Final Post: The Importance of "tales of true love and high adventure"

While some of the more famous fairy tales aim, as we have seen, to instill some sense of morality into the readers, most of whom are in their youth, I feel as though I benefited greatly from the literature in other ways. Sure, these stories aim to teach and guide morality for the children, hence their use by parents; what, then, can adults glean from fairy tales? More than anything, I found myself filled with fascination. These fairy tales, both classic and modern, do not solely instill a rule by which children can be measured, but also remind the parental participants of the childlike wonder that filled their youth. I'm not sure this makes a whole lot of sense, but, as I read some of these tales, in their uncorrupted, pre-Disney editions, and in their more modern, mature iterations (I'm looking at you Angela Carter and Neil Gaiman), I find myself being filled with awe and respect as, I can only imagine, Fred Savage's character in The Princess Bride does when his grandfather reads him a tale of "true love and high adventure, pirates, princesses, giants, miracles, fencing, and a frightening assortment of wild beasts." 

Foil as Antagonist: The Need for Opposing Characters in Snow White and Little Red Riding Hood

When approaching the realm of Fairy Tales, one name always comes to mind: Disney. The imaginative prowess and influence of Walt Disney Studios, arguably, allowed for a resurgence of Fairy Tale knowledge with the release of their 1934 Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. This company has done much to create and alter classic fairy tales in a way that children, along with their families, can enjoy. These stories, although generally simplistic in nature, especially compared to their complex source material, do thoroughly highlight, as Kay Stone notes, who the protagonists and antagonists are through their “cloyingly pretty and passive heroines contrast[ed] with old and ugly female schemers” (Bottigheimer, 3). Although exaggerated, Disney does, with excellence, articulate the obvious struggle present in classic fairy tales. While these power struggles are, generally, easily noticed and deciphered, one cannot help but notice the complex relationships that the antagonists and protagonists share. When analyzing Aarne-Thompson type 709 (“Snow-White”) and 333 (“Little Red Riding Hood”) fairy tales, one cannot help but notice the dual identity of the antagonist. Both the Wolf and the Wicked Step-Mother/Witch serve as both antagonist and foil to the tales’ protagonists. By evaluating and analyzing several versions and reiterations for both of the aforementioned Aarne-Thompson types, the reader notes the necessary and immovable role that these antagonists play, both as evil opponents within the overarching power struggle present in the narrative and as opposition allowing for the protagonist’s characteristics to be highlighted and celebrated.

            The “Snow-White” type holds what is perhaps the most well-known example of antagonist as foil in fairy tale and modern literature. Through the analysis of several iterations of this story type, the dual nature of the Wicked Step-Mother/Witch becomes increasingly apparent. Giambattista Basile’s “The Young Slave,” the Brothers Grimm “Snow White,” and Neil Gaiman’s “Snow, Glass, Apples” all present differing examples of the “Snow-White” type wherein the antagonist, or in Gaiman’s work, protagonist, also hold the role as Snow White’s foil. This relationship between a wicked family member and Snow White serves as the central basis of conflict for the story type and requires, so it seems, a foil relationship between the two.

            In Giambattista Basile’s “The Young Slave,” Basile, with what is one of the earliest editions, presents “Snow-White” as an orphan named Lisa. She is the byproduct of a plant’s divine insemination who is at conflict with an aunt that is “suspicious, and impelled by jealousy and consumed by curiosity” (Basile, 92). This curiosity causes the jealous aunt to rebel against her husband and sentence her niece to hard labor until she is eventually rediscovered and ascend back to a place of honor at the expense of her aunt. This formula, although much tamer in Basile than in other iterations, is wholly consistent amongst the several “Snow-White” types. Just as in other versions, Basile establishes that Lisa and her aunt are both nemeses and foils of one another. Consider the language used for describing the aunt when Basile notes that she “was as bitter as a slave, as angry as a bitch with a litter of pups, and as venomous as a snake” (93). This description is wholly juxtaposed with Lisa who is “as beautiful as a goddess” (95). In the short span of “The Young Slave,” Basile effectively creates a palpable opposition between the characters of the aunt and her niece Lisa.

