asocial, violent tendencies
in man”4 In a sense, then, the Queen has foolishly asked her patriarv
chal mastel to act for her in doing the subversive deed she wants to do
in part to retain power over him and in part to steal his power from
him. Obviously, he will not do this. As patriarchy‘s angelic daughter,
Snow White is, after all, his child, and he must save her, not kill her.
Hence he kills a wild boat in her stead, and brings its lung and liver
to the Queen as proof that he has mutdered the child. Thinking that
she is devouring her iee—pure enemy, therefore, the Queen consumes,
instead, the wild boar‘s organs; that is, symbolically speaking, she de-
vours her own beastly rage, and becomes (of course) even more en-
ra ed.
gWhen she leams that her first plot has failed, then, the Queen’s story»
telling becomes angrier as well as more inventive, more sophisticated,
more subversive. Significantly, each of the three “tales” she tells—that
is, each of the three plots she invents—depends on a poisonous or
parodic use of a distinctively female device as a murder weapon, and
in each case she reinfotces the sardonic commentary on “femininity”
that such weaponry makes by impersonating a “wise” woman, a “good”
mother, or, as Ellen Moers would put it, an “educating heroine.”S As
a “kind” old pedlar woman, she offers to lace Snow White “properly”
for once—then suffocates her with a very Victorian set of tight laces.
As another wise old expett in female beauty, she promises to comb
Snow White’s hair ”properly,” then assaults her with a poisonous combl
Finally, as a wholesome farmer’s wife, she gives Snow White a “very
poisonous apple,” which she has made in “a quite secret, lonely room,
where no one ever came,” The girl finally falls, killed, so it seems, by
the female arts of cosmetology and cookeryt Paradoxically, however,
even though the Queen has been using such feminine wiles as the
sirens’ comb and Eve’s apple subversively, to destroy angelic Snow
White so that she (the Queen) can assert and aggrandize herself, these
arts have had on her daughtet an opposite effect from those she in-
tended. Shengthening the chaste maiden in her passivity, they have
made her into precisely the eternally beautiful, inanimate obiet d’ari
4. Behelheim,p. 205,
5. See Ellen Meets, Literary Women (New York Doubleday, 1975), pp. 211742.

[SNOW WHITE AND HER WICKED STEPMOTHER] 29S
pahiarehal aesthetics want a girl to be. From the point of view of the
mad, self-assertive Queen, conventional female arts kill. But from the
point of view of the docile and selfless princess, such arts, even while
they kill, confer the only measure of power available to a woman in a
patriaxcha] culture
Certainly when the kindly huntsman-father saved hex life by aban-
doning her in the forest at the edge of his kingdom, Snow White dis-
covered her own powerlessnessi Though she had been allowed to live
because she was a “good” girl, she had to find her own devious way of
resisting the onslaughts of the maddened Queen, both inside and out-
side her self. In this connection, the seven dwarves probably represent
her own dwarfed powers, her stunted selfhood, for, as Bettelheim points
out, they can do little to help save the girl from the Queen. At the
same time, howevet, her life with them is an important part of her
education in submissive femininity, for in sewing them she learns es-
sential lessons of service, of selflessness, of domesticity, Finally, that at
this point Snow White is a housekeeping angel in a tiny house conveys
the story’s attitude toward “woman’s world and woman’s work”: the
realm of domesticity is a miniaturized kingdom in which the best of
women is not only like a dwarf but like a dwarf’s servant.
Does the irony and bitterness consequent upon such a perception
lead to Snow White’s few small acts of disobedience? Or would Snow
White ultimately have rebelled anyway, precisely because she is the
Queen’s tme daughter? The story does not, of course, answer such
questions, but it does seem to imply them, since in turning point comes
from Snow White’s significant willingness to be tempted by the Queen’s
“gifts,” despite the dwarves‘ admonitions. Indeed, the only hint of self-
interest that Snow White displays throughout the whole story comes in
her “narcissistic” desire for the stay—laces, the comb, and the apple that
the disguised murderess offers. As Bettelheim remarks, this “suggests
how close the stepmother’s temptations are to Snow White’s inner de-
sires”6 Indeed, it suggests that, as we have already noted, the Queen
and Snow White are in some sense one: while the Queen struggles to
free herself from the passive Snow White in herself, Snow White must
struggle to repress the assertive Queen in herself. That both women eat
from the same deadly apple in the third temptation episode merely
clarifies and dramatizes this point, The Queen’s lonely art has enabled
her to contrive a two«faced fruit—one white and one red “cheek”—that
represents heI ambiguous Ielationship to this angelic girl who is both
her daughter and her enemy, her self and her opposite, HeI intention
is that the girl will die of the apple’s poisoned [ed half—red with her
sexual energy, her assertive desire for deeds of blood and triumph—
while she herself will be unharmed by the passivity of the white half.
a. Bcttelheim, p. 211,

296 SANDRA Mt GILBERT AND SUSAN Guam
But though at first this seems to have happened, the apple’s effect is,
finally, of course, quite different. After the Queen‘s artfulness has killed
Snow White into art, the girl becomes ifanything even more dangerous
to her “step” mother’s autonomy than she was before, because even
more opposed to it in both mind and body For, dead and self—less in
her glass coffin, she is an object, to be displayed and desired, patriar-
chy’s marble “opus,” the decorative and decorous Calatea7 with whom
every ruler would like to grace his parlor, Thus, when the Prince first
sees Snow White in her coffin, he begs the dwarves to give “it” to him
as a gift, “for I cannot live without seeing Snow White. I will honor
and prize her as my dearest possession.” An “it,” a possession, Snow
White has become an idealized image of herself, and as such she has
definitively proven herself to be patriarchy’s ideal woman, the perfect
candidate for Queen At this point, therefore, she regurgitates the poi-
son apple (whose madness had stuck in her throat) and rises from her
coffinr The fairest in the land, she will marry the most powerful in the
land; hidden to their wedding, the egotistically assertive, plotting Queen
will become a former Queen, dancing herself to death in red»hot iron
Shoes
What does the future hold for Snow White, however? When her
Prince becomes a King and she becomes a Queen, what will her life
he like? Trained to domesticity by her dwarf instructors, will she sit in
the window, gazing out on the wild forest of her past, and sigh, and
sew, and prick her finger, and conceive a child white as snow, red as
blood, black as ebony wood? Surely, fairest of them all, Snow White
has exchanged one glass coffin for another, delivered from the prison
where the Queen put her only to be imprisoned in the looking glass
from which the King‘s voice speaks daily. There is, after all, no female
model for her in this tale except the “good” (dead) mother and her
living avatar the “bad” mother. And if Snow White escaped her first
glass coffin by her goodness, her passivity and docility, her only escape
from her second glass coffin, the imprisoning minor, rnust evidently
be through “badness,” through plots and stories, duplicitous schemes,
wild dreams, fierce fictions, mad impersonations. The cycle of her fate
seems inexorable. Renouncing “contemplative purity,” she must now
embark on that life of “significant action” which, for a woman, is de-
fined as a witch’s life because it is so monstrous, so unnatural.’ ” ‘
She will become a murderess bent on the self-slaughter implicit in her
murderous attempts against the life of her own child, Finally, in fiery
shoes that parody the costumes of femininity as surely as the comb and
stays she herself contrived, she will do a silent terrible death—dance out
of the stury, the looking glass, the mnsparent coffin of her own image.
7‘ An ivory statue carved by Pygmalian and brought to life by Aphrodite in mponse m the
seulptar’s longing for his creation [Editor],

298 KAREN E. ROWE
in a history that stretches from Philomela and Scheherazade to the
raconteurs of French veillées3 and salons, to English peasants, govem-
esses, and novelists, and to the German Spinnerinnen‘ and the Bmthers
Grimmi It is a complex history, which I Can only highlight in this essay.
To retum to Ovid. With “flame busting out of his bieast,” Teieus,
as Ovid recounts, in his “unbridled passion” is granted a perverse elo-
quence (p. 144).A1though he disguises them as the pleadings ofa “most
devoted husband,” the “crime-conttiver” Tereus speak: only false re-
assurances of protection, honor, and kinship (pl 144) The voyage to
Thrace accomplished, Tereus violently seizes Philomela and
told her then
What he was going to do, and straightway did it,
Raped her, a virgin, all alone, and calling
Fat her fathel, for her sister, but most often
For the great gods. In vain. (p. 146)
Trembling “as a frightened lamb which a gray wolf has mangled,” she
vows to “proclaim” the vile ravishment, to “go where people ale ITell
everybody,” and “if there is any god in Heaven, [He] will hear me”
(pp. H6, H7). Fearing already the potency of Philomela’s voice, the
cruel king Tereus
seized her tongue
With pinceis, though it cried against the outrage,
Babbled and made a sound something like Father,
Till the SWOId cut it off. The mangled root
Quivered, the severed tongue along the ground
Lay quivering, making a little murmur,
Ierking and twitching . . l
. . . [and] even then, Tereus
Took her, and took her again, the injured body
Still giving satisfaction to his lust, (p. 147)
What Tereus has injuied, we might keep in mind, is not only the organ
of speech, but the orifice of sexuality itself—and when the ravaged
Philomela speaks later through another medium, it is on behalf of a
body and spirit doubly mutilated. Philomela, who supposedly lacks the
“power of speech / To help heI tell her wrongs,” discoveis that
grief has taught her
Sharpness of wit, and cunning comes in trouble.
She had a loom to wotk with, and with purple
On a white background, wove her story in,
Her story in and out, and when it was finished,
Cave it to one old woman, with signs and gestuies
;. Evening atheiings [Editor],
4. German i.» “female spinners.”

THE FEMALE VOICE 1N FOLKLORE AND FAIRY TALE 299
To take it to the queen, so it was taken,
Unrolled and understood. (p. 148)
Remember too this old woman, whose servant status belies her impor-
tance as a conveyor 0f the tale. Having comprehended her sister’s wo-
ven story, Procne enacts a dreadful punishment. She slaughters, stews,
and skewers her beloved son Itys as a fitting banquet for the lustful
defiler of flesh, Tereus, doomed to feast greedily “on the flesh of his
own flesh” (p. 150). As we know, the gods intervene to thwart a further
cycle of vengeance by transfoiming Tereus into a bird of prey (the
hoopoe or a hawk), Philomela into the onomatopoetic image of the
quivering tongue as a twittering swallow, and Procne into the nightin-
gale, The Romans (with greater sense of poetic justice) transposed the
names, making Philomela into the nightingale who sings eternally the
melancholy tale of betrayal, rape, and matemal sorrow. As such, she
comes down to us as the archetypal mle-tellel, one who not only weaves
the revelatory tapestry but also sings the song which Ovid appropriates
as his myth.s
Ovid’s account forces upon us the analogy between weaving or spin-
ning and tale—telling. Classicist Edith Hamilton elaborates upon this
connection by noting that “Philomela’s ease looked hopeless. She was
shut up; she could not speak; in those days there was no wtiting. . . ,
However, although people then could not write, they could tell a story
without speaking because they were marvelous craftsmen. . . . The
women . . . could weave, into the lovely stuffs they made, forms so life-
like anyone could see what tale they illustrated. Philomela accordingly
turned to he! loom. She had a greater motive to make clear the story
she wove than any artist ever had.”6 And when Procne “unrolled the
web . . . with honor she read what had happened, all as plain to her
as if in print.” What is notable about Hamilton’s account is the ease
with which she elides the acts of weaving or spinning, narrating a tale
in pictorial or ”graphic” terms, and writing that is to be read and un-
derstood by the comprehending audience, But Hamilton’s elisions find
their basis in the semiotics of Greek itself, which Ann Bergren bril-
liantly analyzes in her study “Language and the Female in Early Creek
Thought.”7 Bergren algues eogently that “the semiotics activity peculiar
5. See also Cheryl walker, Th: Nightingalz’s Burdzn: Women Pam and American Cultm Befom
1900 (Bloomington: Indiana University Pics, 1982), pp. 2142,
61 Edith Hamilton, Mythology: Timeless Tales of Gods and Heroes (New York: New American
Library, 1940),};p.270—71.
7. Ann L T Bergun. “gunua e and the Female in Early Gleek Thought,” Arethum 16,1105.
1 and 2 (SPling and Fallg:19§3) 71. See alsa Ann L. T. Bergien, “Helen’s Web: Time and
Tableau inPtheIliad” Helios. n5, Seven, no. 1 (I980): 19—34. Fox discussions of the shining
aesthetic theories of the relationship between art and liteiature. pictulc and pussy, sec Wendy
Steiner, Th1 Colnn of Rhetmic: Pmblems in the Relation between Modem Literature and
Painting (Chicago Univusityofcmcagu Plesi 192m and Richard Wendorf edArticulated
2:. Th: Sister Arts from Hugurth ta Tennymn (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press,
1198)
8. Pertaining to signs [Editor].

300 KAREN E Rowe
to women throughout Greek tradition is not linguistic. Greek women
do not speak, they weave, Semiotic woman is a weaver, Penelope is, of
course, the paradigm,” to which we might add, among others, Helen,
Circe, the Fates, and Philomeiai But the semiotic relationships are far
more complicated. For if women weave and use the woven obiect, be
it mpesh’y or robe, as a medium for narrating the truth, it must also be
recalled that Greek culture inherited from Indo-European culture a
tradition in which poets metaphorically defined their art as “weaving”
or “sewing” wordsr Having appropriated the terms of what was “origiA
naliy and literally woman’s work par excellence,” as Bergren illustrates,
Creek puets “call their product, in elfect, a ‘metaphorical web.’ ” Ber-
gren’s emphasis falls upon the male appropriation of women’s peculiar
craft of spinning as a semiotic equivalent for the art of creating Creek
poetry itself. For my purposes, the intimate connection, both literal and
metaphoric, between weaving and telling a story also establishes the
cultural and literary frameworks within which women transmit not only
tapestries that tell stories, but aiso later folklore and fairy tales. in this
respect, Bergren’s analysis of Philomela again becomes germane, for
she writes: “Philomela, according to Apollodorus (1H8), huphénasa
en pepléi grammata ‘wove pictures / writing (grammata can mean ei-
ther) in a robe’ which she sent to her sister. Philomela’s tick reflects
the ‘trickiness’ of weaving, its uncanny ability to make meaning out of
inarticulate matter, to make silent material speak. in this way, women’s
weaving is, as grammata implies, a ‘writing’ or graphic art, a silent,
material representation of audible, immaterial speech.” Similarly, when
later women become tale-tellers or sages femmes, their “audible” art is
likewise associated with their cultural function as silent spinners or
weavers, and they employ the folk or fairy tale as a “speaking” (whether
oral or literary) representation of the silent matter of their lives, which
is culture itself.
What then are the multiple levels through which Philomela’s tale is
told, that is, in which the silent tapestry is made to speak so graphically?
First, we might acknowledge the actuality of Tereus’ rape itself, the
truth of an act which is re—presented to us in various forms. When
Philomela threatens to seek an audience to whom she will tell her story,
Tereus belatedly recognizes the terrible power of the woman’s voice to
speak, and by a possible psychological displacement, of the fear he
harbors that the woman’s body will reveal the foul ravishment by gen-
erating illegitimate offspring. This double recognition that both tongue
and bady may speak of his unspeakable act explains why Tereus must
not only sever Philomeia’s tongue but imprison her in the woods as
well, removed from society and unable to communicate her sorry fate
in either way
Second, Philomela turns in her agony to the mainstay of women’s

THE FEMALE VOICE IN FOLKLORE AND FAIRY TALE 301
domestic life, the spinning enjoined upon women both by ancient prac-
tice and by the later biblical porttait in Proverbs (31:10—31) of the
virtuous woman, She who spins is the model of the good woman and
wife and, presumably, in many cultures of the subservient woman who
knows her duty—that is, to remain silent and betray no secrets. Philo-
mela, tongueless though she may be, creates a tapestry that becomes
her voice. Ironically, Philomela, the innocent woman who spins, be-
comes the avenging woman who breaks her enforced silence by simply
speaking in another mode—thmugh a craft presumed to be hatmlessly
domestic, as fairy tales would also be regarded in later centuries. What
is significant, however, is that Philomela’s tapestry becomes the first
“telling,” a grammata (woven picture/writing) that fulfills the verbal
threat previously uttered, yet so cruelly foreshortened‘ It is the first re»
move from the actual tape as an event, done this time through a me-
dium which “writes” (graphein) that truth in a style governed by the
conventions of pictorial narration
Third, the tapestry, woven strand by strand, becomes itself 3 meta-
phor for Ovid‘s patiently detailed rendering of the myth in words. Ovid,
the skilled craftsman of Roman storytelling, in a sense semiotically ISA
sembles Philomela, whose distinctive female craft is weaving. Ovid fut-
ther stylizes the tale in one further remove from the act when he
attaches the transformation or metamorphosis of Philomela into a swal-
low and Procne into a nightingale, That metamorphosis presents us
with another way of envisioning the relationship of Philomela’s story to
Ovid’s We might conclude that Ovid himself has heard the nightin-
gale’s singing (as the emperor would later do in Hans Christian An-
dersen’s “The Nightingale”) and has articulated it for us, as part of his
sequence of tales which comprise the Metamorphoses. Nonetheless, the
event and threatened telling, the tapestry that speaks, and the eternal
song of lament that retells all originate with Philomela, though we know
them only through the cmfted version of Ovid’s poetic an.
The paradigm that l envision is, therefore, twofold, First, Philomela
as a woman who weaves tales and sings songs becomes the prototype
for the female storytellers of later tradition, those sages femmes whose
role is to transmit the secret truths of culture itselE It is critical to note,
as l hinted earlier, that the conveyor of the tapestry is herself an old
and trusted servant woman, who takes the tapestry through which the
voiceless Philomela speaks to the sister, Procne, who reads and under-
stands the depiction Similarly, I might suggest that in the history of
folktale and fairy tale, women as storytellers have woven or spun their
yarns, speaking at one level to a total culture, but at another to a sis-
terhood of readers who will understand the hidden language, the secret
revelations of the tale. Second, Ovid, the male poet, by appropriating
Philomela’s story as the subject of his myth also metaphorically re-

302 KAREN E. ROWE
inforces the connection between weaving and the art of storytelling
Through his appropriation, he lays claim to or attempts to imitate the
semiotic activity of woman par excellence—weaving, by making his
linguistic recounting an equivalent, or perhaps implicitly superior ver-
sion of the original graphic tapesh’yl Like Zeus, as Ann Beigren details,
who incorporates his wife, Metis, and gives birth to the virgin Athena,
so too Ovid seeks to control the female power of ttansformative intel-
ligence, that power which enabled Metis to shift and change shapesi
Despite its primacy as a literary text, Ovid‘s account is nonetheless a
retold version, having already been truthfully represented through the
peculiarly female medium of weaving, and only imitatively repiesented
to us through the creative, transformative power of poetic art—the weav-
ing of a tale in a second sense In Ovid‘s tale itself, Tereus more brutally
attempts to usurp speech, not only by cutting out the female tongue
with which Philomela threatens to “speak” of his crimes, but also by
conniving a false story of her death in a duplicitous and ultimately fatal
misrepresentation of reality, To appropriate the tongue/text and the
fictive-making function, for both Teieus and Ovid, is fraught with t’ri-
umph and tenor, for both only approximate the truth and Can do no
more than render a twice-old tale.
When the French scholar Antoine Galland first translated The Book
of the Thousand Nights and a Night from Arabic into French (1704—
17), he retitled them Arabian Nights Entertainments, no doubt height-
ening the appeal to the French court’s sophisticated taste for exotic
delights” When we conjure up The Arabian Nights, we are also likely
to think first of discrete tales, primarily masculine adventures (“Ali Baba
and the Forty Thieves,” “Aladdin; or, The Wonderful Lamp,” or “Sin-
bad”), recalling neither the narrative framework nor the stated function
which is not only to entertain but also to instruct. But who tells the
tales? And for what reason? The frame story identifies Scheherazade as
the tale-spinnei and the purpose as a double deliverance, of virgins from
slaughter and of an aggrieved king from his mania.
The frame plot of The Arabian Nights may thus seem shaightforward,
King Shahryar of India surprises his adulterous wife as she torridly cop-
ulates with a blackamoor slave, He executes his wife and swears “him-
self by a binding oath that whatever wife he married he would abate
her maidenhead at night and slay her next morning to make sure of
his honour; ‘For,’ said he, ‘there never was nor is there one chaste
woman upon the face of the earth’ ” (p. 14) Scheherazade, the “wise
and witty” daughter of the King’s Wazir, steps in to break this cycle of
silent sacrifice by offering herself as a “ransom for the virgin daughters
of Moslems [sic] and the cause of their deliverance” (p. 15) Her
9, Tales from the Arabian Nights Selected from “The Book oflhe Thousand Night: and a Night,”
trans, Richard F. Burton, ed, David Shumaker (New York- Avenel Books, 1978). See David
Shumaker’s “Introduction” for comments on the presumed authorship that follow.

