Those of us who read literature, including myth and folktale, have been irritated with Disney for changing the stories, draining out some of the meaning. Though Disney has kept in some of the frightening and uncomfortable portions, there are other places they just won't go. While we all understand this, it does prompt the question "Well then why do it at all?" I have made my peace with much of this over the years. Folktales changed slightly in every generation - likely with every retelling - and would even be different from valley to valley. There is no real version, and Disney gets to be one more story teller.
The more frequent objection is that it sends the wrong message to the Modern Girl, that she should be waiting for some man to come and rescue her and make her life complete. My objection has been something of the reverse of that, that the main thing taught to the Modern Girl is that she should be a spunky gal, as if that one virtue outweighed the others. It is unfair of me. Other virtues are taught, and I am not the target audience anyway. I will note that those who observe actual girls playing at being princess will see that the primary attraction to the role is not that she get some boyfriend (booooring), but that she gets to tell everyone else what to do.
A word on the folktale in general, not so much the Disney versions. The movies are about the pricesses more than the suitors. In many cultures of the world, the stories are told only about the young men. In Europe the female characters get some ink as well. In the story about the unlikely young man having to prove himself to the king in order to win the princess and get half the kingdom, there is some important information overlooked. He doesn't win the most beautiful woman in the kingdom. He doesn't get given a pile of money. The ending is not the mere handing out of prizes to clever youngsters. That the woman is a princess matters. We no longer live in ages where powerless people worried greatly about wars of succession, and the quality of those that ruled them. Americans are such individualists - we think the whole story is about identifying with individuals. Not so.
When the princess weds the hero who has not merely fallen into this role but has earned it (often by being kind to peasants and unlikely people), this means there will be an heir - or at least they might now hope. Half of this faraway kingdom will now be ruled by someone who has at least some excellent qualities, under the tutelage of another king. That would be a deeply satisfying end to the story which we no longer think about, being Americans.
It often pays to ask what does not happen in the story.
3 comments:
...but that she gets to tell everyone else what to do.
Many years ago my son and I were at a Scottish Highland Games, and I encountered him during a break in our different activities. 'What are you up to?' I asked.
'[Girl's name] and I are playing knight and princess,' he said.
'That sounds nice,' I replied.
Just then, the girl in question showed up and barked, 'Hey you! Princess game, now!'
"the main thing taught to the Modern Girl is that she should be a spunky gal, as if that one virtue outweighed the others." Verizon recently had a social media ad praising 'strong women'. But from a business standpoint...which is the only standpoint VZ has any possible credibility opining about'...a company needs people who are reliable, who are focused, who are hardworking, who are cooperative, who are independent, who are trustworthy, who are creative. Hiring a pack of employees who are obsessed with being 'strong', but lack those other virtues, seems like a pretty guaranteed recipe for failure. And the same is true at the level of an entire society.
The "happily ever after" part often involves landing someplace cushy, by marriage or adoption, even for the penniless but virtuous everyman hero. But the interesting part of the traditional story is the quest. A hero may do some slaying or rescuing: lots of active danger and suspense. A heroine generally bears up more passively under a prolonged mistreatment, often winning allies by her sweet nature, and never despairing. She may win by cleverly unraveling a puzzle, rarely by wielding a weapon or taking charge of a group.
I remember Princess Leia being one of the earliest genre-busters in this department: our hero goes to rescue the pretty girl, and she shocks us by assuming that she outranks everyone present even before the rescue is complete. Han Solo is sexually irresistible, but no one's rushing to put him in charge of Parliament. He doesn't have the Big Picture.
It was more fun back then. All the playfulness went out of genre-busting when it became a competitive orthodoxy.
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