Suzanne Maganini, in her article “Foils and Fakes: The Hydra in Giambattista Basile's Dragon-Slayer Tale, ‘Lo mercante,’” analyzes the diminishing role of foil that Basile establishes between Cienzo and his foe, the Hydra. Maginini asserts that although “the monster appeared to Basile’s twentieth-century English and Italian translators to be simply a foil to the hero, undeserving of any explication … the representation of this beast suggest that it plays a much more complex role in this tale” (171-172). Maganini acknowledges the complex nature present behind Cienzo and the Hydra’s foil relationship; because the Hydra, being much weaker than Hercules’, is so simple to kill, it serves as a foil representing the unimpressive nature of Cienzo as hero. In the same way, while the aunt serves as a foil and antagonist to Lisa, Basile’s “The Young Slave” lacks the extreme nature of antagonistic and foil relationship found in other editions of the “Snow-White” type. The most obvious and noticeable example of this tame and safe nature is seen in the story’s lack of murder and in how the antagonist is punished; Basile’s Baron “[drives] his wife away, sending her back to her parents,” (95) whereas other tales end with the antagonist dancing to death in red-hot iron shoes. Much like Cienzo’s Hydra, Lisa’s aunt serves as a “diminished foil [that] reflects the limits of this hero” (Maganini, 190).

Although it was written nearly two centuries after Basile’s, the Brothers Grimm “Snow White” serves as perhaps the most well-known print edition of the “Snow-White” type. It is from this story that many other, arguably more famous, interpretations are founded. These more famous interpretations, Walt Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarves and Anne Sexton’s “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs,” while paramount in the solidification of the sheer wealth of the fame of “Snow-White”, are not going to be discussed in great detail, opting, instead, to analyze the foundation on which these versions are placed: Brothers Grimm “Snow White.” The Brothers’ edition of this tale, being more well-known, seems much more familiar to American audiences. Snow White is born and eventually poisoned by her wicked Step-Mother; she is resurrected and glorified; the wicked Step-Mother is punished accordingly: she must dance in red-hot iron shoes until she dies. Perhaps the last portion is less familiar to American audiences who have only experienced the Walt Disney edit, but the rest of the story serves to be identical to Disney’s. The relationship between Snow White and her Step-Mother in the Brother’s, and Disney’s, edition provide much more evidence for the Step-Mother’s strong role of antagonist and foil to Snow White. In “Snow White and Her Wicked Stepmother,” Sandra M. Gilbert and Susan Gubar highlight “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” (292).

They continue to notice foil parallels regarding the main conflict between the two characters; they note that “both have been locked: a magic looking glass, and an enchanting glass coffin” (292). These two mode of glass establish the undeniable conflict that these two women, character traits aside, face. The Step-Mother uses a glass tool which reflects the life she lives, but also her impending aging and death. Snow White, on the other hand, holds a glass item which, although she is vivacious and unqualified, represents the lasting nature of death. Before the story ends, the ownership of these glass items are, symbolically, of course, reversed. Snow White, being resurrected and glorified, can enjoy her reflections and life, while her Step-Mother gains death as is represented by Snow White’s sarcophagus.

Further parallels are drawn between the relationship between Snow White and her Step-Mother when observed through a Biblical lens; these observations prove the necessary nature of Snow White and her Step-Mother’s relationship. By analyzing the descriptions of these characters and their actions through a Biblical lens, one easily recognizes the scriptural parallels and their role in cementing the necessary dichotomy of good and evil present within the Brothers Grimm “Snow White”.

Snow White represents, in both name and deed, a representation of the Messianic Christ figure. Throughout the Grimm tale, Snow white is consistently depicted with the utmost purity. The most prominent and obvious example of this blatant purity is her name. Snow White is as innocent as her name is pure. In the same way, according to Christian theology, Isaiah predicts that Christ will be a perfect sacrifice; His sacrifice and blood being necessary to purify His elect. Isaiah notes that Christ washes sinners and makes them “white as snow” (King James Bible, Isaiah 1:18). Snow White is, at her very core, identified as completely pure by naming. How, then, is the Step-Mother described? The Brothers Grimm note that she has a heart “as cold as stone” and that “envy and pride grew like weeds in her heart” (96). The Brothers remind the reader just how wicked she is; although she is fair, her heart is truly cold and dark.