THE FEMALE Voxce IN FOLKLORE AND FAIRY TALE 303
counterplot requires, however, the complicity of her sisteri Admitted to
the bedchamber, Dunyazad, foreshadowing each evening’s formulaic
plea, appeals, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, recite to us some new
story, delightsome and delectable, whetewith to while away the waking
hours of our latter night,” so that Scheheiazade in turn might “ ‘tell
thee a tale which shall be our deliverance, if so Allah please, and which
shall turn the King from his biood-thirsty custom’ ” (pt 24) Tale after
tale, Scheherazade ceases just before “the dawn of day . . . to say her
permitted say,” thereby cannily suspending each tale mid-way and lur-
ing the King into a three~year reprieve—or a thousand and one Alabian
nights (pt 29)
Historic intermpta may be sufficient to stave off execution, but it is
clearly not to be recommended as a contraceptive, tot within three
yeats’ time Scheherazade has “borne the King three boy children”
(1). 508) Craving release “from the doom of death, as a dole to these
infants,” Scheherazade elicits repentant tears from the king, who readily
responds: “I had pardoned thee before the coming of these children,
fat that I found thee chaste, pure, ingenuous and pious!” (p. 508).
Sexuality and marital fidelity are here intimately linked with the act of
tale-telling, strikingly resembling the same motifs in the story of Procne
and Philomela. Whereas in Ovid’s myth, the tapesh’y becomes a me-
dium for communicating Tereus’ adulterous rape and instigating a
proper vengeance, in The Arabian Nights the two sisters conspire to-
gether to cure King Shahryar by telling admonitory stories of past times
and by demonshating Scheherazade’s chaste fidelityi Scheherazade’s
purity, signified by the legitimate ptoduct of heI womb, converts the
king from his “blood-thirsty custom.” But it is likewise Scheherazade’s
wise telling of tales that instructs the king in precisely how to interpret
his good fortune: “ ‘Thou marvelledst at that which befell thee on the
part of women,’ ” Scheherazade allows, “ ‘and indeed I have set forth
unto thee that which happened to Caliphs and Kings and others with
their women , . i and in this is all-sufficient warning for the man of
wits and admonishment for the wise’ ” (pp. 508—9). Like an analyst
upon whom the patient projects his murderous jealousy, so Schehera—
zade’s stories function for King Shahryar, who with reasoning powers
restored and heart cleansed Ieturns fiom mania to sanity.
Scheherazade’s power to instruct derives from thtee kinds of special
knowledge attributed to women: the knowledge of sexual passion, the
knowledge of healing, and the wisdom to spin tales. More a mode] of
the intellectual and literate storyteller than, like Philomela, of the do
mestic spinner and singer, Scheheiazade, it is written, “had perused
the books, annals and legends of preceding Kings, and the stories, ex-
amples and instances of by—gone men and things; indeed it was said
that she had collected a thousand books of histories relating to antique
races and departed rulersi She had perused the works of the poem and

304 KAREN E. Rowe
knew them by heart; she had studied philosophy and the sciences, arts
and accomplishments; and she was pleasant and polite, wise and witty,
well read and well bred” (p. 15) The descliption might apply as well
to those later “leamed Ladies” of the French court, Madame d‘Aulnoy
and Mlle. L’Héritier, or to well-bred English govemesses (Madame de
Beaumont, Charlotte Bronte, lane Eyre).l And one stands amazed at
the immense repertoire of Scheherazade’s stories, sufficient we might
imagine for another one thousand and one nights of delectation and
delight, Scheherazade paradigmatically reinforces our concept of fe~
male storytellers as transmitters of ancient tales, told and remolded in
such a way as to meet the special needs of the listener—in this case,
King Shahryar and all men who harbor deep fears of the sexual woman
and the dual power of her body and voice‘ As readers of The Arabian
Nights, we participate as eavesdroppers in the bedchamber, together
with the King and Dunyazad, whom Scheherazade initiates into the
mysterious truths of sexuality and folklore. Similar to Procne, who un»
rolled the tapestry and understood ib grammata, Dunyazad comes to
signify the community of all women to whom the female narrator tells
taleso
The voice to tell “marvellous stories and wondrous histories,” the
wisdom to shape them rightly, the procreative and imaginative gener-
ativity belong to Scheherazade, But in The Arabian Night: we find
another instance of male appropriation (pl 515), No doubt a remarkably
quick student, King Shahryar retells “what he had heard from” Scheh-
erazade during three years’ time to his brother Shah Zaman, who is
afflicted with the same jealous mania (p. 510). He is also miraculously
redeemed and conveniently wed to Dunyazad. Having usurped the
storytelling and curative power originally possessed by Scheherazade,
the King further summons “chroniclers and copyists and bade them
write all that had betided him with his wife, first and last; so they wrote
this and named it ‘The Stories of the Thousand Nights and a Night’ ”
(pl 515) A succeeding, equally “wise ruler,” who “keen—witted and
accomplished . , . loved tales and legends, especially those which chron-
icle the doings of Sovrans and Sultans,” promptly “bade the folk copy
them and dispread them over all lands and climes; wherefore their
report was bruited abroad” (pp. 51546), As the basis for a theory of
the origin and dissemination of The Arabian Nights, this account may
be as fictional as the frame story of Scheherazade; nevertheless, it use-
fully suggests the manner in which tales told by a woman found their
way into royal circles, then were dispersed to the “folk,” where pre-
1. Marie-Catllerine d’Aulmyy (1650—1705) and MaxieJeanne L’He‘xitier (1664-1734): French
author: who specialized in {any tales; Ieanne—Mane Leprince de Beaumont( 171 l—BO): French
author of many fairy tales, includin “Beau? and the Rom,” who wmked in England 25 a
avemess; Charlotte 13mm: (mega; Engish author, who wm’lted as a govemes, :5 did
a fictional character lane Em [Editor].

THE FEMALE VOICE IN FOLKLORE AND FAIRY TALE 305
sumably oral recountings insured their descent to the present day, Even
the nanatoi hesitates to push this theory too haid, disclaiming that “this
is all that hath come down to us of the origin of this book, and Allah
is All-knowing” (p, 516).
Beyond this intratextual story that establishes Scheherazade as the
frame tale—teller, the question of authotial identity becomes yet murkier.
Scholais have suggested that Scheherazade’s story appeared in the
tenth-century Hezar Afiane, attributed to the Persian Princess Homai,
daughter of Artaxerxes 1, whose female authorship I would like to be-
lieve. But the alternative cfa fifteenth—century Arabian collection, com-
piled by a piofessional storyteller in Cairo, sex unspecified, leaves us
with no firm indication. We do know that in later centuries The Ara-
bian Nights have come down to us (the folk) through French and
English translations by savants, such as Galland, Henry Torrens (1838),
E W. Lane, John Payne (1882—84), and Richard Burton (1885—88),
whose sixteen-volume English edition has been praised for its “excep—
tional accuracy, masculine vitality, and literary discernment” (emphasis
added) Reinforcing the paradigm set by Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Scheh-
eramde’s story and The Arabian Nights exemplify furthei the appropri-
ation of text by a double nairation in which a presumably male author
or collector attributes to a female the original powel of articulating
silent matter. But having attributed this transformative artistic intelli-
gence and voice to a woman, the narratur then reclaims for himself
(much as Tereus and the King assert dominion over body and voice
within the mles) the controlling power of retelling, of literary recasting,
and of dissemination to the folk—a folk that includes the female com-
munity of tale—telleis from which the stories would seem to have
originated.
Subsequent Eutopean collections of folk and fairy tales often assert
a similarly double control over voice and text, whether as a mere literary
convention 01’ as a Ieflection of the actual informants and contexts of
tale-telling. The Book of the Seven Wise Masters, or Seven Sages, prob-
ably of ninth~century Persian origin, but known in Eumpe, practically
invem the frame story of The Arabian Nights Entertainments} Not a
wazir’s daughter, but instead a king’s son, under notice of death, is
saved from execution by the tales of seven philosophers, who tell stories
of female deceptions, while a woman vehemently defends her sex fmm
these slanders. Cianfiancesco Straparola (cl 1480—0 1557), in his six-
teenth~century Italian collection, Le piacevoli Netti or The Delightful
Nights (1550—53), excuses the crude jest: and earthy telling of tales by
claiming (peihaps falsely?) to have heard them “from the lips of ten
young girls.” And Giambattista Basile’s (1575-1632) famous Lo Cunto
2. Peter Opie and Iona Opie, “Introduction,” The Clams Fairy Tales (London: Oxford Univer-
sity Press, 1974), pp. 20—21.

306 KAREN E Rowe
de 11′ Cunti (1634—36) or the Pentamerone (1674) contains a frame story
attributing the fifty tales to common townswomen. Charles Perrault,
borrowing perhaps from 128 contes d2 vieilIes told by his son’s nurse or
repeated by his son Pierre, creates in Histoires ou Contes du tems passé:
Aves des Moralitzz (1697) the style of restrained simplicity that set the
literary standard for subsequent fairy tale collections and Kunst-
miirchen.‘
Madame d’Aulnoy (c, 1650—1705) may he the female exception that
proves the rule of male appropriation, for as the author of eleven vol-
umes she becomes notable for her elegantly ornamented fairy tales,
designed to delight the adult aristocratic tastes of Louis XIV’S court. As
Dorothy Rt Thelander establishes in “Mother Goose and Her Coshngs:
The France of Louis XIV as Seen through the Fairy Tale,” these “fairy
tales formed a distinct socioliterary genre,” whose “root: lay in stories
that peasant nursernaids and servants told children left in their charge,
yet they were shaped for an adult and relatively sophisticated audience,”
that ”shared the ideals of the Paris salons, particularly those which
cultivated the refinement of language and manners associated with the
précieux.” It is perhaps a sign of how removed Madame d’Auinoy is
from 123 vieiIIes as hearth-side taie-tellers that in one volume of her
contes de fées, she imagines them to be narrated by some women during
a short carriage trip. I do not intend to dispute the issues of the Ancien
Regime and salon bles, or of Perrault’s authorship, or of his style My
argument underscores, however, the observation of how regularly the
tales are assumed and asserted to have their origins in a province de-
finably female, and how the literary contes d2 fées become geared to an
increasingly large circle of women readers—aristocratic ladies, mothers
and nursernaids, governesses, young girls, and ironically the folk.
What surfaces during the period of the seventeenth century in which
fairy tales become part of Western Europe’s literary as well as oral
tradition are “tell-tale” signs of a twofold legacy. First, we have noted
already how insistently literary raconteurs, both male and female, vali-
dated the authenticity of their folk stories by claiming to have heard
them from young girls, nurses, gossips, townswomen, old crimes, and
wise women The female frame narrator is a particularly significant
indicator, because it converts into literary convention the belief in
women as huth-sayers, those gifted with memory and voice to transmit
the culture’s wisdom—the silent matter of life itself Consider, for ex-
ample, the term conte de féesr The terms flies and faerie derive originally
from the Latin Fatum, the thing spoken, and Fata, the Fates who speak
2. 1.0 cm; dz 1.- Cunti: The Tax. ofTaIes; Kquhen: literary fiiry ml: in German [Editm].
4. Dorothy R‘ Theland: ‘Mother Goose and Her Castings: The France ofLouis xw Is Seen
Through the Fm Tale,” Th: IoumalofModern History 54 (1982): 467—96. [Prétizun lilemti
(5.1mm

THE FEMALE VOICE IN FOLKLORE AND FAIRY TALE 307
it. According to Andrew Lang, in his “Introduction” to Permult’s Pop-
ular Fairy Tales (1883), “the Fées answered, as in Sleeping Beauty, to
Greek Moirai or Egyptian Hathors. They nursed women in labour: they
foretold the fate of children.”5 And Katherine Briggs, in An Encyclo—
pedia of Fairies, cites the derivation from “the Italian fatae, the fairy
ladies who visited the household of births and pronounced on the fu-
ture of the baby.”5 These Italian, French, and English derivatives from
the Greek and Latin, compel us to see the origin of fairy as closely
related to female acts of birthing, nursing, prophesying, and spinning
—as ancient myth makes plain. Recall the three Fates: Klathé, the
spinner, spins the thread of life; Lachésis, draws it out, thereby appor-
tioning one’s lifespan and destiny; and the dread Atropos, she who
cannot be kept from turning the spindle, is ”the blind Fury with th’ai}
honed shears,” who “slits the thin—spun life.” Cantes de fe‘es are, there-
fore, not simply tales told about fairies; implicitly they are tales told by
women, descendants of those ancestral Fates, who link once again the
craft of spinning with the art of telling fated truths. In these women’s
hands, literally and metaphorically, tests the power of birthing, dying,
and tale-spinningi
Second, it is not just the nature of the female Iaconteui, but also the
context within which she tells tales in France, Germany, and England
that reinforces associations between the literal and metaphorical spin—
ning of yams, Edward Shorter, among other historians of French pop-
ular culture, documents how in the veille‘es, those weekly gatherings of
farm families, the women would “gather closely about the light of the
nut—oil lamp,” not only to “spin, knit, or dam to keep their own family‘s
clothes in shape,” but also to “tell stories and recite the old tales. Or
maybe, as one disgusted observer reported of the late~nineteenth cen-
tury, they just ‘gossip.’ ”5 The veillée in some parts of France became
sex segregated, often a gathering exclusively of women with their mar-
riageable daughters, in which both generations carded wool, spun, knit-
ted, or stitched, thus enacting the age-old female rituals. As Abel Hugo,
one of Shorter’s nineteenth—century antiquarians, portrays it, “the
women, because of the inferiority of their sex, are not admitted at all
to conversation with their lords and masters, But after the men have
5. Andxcw tang, ed., Pzrmult’: Popular Tales (Oxford: Clalendon Press, 1888; repr. New York:
Amo, 1977)‘
6‘ Katherine Biiggs, An Encyclopedia oanivin (New York: Pantheon, 1975), 1). xi, as quoted in
Thehndei, “Mofl’iex Goose,” pt ¢87.
7. Eergxen, “language and 21.: Female in Eaily Creek Thought,” . 37, n. 5, suggests this
mvocative em hasis on Am , who odmwise might be hamlat “she who does not tum.”
3 en cites ompsnn as C source of“she who cannot be kept from turning” the spindle
its: f.
8. Edwan‘l Shonex, ‘The ‘Veillée’ and the Gxezt Tnnsfunmtion,” in The Wnlfand the Lamb:
Poflular Cultuu in anu [mm the Old R: imc to the Twenfl’rlh Century, ed. Jacques Beaumy,
Male Remand, and Edward T. Gargan (gamtoga, Califomiz: Anmz Libri, 1977), pp. 1277
40, The first lung quotation is taken fmm p. 12 V

308 KAREN E, ROWE
Ietiied, the women’s reign begins. , l “”7 Within the shared esprit of
these late-evening communes, women not only practiced theix domestic
crafis, they also fulfilled their role as transmitters of culture through the
vehicle of “old tales,” inherited from oral hadition or the filtered down
versions from the Bibliothéque bIeue, those cheaply printed, blue»
covered penny dreadfuls sold by traveling colporteurst‘
o . v
To have the antiquarian Grimm Brothers regaided as the fathers of
modem folklore is perhaps to forget the matemal lineage, the ”mothers”
who in the French veilIe’es and English nurseries, in court salons and
the German Spinnstube, in Paris and on the Yorkshire moors, passed
on their wisdom, The Grimm brothers, like Tereus, Ovid, King Shah»
ryat, Basile, Penault, and others reshaped what they could not precisely
comprehend, because only for women does the thread, which spins out
the lore of life itself, create a tapestry to be fully read and understood
Strand by strand weaving, like the craft practiced on Philomela’s loom
m in the hand-spinning of Mother Goose, is the true art of the fairy
tale—and it is, I would submit, semiotically a female art. If we then
recognize the continuity of this community of female storytelleis, then
perhaps Madame d’Aulnoy or her carriage trade ladies differ only in
status and style from Basile’s townswomen, the French vieilles, or En-
glish old wives and middle-class govemesses. We may also wish to re»
conceptualize Madame d’Aulnoy, Mlle. L’Héritier, and Madame de
Beaumont, not as pseudomasculine appropiiators of a folkloiic hadi—
tion, but as reappropriators of a female art of tale-telling that dates back
to Philomela and Scheherazade. As such, they foreshadow, indeed per-
haps foster, the eighteenth- and nineteenth-century emergence of a
passion for romantic fictions, particularly among women writers and
readers. Moreover, the “curious” socio—literary genres of the salon tale
and Penault’s nursery tales (comes naifs) may be Ieperceived as a mid-
stage, linking the ancient oial repertoire of folktales to the latei, dis-
tinctively literary canon that embraces collections of folk and fairy tales
as well as Kunshnarchen, moral and didactic stories, and romantic nov-
els in which fairy tale motifs, structures, and frame narrators exert a
shaping influence
9. Abe] Hugo, fmm 1.1 anu pifloquue, 3 vols, (Path, i839), 1:228, as quoted in Shorter,
“Th: ‘V:illée,’ ” p. 13L In Ethnologie a Iangage: u parole chzz 12: Dagon (Paris: Gallimaid,
196$), Geneviéve Calame-Cviaule similally observes me “parole cachée” (concealed speech)
among the Dogon women, who while 5 inning Conan whispex the slories olthcil mm n is
also while motlm and daughter spin [Eat the mothex teaches her daughta the ncmsary
knowledge of marriage and sexua| relations. These “confidences” are a mode dear to the
Dogon women (“une pm: fémininc”), and as we have seen In Euro can cultures, here too
in an Mam ttibe of the French Sudan the associations tum aroun the ideas ofspinnmg
yam and of a secret, both skills and huths passed flom mothers to daughters.
1. Peddlers of books [Editor].

