Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Siren
Nightwish-"The Siren" from their album Once
A lady with a violin playing to the seals
Hearken to the sound of calling
Who tied my hands to the wheel?
The zodiac turns over me
(Come to me)
Somewhere there my fate revealed
I hear but how will I see
I tied myself to the wheel
The winds talk to my sails, not me
(Come to me)
Somewhere there my fate revealed
I hear but how will I see
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Literary Animal Bridegroom Tales
The text below, from answers.com, includes some very interesting information not included in most histories of Beauty and the Beast. Straparola, Basile, and Perrault are known for having versions of other tales, but are rarely credited for being part of the Beauty and the Beast/Animal Bridegroom cycle."Numerous versions of ‘Beauty and the Beast’ predated Mme Leprince de Beaumont's tale. Straparola's mid‐16th‐century ‘Re Porco’ (‘King Pig’) exhibits a swinish husband who delights in rooting in rotting filth and rolling in mud before climbing into bed with each of three successive wives. He murders the first two when they express their revulsion at his stinking habits, but makes the third his queen when she smilingly acquiesces in his muck.
Basile's Pentamerone (1634–6) included four ‘Beauty and the Beast’ tale types. The first three—‘The Serpent’ (Day 2, Tale 5), ‘The Padlock’ (Day 2, Tale 9), and ‘Pinto Smalto’ (Day 5, Tale 3) resemble Apuleius' tale in that the husbands in each story are reputed, but not actual, monsters. However, in the fourth story, ‘The Golden Root’ (Day 5, Tale 4), the handsome husband simply trades his black skin for white at night.
Charles Perrault includes a highly ethicized conclusion in his ‘Beauty and the Beast’ tale, ‘Riquet à la Houppe’ (1697), but leaves readers in doubt about whether the monstrously ugly hero Riquet actually becomes handsome, or whether he only appears so in the eyes of his besotted beloved.
In 1697 Mme d'Aulnoy also published ‘Le Mouton’ (‘The Ram’), but with a tragic ending: her heroine's dear Ram dies in her absence. Other ‘Beauty and the Beast’ tale types in Mme d'Aulnoy's œuvre include ‘La Grenouille bienfaisante’ (‘The Beneficent Frog’), ‘Serpentin vert’ (‘The Green Serpent’), and ‘Le Prince Marcassin’."
And on the absence of female beasts (from the same source): "Beauty and the Beast’ tales, which all require a woman's patient tolerance of an ugly mate, have no companion tales in the modern period in which the obverse obtains, that is, a man who must love an ugly wife. In the medieval period, however, numerous companion stories circulated, the most famous of which is the Wife of Bath's story in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. Another of the many now‐forgotten and similar medieval tales, Le Bel inconnu, tells of a handsome knight who kisses a lady who has been turned into a serpent. Such stories survived into Basile's 17th‐century collection, but between 1634 and the emergence of French fairy tales in print form in the 1690s, this trope largely disappeared from European storytelling."
Image by Arthur Rackham
*I have a summary of "The Ram" here. I will do a post on Green Serpent in the future, as it is a fascinating tale where both the male and female have beastly characteristics at some point.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Rapunzel through two different lenses

Monday, August 23, 2010
Fairy Queen and Faerie Queene
From 1692, Henry Purcell's music to "The Fairy Queen" is the oldest music I've featured on the blog so far. When I heard the music and the title, I assumed it would be for Spenser's book "The Faerie Queene," from the 1590s. I'll admit: I got the book only because Beauty loves it in Robin McKinley's Beauty (my favorite novel version of Beauty and the Beast. Isn't it weird how books can influence you in so many ways, like what other books you choose to read?) And it hurts my pride to admit it was hard for me to just get through the first Book of the epic poem, although you adjust to the writing as you read more (like Shakespeare is to the modern reader, Spenser is to Shakespeare-at least to me). Spenser definitely enforces typical stereotypes such as the beautiful, dutiful, modest female and the strong, courageous male warrior. From Book I, Canto I:
"A lovely Ladie rode him faire beside,
Upon a lowly Asse more white then snow,
Yet she much whiter; but the same did hide
Under a vele, that wimpled was full low;
And over all a blacke stole shee did throw
As one that inly mournd, so was she sad,
And heavie sate upon her palfrey slow;
Seemed in heart some hidden care she had,
And by her, in a line, a milkewhite lambe she lad."
After reading it, I realized Robin McKinley meant it as a joke/commentary on the differences of culture. In Beauty, Beauty reads and rereads Faerie Queene and just loves it, but can't for the life of her understand modern writing, which is much more comprehensible to us. Which is an interesting twist on the modern person griping about having to read Shakespeare because it makes no sense-though our language has been simplified over the years, it certainly has its own uniqueness and our phrases and idioms would probably make Shakespeare himself scratch his head, if it makes you feel any better about suffering through (or enjoying, as I hope the case may be) him in high school literature.
But the music mentioned above is not about Spenser's epic poem, but about the slightly more comprehensible, much shorter, and certainly more well known Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. And though midsummer's eve was technically back in June, we are definitely now more in the middle of the summer, weather-wise.
Early Baroque music is, much like Shakespeare and Spenser, often more inaccessible to the modern person, but at least these clips are short. So enjoy this fairy tale and summer inspired music and, if it's not really your thing, at least you've been cultured a little.
Kristin's Guide to Disneyland in the Summer