 Following this description of the Step-Mother’s wicked heart, she hires a Huntsman as an assassin. Although he is instructed to kill Snow White, he is ultimately unable. The Brothers explain that the Huntsman thought that “Snow White was so beautiful … and took pity on her” (96). In this situation, Snow White is the innocent that the Step-Mother plans to harm. The Step-Mother’s goal of child sacrifice, when analyzed through Biblical lenses, further proves her wicked heart. When Abraham is given the command to sacrifice his son, Isaac, God, who uses this to test Abraham’s faith, quickly intervenes and bestows a proper sacrifice in the form of a ram. Unlike the wicked Step-Mother, Abraham did not believe that Isaac would die. Either “God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt offering” (King James Bible, Genesis 22:8), or, as the writer of Hebrews asserts, “that God was able to raise him up, even from the dead” (King James Bible, Hebrews 11:19); the Step-Mother did not believe these things, but, instead, that the death of Snow White allows for her own self-glorification. In this way, Abraham represent the loving and faithful ideal, akin to the representative Christ in Snow White, while the Step-Mother resembles another Biblical entity: Molech. God, speaking through Moses, issues the command that “thou shalt not let any of thy seed pass through the fire to Molech” (King James Bible, Leviticus 18:21). Molech was a Canaanite deity who required the sacrifice of children by burning as a means of gaining glory and honor; in this way, the Step-Mother’s bloodlust finds companionship in the Biblical parallel of Molech.

Following the Step-Mother’s failed attempt at self-glorification by means of child sacrifice, she determines to take up the task of killing Snow White for herself. As a means of deception, an arguably clear nod to the works of Satan, she disguises herself as an older, wiser woman. To effectively kill Snow White, she has created three separate tribulations. As each fail, she progresses further and further into her wickedness. She begins, and fails, with an attempt to suffocate Snow White with an overly tightened lace. When this fails, she attempts to use a poisoned comb; this, too, fails. Her final and most effective method is a poisoned apple. This apple, a clear allusion to the fruit that Eve partakes of in Eden’s paradise, kills Snow White for a period, before she is resurrected. What is the significance of these three trials? The importance of the number three from a Biblical stand-point cannot be understated, and, at first glance, one may be inclined to tie the three trials of Snow White to Jesus’ three temptations in the desert. This parallel can be drawn in number only. Aside from the number of temptations, Snow White’s vices do not seem to compare to the grandiose temptations, as described in Matthew, of bread, power, and glory. The last and deadliest of Snow White’s temptations does hold Biblical importance. The Brothers’ audience knew of the original sin and most likely, as did many European Christians in the nineteenth century, held woman responsible for Eve’s transgression. In this way, Snow White’s acceptance of a poisoned apple mirrors Eve’s acceptance of the sin-fruit. Both fruits lead to death; both are given in deception. Snow White serves as a representation of the pre-fall, pure Eve, as well as of Christ. She is truly pure and as white as snow; this contrasts sharply with the wicked and devilish heart of her Step-Mother.

 By contrasting the language and actions surrounding Snow White and the Step-Mother, the Brothers Grimm, through a Biblical lens, further prove the necessary relationship of antagonist-foil shared by these two characters. Without the dichotomy of good versus evil that Snow White and her Step-Mother provide, the tale ceases to become “Snow-White”; the Biblical parallels present throughout the Grimm rendition only aids in the assertion that these characters’ rivalry and foiling natures are essential to the makeup of this tale. While exegetical interpretations and traditions emanating from Biblical study, and misinterpretation, influence every aspect of psychological and sociological thought during the nineteenth century, some traditions, such as the use of darkness or blackness as a representation of evil, are more difficult to explicitly discover in the Scriptures. By moving away from Biblical foundation towards a more cultural and traditional understanding of how evil is understood in the nineteenth century, one can further grasp the consistent and important nature of the representation of good versus evil in the Brothers Grimm “Snow White.”