THE OLD Wivzs’ TALE 309
MARINA WARNER
The Old Wives’ Tale?
* a t
Plato in the Corgias referred disparagingly to the kind of mle—mythos
gmos, the old wives’ tale—told by nurses to amuse and frighten chil-
dren. This is possibly the earliest reference to the genre When the boys
and girls of Athens were about to embark for Crete, to be sacrificed to
the Minotaur, old women are described coming down to the port to
tell them stories, to distract them from their grie£ In The Golden Ass,
Charite, a young bride, is captured by bandits, foicibly separated from
her husband and thrown into a cave; there, a disreputable old woman,
drunken and white—haiied, tells her the story of Psyche‘s troubles before
she reaches happiness and maniage with Cupid: ‘The old woman
sighed sympathetically, “My pretty dear,” she said, “, . . let me tell you
a fairy tale or two to make you feel a little hetteL”Y The picture of
mother’s ordeals will console Charite and distract her from her own
distress. William Adlington published his exuberant translation of ‘son‘
drie pleasaunt and delectable Tales, with an excellent Narration of the
Marriage of Cupide and Psiches , , .’ in 1566; it is most improbable
that a writer like George Peele would not have known this earliest
recognizable predecessor of ‘Cindeiella’ and ‘Beauty and the Beast’.
In Latin, the phrase Apuleius uses is literally ‘an old wives’ tale‘
(anilis fabula); the type of comic romance to which ‘Cupid and Psyche’
belongs was termed ‘Milesian’, after Aristides of Miletus, who had com-
piled a collection of such stories in the second century A.D.; these were
translated into Latin, but are now known only through later retellings.
The connection of old women’s speech and the consolatory, erotic,
often fanciful fable appears deeply intertwined in language itself, and
with women’s speaking roles, as the etymology of ‘fairy’ illuminates.
The word ‘fairy’ in the Romance languages indicates a meaning of
the wonder or fairy tale, for it goes back to a Latin feminine word, fata,
a rare variant of famm (fate) which refets to a goddess of destiny. The
fairies resemble goddesses of this kind, for they too know the course of
fate. Futum, literally, that which is spoken, the past participle of the
verb fari, to speak, gives French fe’e, Italian fata, Spanish hada, all
meaning ‘fairy‘, and enclosing connotations of fate; fairies share with
Sibyls knowledge of the future and the past, and in the stories which
feature them, both types of figure foretell events to come, and give
warnings.
t Excerpt fmm ‘The Old Wives’ Tale” fmm me the Beat lo the Blomie by Manna Wamei.
Copyright 9 1994 by Marina Warner. Reprinted by permission of Fanar, Straus & Gimux, lnc.

3 10 MARINA WARNER
Isidore of Seville (d, 636), in the Etymologizs, gives a famous, scep—
tical definition of the pagan idea of fate and the Fates: ‘They say that
fate is whatever the gods declare, whatever Iupiter declares Thus they
say that fate derives from fando, that is, from speaking. . . . The fiction
is that there are three Fates, who spin a woollen thread on a distafl, on
a spindle, and with their fingers, on account of the threefold nature of
time: the past, which is already spun and wound onto the spindle; the
present, which is drawn between the spinner’s fingers; and the future,
which lies in the wool twined on the distafi’, and which must still be
drawn out by the fingers of the spinner onto the spindle, as the present
is drawn to the past,‘ These classical Fates metamorphose into the fair»
ies of the stories, where they continue their fateful and prophetic roles.
But fairy tales themselves also fulfil this function, quite apart from the
fairies who may or may not make an appearance: ‘Bluebeard‘ or ‘Beauty
and the Beast’ act to caution listeners, as well as light their path to the
future.
Although they do not have the same root, ‘fairy’ has come under
strong semantic influence from ‘fay’ and ‘fair’, both of which may be
derived ultimately from the Middle English ‘feyzn’, Anglo-Saxon ‘fegan‘,
meaning to agree, to fit, to suit, to join, to unite, to bind Thus the
desirable has the power to inspire—even compel—agreement, as well
as to bind Binding is one of the properties of decrees, and of spells,
Interestingly, this root also gives ‘fee’, as in payment, for transferrals of
money too arise from agreed bonds, as a response to a desire, a need
Although the ultimate origin, in time and place, of a fairy tale can
never really be pinned down, we do sometimes know the teller of an
old tale in one particular variation, we can sometimes identify the circle
of listeners at a certain time and place, The collectors of the nineteenth
century occasionally recorded the name of their sources when they took
down the story, though they were not as interested in them as historians
would be now. One salient aspect of the transmission of fairy tales has
not been looked at closely: the female character of the storytellerr
Italo Calvino, in his 1956 collection of Italian Fiabe, or Tales, the
Italian answer to the Crimms, drew attention to this aspect of the tra-
dition, noticing that several of the nineteenth-century folklore anthol-
ogies he drew on and adapted cited female sources, Agatuzza Messia,
the nurse of the Sicilian scholar and collector of tales Giuseppe Pitré,
became a seamstress, and, later, a quilt-malter in a section of Palermo:
‘A mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother, as a little girl, she
heard stories from her grandmother, whose own mother had told them
having herself heard countless stories from one of her grandfathers. She
had a good memory so never forgot them.’ The Kalzvala, the national
poem of Finland, was collected from different oral sources and re—
shaped by Elias Uinnrot in the mid-nineteenth century in the form in
which it is read today; Sibelius, who would compose many pieces in-

