Fairy Tales

One thing we take for granted as a staple of our culture is the development and maintenance of fairy tales. They were often originally written or told so long ago that we can't remember their origins. They're also retold often enough that rarely do we recall the originals in their purest form.

I want to talk about that: adaptation. I've gotten into quite a few arguments over whether the plot of a fairy tale should be changed or not. All of us know that there are a good share of both terrible and excellent alterations to what we believe to be original fairy tales. This has led to some interesting debates about the purpose and worth of these alterations.

This is a great time to start thinking about these sorts of debates for two reasons:
1. I just finished an anthology called Snow White, Blood Red
2. Snow White and the Huntsman 


Snow White, Blood Red is a collection of short stories and poems that are adaptations of classic fairy tales. Some of them are reset in modern times, and others are simply retellings with new wording and fresh style. The two editors, Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling, each wrote essays at the beginning of the anthology, discussing two important aspects of the best fairy tales of all time: the ability to use elements of truth, of satire, and real problems in a fantasy setting, and the ability to use violence in order to make them more vivid.

Now, I'm sure there are better ways to phrase that, but hear me out. Let's talk about the first aspect first, then we'll get into all the gory details.

Terri Windling wrote the essay called "White as Snow: Fairy Tales and Fantasy," and started it off with a group of comparisons between original fairy tales and the way we know them to be now-- often Disney remakes. She points out extremely mature themes in some of our favorites, Red Riding Hood being blatantly sexual, Sleeping Beauty giving birth during her sleep, and other disturbing notions. Windling argues that fairy tales are not-- or were not-- stories for children, but stories for adults, relaying mature themes and warning against the sorts of things that haunt people throughout their adult lives. Since then, they've been stripped of their intensity, dressed up in capes and given handsome heroes to solve the problems, instead of creating them (how do you think Sleeping Beauty got pregnant?).

Windling says, "A proper fairy tale is anything but an untruth; it goes to the very heart of truth. It goes to the very hearts of men and women and speaks of things it finds there: fear, courage, greed, compassion, loyalty, betrayal, despair and wonder. It speaks of these things in a symbolic language that slips into our dreams, our unconscious, steeped in rich archetypal images." Archetype-- a word that  sends shivers and unpleasant memories of high school down our spines-. (As a reminder, an archetype is a prototype or original concept that works as a foundation for almost all other concepts related to it.) And yet, it's so very poignant here. Carl Jung argued that such concepts existed in all individual minds, even if they were not taught to each other, connecting humanity unconsciously through essential, important themes. They work in fairy tales the exact same way.

The remakes of fairy tales that we've experienced over the past few centuries not only make commentary about the styles and notions of an age (consider the outfits and the personalities of our princes in movies and books these days as compared to the old ones), but also show a connection to the sorts of issues that all cultures deal with. We can say this of mythology as well. There always seem to be elemental gods or champions who save their people, and pure, idyllic princesses that are beacons of hope. The list could go on forever. It means that there are people and ideas that almost all cultures believe in, despite changes in history, despite differences in culture. In other words, adaptations of fairy tales put an often refreshing, sometimes infuriating spin on traditions that we've maintained for much of human history; these spins are changes in perspective, like remembering a traumatic event in different ways.

Note, though, a pattern in mythology throughout history. Not only do we find champions and heroes, but there are always villains, always battle, always violence. Violence, like hope, affects the psyche in bafflingly deep ways. It affects every individual, reacquaints us with our sense of mortality, and with our passions. Like hope, it moves us, fueled by fear and passion alike.

Such power lies within fairy tales for a reason.

One thing that I must admit: fairy tales are different from mythology, and the violence works differently within them. In "Red as Blood: Fairy Tales and Horror," Ellen Datlow argues that fairy tales are "about ordinary men and women in extraordinary circumstances." Myths have actual heroes, people with powers. Fairy tales thrust flawed human beings into horrific and enchanting environments. Naturally, there is no clear line as to what makes a fairy tale, but we know certainly that they involve ordinary people, they are set in fantastic worlds, there is magic, and there are rules, and they have archetypes that strike us deeply. "The ones that touch us most deeply are often blunt about the darker side of human nature, filled with violence and atrocities." It makes you wonder: is the fairy tale about the princess, or the evil witch? Which person do we relate to? Who do we aspire to be? Where do our desires lead-- salvation or ruin?

Happily enough, Snow White and the Huntsman is an excellent medium for discussing all of this stuff. Before anyone asks, I do recommend the movie. It's one of the more refreshing and curious remakes of an old fairy tale. The Snow White I grew up with in Disney's movie is slightly more terrifying and revolting for all the wrong reasons. This one is much truer to the way a fairy tale should feel: gripping, fear-inducing, relatable, and repulsive in exactly the right ways.

I do want to comment on some of the elements of the movie that fit well into the fairy tale style.
1. It focuses quite a bit on the Queen. We rarely get to appreciate the perspective of the bad guy. This, I think, stems from a tendency to try to avoid the dark parts of our hearts, but the movie forces its audience to admit: she's really cool. She's got reasons for what she does. She's powerful and interesting. The darkness is acknowledged and given a form that is both fearsome and beautiful, the way power and violence appear to us in other circumstances.
2. The heroes are relatively ordinary.  The princess and the huntsmen have no powers. Well, not significant ones. The princess can apparently talk to deer-- a deer that has been heavily influenced by Princess Mononoke-- but that doesn't do much. But focus on the huntsman! He's not magical. He's a drunkard, and something of a loser, actually, but his own strength of character, body, and mind get him through things.
3. It is set in a fantastic world. Anyone can see from the trailers that there is a crazy Black forest, and a fairy wonderland in this movie. Interestingly enough, most of it is somewhat believable. Historical influences touch the setting and the story-- the Lord's Prayer being spoken, the medieval castle, the references to Elizabeth Bathory... That's natural in a fairy tale: again, the presence of historical themes speaks for influences of the present day. I wonder what those influences say about us?
4. Magic. The queen's magical. We all know that. It's amazing magic, though. The Disney version has the queen turn into an old hag and travel miles to find Snow White. This queen can transform into a number of things, travel by a number of fascinating and intricate means, and her magic follows a set of rules.
5. Rules. Fantastic settings don't make any sense unless there's a system that normal people can understand. This ties into the archetype notion: in the midst of chaos, people love to-- need to-- find a system. Snow White is fairer than the Queen, the Queen feels threatened and reciprocates, the princess runs away, but the princess can defeat the Queen because she is fair. Also, true love overcomes death. This is a whole new motif that we can trace through a lot of cultural stories, but I won't take the time now. If we accept those conditions, then everything makes sense, and it's still the same fairy tale. That and the apple, which in itself is a symbol of a lot of other things...
6. Violence. We all know that this is a hook for crowds. It's exciting. Warfare is exciting. That, and stabbing is certainly impactive (insert drum and snare here). The fear that our heroes could fail-- that Snow White could die-- is what keeps us hooked. How can a mortal defeat death? How can good prevail? Not to mention, some death scenes were certainly directed with the intention of stunning and shocking. Violence puts one on an emotional roller coaster, moving from sadness to rage and all of those messy emotions in between. It also causes us to question: if the Queen uses violence, then why must Snow White, also?

So, just think about it. The next time you hear of a fairy tale, consider that its history is much richer and more worth-while than one would initially assume. Be wary; look out for the shallow reminders of society's current obsessions, but believe when good writers attempt to rewrite an old classic. It's certainly okay, certainly allowed, and still just as valid and truthful as the almost-forgotten originals.

PS: Neil Gaiman wrote a story for Snow White, Blood Red. It's an excellent collection of works. Please give it a look.