This idea of good versus evil being explained through a simplified means of dark versus light is not a new development. Darkness is, arguably, one of the greatest fears of humanity. Joshua Levos and Tammy Lowery Zacchilli, in their article “Nyctophobia: From Imagined to Realistic Fears of the Dark,” discover that, “out of the 122 participants … 54% … rated the dark within their top five fears” (105). They also noted, by testing levels of anxiety, that “a significant difference was found” (106) when given nighttime photos after observing daytime photos. This psychological study serves to prove that humans have, to some degree, an innate fear of, or discomfort with, darkness. The Brothers Grimm manage to effectively handle this darkness in a way that highlights the evil nature of the wicked Step-Mother. The opposite is true also; while darkness is where mankind finds its fear, the light is where humanity enjoys some form of tranquility. This tranquility, again, is best observed in how Snow White is named. Her redundant name serves to imply that she is completely white. This whiteness harbors no darkness; she is perfectly comfortable. The wicked Step-Mother, on the other hand, in order to deceive and harm Snow White, further proving her wickedness, must disguise herself through the use of a darkening agent. The Brothers note that, before she sets out to suffocate Snow White with the lacing, the Step-Mother is “staining her face” (98). This staining, although never directly described as dark, most likely darkens her skin, to some extent. Consider more modern iterations of this tale, such as Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarves where the Step-Mother dawns all black and disguises herself as a witch, yet another clear nod to her wickedness. Jena Stephens, through her analysis of Disney films and fairy tale adaptations, notes that, until the release of Disney’s The Princess and the Frog, “anyone portrayed with dark features of any sort was thought to be representative of a villain” (99).  The Brothers do not give such direct or specific details regarding the results of the Step-Mother’s staining, aside from implications of wickedness, but, based on contemporary authors and their understandings of the corollary relationship between darkness and evil, one can assert this staining to be, if not literal, a metaphorical darkening.

Nathaniel Hawthorne, an American author who wrote, although separated by the Atlantic Ocean, alongside the Brothers Grimm during the nineteenth century, presents one of the best cases for the use of the dark or the black as a representation of the evil. Maria Stromberg, in her article “Hawthorne's Black Man: Image of Social Evil,” analyzes the use of the Black Man in Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter as a physical representation of evil. Stromberg notes that “[t]he main image of this evil that threatens a whole community can be found in the mysterious figure of the Black Man” (274). Although much mystery surrounds this man, the villagers all know to avoid him; his given title is no coincidence, either. By giving this mysterious, arguably fictitious, character the title of “Black,” Hawthorne asserts that those things which are dark or black represent evil. By analyzing this small, yet important, use of contemporary literary language, one can more easily note the significance of the Step-Mother’s use of staining as a means of revealing her wicked nature. Her following actions, centering around the murder of Snow White, of course, strengthen this accusation of her malice. As the Step-Mother is more strongly aligned with wickedness and Snow White with goodness, the reader cannot ignore the obvious dichotomy; they serve to foil one another in their antagonism.

While Basile and the Brothers Grimm tell “Snow-White” in its more traditional format, Neil Gaiman, in “Snow, Glass, Apples,” retells this story in a way that swaps the roles of protagonist and antagonist. With Snow White as the wicked aggressor and the Step-Mother as, arguably, the morally upright, their relationship, being completely reversed, still holds true to the themes of foiling presented in the classic iterations. Although Snow White is now wicked, her relationship with her Step-Mother is still one of antagonism. The Step-Mother continues to serve as a foil to Snow White’s character. Gaiman imagines the Step-Mother, no longer needing the epithet “wicked,” as a young, inexperienced wife. She recalls, “I was foolish, and young—eighteen summers had come and gone since I first saw daylight—and I did not do what I would do, now” (108). The Step-Mother, as the newly appointed queen, is perplexed by the idea of how she might deal with an increasingly dangerous issue: Snow White. The Step-Mother recalls the travesties that Snow White is responsible for as the tale’s antagonist, an obvious reversal of roles. She explains that “[Snow White] killed her mother in the birthing” (107) and further implies that Snow White’s father also dies as a result of her wickedness; the Step-Mother notices “a multitude of ancient scars” (108) which, the reader may deduce, appear to be closely related to the scar given to the queen as a result of Snow White’s vampiric desires.