THE OLD WIVES’ TALE 311
spired by the Knlzvala’s heroes and heroines, heard the epic in part
direct fiom Larin Paraske, a woman bard, who held eleven thousand
lines of such folk material in her head. Karel Capek, the Utopian Czech
writer most famous for his satire RUR (which introduced the concept
of Robots), wrote an acute essay about fairy tale in 1931, in which he
decided:
A fairy story cannot be defined by its motif and subiect—matter, but
by its origin and function. . i . A true folk fairy tale does not
originate in being taken down by the collector of folklore but in
being told by a grandmother to her grandchildren, or by one mem< be! of the Yoruba tribe to other members of the Yoruba tribe, or by a professional storyteller to his audience in an AIab coffeehouse. A real fairy tale, a fairy tale in its true function, is a tale within a circle of listeners , , . He himself remembered his mother and his grandmother telling him stories—they were both millers‘ daughters, as if they had stepped out of a fairy tale. The traditio does literally pass on, as the word suggests, between the generations, and the predominant pattern reveals older women of a lower status handing on the material to younget people, who include boys, sometimes, if not often, of higher position and ex- pectations, like future ethnogtaphers and writers of talesi So although male writers and collectors have dominated the produc- tion and dissemination of popular wonder tales, they often pass on women’s stories from intimate or domestic milieux; their tale—spinners often figure as so many Scheherazades, using narrative to bring about a resolution of satisfaction and justice, Marguerite de Navarre, in the Heptamémn, gives the stories to ten speakers, five of whom are women: they too, like the narrate! of The Arabian Nights, put their own case, veiled in entertaining and occasionally licentious fantasy Boccaccio, and his admire! and emulator (to some degree) Chaucer, voiced the stories of women, and some contain folk material which makes a strong showing in later fairy stories; the Venetian Ciovan Francesco Straparola (the ‘Babbler’) reported the stories told by a circle of ladies in his en- tertaining and sometimes scabrous fantasies, filled with fairytale motifs and improbabilities, called 12 placevoli notti (The Pleasant Nights), published in 1550; the Neapolitan Giambattista Basile, in La cunto de Ii cunti (The Tale of Tales), also known as H Pentamerone (The Pen- tameron), published posthumously in 1634—6, featured a group of wiz- ened and misshapen old crones as his sources. The women who inaugurated the fashion for the written fairy tale, in Paris at the end of the seventeenth century, consistently claimed they had heard the stories they were retelling from nurses and servants. Mme de Sévigné, writing to her daughter, revealingly reported a metaphor borrowed from the kitchen to describe the new enthusiasm: ‘cela 312 MARINA WARNER s‘appelle Ies [contes] mitonnerl Elle nous mitonna donc, et naus parla d'une fle verte, 0121 1’07: élevait une princesse plus belle que [2 jour’ (it’s called simmering them [tales]; so she simmered for us, and talked to us about a green isle where a princess grew up who was more beautiful than the day). Charles Perrault’s collection of 1697 bore the alternative title of Cantes de ma Mére l’Oye (Mother Goose Tales); in an earlier preface, to the tale ‘Peau d'Ane‘ (Donkeyskin), Penault also placed his work in the tradition of Milesian bawdy, like the tale of 'Cupid and Psyche’, but he added that he was passing on ‘an entirely made up story and an old wives’ tale’, such as had been told to children since time imme- morial by their nurses. While referring to a written canon, he thus disengaged himself from its élite character to invoke old women, grand- mothers and governesses as his true predecessors He was quick to add, however, that unlike the moral of ‘Cupid and Psyche’ (‘impénéirable'), his own was patently clear, which made it far superior to in classical predecessors: These Milesian fables are so puerile that it is doing them rather an honour to set up against them our own Donkeyskin tales and Mother Goose tales, or [they are] so filled with dirt, like The Golden Ass of Lucian or Apuleius i . i that they do not merit that we should pay them attention. Penault may have had his tongue in his cheek when he protested that ‘Donkeyskin’, a tale of father—daughtel incest, was morally impec- cable. But a contemporary pedant, the Abbe de Villiers, took his ar- gument at face value, and rounded in outrage on Penault and the writers of fairy tales, penning a pamphlet against the genre, ‘As a pre- ventive measure against bad taste.’ There he lumped women and chil- dren together as the perpetrators of the new fad: ‘Ignorant and foolish, they have filled the world with so many collections, so many little stories, and in short with these teams of fairy tales which have been the death of us for the last year or so,’ The diminutive form of the nouns (wmettes, bagatelles, historiettes) recurs in the rhetoric ofdehactors and supporters alike; the former branding fairy stories as infantile, the latter praising them as childlike. This tension between opposing perceptions of the child informs the development of the tales and continues to do so, Villiers sets up an imaginary debate between a fashionable Parisian and a sensible visitor from the provincesl The provincial calls them sottises imprimées (follies in print) and compares them derogatoxily to fables, seeming them as 'Tales to make you fall asleep on your feet, that nurses have made up to entertain children'l The Parisian counters that nurses have to be highly skilled to tell them. To which the provin- cial retorts that if such tales ever contained a coherent moral purpose, THE OLD eres’ TALE 313 they would not be considered in the first place ‘the lot of ignorant folk and women'. The battle was joined, over the value of fairy tales; their female origin was not really contested Villiers’s Parisian was putting forward the views of poets and literati lilce Mlle Marie-Jeanne L'Héritier de Villandon (16644734), a cousin and close friend of Penault, who defended the form with fighting spirit precisely because it conveyed the ancient pure wisdom of the people from the fountainhead—old women, nurses, governesses. In her preface to the story ‘Mannoisan, ou I'innocente trompzrie' (Marmoisan, or the innocent trick) of 1696, she declared herself a partisan of women and their staries, remembering: ‘A hundred times and more, my governess, instead of animal fables, would draw for me the moral features of this surprising story, . i , Why yes, once heard, such tales are far more striking than the exploits of a monkey and a wol£ I took an extreme pleasure in them—as does every childi' L’Héritier could never rid her praise of its defensive tone (‘the moral features’), and for good reason. The phrase ‘old wives’ tale’ was super ficially pejorative when Apuleius used it on the lips of his hoary-headed crane of a storyteller; it remained so, in the very act of authenticating the folk wisdom of the stories by stressing the wise old women who had carried on the tradition. It is still, in English, an ambiguous phrase: an old wives’ tale means a piece of nonsense, a tissue of error, an ancient act of deception, of self and others, idle talk. As Marlowe writes in Dr Faustus, ‘Tush, these are trifles and mere old wives’ tales’. On a par with trifles, ‘mere old wives' tales' carry connotations of error, of false counsel, ignorance, prejudice and fallacious nostrums—against heart- break as well as headache; similarly ‘fairy tale', as a derogatory term, implies fantasy, escapism, invention, the unreliable consolations of ro- mance, But the idealistic impulse is also driven by dreams; alternative ways of sifting right and wrong require different guides, ones perhaps dis- credited or neglected. Women from very diflerent social strata have been remarkably active in the fields of folklore and children's literature since the nineteenth century The Grimm Brothers' most inspiring and prolific sources were women, from families of friends and close rela- tions, lilte the Wilds—Wilhelm married Dortchen, the youngest offour daughters of Dorothea Wild, who possessed a rich store of traditional tales, and she provided thirty—six for the collection. Dorothea, the Grimms’ sister, married Ludwig Hassenpfiug, and his three sisters passed on forty—one of the tales, From the Romantic literary circle of the artistic aristocratic von Haxthausens (who contributed collectively no fewer than sixty-six of the Grimms’ tales) Annette von Droste- Hiilshoff, the poet, and her sister Jenny were among the women who eagerly took part in telling the brothers the stories they had heard as children and more recently from their local area of Westphalia Oscar 314 MARINA WARNER Wilde's father, a doctor in Menion Square, Dublin, in the mid— nineteenth century, used to ask for stories as his fee from his poorer patients: his wife Speranza Wilde then collected them. Many of these were told to him by women, and in tum influenced theit son’s inno- vatory fairy tales, like ‘The Selfish Giant' and ‘The Happy Prince'. At the end of the century, the omnivorous Scottish folkloristAndrew Lang relied on his wife Leonora Alleyne, as well as a team of women editors, hanscribers and paraphrasers, to produce the many volumes of fairy stories and folk tales from around the world, in the immensely popular Red, Yellow, Green, Blue, Rose Fairy Books, which he began publishing in 1890. The writer Simone Schwarz-Bart stitched her memories of Creole stories from her Martinique childhood into her poetic, adven- turous, linguistically hybtid fictions The grandmother Reine Sans Nom (Queen-With-No—Name) in Pluie et vent sur Télumée Miracle (1972) embodies survival and history, and keeps the memory of slave culture, and of Africa before that With the help of her friend, a sorceress, she passes on lore, fables, fairy tales, ghost stories to her granddaughterl As Simone Sehwarz-Bart once said in an interview, ‘The tale is, in large part, our capital. 1 was nourished on tales. It is our bible. . . . I don't have a technique, but I know‘ I’m familiar‘ We heard. I've been nour- ished. . i . When an old person dies, 3 whole library disappears,’ It would be absurd to argue that storytelling was an exclusively female activity—it varies from country to country, from one people to another, and from place to place within the same country, among the same people—but it is worth trying to puzzle out in what different ways the patterns of fairytale romancing might be drawn when women are the tellers. The pedagogical function of the wonder story deepens the sympathy between the social category women occupy and fairy tale‘ Fairy tales exchange knowledge between an older voice of experience and a younger audience, they present pictlues 0f perils and possibilities that lie ahead, they use terror to set limits on choice and ofl'er consolation to the wronged, they draw social outlines around boys and gixls, fathers and mothers, the rich and the poor, the rulers and the ruled, they point out the evildoexs and garland the virtuous, they stand up to adversity with dreams of vengeance, power and vindication. The veillées were the hearthside sessions of early modern society, where early social observers, like Bonaventure des Périers and Noel du Fail in the sixteenth century, describe the telling of some of today‘s most familiar fables and tales, like ‘Donkeyskin' and ‘Cinderella'. These gatherings ofiered men and women an opportunity to talk~to preach -—which was forbidden them in other situations, the pulpit, the forum, and frowned on and feared in the spinning rooms and by the wellside, Taking place after daylight hours, they still do not exactly anticipate the leisure uses of television or radio today—«work continued, in the THE OLD WIVES’ TALE 315 form of spinning, especially, and other domestic tasks: one folklore his» torian recalled hearing the women in heI childhood tell stories to the rhythm of the stones cracking walnuts as they shelled them for bottling and pickling, As Walter Benjamin wrote in his essay on ‘The Story- teller': [The storyteller‘s] nesting places—the activities that are intimately associated with horedom—are already extinct in the cities and are declining in the country as welli With this the gift for listening is lost and the community of listeners disappears. . . . Benjamin never once imagines that his storytellers might be women, even though he identifies so clearly and so eloquently the connection between routine repetitive work and narrative—storytelling is itself ‘an artisan form of communication’, he writes. And later, again, it is ‘rooted in the people . . . a milieu of craftsmcn'. He divides storytellers into shy—athomes and rovers—tradesmen and agriculturalists, like the tailors and the shoemakers who appear in the stories, on the one hand; on the other, the seamen who travel far afield adventuring, like the quest- ing type of heio. He neglects the figure of the spinster, the older woman with her distafi, who may be working in town and country, in one place or on the move, at market, or on a pilgrimage to Canterbury, and who has become a generic icon of narrative from the fiontispiece of fairytale collections from Charles Penault’s onwards The Scottish poet Liz Lochhead, who has drawn on much fairytale imagery in her WOIk, has written: No one could say the stories were useless for as the tongue clacked five or forty fingers stitched com was grated from the husk patchwork was pieced or the daming was done . , , And at first light . i . the stoties dissolved in the whorl of the ear but they hung themselves upside down in the sleeping heads of the children till they flew again into the storyteller’s night. Spinning a tale, weaving a plot: the metaphors illuminate the tela- tion; while the structure of fairy stories, with their repetitions, reprises, elaboration and minutiae, replicates the thread and fabric of one of women’s principal labours—the making of textiles from the wool or the flax to the finished bolt of cloth, 316 MARINA WARNER Fairy tales are stories which, in the earliest mentions of their exis- tence, include that circle of listeners, the audience; as they point to possible destinies, possible happy outcomes, they successfully involve their hearers or readers in identifying with the protagonists, their mis— fortunes, their triumphs, Schematic characterization leaves a gap into which the listener may stepi Who has not tried on the glass slipper? Or offered it for trying? The relation between the authentic, artisan source and the tale recorded in book form for children and adults is not simple; we are not hearing the spinsters and the knitters in the sun whom Orsino remembers chanting in Twelfth Nighty unmediated, But the quality of the mediation is of great interest From the mid—seventeenth century, the nurses, governesses, family domestics, working women liv— ing in or near the great house or castle in town and country existed in a different relation to the élite men and women who may have once been in their charge, as children. The future Marquise de la Tour du Pin recalled in her memoirs how her nurse was her mainstay and that, when she turned eleven and a governess was appointed instead, ‘I used to escape whenever I could and try to find her [the nurse}, or to meet her about the housei’ Another noblewoman, Vietorine de Chastenay, also wrote that her own mother alarmed her and dominated her, and that she took refuge with her nurse and her nurse’s family The rapports created in ancien régime childhood shape the matter of the stories, and the cultural model which places the Iiterati’s texts on the one side ofa divide, and popular tales on the other, can and should be redrawn: fairy mles act as an airy suspension bridge, swinging slightly under different breezes of opinion and economy, between the learned, literary and print culture in which famous fairy tales have come down to us, and die oral, illiterate, people's culture of the veillée; and on this bridge the traffic moves in both directions. Women writers like Marie—Ieanne L'Héritier and Marie-Catherine d'Aulnoy mediated anonymous narratives, the popular, vernacular cul- ture they had inherited through fairy tale, in spite of the aristocratic frippery their stories make at a first impression. Indeed, they offer rare and rich testimony to a sophisticated chronicle of wrongs and ways to evade or right them, when they recall stories they had heard as children or picked up later and retell them in a spirit of protest, of polite or not so polite revolt. These tales are wrapped in fantasy and Unreality, which no doubt helped them entertain their audiences—in the courtly salon as well as at the village hearth—but they also serve the stories‘ greater purpose, to reveal possibilities, to map out a diiierent way and a new perception of love, marriage, women's skills, thus advocating a means of escaping imposed limits and prescribed destinyi The fairy tale looks at the ogre like Blueheard or the Beast of ‘Beauty and the Beast’ in order to disenchant him; while romancing reality, it is a medium deeply concerned with undoing prejudice, Women of different social positions THE CONCEPT or CHILDHOOD AND CHILDREN‘S FOLKTALES 317 have collaborated in storytelling to achieve true recognition for their subjects: the process is still going on. t a . ZOHAR SHAVIT The Concept of Childhood and Children’s Folktales: Test Case—“Little Red Riding Hood"1‘ : a a Children’s literature today enjoys centrality in cultural awareness and constitutes such a sizeable proportion of new educational materials that it is hard to imagine publishing activity without it However, although children's literature is today a “natural" phenomenon taken for granted in any national literature, it is a relatively new development—less than two hundred years old. Books written especially for children were vir- tually unknown until the eighteenth century, and the children's book industry did not begin to flourish until the second half ofthe nineteenth century, when adult literature (in the modern sense) had already been established for at least one hundred years The reasons contributing to the late development of children’s lit- erature are diverse, but undoubtedly among the most impottant was the total absence of the concepts of “child" and “childhood” as we perceive them today. Before children’s literature could be written, "childhood" itself had to come into existence and receive recognition and Iegitimation as a distinct time period in the life of the individual, or in the words of Townsend: “Before there could be children's books, there had to be children—children, that is, who were accepted as beings with their own particular needs and interests, not only as miniature men and women.”1 In this article I will analyze along general lines and only in their principal features the creation and crystallization of the prerequisites for the development of Western children's literature—the development of the concept of the ”child" in culture—and I will examine the rela- tionships between this concept and texts written for children. In other words, I will ask how the nature of the concept of the child in literature and the meaning that has been given to the nature have to a large extent determined the character and the structure of texts for children, and how the changes that occurred in this concept were largely re- sponsible for the changes that came about in texts for children. In 1 From Little Red Riding Hood: A Casebook, ed. Alan Dundes (Madison: 11 at Wisconsin P, 1919) 129—52, 156—58. Origjmlly published in Hebrew in Imalem Studies in [mm Folklore 4 (I983)- 937124. Reprinted by emission. 1. 1. R. Tuwnsend, Written for Chiliimn (London: Penguin, 1977), 17. 318 ZOHAR SHAVIT attempting to answer these questions, I will use as a test case different versions of the folktale “Red Riding Hood.” The twentieth century is characterized by the almost obsessive use of the concept of childhood: issues about psychological, physical, and sexual pmhlems of the child do not cease to concern adults. The period of childhood is consideted the most impottant period in one's life, and an adult's behavior is often explained by his childhood expetiencest But such a perception of childhood is completely different from the cultural outlook that prevailed two hunched years ago—the concept of child- hood as we know it today did not exist then. In his classic work, Philippe AriesZ proposes the argument, supported by later research as well,3 that from the Middle Ages until the seven- teenth century a diHerent view of childhood dominated social con» sciousness, a view which began to develop and to change along lines familiar to us today beginning in the seventeenth century, passing through several transformations as one of the basic concepts ofWestem civilization. The Concept of Childhood up to the Seventeenth Century Up to the seventeenth century the child was not perceived as an entity distinct from the adult, and consequently he was not recognized as having special needs One of the results of this outlook was the lack of an established educational system for children, and of books wtit‘ten specifically for them. In the Middle Ages and the ensuing period neither the living con- ditions nor the prevailing theological standpoint allowed for the concept of childhood In the conceptual outlook of the day there was no room for the concept of childhood because of the identification between man and nature, as a result of which the iife cycle was described as analogous to that of nature, including only the petiods of birth, life, and death. In such a system thete was no place fot the period of childhood, the lack of which in the conceptual framework was no doubt sttengthened by the pom chances of survival of childien and their high mortality rate, which rendered theii continued existence utterly uncertain. In addition, the basic living conditions were a contributing factor: people weIe wed at a relatively young age, and therefore “left childhood"vin the modem sense of the term—at a very tender age. Uppetelass chil— dren took an active part in society from an extremely young age (10— 13), whereas children of the lower classes wete needed in the work fame, and began working at a tender age. Consequently, children who successfully survived the first dangerous years of life could not remain z, 17, Ariés,Centm-1'es ofChildhood (New York: Vintage, 1952). 3, I, Weher-Kellermann, Du Kindheit: Einz Kulturgeschxchte (Frankfurt a/M: Inse] Verlag, 1979), M -L, Hesse" and P, um Zahn,Zwe1' yammnde Kindhzit (Kain: vsc, 1979), THE CONCEPT OF CHILDHOOD AND CHILDREN’S FOLKTALES 319 children for long, and were quickly forced to enter the adult world and to become part of it. Relations between the Child's World and the Adult's World: From Unity to Polarization Up to the seventeenth century children were an integral part ofadult society, sharing clothing, lodging, games, and works Unity prevailed between children and adults in regard to all physical and psychic needsl A process of polarization began to undermine this unity from the sev- enteenth century on, as can be seen, for instance, from a discussion about the nature of the dress of children and adults of the upper class.‘ Up to the seventeenth century it was customary for children to wear a miniature version of the adults’ clothing as soon as they stopped wearing swaddling clothes, which occurred at a relatively late age (3—5 years), With the development of the concept of Childhood, the designing of special clothes for children also began. In general it can he said that the child's new wardrobe was characterized by items of attire which formerly belonged to the realm of adult wear and lost their function as such Children's clothes became systematized through a process of re- duction and at times also of simplification, and in the new system they also acquired a new function: they became a symbol of the separation of the world of children from that of the adult. Soon after certain items became children’s clothing, they were used exclusively for children, such as breaches, which formerly had been a standard item of adult attire, but later became a trademark of children's dress. Moreover, var— ious items of dress designated different stages of childhood, and per- mission to wear a certain item marked another stage in a child’s maturation, until finally he entered the adult world and began to dress as a tull-fledged adult, The process of the transformation of childhood was expressed in other aspects of daily life, such as children’s games, the educational system of the child, and even the fact that there was a special room in the house set aside for children, just as there were special rooms for the parent, for dining, and the like. As Aries points out, an interesting example of this process of the transformation of elements from the adult’s world to the world of the child and their consequent evolution into a trademark of the child's world is the case of the wooden rocking horses The horse, which had been a primary medium of transportation, lost this function for the adult world at the end of the nineteenth cen- tury. It did not disappear from the culture, but rather evolved through a process of reduction and simplification into the wooden horse of the nursery, where it acquired a new function as a toy. Moreover, in ad- 4. For an exhaustive discussion about this aspect, see Arrés, Centunzr of Childhood, 30-61; Plessen and von Zahn, Zwei luhmzusende Kmdhm't, 320 ZOHAR SHAVIT dition to this function it became a symbol diffetentiating the children's room from the adults’ room, and a sine qua non in nursery furnishings. (For a similar phenomenon, other dolls and miniature toys can be pointed to which otiginally had a ritual function fot adults and childien alike, but which later lost their ritual function, becoming not only part of the child’s worid, but his exclusive monopoly) Hence, in the pmcess of the formation of the concept of “child," there occurred a polarization between the adult’s and the child's world. The system of childhood began to be characterized by a series of ele- menm which migrated from the adult system to the child's system, and took on the function of diffetentiating between the two systems. The Spread of the Concept ofChiIdhood into Society: Two Concepts The polarization between the adults and the child's world and the spiead of the concept of childhood wete the result of many processes which occurred in Western society, especiaily the changes in social and material processes. The Industrial Revolution, the decrease in infant mortality, and the increase in life expectancy undoubtedly all played an important part in the development of the child concept, but changes in man's peteeption of the world during the Renaissance and the En- lightenment contributed considerably to the fact that the concept of “child" began to rise to consciousness before the physical conditions justified it, that is, before any change occurred in living conditions, and the change in these conditions later aided in the dissemination of the child concept among the middle class as well. The first signs of the fotmation of this child concept, and the tee» ognition that the child is a creature distinct from the adult, were already appatent at the end of the sixteenth century in the realm of painting, Here the child sewed a religious purpose—the infant )esus, Jesus and the Angels, and the like—heing depicted for the first time as sweet, angelic, and innocent, qualities which wete also to characterize the image of the child at a iatet date. In time this iconogtaphy acquired a decorative character (viz the paintings of Putt) beyond its original to- ligious nature, and images of children gradually began to undergo a process of secularization and to hold a dominant position in the realms of painting and iconography. These pictutes wete the epression of a perception of the child as different from the adult by virtue of the farmer's innocence, sweetness, and angelic appearance. Gradually de- pictions of children began to acquire their own legitimacy, and painting children’s portraits became more and more common Thus the depic- tion of children aided in the spread of the new concept of the child as possessing the qualities portmyed in the paintings, qualities which from THE CONCEPT OF CHILDHOOD AND CHILDREN’S FOLKTALES 321 the seventeenth century onward made children a source ofamusement for adults Regarding the child as a source of entertainment began to develop within the family circle. People no longer hesitated to acknowledge the diversion which children provided, and delighting in children, as well as in their sweetness, beauty, and witticisms, became fashionable among the upper classes. Children were invited to the parlor so that adults might be amused by them: the attitude towards children greatly resem- hled that assumed for cherished pet animals, Fleury described this at- titude as follows: “It is as if the poor children had been made only to amuse the adults, like little dogs or little monkeys"S This attitude began to arouse resistance among extrafamilia] groups, such as moralists and pedagogues, who were opposed to the fashion which prevailed in relation to children. Nevertheless, they accepted the principal concept of considering the innocent child who is closer to God as distinct from the adult, They used this very concept to justify their demand for separating children from the corrupt adult society. In contrast to the perception that was developing within the extended family circle, which saw the child as a source of amusement, a second perception of the child arose among groups which stood in opposition to the family: the church, the moralists, and the pedagogues, who, because of their awareness of his different nature, felt responsible for the spiritual development of the child. They believed that children need education and disciptine, and simultaneous with the new interest in the psychology ofthe child, they drafted a demand for an educational system that would satisfy these needs Henceforth the child was per- ceived as a delicate creature who must be protected, educated, and molded in accordance with the current educational beliefs and goals The way to shape children along these lines was first and foremost by means of books, which were considered the primary tool in achiev- ing these “pedagogical" goals This new “educational” perception of society, unlike the “amusement” perception which preceded it, created for the first time the need for children's books, and became the frame of reference in which the first books were written whose intended au- dience was specificatly children, Frorn then on official children’s books were written, based on an understanding of the child as the audience and of his needs, which were different from those of adults, When a change in this understanding came about, texts written for children changed as well, In order to investigate the relationship between the cultural concept of the child and the norms governing literature for children, I shall analyze as a test—case different versions of “Little Red Riding Hood." 5. Quoted in Ana, Centuries o/Childhood, 131. 322 ZOHAR SHAVIT The text of ”Little Red Riding Hood” has been chosen not only because it is a “classic" of children's literature, but also for reasons of method- ological convenience, as there is an extraordinary correspondence be- tween the periods in which the different versions of the text were produced and the parallel developments in the child concept and the changes which occurred in its Examining this text may therefore shed light an the link between the changes that took place in the child concept in Western civilization at different periods and the changes that occurred in the versions of the text in at least two ways: (1) un- derstanding the child’s needs and his comprehension capacity, and (2) seeing the manner in which the child and his world are presented in the texts themselves The examinatian of versions of “Little Red Riding Hood" will deal therefore with these questions and the way in which the “amusement" perception served as a basis for Perrault's version, its transformation into the “educational" version of the Brothers Grimm, and the further trans— formation of this version to the “protective" version of the twentieth century. ”Little Red Riding Hood": A Test Case ofAttitudes towards Folktales from the Seventeenth Century On We have seen how, in the process of the creation of the child con- cept, elements from the adult world have passed over to the child's world, becoming the exclusive property of the child, after previously being shared by adults and Children alike This process characterized modes of dress, games children played, and folktales, which gradually entered the child's world, until in the twentieth century they were con- sidered an essential component in his development (unlike the first half of the nineteenth century, when they were considered too dangerous for children and were removed from the canon of juvenile literature), Up until the nineteenth century, folktales were told and read, as were romances, by adults (even among the upper classes) Children, who constituted part of adult society, were acquainted with them in the same way, although the tales were not considered meant for them. However, starting from the second half of the seventeenth century a change oc- curred in the attitude of the upper class vis—éwis folktalest This was part of a general change in the prevailing literary fashions. Members of the literary elite, whose tastes were becoming more “sophisticated," re» garded folktales as too “simple" and “childish," suitable, in their esti— mation, only for children and members of the lower classes (who were seen as social equals by the elass—eonscious of the timet“ Despite this, it became fashionable to be interested in folktale: and to write tales modeled after oral tales, at times pretending to be setting down an oral 6. Ibid., 95-98, THE CONCEPT OF CHILDHOOD AND CHILDREN’S FOLKTALES 323 tale in written form (which was in some cases tme). Yet in spite of the fact that folktales wete in vogue, the writing and acceptance of them were based on the assumption that they were meant for children and the lower classes. Thus membets ofhigh society could enioy them only vicariously thtough children, but since the child was perceived in any case as a souice of amusement, adults could enjoy elements of the child's world while openly or covertly considering them part of the world of children, part of a culture different from that of the upper classes. Perrault's Version mat MANIFULATINC THE MODEL: THE AMBIGUITY 0F “Ln‘rLE RED RIDING Hoot)” ‘ ‘ ‘ Penault was the first person to set down ”Little Red Riding Hood" in writing. Scholars are still undecided on the question of whether or not Perrault‘s text is based on an existing folktale, mainly because of the atypical tragic ending of his text, a phenomenon un- heard of in folktalest At any rate, even those scholars who believe that his text is based on an original folktale agree that Penault doctmed the text, altering part of its formal structure in order to make it more sophisticated For instance, Perrault Changed the formulaic structure of the dia- logue, which is geneially characterized by completely symmetrical rep- etitionsi Petrault violated this semi-sacred symmetry in the following manner: The better to embrace you,— The better to run with,— The better to heat with,— The better to see with,— To eat you with7 Nevertheless, Perrault took pains to create the illusion of a folktale, mainly by means of stytistic devices, as Soriano asserts: ”An attentive study of vocabulary shows that many of the turns of phrase utilized by the taievtelier were alieady consideied old at that time—it is in sum a reconstitution, a sort of “in the manner of”8 The function of the stylizing of the text was not only to lend it the qualities of “authenticity" and “antiquity,” but also, and perhaps pri- marily, to emphasize who its official audience was. The desire to stiess the intended audience, that is, the child, would explain why Penault 7, Gilbert Ranger, ed., Cantu 11¢ Ptnault (Paris: Gamiu, 1967-1972), 115. Inlics are mine. 8. Marc Soriano, Le: Conn: «12 Permult (Pads: Gallimard, 1968), pp. 15451 3Z4 Zomn SHAVIT used in the text words which were at that time considered to belong exclusively to the language of children, words such as Ia bobinette and [a cheviIIette, which were not part of the accepted written language.9 The very act of inserting such vocabulary items into the texts was a striking departure from the norm, thus sewing an important stylistic function However, together with the attempt to characterize the work as "au- thentic" and as intended for children through the use of elements whose stylistic identity was clear> Penault did not hesitate to deviate
from the formulas of the folktale even at key points, such as the addition
of a tragic ending, or in typical stmctures, such as the repetitions In
this manner he created a text which cannot be considered unequivo-
cally either a folktale or a literary tale, possessing instead an ambiguous
nature
THE BASIS FOR THE AMBIGUOUS NATURE OF THE TEXT
It seems that the ambiguous nature of the text can be explained by
its official and unoflicial audience, This ambiguity enabled Perrault to
address two different audiences at one and the same time. On the one
hand, he was able to take advantage of the current peicepfion regarding
the appropriateness of folktales for Children in order to direct the text
officially to them, while at the same time availing himself of the com-
mon conception of the child as a source of amusement in order to
orient the text to the liteiary elite. However, in order to ensure that the
upper classes would read his work, he felt obliged to “equip” it with
signs that would indicate who the true audience was, while also making
possible the duplicity of the text While the folktale formulas designated
the official audience, the breaking of such f0n’nulas—«in addition to
lending an ironic and satirical aspect to the text—marked the unofficial
audience, the literary elitei Numerous aceounb from the period testify
to Periault’s success in attracting his unofficial audience to reading
these test—perhaps even more so than their officially intended au-
dience—as Muir states:
A feature of these salons, male and female alike, was the reading
aloud of pasquinades, vaudevilles, sonnets a bouts-Iirnés, and sim-
ilar short pieces: and the Comtesse d’Aulnoy seems to have intro«
duced the telling of fairy-stoiies in the female salonsi The idea
caught on and became the rage. The fashion eventually extended
to the male writers—The curious point to be taken is that the
stories were devised or adapted from ancient originals, for the
amusement not of children but of adults The consequence is that,
9 La bobinctte (wooden) latch; la ehcvillette: page [5411011.