Thursday, August 19, 2010
True Fairy Tales

Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Star Wars, Fairy Tales, and Whether or Not Endings Should be Happy

Chinese Cinderella
Sunday, August 15, 2010
The Soldier of the 12 Dancing Princesses
Errol Le CainLit.Scribbles has a very interesting post called The Twelve Dancing Princesses and the Politics of Taking Pictures. Follow the link to see what taking pictures has to do with the fairy tale; but the author expresses her distaste for the Soldier/hero of the tale because he is rewarded for doing nothing; the old woman tells him what to do, and all he does is creepily stalk the Princesses for three nights in a row.
The above post brings out some very good points which I hadn't considered before. But I thought about why I had never thought of the Soldier in that light, and I came up with a few reasons:
1. I think most people sort of assume that the Soldier in question is already a Good Man and that that's why the old woman chooses him, out of all the other men eager to take the King's offer. You COULD go so far as to say that, since he was not one of the first men to go and try his luck, he is perhaps showing wisdom in waiting to learn more. But I admit that's kind of a stretch.
2. The Soldier doesn't really do nothing: he follows the old woman's instructions. And following instructions is pretty hard for fairy tale characters. In fact, his main virtue is obedience. Ah, that word that gets modern females all worked up when applied to females, but here is an example of a male getting rewarded for obedience, typically thought to be the main virtue looked for in a woman. So, that's actually pretty awesome.
Now, as for the creepiness, most versions try to hint that the Soldier is feigning sleep while the Princesses change and only watches them once they have checked on him to make sure he's sleeping. I think most readers/hearers of the tale just get excited at the sneaking around invisibly, and at the mystery he's solving, and don't really think of it as stalking 12 women. Although the history of fairy tales certainly does involve a lot more sexual innuendo than in the versions we're most familiar with today, so I guess each reader can infer what they want to.
But I do agree that I don't see why the secret kingdom is so evil. The reason the tale is so popular is because every girl (and possibly boy) wishes she had a secret door in her room that led to a magical kingdom, whether or not dancing all night would be their dream scenario. The most negative consequence is the worn out shoes, but the Princesses don't seem to be tired. (Did the King ever try just...not replacing their shoes? That would have solved his money problem at least.) Other versions will try to describe an evil spell to make the destroying of the Kingdom more satisfying. But I think the reason hearers aren't too disappointed when the Kingdom is exposed and destroyed is that for us, the hearers, we know the Kingdom will always be there, our own secret and our own discovery at the same time, every time we revisit the tale.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
The Moon-Maiden
Once there lived a bamboo cutter and his wife who longed for children. One night the woman asked the great Mountain Fujiyama to send a little child to comfort her. And from the top of the mountain, there was a gleam of light. The woman called her husband, who went to the top of the mountain and found a "tiny moon-child, fragile, dainty, radiant, clad in flimsy, filmy moonshine, more beautiful than anything he had ever seen before." The child told the bamboo cutter than she was Princess Moonbeam, daughter of the Moon Lady, sent to Earth to comfort the couple. The man took her home and the Moon-child gave them comfort and joy for many years.
Warwick Goble
Matt BenDaniel
Note: this summary and quotations were taken from "My Bookhouse Through Fairy Halls", first published in 1920. The details of the story vary from other versions, like this online version.
Fun fact (from wikipedia): In The Neverending Story by Michael Ende, "Moonchild" is the new name that Bastian gives to the Childlike Empress, thus saving the world of Fantastica. It drove me crazy that you could never understand what he says at the end!