The Step-Mother, in this edition, claims, indirectly, to be the party that is grossly wronged. She continues to back this up with slight nods to Snow White’s corruption of the actual events; these corruptions creating the form of “Snow-White” that Basile and Grimm detail. When detailing the removal of Snow White’s heart by the huntsman the Step-Mother reminds the reader that she has done nothing overtly cruel and that she has been wronged. She notes that “they say that I was fooled; that it was not her heart. That it was the heart of an animal … They are wrong” (108). She continues by addressing, and denying, another common event within the Grimm tale: “and some say (but it is her lie, not mine) that I was given the heart and that I ate it” (108). The Step-Mother further assures the reader of her innocence and continues to insist on the guilt and wickedness of Snow White. As the story progresses, the Step-Mother continues to attempt to thwart and slay Snow White, as is traditionally held within this tale, but the difference lies in the motivation. The Step-Mother fears for the safety of herself and her kingdom; as Snow White continues to slay and feast upon travelers in her vampiric lusts, the Head of the Fair asks the Queen, “do you know what is keeping the travelers from our town? What is happening to the forest people?’ (111). The Queen, proving her positive alignment, assures the Head of the Fair that she “would personally take it upon [herself] to make the forest safe once more” (111) despite her blatant fear of Snow White. The Queen, in following the traditional plotline, is wholly unsuccessful in her attempts to slay Snow White, and, just as the older stories recount, to some extent, the Queen is burned alive. How can the reader be sure that this story really revolves around Snow White and not some horrific vampires? The Step-Mother clearly identifies and labels Snow White when she notes that she “will think of her hair as black as coal, her lips as red as blood, her skin, snow-white (116).

Through the analysis of multiple iterations of the “Snow-White” type, one can easily discern the important relationship that Snow White and the Step-Mother share. Whether this Step-Mother/Queen serves to antagonize and torture Snow White/Lisa, as seen in Basile and the Brothers’ “The Young Slave” and “Snow White” respectively, or to, with good intent, serve as the story’s hero, as in Gaiman’s “Snow, Glass, Apples,” she serves as an opposition to Snow White and, ultimately, as her foil. Through the analysis of three varying takes on this story, the consistency of the Queen/Step-Mother as foil proves her foundational need within the story. Without this Queen figure, whether she be antagonist or protagonist, the “Snow-White” type cannot exist. This use of necessitated foiling of protagonist is also evident in one other fairy tale type: “Little Red Riding Hood.”

Much like the relationship between Snow White and her Step-Mother, the relationship between Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf is founded upon antagonism and foiling. The Wolf, through several modes of temptation and danger, serves as a means by which Little Red Riding Hood may find harm; likewise, the methods and modes by which the Wolf operate function as an effective polarization from the way in which Little Red Riding Hood acts. Through analysis of both characters and their acts, the reader easily discerns the necessary antagonistic and foiling relationship that they hold; without the Wolf to foil Little Red Riding Hood, the story fails to find classification as a “Little Red Riding Hood” type.

            Charles Perrault, in “Little Red Riding Hood,” highlights the obvious dichotomy of good and evil in Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf. He notes that, while Little Red Riding Hood walks to her grandmother’s house, the Wolf “wanted to eat her right there on the spot” (16). As a means of contrasting the protagonist, Perrault notes that Little Red Riding Hood is naïve and a “poor child … who did not know that it was dangerous to stop and listen to wolves” (16). The Wolf goes on to, with intent to consume Little Red Riding Hood, deceive both the Grandmother and her granddaughter. Through his use of deception and trickery, the Wolf serves to foil the upfront and naïve nature of Little Red Riding Hood. It is the young girl’s innocence that allows for the Wolf’s vile nature to flourish. Upon meeting the Wolf, Little Red Riding Hood describes her quest to deliver goods to her Grandmother’s house and then describes the location of her abode. The Wolf, using these directions as inspiration, informs Little Red Riding Hood that he too will visit Grandma. He manipulates the innocent nature of the young girl as a means of filling his belly through deception. Upon arriving at her Grandma’s house, Little Red Riding Hood is confronted with an unfamiliar grandparent; the Wolf, disguised as the Grandma, in what is debated as sexually charged, orders the young girl to strip and enter bed with her. This perverse order proves the savage tendencies of a beast such as the Wolf. Such bestial desires appear as a clear contrast to the innocent and trusting Little Red Riding Hood. What follows her arrival to her Grandma’s house is arguably the most famous set of lines from this story, ones where the Wolf, serving to foil Little Red Riding Hood’s innocent character, deceives her by playing along with her observations. Little Red Riding hood notes, “Grandmother … what big arms you have … what big legs you have … what big ears you have … what big eyes you have … what big teeth you have” (17). Through a physical description of the Wolf, Perrault highlights the foiling relationship these two characters share. If Little Red Riding Hood were not significantly smaller than the Wolf, why would she note the noticeably large size of his body? The Wolf, through the young protagonist’s observations, is described as both much larger, and much more savage than Little Red Riding Hood. By describing his large limbs and teeth, as well as his earlier, sexually charged command, the Wolf contrasts himself from the civil, small Little Red Riding Hood.