THE CONCEPT OF CHILDHOOD AND CHILDREN’S FOLKTALES 325
although the characters and the background belong superficially
to fairy—tales, most of them are too sophisticated {at children‘
It is theiefore evident that Perrault, like many of his contemporaries,
did not wiite his famous tales for children alone, but also, or peihaps
mainly, for the pleasure of his friends. It seems that the following qua
nation about his contempotary Mlle l‘Héritier also applies to Perrault
himself: “Mademoiselle l’Héritier wrote for the amusement of her
f(iends and all of her writings bear the imprint of her ‘salon witi’ ”2
THE FUNCTION OF THE DUALITY OF THE INTENDED AUDIENCE
Penault had to emphasize the fact that children were the official
audience of his work because this was a condition for its acceptance
by high society Even scholars who see the text as meant primarily for
children agree that at least part of it is aimed at adults, as Soriano, for
example, says: “It is always addressed to an audience of Children, no
doubt, but at the same time allowing a wink in the direction of the
adult.”3
Whether the text was intended entirely for adults or only partially so,
there is no disagreement that the ironic and satirical tone of the text,
particularly as it is expressed in the tragic ending of the tale, is meant
for adults, and not for children. By means of the tragic ending, Penault
created a satire about the city gentleman who does not hesitate to take
advantage of the poor village gill. The text’s satirical nature depends
primarily on the moral, which comes at the end. From this ending it
is made clear that the wolf is not a real wolf, but rather represents all
sorts of people whom an innocent village girl must beware of:
Who does not know that these gentle wolves
Are of all such creatures the most dangerous,4
The depiction of the gentleman abusing the innocent village girl is
further strengthened in the text by the erotic elements that accompany
her description: her beauty, the color red which is her symbol, and of
course the erotic bed scene, in which she is surprised to discover what
“grandmother” looks like in bed, after the latter asks her to undress and
to come lie with her: “Little Red Riding Hood took off her cloak, but
when she climbed up on the bed she was astonished to see how her
grandmother looked in her nightgown”5 It is clear that the erotic aspect
encourages the reading of the text as the story of a gentleman exploiting
the innocence of a village girl and enjoying her charms, rather than
simply as the story of a little girl who is devoured by a wolf.
i. R Muir, English Childrm’: Book. (New Yolk: Frederick A. Praeger, 1969), 36.
i’ few-
4. Ranges, Come: dc Pervault, 115.
5. lbid., 114—115.

326 ZOHAR SHAVIT
The child concept of Perrault’s day provided the background fol Les
Contes and the mask necessary for their accepmnce by the literary elite.
However, in addition to the changes that later took place in the con-
ception of the child, the nature of the texts meanttor him also changed,
as well as in the way the child himself was depicted in different texts.
These changes wete among the factots causing the transformation of
”Little Red Riding Hood” from Pertault’s version to the later one that
the Brothers Grimm collected and committed to writing—along with
their own revisions and alterations—a century later.
Differences between Versions of “Little Red Riding Hood”:
Perrault vs, the Brothers Grimm
Folktalc research has dealt at length with the differences between
the bales of Penauit and diffetcnt versions of tales similar to his pub—
lished by the Brothers Ctimm. Scholars are divided tcgarding the ori—
gins of the texts and their degree of ”originality,” accounting for the
similarities and differences in them by various methods. Some explain
them using the historic‘geographic method,6 while others pxefer to look
at crossmultural relationships7 or the crossover from one national cul~
tute to anotheLa Othet researchers deny the possibility of a direct con-
nection between Perrault’s tales and those of the Btothets Grimm,
attributing the similarities and differences to the intermediary influ-
ences of Tieck, whom the Brothers Grimm Iefer to in theit commentary
on “Little Red Riding Hood”: ”Perrault’s ‘Little Red Riding Hood’
which Tieck elegantly rewotked in his romantic drama ‘ i .””
Rather than getting involved in this complex argument, or Iefuting
the conclusions of this or that researcher, I would like to propose an
alternative way of accounting for the differences between Perrauit’s ver-
sion and that of the Bmthets Grimm: One could also regard the dif-
ferences between the two as the result of the different perceptions of
the concept of childhood which prevailed in each of the two periods
in question, thereby yielding differing assumptions concerning the in-
tended audience and the manner in which the child is presented in
the texts.
In the hundred yeats that had passed since Perrault’s days, a revo-
lutionary change had taken place in the child concept, The “amuse~
ment” peiception of the child was replaced in the Grimm Bmthers’
day by an “educational” peiception which gave primary importance to
6‘ Reference to the Finnish School of folklore, which studies the origins and dissemination of
kles.
7‘ IV Bolts and G. Polkaa, Anmerkungen zu dm Kinder und Hausmarchm der Bn‘ldzr Grimm,
vol. 4 (Hildesheim. Georg Oims‘ 196? reprint of 1912 edition), 2617277.
8‘ H. V, Velten, “The Influence of Charles Penault’s Contes de ma Mere l’Oie on German
Folkloxe,” Germanic Review 5 (1930), L18.
9. Bmder Grimm, Kinder- und Hausmc‘irvhen, vol. 3 (Stuttgart Reclam, 1890), 59.

THE CONCEPT OF CHILDHOOD AND CHILDREN’S FOLKTALES 327
a new and heretofore unheard of concept: that of educating the child.
Consequently, an educational system evolved, the needs of which
largely dictated both the nature of works written for children, and above
all the literary models then dominating the literary scene.
The Brothers Grimm, like other writers of the mid-nineteenth cen-
tury, adopted the new image of the child, stressing his straightforward-
ness and the ability, uniquely his, to look at the world in a special way,
They expressed this view in the introduction to Kindzr- und Haus-
mfirchen, claiming to transmit the text from the child’s point of view:
“There runs throughout these narratives that quality of purity which
makes children appear to us so wonderful and happy The tales have,
so to speak, the selfsame shining eyes open as far as they can possibly
be while the rest of the body is still fragile, weak and unskilled for
earthly labor,”l
However, in contradistinction to Perrault, whose official audience
was the child, the Brothers Grimm did not intend their text for children
at first, although the book‘s title indicates the origin of the texts: they
were collected from household members—rnaidservants—and children.
The tales were first intended for adult members of the literary elite, for
the accepted literary tastes-a return to the primary sources and to
nature were in vogueaenabled them to enjoy such texts. The Brothers
Grimm did not have the option of directing their works to adults and
children at one and the same time, for according to the current child
concept, the child was seen as an entity distinct from the adult, with
different needs and capabilities of understanding, In order nevertheless
to enable children to read their tales, the Brothers Grimm thought it
necessary to revise them, gearing them to a Child’s level of understand-
ing, particularly from a stylistic point of view This they did starting
with the second edition, in the introduction to which they outlined the
principles that guided them in their endeavor to render the texm suit-
able for children
In spite of this, the Brothers Grimm still recognized the possibility
that there would be parents who would deem the book inappropriate
for their Children, forbidding them to read it: “Therefore we have taken
care to leave out of this new edition expressions which were not suitable
for children. Yet there may be objections. One or another parent may
find material embarrassing or offensive, so that they would not be com-
fortable putting the book into the hands of children In such well-
founded individual cases, the parents have an easy choice to make.”2
In this introduction, two new ideas are evident which apparently were
a major part of the changes that occurred in the text since Perrault’s
time. As stated above, one idea expressed the supposition that the child
1. 1m, 16.
2. um, 17‘

328 ZOHAR SHAVIT
is an entity distinct from the adult, The other expressed the belief that
the adult is responsible for satisfying the child’s needs, and that the
latter must be under his direct and constant supervision,
The differences between the versions of Perrault and the Brodlers
Grimm thus consist of more than just different assumptions about the
audience and the fact that in the Grimm text there is no trace of the
protracted game which Perrault played with his audience, Another strik-
ing difference between the texts is the distinctive way the child and
everything connected with him is presented in each. In the Grimm
version of “Little Red Riding Hood” the two beliefs that were combined
in the child concept of the time are evident, particularly in the portrayal
of intrafamilial relations, the simple honesty of the child, and the need
to guide and instruct him, These viewpoints will be treated here
through an examination of the differing tones of the two texts, and their
divergent endings, as well as less salient difference;
DIFFERENCES IN TONE AND ENDING
As many scholars have asserted, the most salient differences between
Perrault and the Brothers Grimm lie in the tone of the texts, ironic
versus naive, and in the ending, happy versus tragic.
It seems that the difference in tone is due to the differing intentions
of the authors. Whereas Perrault used satire and irony to address the
literary elite, the Brothers Grimm made a noticeable effort to preserve
the illusion of the naive narrator, considered crucial to the “authentic-
ity” of the text Although they freely admitted reworking the oral text
—-the written version is probably very different from it and closer to
Tieck’s3—they still tool: pains to keep intact the naive character of the
narrator, mainly by preserving the naive tone
The other striking difference is, as noted earlier, the ending. In Per-
rault’s version, the story ends when the wolf devours the girl, followed
by a moral in rhyming versei The Grimm version, on the other hand,
offers two alternative endings, the common denominator between them
being that the girl is not harmed in the end, In the first alternative, she
is punished—the grandmother and the girl are at first devoured by the
wolf, but are later rescued by the hunter, who also kills the wolf; how
ever in the second alternative the wolf is drowned before it has a chance
to harm the girl or her grandmother.
The drastic change in the nature of the tale’s ending, completely
changing its significance, raises the question why there was the need
to insert such an ending at all, apart from the question of whether or
3‘ R. H en, “Perrzults Marchen und die Erflder Grimm,” Zeitschrift fiir Deutscht Philologie
74(19 5), 3927410.

THE CONCEPT OF CHILDHOOD AND CHILDREN’S FOLKI‘ALES 329
not it was organic to the text.‘ In other words, what function did the
addition of this ending to the text serve?
It is clear that turning the tragic ending into a happy one was first
and foxemost the result of the need to fit the story into the pattern of
the folktale The happy ending is considered an indispensable com-
ponent of the folktale; it can be said to be a distinctive feature which
differentiates folktales {mm literary tales. Hence the Brothers Grimm,
or the anonymous narrator who added the happy ending (from the
point of view of the function of the ending it is immaterial who was
responsible for the addition, rather it is important to understand why it
was necessary) could not deviate from the pattern, unlike Penault, who
intentionally departed from it at decisive points in the story, However,
the selection of this specific ending has implications above and beyond
the folktale pattern, reflecting also the educational views of the days
According to these views, the child must deiive a moral lesson fmm
every event, expefience, OI story to which he is exposed. Punishment
was itself perceived as an integral part of the educational pmcess—and
in this respect the “Red Riding Hood” of the Bmthers Grimm was no
different It is interesting to note that the Brothers Grimm themselves
were pleased with the “educational” nature of the tales, seeing it as
further proof that the text was suitable for children.S
Bolte and Polivka6 suggest that this specific ending was chosen be-
cause it already existed in the folktale inventory in the tale “The Wolf
and the Seven Young Kids.” Because the wolf’s role as protagonist is
common to both tales, its choice presented a “natural” and ready—made
solution. Even if we accept this explanation, it does not contradict the
one offeied ahove. Moreover, we must not ignore the fact that in the
tale “The Wolf and the Seven Young Kids” the element of learning a
lesson is absent. This is a feature which exists only in the text of “Red
Riding Hood,” which strengthens the assumptions made about the text
regarding the education of the child and the process of rewatd and
punishment.
This difference between the versions of Penault and the Brothers
Grimm changed not only the ending of the text, but also its meaning
and morals Unlike Perrault’s Little Red Riding Hood, the Crirm’nsy
Little Red Riding Hood has the opportunity to leam a lesson, and
indeed avails herself of the opportunity. Whereas Penault’s moral em-
phasizes the wolf, thereby pointing to the gentleman from the city, the
moral of the Brothexs Grimm’s version stresses Little Red Riding Hood’s
learning a lesson, Thus the tale was transformed from a satire to a tale
about reward and punishment and learning a lesson,
4 On this question see Velteu, “The Influence oICharles Penault’s Comes de ma Mere l‘OieJ’
5. See theii introduction to the Kinder und Hammarchm, l7.
6. Bull: and Polivkz, Anmevl-ungen, vol, 1, 234437,

330 ZOHAR SHAVIT
The difference in emphasis in the two versions and in their general
significance explains the total omission of the erotic scene and the
erotic elements from the Grimm version, and was probably also the
reason {or some less obvious changes. In Penault’s version there are
only slight hints as to the relationship between family members, while
in the Crimm vetsion they are quite explicit. Examples include the
grandmother‘s love for the girl, the mother’s feeling of responsibility for
the grandmother, and the girl’s love for her grandmother.
While in Perrault’s version the grandmothet‘s love fot the girl is not
mentioned at all, in the Grimm version her love for Little Red Riding
Hood is boundless, and she makes her the red hood as a symbol of her
love. Hence the hood serves a different function in each of the two
versions: fot Perrault it symbolizes the girl’s eroticism, whereas for the
Brothers Grimm it is an expression of the grandmother’s deep love.
Perrault
The good woman made her a lit-
tle red hood, which became her
so well that everywhere she went
by the name of Little Red Riding
The Brothers Grimm
But it was her grandmother who
loved her most. She could never
give the child enough. One time
she made her a present, a small,
Hood.7 red velvet cap, and since it was so
becoming and the maiden in-
sisted on always wearing it, she
was called Little Red Cap.g
In the Grimm version, the mother’s feeling of responsibility for the
grandmother is far greater than in Perrault’s version. Whereas in Pet-
rault’s, the girl is sent to the grandmother’s house because the mother
has baked flat cakes and because she has heard that the grandmother
is sick, in the Grimm version the mother has precise knowledge of the
gtandmother’s condition, and consequently sends the girl to help hex.
1n the Grimm version family ties are much shonget than in Penault’s:
Permult
One day her mother, who had
just made and baked some cakes,
said to her: “Co and see how
your grandmother is, for I have
been told that she is ill. Take her
a cake and this little pot of but-
ter.””
7 Ron er, Came: d2 Permult, 113.
The Brothers Grimm
One day her mother said to het,
“Come, Little Red Cap, mke this
piece of cake and bottle of wine
and bring them to your grand-
mothet. She’s sick and weak, and
this will strengthen her.I
8, Ext: er Cximm, Kinder umi Hummdrchen, 156—157.
9, Rouget, Came: dz Permult, 113.
l, Bm er Grimm, Kinder und Hausmarchzn, 157.

THE CONCEPT OF CHILDHOOD AND CHILDREN’S FOLKTALES 331
The bond between the girl and her grandmother is also less haphaz-
ard in the Grimm version. In Perrault’s version, the girl picks flowers
for her own enjoyment alone, while in the Grimm version she picks
them to bring as a gift to her grandmother:
Permult
. . . and the little girl continued
on her way by the longer road. As
she went she amused herself by
gathering nuts, running after the
butterflies, and making nosegays
The Brothers Grimm
Little Red Cap looked around
and saw how the rays of the sun
were dancing through the trees
back and forth and how the
woods were full of beautiful flow-
of the wild flowers which she
found.2
ers, So she thought to herself, If
I bring Grandmother a bunch of
fresh flowers, she’d certainly like
that.‘
Family ties and the great amount of attention paid to children—a
phenomenon which was nonexistent in Perrault’s time‘—tool< on a cen- tral importance in the century following Perrault, and were apparently also among the reasons for the discrepancy between the texts in the presentation of family tiesl Similarly, different assumptions regarding the rearing of children are discernible in the two versions. In Perrault's day there was no educational system in the modern sense of the term, nor was the need for the systematic education of the child recognized. In the time of the Brothers Grimm, on the other hand, not only was an educational system already established, but it was seen as an essential condition for the normal development of the Child, and as part at the adult’s responsibility toward himr Views about children's education are expressed in the Grimm version first and fore- most in the directions which the mother gives the little girl about how she should conduct herself at her grandmother’s house, direction which are totally absent from the Perrault Version. The mother instrucb the girl to behave nicely: “And when you enter her room, don’t forget to say good morning, and don’t go peeping in all the cornersf’S She ad- monishes her not to turn off the path: “Get an early start, before it becomes hot, and when you're out in the woods, be nice and good and don't stray from the path, otherwise you’ll fall and break the glass, and your grandmother will get nothing"6 The girl does not obey, and is therefore punished However, she ultimately learns her lesson. What is even more important from an 2. Ron er, Comes .12 Permult, 114. 3, Bru er Crimm,Kinder-1md Haumrfirehzn, 153. 4. For a discussion at the development of the nuclear family, 5:: Ariés, 0mm“ arcmzdhmd, 139401 Brtider Grimm, Kindzr- und Haumuirchen, 137. lbid.37 w" 332 JACK Zmzs educational standpoint is the alternative ending of the text, which fur- nishes proof that the lesson has indeed been leamed: "Meanwhile, Little Red Cap thought to herself, Never again will you stray from the path by yourself and go into the forest when your mother has forbidden it,"7 Although the notion that adults are duty

FOLKLORE AND LITERATURE 379
tolklme poetics, but it is unable to explain them. To avoid the cum of
equating folklore with liteiature, we must ascertain not only how liter-
ature and folklore are alike, related, and to a certain extent identical in
nature, but also how they differ. Indeed, folklore possesses a number of
features so sharply differentiating it from literature that methods of lit-
erary research are insufficient for solving all its problems,
One of the most important differences is that literary works invariably
have an authoL Folklotc works, on the contrary, nevet have an authot,
and this is one of their specific features. The situation is quite clean
either we acknowledge the presence of folk art as a phenomenon in
the social and cultural history of peoples or we do not acknowledge it
and claim that it is a poetical or scientific fiction and that only indi-
viduals and groups can create poetry
We believe that folk art is not a fiction, that it really exists and that
the study of it is the basic objective of scientific folklore. ” ” ” What
older scholaiship felt instinctively and expressed naively, awkwardly,
and not so much scientifically as emotionally must now be purged of
romantic errors and elevated to the height of modem scholarship, with
its consistent methods and exact techniques
Brought up in the traditions of literatuie, we are often unable to
conceive that a poetical work can have aiisen not as a liteiary work
arises when created by an individual, It always seems to us that someone
must have been the fist to compose it. Yet it is possible for poetical
works to arise in completely different ways, and the study of those ways
is one of the most fundamental and complex problems of folklote. I
cannot go into this problem here and will only mention that in its
origin folklore should be likened not to literature but to language,
which is invented by no one and which has neither an author not
authors It arises everywhere and changes in a regulai way, indepen-
dently of people’s will, once there ate appropriate conditions for it in
the historical development of peoples. Univeisal similaiity does not
present a problem. It is Iather its absence that we would have found
inexplicable. Similarity indicates a regular process; the similarity of
woiks of folklore is a particulai case of the histoiical law by which
identical forms of pioduetion in material culture give rise to identical
or similar social institutions, to similar tools, and, in ideology, to the
similarity of forms and categories of thought, religion, rituals, languages,
and folklore. All of these live, influence one another, change, grow,
and diet
With regard to the problem of conceiving empirically the origin of
folklore, it will suffice to note that in its beginnings folklore can be an
integral part of ritual, Wim the degeneration or decline of a ritual,
folklore becomes detached from it and continues to live an independent
lifei ” ” ”
The distinction discussed here is so important that it compels us to

380 VLADIMIR PROPP
single out folklore as a special type of verbal art and the science of
folklore as a special discipliner A literary historian interested in the
origin of a work looks for its authorr The folklorist, with the aid ofbroad
comparative material, discovers the conditions that brought forth a plot.
But the difference between folklore and literature is not confined to
this distinction; they are differentiated not only by their origin but also
by their forms of existence.
It has long been known that literature is transmitted through writing
and folklore by word of mouth, Until now this distinction has been
considered to be purely technical. However, it captures the innermost
diflerence between the functioning of literature and folklore. A literary
work, once it has arisen, no longer changes. It exists only when two
agents are present: the author (the creator of the work) and the reader.
The mediating link between them is a book, manuscript, or perfor-
mance. A literary work is immutable, but the reader always changes.
Aristotle was read by the ancient Greeks, the Arabs, and the Humanists,
and we read him too, but all read and understand him difierently. True
readers always read creativelyr A work of literature can bring them joy,
inspire them, or fill them with indignation. They may wish to interfere
in the heroes‘ fortunes, reward or punish them, change their tragic fate
to a happy one, put a triumphant villain to death. But the readers, no
matter how deeply they are aroused by a work of literature, are unable
and are not allowed to introduce any changes to suit their own personal
tastes or the views of their age
Folklore also presupposes two agents, but different agents, namely,
the performer and the listener, opposing each other directly, or rather
without a mediating link.
As a rule, the performers‘ works are not created by them personally
but were heard earlier, so performers can in no way be compared with
poets reciting their own works. Nor are they reeiters of the works of
others, mere declaimers reproducing someone else’s work. They are
figures specific to folklore, and all of them, from the primitive chorus
to the folktale narrator ’ ’ ’ , deserve our closest attention, Performers
do not repeat their texts word for word but introduce changes into them,
Even if these changes are insignificant (but they can be very great),
even if the changes that take place in folklore texts are sometimes as
slow as geological processes, what is important is the fact of change—
ability of folklore compared with the stability of literature
If the reader of a work of literature is a powerless censor and critic
devoid of authority, anyone listening to folklore is a potential future
performer, who, in turn, consciously or unconsciously, will introduce
changes into the work. These changes are not made accidentally but
in accordance with certain lawsl Everything that is out~of~date and in—
congruous with new attitudes, tastes, and ideology will be discarded.
These new tastes will affect not only what will be discarded but also

FOLKLORE AND LITERATURE 381
what will be reworked and supplemented. Not a small (though not the
decisive) role is played by the narrator’s personality, taste, views on life,
talents, and creative abilities. A work of folklore exists in constant flux,
and it cannot be studied in depth if it is Iecorcled only once. It should
be recotded as many times as possible. We call each recording a variant,
and these variants are something completely different from a version of
a work of literature made by one and the same person.
Folklore circulates, changing all the time, and this circulation and
changeahility are among ib specific characteristics‘ Literary works can
also be drawn into the orbit of this circulation. For example, Mail:
Twain’s Prince and the Pauper is told as a folktale. ’ ‘ ‘
What do we have in this instance: folklore or literatute? The answer
is fairly simple. If, for example, a story from a chapbook, a Saint’s life,
or the like, is recited from memory with no changes from the original,
or if “The Black Shawl” or an excerpt from The Peddlers are sung
exactly as Pushkin and Nekrésov wrote them, this case diKers little from
a performance on the stage or anywhere else. But as soon as such songs
begin to change, to be sung differently, as soon as they begin to form
varianb, they become folklore, and the process of their change is the
folklorist’s domain. To be sure, there is a difference between folklore
of the first sort, which often otiginated in prehistoric times and has
variants all over the world, and poets’ VEISCS, freely used and tansmitted
by word of mouth, In the first case, we have pure folklore, that is,
folklore both by origin and by transmission; in the second case, folklore
ofliterary origin, that is, folklore by transmission but literature by origin.
This distinction must always be kept in mind‘ A song that we consider
pure folklore can turn out to be literary, can have an authori ” ” “
Such examples are numerous, and ties between literature and folklore,
as well as the literary sources of folklore are among the most interesting
subjecb both in the history of litetature and in folklore
This case again btings us to authorship in folklore. We have taken
only two extreme cases. The first is folklore that was created by no one
individual and arose in prehistoric times within the framewotk of some
ritual or in some other way and that has survived through oral tans-
mission to the present. The second case is obviously an individual’s
recent work circulating as folklore In the development of both litera
ture and folklore, between these two extremes occm all sorts of inter-
mediate forms, each of which is a special problem Modern folklorists
are well aware that such problems cannot be solved descriptively, syn-
chronically, but should be studied in their development. The genetic
study of folklore is just one part of historical study, for folklore is not
only a literary but also a historical phenomenon and the science of
folklore not only a literary but also a historical discipline.

382 VLADIMIR PROPP
VLADIMIR PROPP
From Morphology of the Folktalel
The Method and Material
Let us first of all attempt to formulate our task. As already stated in
the foreword, this work is dedicated to the study of fairy tales The
existence of fairy tales as a special class is assumed as an essential work-
ing hypothesis, By “fairy tales” are meant at present those tales classified
by Aame under numbers 300 to 749, This definition is artificial, but
the occasion will subsequently arise to give a more precise determina-
tion on the basis of resultant conclusions. We are undertaking a com~
parison of the themes of these mles. For the sake of comparison we
shall separate the component parts of fairy tales by special methods;
and then, we shall make a comparison of tales according to their com-
ponents. The result will be a morphology (Let, a description of the tale
according to its component parts and the relationship of these com-
ponents to each other and to the whole).
What methods can achieve an accurate description of the tale? Let
us compare the following events:
1. A lsar gives an eagle to a hero. The eagle carries the hero away
to another kingdoml
2. An old man gives SfiEenko a horse. The horse carries Sfibenko
away to another kingdom.
3. A sorcerer gives Ivén a little boat. The boat takes Ivén to another
kingdom.
4‘ A princess gives Ivén a ring Young men appearing from out of
the ring carry lvén away into another kingdom, and so forth,
Both constants and variables are present in the preceding instances.
The names of the dramatis personae change (as well as the attributes
of each), but neither their actions nor functions change From this we
can draw the inference that a tale often attributes identical actions to
various personages, This makes possible the study of the tale according
to the functions of its dramatis personae.
We shall have to determine to what extent these functions actually
represent recurrent constants of the tale. The formulation of all other
questions will depend upon the solution of this ptimary question: how
many functions are known to the tale?
t From Vladimi! Propp. Morphology nnhe Folktale, trans. Laurence Scott (Austin: U ofTexas
P, 1953) 19—24. Copyright © 1968. Reprinted by permlssion of University of Texas Fuse

MORPHOLOGY OF THE FOLKTALE 383
Investigation will reveal that the recurrence of functions is astound-
ing, Thus Béha Iaga‘, Morézko, the bear, the forest spirit, and the
mate’s head test and reward the stepdaughteri Going furthet, it is
possible to establish that Characters of a tale, however varied they
may he, often perform the same actions. The actual means of the re-
alization of functions can vary, and as such, it is a variable Morézko
behaves differently than Béba Jagéi But the function, as such, is a
constant. The question of what a tale’s dramatis personae do is an
important one far the study of the tale, but the questions of who does
it and how it is done already fall within the province of accessory
study. The functions of characters are those cumponents which could
replace Veselévskij’s “motifs,” or Bédier‘s “elements.” We are aware
of the fact that the repetition of functions by various characters was
long ago observed in myths and beliefs by historians of religion, but
it was not observed by historians of the tale. “ ” “ Just as the char-
acteristics and functions of deities are transferred from one to another,
and, finally, ate even carried over to Christian saints, the functions of
certain tale personages are likewise transfen’ed to other personages.
Running ahead, one may say that the number of functions is exhernely
small, whereas the number of personages is extremely large. This ex-
plains die twofold quality of a tale: its amazing multiformity, pictur-
esqueness, and color, and on the other hand, its no less striking
uniformity, its repetition.
Thus the functions of the dramatis personae are basic components
of the tale, and we must first of all extract them. In order to extract the
functions we must define themi Definition must proceed from two
points of view First of all, definition should in no case depend on the
personage who carries out the function. Definition of a function will
most often be given in the form of a noun expressing an action (inter-
diction, interrogation, flight, etc} Secondly, an action cannot be de-
fined apart from its place in the course of narration. The meaning
which a given function has in the course of action must be considered,
For example, if Ivan marries a Lsar’s daughter, this is something entirely
difl’erent than the marriage of a father to a widow with two daughters.
A second example: if, in one instance, a hero receives money from his
father in the form of 100 rubles and subsequently buys a Wise cat with
this money, whereas in a second case, the hero is rewarded with a sum
of money for an accomplished act of bravery (at which point the tale
ends), we have before us two morphologically different elements—in
spite of the identical action (the transference of maney) in both cases.
Thus, identical acts can have different meanings, and vice versa. Func-
tion is understood as an act of a character, defined from the point of
view of its significance for the course of the action
The observations cited may be briefly fotmulated in the following
manner:

384 VLAmMm PROP?
1. Functions of characters serve a: stable, constant elemznm in a
£412, independent of how and by whom they are fulfilled They
constitute the fundamental components of a tale
2. The number offimctions known to the fairy tale is limited,
If functions are delineated, a second question arises: in What classi-
fication and in what sequence aie these functions encountered?
A word, first, about sequence. The opinion exists that this sequence
is accidental Veselévskij writes, “The selection and order of tasks and
encounters (examples of motifs) already presupposes a certain freedom”
Sklévskii stated this idea1n even sharper terms: “It15 quite impossible
to understand whyy, in the act of adoption, the accidental sequence
[Sklévsltijs italics] of motifs must be retained In the testimony of wit-
nesses, it is piecisely the sequence of events whichls distorted most of
all.” This reference to the evidence of witnesses is unconvincing, If
witnesses distort the sequence of events, their nartation is meaninglessi
The sequence of events has its own lawsi The short story too has similar
laws, as do organic formations. Theft cannot take place before the door
is forced. Insofar as the tale is concerned, it has its own entirely partic-
ular and specific laws. The sequence of elements, as we shall see later
on, is strictly unifonni Freedom within this sequence is restricted by
very narrow limits which can be exactly formulated. We thus obtain
the third basic thesis of this work, subject to further development and
verification:
3. The sequence of functions is always identicaL
As for groupings, it is necessary to say first of all that by no means
do all tales give evidence of all functions. But this in no way changes
the law of sequence, The absence of certain functions does not
change the orde1 of the rest We shall dwell on this phenomenon later,
F01 the present we shall deal with groupings in the propei sense of the
word The presenmtion of the question itself evokes the following as-
sumption: if functions are singled out, then it will be possible to trace
those tales which present identical function; Tales with identical func-
tions can be considered as belonging to one type, On this foundation,
an index of types can then be created, based not upon theme features,
which are somewhat vague and diffuse, but upon exact structural fea—
tures Indeed, this will be possible If we further compare structural
types among themselves, we ate led to the following completely unex-
pected phenomenon: functions cannot be distributed around mutually
exclusive axes. This phenomenon, in all its concreteness, will become
apparent to us in the succeeding and final chapters of this book. For
the time being, it can be interpreted in the following manner: if we
designate with the letter A a function encountered everywhere in first
position, and similarly designate with the letter B the function which

MORPHOLOGY OF THE FOLKTALE 385
(if it is at all present) always follows A, then all functions known to the
tale will arrange themselves within a single tale, and none will fall out
of order, not will any one exclude or contradict any other. This is, of
course, a completely unexpected result, Naturally, we would have ex-
pected that where there is a function A, there cannot be certain func-
tions belonging to other talesi Supposedly we would obtain several axes,
but only a single axis is obtained for all fairy tales. They are of the same
type, while the combinations spoken of previously are subtypes. At first
glance, this conclusion may appear absurd or perhaps even wild, yet it
can be verified in a most exact manner. Such a typological unity rep-
resents a very complex problem on which it will be necessary to dwell
further. This phenomenon will raise a whole series of questions
In this manner, we arrive at the fourth basic thesis of our work:
4. All fairy tales are of one type in regard to their structure.
We shall now set about the task of proving, developing, and elabo-
rating these theses in detail Here it should be recalled that the study
of the tale must be carried on strictly deductively, i.e., proceeding from
the material at hand to the consequences (and in effect it is so canied
on in this work). But the presentation may have a reversed order, since
it is easier to follow the development if the general bases ate known to
the {cadet beforehand.
Before starting the elaboration, however, it is necessary to decide
what material can serve as the subject of this study. First glance would
seem to indicate that it is necessary to cover all extant material, In fact,
this is not so, Since we are studying tales according to the functions of
their dramatis personae, the accumulation of material can be suspended
as soon as it becomes apparent that the new tales considered present
no new functions. Of course, the investigator must look through an
enormous amount of reference material But there is no need to inject
the entire body of this material into the study We have found that 100
files constitute more than enough material. Having discovered that no
new functions can be found, the morphologist can put a stop to his
work, and further study will follow difl’erent directions (the formation
of indices, the complete systemization, histotical study) But just be-
cause material can be limited in quantity, that does not mean that it
can be selected at one’s own discretion. It should be dictated from
without. We shall use the collection by Afanés’ev, starting the study of
tales with Not 50 (according to his plan, this is the first fairy tale ofthe
collection), and finishing it with No. 151.1 Such a limitation of material
will undoubtedly call forth many objections, but it is theoretically ius—
tified. To justify it further, it would be necessary to take into account
1. Pmpp bases his znzlyses on one hundted tales from Alexandel Afznascv’s Rwian Faivy Tales.
inns. Noxhen Guterman (New York: Pantheon, 1945) [Editor].

386 VLADIMIR PROP?
the degree of repetition of tale phenomena. If repetition is great, then
one may take a limited amount of material. If repetition is small, this
is impossible. The repetition of fundamental components, as we shall
see later, exceeds all expectations. Consequently, it is theoretically pos-
sible to limit oneself to a small body of material. Ptactically, this limi-
tation justifies itself by the fact that the inclusion of a great quantity of
material would have excessively ineleased the size of this work. We are
not interested in the quantity of material, but in the quality of its anal-
ysis. Our working material consists of 100 tales. The rest is reference
material, of great interest to the investigator, but lacking a broader
interest.
a x n:
Propp’s Thirty—One Functions
1. One of the members of a family absents himself from home
(absentionl
An interdiction is addiessed to the hem (interdiction).
The interdiction is violated (violation)
The villain makes an attempt at reconnaissance (reconnais-
sance).
The villain receives information about his victim (delivery),
The villain attempts to deceive his victim in order to take
possession of him or his belongings (trickery).
The victim submits to deception and thereby unwittingly helps
his enemy (complicity)
8, The villain causes harm or injury to a member of the family
(villainy).
83. One member of a family either lacks something or desires to
have something (luck).
9. Misfortune or lack is made known; the hero is approached
with a request 0! command; he is allowed to go or he is dis—
patched (mediation, the connective incident).
10. The seeker agrees to or decides upon countemction (beginning
counteraction)
Ill The hero leaves home (departure).
12. The hero is tested, interrogated, attacked, etc, which prepares
the way for his receiving eithet a magical agent or helpet (the
first function of the donor).
13. The hero reacts to the actions of the future donor (the hero’s
reaction)
14. The hero acquires the use of a magical agent (provision or
receipt of a magical agent)
15. The hem is hansfened, delivered, at led to the whereabouts
of an object of search (spatial transference between two king-
doms, guidance)
*
W
P
’
N
F
Y
‘

16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21‘
22.
23.
24,
25‘
26,
27,
28,
29,
30.
31.
N
Q
‘
M
é
v
‘
N
I
”
Pkovr’s DRAMATIS PERSONAE 387
The hero and the villain ioin in direct combat (struggle).
The hero is branded (branding, marking)
The villain is defeated (victory).
The initial misfortune or lack is liquidated (liquidation).
The hero retums (retum).
The hero is pursued (pursuit, chase).
Rescue of the hero fi’om pursuit (rescue).
The hero, unrecognized, arrives home or in another country
(unrecognized arrival).
A false hem presents unfounded claims (unfounded claims)
A difficult task is proposed to the hero (difficult task).
The msk is resolved (solution).
The hero is recognized (recognition).
The false hero or villain is exposed (exposure).
The hero is given a new appearance (transfiguration).
The villain is punished (punishment).
The hero is married and ascends the throne (wedding).
a u a
Propp’s Dramatis Personae
Villain
Donor or provider
Helper
Princess (3 sought—for person) and her father
Dispatcher
Hem
False Hero