            Zohar Shavit, in “The Concept of Childhood and Children’s Folktales: Test Case—‘Little Red Riding Hood,’” outlines the role of childhood and adulthood within fairy tales. Shavit notes that “up until the seventeenth century the child was not perceived as an entity distinct from an adult, and consequently he was not recognized as having special needs” (318). This understanding of how children, and their characters, were perceived allows for a stronger analysis of Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf. Shavit asserts “up until the seventeenth century,” which, one can assume, means that the seventeenth century is the period in which perceptions of childhood and innocence began to change; this is also the time in which Charles Perrault is writing his fairy tales. Shavit goes on to note that “until the seventeenth century children were an integral part of adult society” (319). Little Red Riding Hood, a fictitious product of the seventeenth century, represents the innocent nature that children, in Perrault’s time, are beginning to be associated with. It is this innocent nature that further polarizes Little Red Riding Hood’s character from the antagonistic Wolf, who seeks to deceive and murder. By understanding the perception, although changing, in Perrault’s era, the reader can better understand the strong opposition present within the characters of the protagonist and antagonist.

            The Brothers Grimm, in “Little Red Cap,” follow an extremely similar path as Perrault. Little Red Riding Hood, in their edition, manages to be deceived and swallowed by the Wolf. The main difference comes in how these stories end. Perrault’s Wolf is victorious in his goal to consume Little Red Riding Hood and Grandma; the Grimm Wolf, however, is not so lucky. The Brothers recount that “once the wolf had satisfied his desires, he … fell asleep” and then “a huntsman happened to be passing by the house” and upon seeing the Wolf exclaimed, “I’ve found you at last, you old sinner” (20). The Brothers do not give any history or background for the Huntsman’s distaste for the Wolf; the reader only knows that the Wolf is an enemy of the Huntsman. It is possible that the Wolf has, in some way, harmed or offended the Huntsman, but the more probable explanation is that the Wolf serves as an Other character. Anne B. Simpson, in her article, “The ‘Tangible Antagonist’: H. G. Wells and the Discourse of Otherness,” notes that the Other is “that which one defines as different from and usually hostile to oneself” (134). This observation stands to explain the reaction the Huntsman has towards the Wolf. The Wolf, as an Other, is naturally hostile towards man, making him an enemy of the Huntsman. Simpson continues to note that, when dealing with the Other, “mankind’s will to perceive the world as fissured into two groups—those with whom we (narrator and, by implication, reader) identify, and those whom we loathe or revile” (135). Simpson’s analysis of the role of the Other on the overall tone of the narrative serves to prove the foiling relationship present between Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf. By inserting the Huntsman into the tale, the Brothers Grimm, in a break from Perrault’s version, provide a character capable of labeling the Wolf as an Other. This introduction of the character of the Other allows for Little Red Riding hood to be further polarized from the Wolf; as Simpson notes, mankind has a natural tendency to divide itself into two camps: the “us” and the “them.” Little Red Riding Hood, by accepting the Wolf as an Other, further cements the antagonistic and foiling relationship present between them.