Selected Bibliography

ANTHOLOCIES
Abtahams, Roger D., camp. ‘can Folktales. New York: Pantheon 1983.
Afanase’v, Alexander, comp. ussian Fairy Tales. Trans. Norbert Cuterman. New
Ymk: Pantheon 1945.
Andemn, Hans Christian. Eighty Fairy Tales. Trans. R. P. Keigwin. New York:
Pantheon. 1976.
Ange’igglei 9}? Trans. Richard F. Burton. Ed. David Shumaker, New York: Avenel
Asyljumsen, Peter Christian, and lérgen Mae, comps. Pofular Tales from the Norse.
tans. Sir George Webbe Dasent New York: D. A Eton, 1859.
. Norwegian Folktales. New York: Pantheon l ,
Basile, Ciambatfism. The Pentamerone 0f Giaméam-sm Basile. Trans. Benedetto
Croce. Ed. N. M. Panzer. 2 vols. London: John Lane the Bodley Head, 1932.
Blecher. bone T’hyFnsen, and George Blecher. Swedish Tales and legends. New
York: Paniheon, 993.
Bri§gs, Kaiharine M. A Dictionarkaf British FoIkrTuIex in the English Language,
vols.10ndoanoutledge and cgan Paul 1970—71.
, and Ruth L. Tongue. Folktaleslngn land. Chicago: U ofChicago P, 1965.
Bushnaq, lnea, comp, Amb Folktales. ew ork: Pantheon, 1986.
Callgsné), Italo, comp. Italian Folktales. Tmns. George Martin. New York: Pantheon,
Calrfiefié Angela. The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories. Hannondswonh: Penguin,
—, ed. The Second Virago Book 0 Fairy Tales. London: Virago Press, 1992.
h, ed. The Virago Book of Fairy ales. London: Vita o Press 1990.
Chase, Richald, comp. American Fall: Tales and Son s. ew Yuri: Si el, 1956.
Clarkson, Atelia, and Gilbert B. Cross, com . World alktaks: A Scn’ ner Resource
Collection. New York: Charles Scribner’s Eons, 1980.
Crfésslgy-Holland, Kevin, comp. Folktales of the British Isles. New York: Pantheon,
Dahl, Roald. Revoltin Rhymes. London: onzthan Ca e, 1982.
Dalim, 618$? Web 8, Comp. East 0′ x 2 Sun and Rm: 0′ the Moon. Toronto:
ver .
Daltlgxgwl‘, Ellen, and Terri Windling, eds. Black Thom, White Rose. New York: Avon,
—. Snow White, Blood Red. New York: William Morrow, 1993.
Dawkins, R. M., comp. Modem Creek Folktales. Oxford: Clarendon 1953.
Dclarue, Paul, Com . Borzoi Book af French Folk Tales. New Yolk: knoff, 1956.
Dotson, Richard filw comp. American Negm Folktales. New Yor : Fawcen
Publications, 1968.
. Buyin the Wind: Regional Folklore of the United Slates. Chicago: U of
Chica o P. 964.
. olhales Told Around the World. Chica 0: U of Chic 0 P, 1975.
Eberhard, Wolfram, comp. Folktalex of China. hicafio: U ofaéhiczgo P, 1965.
Erdocs Richard, and Alfonso Ortiz, comps. American yths and legends. New York:
Ffinmem’sm‘.’ Th 5 n s M h ”I fh Ae mann, “San com . e to 2 1″” tone: S an q es 0 t 2 mEHBLlII
Indians. New York: 3c”. 1955″ g yr
Grimm, Jacob, and Wilhelm Grimm. Th2 Com late Fairy Tales of (he Brothm
Grimm. Tmns. lack Zipes. Toronto: Bantam, l 87.

389

390 SELECTED B1BL1OGRAP1-nr
Hallett, Martin, and Baxbara Karasek, comp. Folk and Fairy Tales. Peterborough,
Ont: Bmadview Press, 1991.
Heam, Michael Pahick, comp. Victorian Fairy Tale Book. New York: Pantheon,
1988.
Jacobs, ?selih comp. CelticFai Tales.London:D.Nutt.189Z.
hg hh Fairy Tales 189 . London: Bodley Head, 1968.
n?g?fmdrew, comp. The Iue airy Book (1889). New York: DoverPublications,
— The Green Fairy Book (1892). New York: Dover Publicafions 1974.
The Pink Fairy Book 31897). New York: Dover Publications, 1974.
The Red Fm’ Book g 890 1 New York: Dover Publications, 1974,
. Yellow Fairy’goolz (l 94). ew York: Dover Publications 1974.
Lurie, Alison comp. Clever Gretchen and Other Forgotten Foihmles. New York:
Crowd], 1980.
1 The Oxford Book of Modern Fairy Tales. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1993.
Massignon, Ceneviéve, com . Folktales 0/ 17mm, Trans. Jacqueline Hyland. Chiv
ca 0: U of Chicago P, 1988.
M1: e1, Wolfgang, comp. Disenchanlments: An Anthology 0/ Modern Fairy Tale
Poe . Hanover, NH: UP of New En 12nd, 19851
Mina , Rosemary. Women 1!: and Fairy ales. Boston: Hou 1mm Mifflin, 1975.
Mofiomerie, Norah, 2nd illiam Mon’figmerie comps. T 2 Well a! the World’s
E : Folk Tales 0/ Scotland. Toronto: e Bod}? Head, 1955.
Nag, ngng, comp. Folktales of Israel. Trans. Gene ahamv. Chicago: U of Chicago
Oplisfifeler, and Iona Opie, comp. The Classic Fairy Tales. London: Oxford UP.
Permult, Chaxles. Pendult’s Comglete Fairy Tales. Trans, A. E. Johnson e1 al. New
York: Dodd, Mead. 1961.
Phelps, Ethel ohnsmn, comp. The Maid of the Nan‘h: Feminist Folk Tales from
Around the orld. New York: Holt Rinehart and Winskon, 81.
. Tatterhood and Other Tales. Old Westbury, N.Y.: Femini Press, 1978.
Philip, Neil, comp The Cinderella Story: The Origins and Variations of the Story
Known as “Cinderella”. London: Penguin, 1989.
P0119939, Henri, comp. French Folktales. Tlans. Royall Tyler. New York: Pantheon,
Ramanu’an. A. K, comp. Folktales from India. New Yolk: Random House, 1991.
Randal , Vance, comp. Pissing in the Snow and Other Ozark Folktales. Urbana:
U 0119111111015 P, 1976.
UP .1592;ng in the Kmpsaclz and Other Ozark Folk Tales. New York: Columbia
Ranke, Kurt, comg. Folktales of Germany. Trans. Lotte Baumann. Chicago: U of
Chiea o P, 196 .
Rugoff, ilton A,. Comp. A Harvest of World Folk Tales. New Yotk: V‘kin , 1949.
SirFPSQH,l}alc ufline, comp. Icelandic Folktales and Legends. Berkeley: of Cali-
om1a , .
Ska arola, Giovanni Francesco. The Facefious Ni hrs of Shaparola. Transe W, C.
alcrs. 4 vols. Landon: Society of Bibliophiles, 901.
Thomgson, 511111, comp. One Hundred Favorite Folktales. Bloomington: Indiana UP,
196
. Tales of the North American Indians. Bloomington: Indiana up, 1929,
Travers, P. L, comp. About the SIee ing Beau . New York: McCraw-Hil], 197;.
Walker, Barbara c. Feminist Fairy ales. New 011: Ha er Collins. 1996.
Weimich, Beatrice Silverman comp. Yiddish Folktales. N’ew Yoxk: Pantheon, 1988,
Williams, fly. The Practical fihhcm and Other Liberating Fairy Tales. New 11011::
is

Parems azine Press / London: Chatto 3nd Windus, 1979,
Yolen,flane. avarite Folktales from Around the World, New York: Pantheon, 1986.
Zi es, ack, comp. Beauties, Beasts and Enchantment: Classic Fairy Tales. NewYork:
ew Amencan Libmry, 1959.
. Don’t Bet on the Prince: Contemporary Fairy Tales in North America and
England. New York: Me11111en, 1986.
. The Outspoken Princesx and the Gentle Knight: A Treasury ofModem Fairy
Tales. New York: Bantam, 1994.
. Spells of Enchantment: The Wondrous Fairy Tales of Western Culture. New
York: Viking, l9 .
. Victorian Fairy Tales. The Revolt of the Fairies and Elves. New York:
Routledge, 1987.

SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY 391
CRITICAL STUDIES
‘1ndicates works included or excerpted in (his Norton Clitical Edition.
~Aame, Anni, and 511111 Thomgson. The Type: of the Fulhale. A Classification and
Bibliograpg}. Helsinki: Aca emia Scienharum Fennica, 1961.
Bacchilega, Iistina. Postmodern Fai Tales: Gender and Nanutive Strategies. P1111-
adcl 11m: U of Pennsylvania P, 19 7.
Bambi on, acques. “Beau and the Beast: From Myth to Fairy Tale.” Psychoanalysis
and the ?chmmulytic iew 46 1959}: 19—29.
, and eter Flindets. Charles errau 1. Boston: Twayne Publishers 1981.
Baggilai, Shuli. ”Reading ‘Snow White’: The Mother’s Story.” Signs 50 (1990): 515—
Beh1mer Rud . “They Called 11 ‘Disney’s Folly‘: Snow White and the Seven
gggrfg (193 ).” America’s Favufile Movies: Behmd the Scenes. New York: Ungar,
Be“, Elizabeth Lynda Haas, and Laura Sells. eds. From Mouse to Mermaid: The
Politics of Film, Gender, and Culture. Blmminglt‘zn: Indiana UP, 1995.
-Bettelheim, Bruno. The Uses ofEnchantment: The earring and Impedance ofFairy
Tales, New York: Kno f, 1976.
Botfigheimer, Ruth B. “ airy Tales and Children’s Literature: A Feminist Pets ec-
tive.” 1n Tenchifi Children’s Literature: Issues, Peda ogy, Resolnces. Ed. 1en
Edward Sadler. ew York: Modem Lan uage Associa Ion of America, 1992.
. Fairy Tales and Society: Illusion, A usxon, and Paradigm. Philade1p11ia: U of
Perms lvznia P, 1986.
én’mms’ Bad Girls and Hold Boys. New Haven: Ya1e UP, 1987.
an , Katharine. An Encyclopedia 0 Fairies: Hobgoblin: Brownies, Bngies, and
erSu matural Creatures. New ork: Pantheon, 197 .
Bwnfen, E isabeth. Over Her Dead Body: Death, Femininity and the Aesthetic. New
York: Routle , 1992.
B M, Sglvia. “ eConstrucling Oedipus through ‘Beauly and the Eeast.’ ” Criticism
1 (19 9%: 439—53.
Canham, 1e hen. “What Manner of Beast? Illustrations of ‘Eeauty and the
Beast.’ ” 1n ma 2 and Maker: An Annual Dedicated to the Consideramm of Book
111(glég4tration. mgHamld Darling and mu Neumcyer. La 10112: Green Tige! Pless,
Carter, An e12, ed. “About the Stories.” In Sleeping Beauty and Other Favourite
Fairy Ta 25. Boston: Otter Books, 1991.
Cech, on. “Hans Christian Andersen’s Fairy Tales and Stories: Seclets, Swans and
She ows,” 1n Tuuchstones: Reflections on the Best in Children’s Literature. V01. 2.
West Lafayette Indiana: Children’s Literature Assn, 1983.
Cux, Marian Roa1fe. Cinderella: Three Hundred and F0 .fiw,» Variants afCindereIla,
Cdkhirl, and Cup 0′ Rushes. Ed, Andrew Lang. Lon on: David Nun, 1893.
‘Damton, Robert ‘ Peasants Te11 T21es: The Meaning of Mother Goose.” In The
Great Cat Massacre and Other Episodes in French Cultural Hixtury. New York:
Basic Books, 1984.
MP, Linda. Folktales and Society: Storytelling in a Hun arizm Peasant Community,
rans.Em11y M. Schossbelgen Bloomington: Indiana P, 1969.
Delame Pan]. “Les Comes merveilleux de Permul! et la tradition pulaire.” Bul-
12′?” folklun’que de I’Ue-de-Fmrlce (1951): 221—28, 251—60, 283— 1; (1953): 511—
Doba Rifeli, Carol de. “Cendrillon and the Ogre: Women in Fairy Tales and
53 e.” Ramam’c Review 81 (1990): 11724.
Dotson, Richard. Folklove. Eloomi on: Indiana UP, 1972.
Dowli , Colette. The Cinderella omplex: Women’s Hidden Fear ufindependence.
New ark: Summit Books, 1981.
Dundes, Alan. “Bruno Benelheim’s Uses of Enchantment and Abuses of Scholar»
ship.” numal ofAmerican Folklore 104 1991): 74-83.
F lgssinderella: A Casebook. New York: ar1and, 1982; Madison: U ofWisconsin
—. Little Red Ridi Hood: A Casebook. Madison: U of Wisconsin P, 1989.
. The Study 0 F0 Hare. Eng1ewood Cliffs: Prentice H311 1965.
Edelson, Maria, e Lan uz§e of Allegoz in Oscar Wilde’s Tales.” InA Iu-In’sh
and Irish Literature. E . irgi! Bram: fick and Martin Croghan. Stoc helm:
Almqvist 2nd Wiksell and Bromsbfick, 1988.

392 SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY
Edwards, Carol L. “The Fai Tale ‘Snow White,’ ” In Making Connection across
the Curriculum: Reach x rAnalysixt New York: St. Martins Press, 1986.
Edwards, Lee R. ”The La rs cf Psyche: Toward 2 Theory of Female Heroism.”
Critical In uiry 6 (1979): 33.49
Ellis, John. ne Fairy Storé Tea Many: The Bmthem Grimm and Their Tales. Chi»
cago: U ofChic o P, 1 82.
Farrel, Claire, edt amen and FoIkIure. Austin: U of Texas P, 1975.
FIISHZ’ksMIggTI-mse von‘ Archetype! Patterns in Fairy Tales. Toronto: Inner City
on .
1972 Problems of the Feminine m Fairy Tales, New York: Spring Publications,
-Gil|>ert, Sandra M., and Susan Gubar. “The ueen’s Lookin Glass.” In The Mad-
wamun in the Attic- The Woman Writer a the Nineteenth entwy Literary Imag-
ination, New Have . Yale UP, 1979.
Girardot N. I. “Initiation and Meaning in the Tale of Snow White and the Seven
Dwarfs.” oumal ofAmerican Folklore 90 (1977 : 274~300I
Granbech, u. Hans Christian Andersen. Boston: Wayne, I980.
-Haase, DomId. “Yours, Mine, or Ours.7 Penault, the Brothels Grimm and the Own-
ershi of Fairy Tales.” In Once Upon a Folktale: Capturin the Folklore Process
with hliggn. Ed. Clam T. Blatt. New York: Teachers Co egc, Columbia Uni-
vers: , .
,tyed. The Reception of Crimms’ Fairy Tales: Responses, Reactions, Revisions.
Detroit: Wayne State UP 1993.
Hanks, Carole, and D. T. I-Ianks, IL “Permult’s ‘LiltIe Red Riding Hood’: Victim of
the Revisers.” Children’s Literature 7 1978): 63—77.
Hazr‘t‘limd, E. Sidney. ”The Forbidden C amber.” Fqu-Lore Ioumal 3 (1885): I93—
Hcame, Betsy. Beauty and the Beast: Vision: and Revision: ofzm Old Tale. Chicago:
U of Chica o P I989.
Holbck, Bcngi The Interpretation of Fairy Tales: Danish Folklore in a European
Penpective. Helsinki: Academia Scientiarum Fennica, 1987‘
Holliw, Richard, and Blian SibIey. Walt Dis ‘5 “Snuw White and the Seven
Iggy]? and the Making of the Classic Film. ew York: Simon and Schuster,
Iohnsonf; Faye R., and CaroIe MI Carroll. ” Little Red Riding Hood’: Then and
Now. Studies in Popular Culture 14 (I992 : 71—84.
Jones Steven Swann. ‘On Anal zin§ Fai ales: ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ Revis-
ited.” Weslem Folklore 46 (19%;); 7—136,
. The New Com amtive ethod: Structural and Symbolic Analysis 0 the
Allamotifxoé‘flnaw hite”. Helsinki: Academia Scientiamm Fennica, I99 .
Kamcnctsky, hrista. The Brothers Grimm and Their Critics: Folktales and the Quest
fa! Meaning Athens: Ohio UP, 1992.
Kolbcnschla , Madonna. Kiss Slee in Beau Good : Breaking the Spell ofFem-
I’m‘ne M Es and Models, New or :Doub cday, 1 79.
Lamccia, ictor. “Little Red Ridin Hood’s Metacommentary: Paradoxical Injunc-
tion, Semiotics and Behaviort” adern Ldngugge Notes 90 1975): 517—34.
Lewis Phili . Seeing through the Mother Goose ales: Visual um; in the Writings
age errau t. Stanford: Stanford UP, 1996.
Lie rman, Marcia. “Some Day M Prince WilI Come: Female Accultumtion
thrmfih the Fairy Tale.” College ngh‘sh 34 (1972): 383—95.
Lurie, ison. Don! Tell the Crawn-ups: Subversive Chihhen’t Literatum. Boston:
Little, Brown, 1990‘
Liithi, Max. The European Falktale: Form and Nature. Trans, John D. Niles. Phil-
adelphia: Institute for the Study of Human Issues, 1982.
. The Fairy Tale as Art Form and Portrait ofMan. Trans. Ian Erickson. BIoom-
ington: Indiana UP, 1984,
FIQT’OM Upon a Time: On the Nature 0/ Fairy Telex. Bloomington: Indiana
Mallet, Carl—Hcinz. Fairy Tales and Children: The Psychology of Children Revealed
thron‘xigh Four of Gfimmx’ Fairy Tales. New York: Schocken Books, 1980‘
Maran 2, P., ed, Soviet Structural Folkloristics‘ The Ha e: Mouton, 1974.
Maggi, 50335 Food for Thought Trans. Metm Hjofl. Ba timote: The Iohns Hopkins
Magshgthcty, James, ed. The Brothers Grimm and Folktale, Urbana: U of Illinois P,

SELECTED BIBLlOGRAPHY 393
Mf%;§)”1 “1%“ “Bluebcard: A Tale of Matrimony.” A Room of One’s Own Z
Mieder, Wolfga . “Survival Forms of ‘Liktle Red Riding HoodY in Modern Society.”
International oIhore Review 2 (1982 : 23—41.
Managhan, David M. “The Lima? airy—Tale: A Study of Oscar Wilde’s ‘nm
??fgg4pd?§glgxgd The Siar~Ch11 .’ ” Canadian Review OICompamtive Literature
Panhaia, lisabflh. “Going Up in the World: Class in Cinderella.Y ” Western Fall-
1019 52 (1993?: 85—104.
Preston, Cath ynn. “ ‘Cinderclla’ as a Dirty Joke: Gender, Mulfivocality, and the
Polywemic ext” Western Falklnm 53 1994): 27—49.
‘I’nsz, Vladimir. Morfihology of the F01 ale. Trans. Laurence Scott. Auskin: U of
exas P, 1975.
-——. Theo and History of Folklore. Trans. Ariadna Y. Martin and Richard P.
Martin. . Anatoly Liberman. U of Minnesota P, 1984.
Quintus, John Allen. “The Moral Pram five in Oscar Wilde: A Look at the Fairy
Tales.” Vi inia Quarter! Review 53 977): 708—17.
Rooth, Anna ilgitta, The inderella C cle. Lund: C. W. K. Gleerup, 1951.
Ruse, Ellen Clonan. ‘Throxi‘gh die okins Class: When Women T511 Fai
Talesf’ In The Voya e In: tctians of Fema 2 Development. Ed. Elizabeth Abe ,
Malianne Hirsch, an Elizabeth Lan land. Hanover: UP of New En land, 1983.
-Rowe, Karen E. ‘To Spin 3 Yam: The éemale Voice in Folklore and airy T316.”
In Fairy Tale and Society: Illusion Allusion, and Paradigm. Ed. Ruth B. Bottig—
heimer. Philadelphia: U of Penn Ivania P, 1986.
. “Feminism and Fairy Tales,’ Women’s Studies: An Interdisciplinary IournnI
6 (1979): 237—57.
Sale, Roger. Fai Tales and After: From Snow While [70 E. B. White. Cambridge:
Harvard UP, 1 78.
Schech’nan, Jacqueline. “Hansel and Gretel.” In The Ste mother in Fairy Tales:
Bereavement and (he Feminine Shadow. Boston: 5150, 1 l.
Scherf, Waller. “Famil Conflicts and Emancipation in Fairy Tales.” Children’s
Literature, 3 (19742; 7—93.
Schickel, Richard. T Disney Version: The Li 2, Times, Art and Commerce afWalt
Disney. New York: Simon and Schuslcr, l .
Schwartz, Emanucl K. “A Ps hnanal 1c Study of the Fairy Tale.”American Iaumal
o Psycholhem 10 (1956 : 740—6 .
Se’ art, Lewis Car . Fax Tales, Sexuality. and Gender in France, 1690—1715: Nos-
Mdlgic Utopia. Ncw ork: Cambrid e UP, 1996.
Sen 1:, Maurice. “Hans Christian Anficncn.” In Caldecott and Ca: Notes on Books
?sgsl’icmm. New York: Farrar. Straus and Giroux, Michael di Capua Books,
-Shzvit, Zohar. “The Concepi of Childhood and Children’s Folktales: Test Case—
‘Liflle Rad Riding Hood.7 ” Iemsalem Studies in (wish Folklore 4 $1983): 93—124,
Sheets, Robin Ann. ‘Pamogm h , Fai Tales, an Feminism: Ange a Carter’s ‘The
Bloodéchambel.Y ” Journal 0 the istory of Sexualitf) 151991 : 57.
Snider, Iifion “Ems and logos in Some Fa. Tales y scar . e: A Jungian
Interpretation.” Victorian Newsletter 84 1993 : 1-8.
Sozigno, Marc. “Le petit chaperon rouge.” ouvelle Revue Frangaise 16 (1968): 429—
Stone, I(a F. “The Misuscs of Enchantment: Controversies on the Significance of
F2in ales.” In Women’s Fulklum Women’s Culture. Ed. Rosan A. Jordan and
Susan‘ . KaIcik. Philadelphia: U of Penns Ivania P, 1985.

197.5) 42mg wan Disney Never Told s.” Ioumal of American Folklore as
Suélliggg,‘1>6alul “Fairy Tale Elements in Jane Eyre,” Ioumal ofPopulaI Culture 12
Swahn, 15M”) ha. The Tale 0! Cupid and Psyche (Aame—Thompxon 425 and 428).
Lund, Swec1en: Gleerul’y, 19 5.
-TaI1a6§%\/Iaria. The Hard acts of the Grimms’ Fairy Tales. Princeton: Princeton UP,
. Ofl’with Their Head?! Fairy Tales and the Culture ofChildhood. Princeton:
Princeton UP, 1992,
Thompson, Stilh. The Fulklule. New ank: Holt, Rinehart and Winston 1946.
.Moti Index a FoIk-Litemture. 5 vols., rev. and enlarged ed. Broominglon:
Indiana U , 19557 8.

394 SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY
Tollléiéeg, I. R, R. “On Fairy-Slories.” In The Tolkien Reader. New York: Ballantine,
Travers, P. L. Abnut the Slee i Beau . London: Collins, 1977.
. “The Black Sheep.” n hat I e Bee Knows: Reflections on Myth. Symbol,
and Story‘ Wellin borough, Northamptonshire: A uanan, 1989
Vcrdier, Yvonne. “ rands-méres, si vous saviez, . . , e Pelit Cha ron Rnugc dans
la tradition orale.” Cahiers de Litte’mture Om]: 4 (1978): 17—5;c
Wielti-Wlagtgcirs, Jennifer. Fairy Tales and the Female Imagination. Montreal: Eden
[855, .
Willey, Arthur. “The Chinese Cinderella Sm .” Folklore 58 (1947): ZZfr38.
Walker, Mary. “Wilde’s Fairy Tales.” um: ngh’sh Studies: Iouma ofthe Depart-
ment 0 English ”(1976: 30—41‘
‘Wamer, arina. From the east to the Blonde: On Fairy Tales and Their Tellers,
New York: Fanar, Straus and Ciroux, 1994.
cher, Eu en. “Fairies and Hard Facts: The Reality of Folktales,” Immml of the
Histo 0 Ideas 42 (1981):93—11;.
Weigle, 3113. S idem and Spinsters. Albuquerque: U of New Mexico P, 1932.
Wilson Sharon . “Bluebeard’s Forbidden Ream: Gender Images in Mmgmel At-
;vggdés7visual and Literary Art.” American Review of Canadian Studies 1 (1986):
W; Margaret Atwood’s Fairy-Tale Sexual Politics. Jackson: UP of Mississippi,
YoéelnY2 anc. “America’s Cinderella” Children’s Literature in Education 8 (1977}:
. Touch Magic: Fantasy, Fueriz and Folklore in the Litzmlure of Childhood.
New Yolk: Philome], I981.
Zipes, jack Breaking the Magic Spell: Radical Theories of Folk and Fairy Tales.
Austin: U of Texas P, 1979.
. The Brothers Grimm: From Enchanted Forests to the Madem World. New
York: Roufledge, Chapman and Hall, 1988.
. Fairy Ta es and the Art of Subversion: The Classical Genre for Children and
the Process of Civil’ afion. New York: Wildman, 1983.
. Happily Ever er: Fairy Tales, Children, and the Culture Industry. New
York: Routled e, 199 .
, Ed, The rials and Tn’bulalions ofLittIe Red Riding Hood. Zd ed. New York:
Routledge, 1993.

Norton Critical Editions

ANDERSON Winesbuvg, Ohio edited by Charles E. Modlin and Ray Lewis
While
AQUINAS St. Thomas Aquinas on Politics and Ethics translated and edited by
Paul E. Sigmund
AUSrEN Emma edited by Stephen M. Parrish Second Edition
AUSTEN Mansfield Park edited by Claudia L Johnson
AUSrEN Persuasion edited by Patricia Meyer Specks
AUSrEN Pride and Prefudice edited by Donald Cray Second Edition
BALZAC Pére Coriot translated by Burton Rafiel, edited by Peter Brooks
EEHN Oroonoka edited by Ioanna Lipking
Beowulf (the Donaldson translation) edited by loseph F, Tuso
BLAKE Blake’s Poehy and Designs selected and edited by Mary Lynn
Johnson and John E. Crank
BOCCACCIO The Decamemn selected, translated, and edited by Mark Musa
and Peter E. Bondanella
Bkomii, CHARLOTTE lane Eyre edited by Richard I. Dunn Second Edition
nkom’ii, EMlkY Wuthering Heights edited by William M. Sale, In, and
Richard Dunn Third Edition
BROWNING, ELIZABETH nmnm‘r Aurora Leigh edited by Margaret Reynolds
BROWNING, ROBERT Browning’s Poeby selected and edited by James F.
Loucks
BURNEY Evelina edited by Stewart I. Cooke
BYRON Byron’s Poetry selected and edited by Frank D. McConnell
CARROLL Alice in Wonderland edited by Donald lb Cray Second Edition
CERVANTES Don Quifote translated by Burton Raffel, edited by Diana de
Armas Wilson
CHAUCER The Canterbury Tales: Nine Tales and the General Prologue edited
by V. A. Kolve and Glending Olson
CHEKHOV Anton Chekhov’s Plays hanslaked and edikcd by Eugene K. Brislow
CHEKHOV Anton Chekhov’s Short Stories selected and edited by Ralph E‘
Matlzw
CHOFIN The Awakening edited by Margo Culley Second Edition
The Classic Fairy Tales ediked by Malia Tatar
CONRAD Heart of Darkness edited by Robert Kimbrough Third Edition
CONRAD Lord Jim edited by Thomas C. Moser Second Edition
CONRAD The Nigger of the “Narcissus” edited by Ruben Kimbrough
CRANE Maggie: A Girl of the Sheets edited by Thomas A, Gullason
CRANE The Red Badge of Courage edited by Donald Pizer Third Edition
DARWIN Darwin selected and edited by Philip Appleman Second Edition
DEFOE A Ioumal of the Plague Year edited by Paula R. Bachcheider
DEFOE Mall Flanders edited by Edward Kelly
395

DEFOE Robinson Crusoe edited by Michael Shinagel Second Edition
DE PIZAN The Selected Writings of Christine de Pizrm translated by Renate
Blumenfeld-Kosinski and Kevin Brownlee, edited by Renate Blumenfeld-
Kosinski
DICKENS Bleak House edited by Ceoxge Ford and Sylveie Monod
DICKENS David Copperfield edited by Jerome H. Buckley
DICKENS Great Expectations edited by Edgar Rosenberg
DICKENS Hard Times edited by George Ford and Sylveie Monod Second
Edition
DICKENS Oliver Twist edited by erd Kaplan
DONNE [aim Donne’s Poetry selected and ediled by Arthur L.
Clemems Second Edition
DOSTOEVSKY The Brothers Kammazav (the Garnet! translation) edited by
Ralph E Matlaw
DOSTOEVSKY Crime and Punishment (the Coulson translation) edited by
George Gibian Third Edition
DOSTOEVSKY Notes from Underground translated and edited by Michael R.
Kat:
DOUGLASS Narrative of the Life 0/ Frederick Douglass, an American Slave,
Written by Himself edited by William L. Andrews and William S. McFeely
DREISER Sister Carrie edited by Donald Pizer Second Edition
Eight Modem Plays edited by Anthony Caputi
DU 8015 The Souls or’Blaclz Folk edited by Hemy Louis Gates, )L, and Terri
Hume Oliver
ELIOT Middlemarch edited by Bert G. Hornback
ELIOT The Mill on the Floss edited by Carol T, Chnst
ERASMUS The Praise of Folly and Other Writings translated and edited by
Robert M. Adams
FAULKNER The Sound and the Fury edited by David Mintex Second Edition
FIELDING loseph Andrews with Shamelu and Related Writings edited by
Homer Goldberg
FIELDING Tom lone: edited by Shelidan Bake! Second Edition
FLAUEERT Madame Eavary edited with a substantially new translation by
Paul de Man
FORD The Good Soldier edited by Martin Stannard
FORSTER Howards End edited by Paul Be Armstrong
FRANKLIN Benjamin Franklin’s Autobiography edited by ). A. Leo Lemay and
P. M. 221]
FULLER Woman in the Nineteenth Century edited by Larry J. Reynolds
GOETHE Faust translated by Wake! Arndt, edited by Cyrus Hamlin
6080!. Dead Souls (the Rezvey translation) edited by George Cibian
HARDY Far from the Madding Crowd edited by Robert C, Schweik
HARDY Iude the Obscure edited by Norman Page Second Edition
HARDY The Mayor of Casterbridge edited by James K. Robinson
HARDY The Return of the Native edited by Izmes Gindin
HARDY Tess of the d’Urbem’lles edited by Scott Elledge Third Edition
HAWTHORNE The Bh‘thedale Rumance edited by Seymour Gross and Rosalie
Murphy
HAWTHORNE The House of the Seven Cables edited by Seymour Cross
HAWTHORNE Nathaniel Huwthome’s Tales edited by James McIntosh
HAWTHORNE The Scarlet Letter edited by Seymour Cross, Sculley Bradley,
Richmond Croom Bcatty, and E. Hudson Long Third Edition

HERBERT George Herbert and the SeventeenthrCentury Religious
Poets selected and edited by Mario A. DiCesare
HERODOTUS The Histories translated and selected by Walter E, Blanca,
edited by Walter E. Blanca and Jennifer Robem
HOBBIES Leviathan edited by Richard E. Flathman and David Johnston
HOMER The Odyssey translated and edited by Albert Cook Second Edition
HOWELLS The Rise of Silax Lapham edited by Don L. Cook
InsEN The Wild Duck translated and edited by Dounia BA Christiani
IAMES The Ambassadors edited by S. F. Rosenbaum Second Edition
IAMES The American edited by James W. Tunleton
IAMES The Portrait ufa Lady edited by Robert De Bamberg Second Edition
JAMES Tales ofHenry lames edited by Chrislof Wegelin
IAMES The Turn of the Screw edited by Deborah Esch 3nd Jonakhan
Warren Second Edition
JAMES The Wings of the Dove ediked by J. Donald Crowley and Richard A.
Hacks
JDNSON Ben Ionsan and the Cavalier Poets selected and edited by Hugh
Maclean
[ONSON Ben hmsmu’s Plays and Masques selected and edited by Robert M.
Adams
KAFKA The Metamorphosis translated and edited by Stanley Comgold
LAFAYE’ITE The Princess of CIeVes edited and wikh a revised translation by
John D. Lyons
MACHMVELLI The Prince translated and edited by Robert M. Adams Second
Edition
MALTHUS An Essay on the Principle of Population edited by Philip Appleman
MANN Death in Venice translated and edited by Clayton Koelb
MARX The Communist Manifesto edited by Frederic L. Bender
MELVILLE The ConfidenceMan edited by Hexshel Parker
MELVILLE Moby-Diclz edited by Harrison Hayford and Hersbel Parker
MEREDITH The Egan’s: edited by Robert M. Adams
Middle English Lyrics selected and edited by Maxwell S. Luria and Richard
L. Hoffman
Middle English Romances selected and edited by Stephen H. A. Shepherd
MILL Mill: The Spirit ofthe Age, On Liberty, The Subjection of
Women selected and edited by Alan Ryan
MILTON Paradise Lost cdilcd by Scott Elledge Second Editinn
Modem Irish Drama edited by John P. Harrington
MORE Utopia translated and edited by Robert M. Adams Secnnd Edition
NEWMAN Apologia Pro Vita Sua edited by David J. DeLaum
NEW’mN Newton edited by 1. Bernard Cohen and Richard S, Wes‘fall
Noms McTeague edited by Donald Pizer Second Edition
Restoration and EighteenthCentury Comedy edited by Scott McMillin
Second Edition
RHYS Wide Sargasso Sea edited by Judith L. Raiskin
11ch Adrienne Rich’s Poetry and Prose edited by Baxbara Charlesworth Gelpi
and Alben Celpi
xoussmu Rousseau’s Political Writings edited by Alan Rifle! and translated
by Julia Conaway Bondanella
ST. PAUL The Writings of St. Paul edited by Wayne A. Meeks
SHAKESPEARE Hamlet edited by Cyrus Hoy Second Edition
SHAKESPEARE Henry IV, Part! edited by James L. Sanderson Second Edition

SHAW Bemard Shaw’s Plays edited by Warren Sylvester Smith
SHELLEY, MARY Frankenstein edited by L Paul Hunter
SHELLEY, PERCY BYSSHE Shelley’s Poetry and Prose selected and edited by
Donald H. Reiman and Sharon B. Powers
SMOLLE’IT Humphry clinker edited by James L. Thorson
SOPHOCLES Oedipus Tyrannus translated and edited by Luci Berkowitz and
Theodore F. anner
SPENSER Edmund Spenser’s Poetry selected and edited by Hugh Maclean
and Anne Lake Prescott Third Edition
STENDHAL Red and Black translated and edited by Ruben M. Adams
STERNE Tristmm Shandy edited by Howard Anderson
STOKER Dracula edited by Nina Auerbach and David ]‘ Ska]
HOWE Uncle Tom’s Cabin edited by Elizabeth Amman:
swxrr Gulliver’s Travels edited by Robefl A. Greenberg Second Edition
swm” The Writings of Immthan Swift edited by Robert A. Clecnbcrg and
William B. Piper
TENNYSON In Memoriam edited by Robert H. Ross
TENNYSON Tmnyson’s Poetry selected and edited by Robert W. Hill,
It. Second Edition
THACKERAY Vanity Fair edited by Peter Shillingsburg
THOREAU Walden and Resistance to Civil Government edited by William
Rossi Second Edition
THUCYDIDES The Peloponnesian War translated by Walter Blanca, edited by
Walter Blanca and Jennifer Talbert Roberts
TOLSTOY Anna Karenina edited and with a revised hanslafion by George
Gibian Second Edition
ToLsroY Tolstoy’s Short Fidion edited and with revised translations by
Michael K Katz
ToLs’roY War and Peace (the Maude translation) edited by George
Cibian Second Edition
TOOMER Cane edited by Darwin T. Turner
TURGENEV Fathers and Sons translated and edited by Michael R. Kalz
TWAIN Adventures of Huckleben’y Finn edited by Thomas Cooley Third
Edition
’IWAIN A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court edited by Allison R.
Ensor
TWAIN Pudd’nhead Wilson and Those Extmmdinary Twins edited by Sidney
E. Berger
VOLTAIRE Candide translated and edited by Robert M. Adams Second
Editian
WASHINGTON Up From Slavery edited by William L. Andrews
WATSON The Double Helix: A Personal Account of the Discovery of the
Structure of DNA edited by Gunther 5. Stem
WHARTON Ethan Frome edited by Kristin O. Lauer and Cynthia Griffin
Wolff
WHARTON The House of Mirth edited by Elizabeth Ammons
WHITMAN Leaves of Grass edited by Sculley Bradley and Harold W. Blodgefl
WILDE The Picture of Dorian Gray edited by Donald L. Lawler
WOLLSI‘ONECRAFT A Vindication of the Rights of Woman edited by Carol H.
Poslon Second Edition
WORDSWORTH The Prelude: 1799, 1805, 1850 edited by Jonathan
Wordsworth, M. H. Abrams, and Stephen Gill