            The relationship present between the roles of antagonist and protagonist within Aarne-Thompson type 709 (“Snow-White”) and 333 (“Little Red Riding Hood”) fairy tales serve as much more than simple bases of conflict. These antagonists relationships function in a way that allows for the protagonists to be a complete opposite, or foil, to the antagonist. By analyzing these relationships, the reader fully grasps the foiling nature of the relationship present between the main protagonist and main antagonist from several tales within these two Arne-Thompson types. Through the analysis of Giambattista Basile’s “the Young Slave,” the Brothers Grimm “Snow White,” and Neil Gaiman’s “Snow, Glass, Apples” one easily acknowledges the necessity of the foiling relationship between the “Snow-White” figure and the Queen/Step-Mother/Witch. While Basile and Grimm allow for their “Snow-White” character to be the protagonist, Neil Gaiman presents a reworking of the tale wherein Snow White is established as the antagonist; the end result is the same. When the roles of antagonist and protagonist are reversed, the two characters still maintain their foiling relationship. This creates a consistent foundation upon which “Snow-White” tales must be founded upon. If the “Snow-White” character is not a foil of the Queen/Step-Mother/Witch, then, at least according to previous iterations, the tale fails to be a “Snow-White” type. Likewise, when the “Little Red Riding Hood” type is analyzed, Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf consistently hold an antagonistic and foiling relationship. Through analyses of Charles Perrault’s “Little Red Riding Hood,” and the Brothers Grimm “Little Red Cap” one easily ascertains the important and foundational role of the relationship between the Wolf and Little Red Riding Hood. The Wolf is savage, both in terms of perversion and physical prowess, large, and deceitful; Little Red Riding Hood, however, is portrayed as naïve, and trusting. She does not seek to deceive, but instead always acts honestly and genuinely. The Brothers Grimm, as a break from Perrault’s, establishes the Wolf as an Other. This classification of the Wolf as Other further separates and polarizes Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf. Through observations and analyses of these two sets of characters, one easily notes that without the nature of foil between them, the stories cease to be themselves. Without the opposition of the Wolf from Little Red Riding Hood and the Step-Mother from Snow White, these stories would be truly foiled.

Works Cited

Basile, Giambattista. “The Young Slave.” The Classic Fairy Tales, edited by Maria Tatar, W. W. Norton & Company, 2016, pp. 92-95.

Bottigheimer, Ruth B. “The Transformed Queen: A Search for the Origins of Negative Female Archetypes in Grimms’ Fairy Tales.” Amsterdamer Beiträge zur neueren Germanistik, vol. 10, 1980, pp. 1-12. EBSCOhost.

Gaiman, Neil. “Snow, Glass, Apples.” The Classic Fairy Tales, edited Maria Tatar, W. W. Norton & Company, 2016, pp. 106-116.

Gilbert, Sandra M., and Gubar, Susan. “Snow White and Her Wicked Stepmother.” The Classic Fairy Tales, edited by Maria Tatar, W. W. Norton & Company, 1999, pp. 291-297.

Grimm, Brothers. “Little Red Cap.” The Classic Fairy Tales, edited by Maria Tatar, W. W. Norton & Company, 2016, pp. 18-21.

Grimm, Brothers. “Snow White.” The Classic Fairy Tales, edited by Maria Tatar, W. W. Norton & Company, 2016, pp. 95-102.

Levos, Joshua, and Zacchilli, Tammy Lowery. “Nyctophobia: From Imagined to Realistic Fears of the Dark.” Psi Chi Journal of Psychological Research, vol. 20, no. 2, 2015, pp. 102-110. EBSCOhost.

Maganini, Suzanne. “Foils and Fakes: The Hydra in Giambattista Basile's Dragon-Slayer Tale, ‘Lo mercante.’” Marvels & Tales, vol. 19, no. 2, 2005, pp. 167-196. EBSCOhost.

Perrault, Charles. “Little Red Riding Hood.” The Classic Fairy Tales, edited Maria Tatar, W. W. Norton & Company, 2016, pp. 16-18.

Schaffer, Rachel. “V. I. Talks Back: Sara Paretsky's Unlikable Characters as Foes and Foils.” Clues, vol. 25, no. 2, Winter 2017, pp. 31-42. EBSCOhost.

Shavit, Zohar. “The Concept of Childhood and Children’s Folktales: Test Case—“Little Red Riding Hood.” The Classic Fairy Tales, edited Maria Tatar, W. W. Norton & Company, 1999, pp. 317-332.

Simpson, Anne B. “The ‘Tangible Antagonist’: H.G. Wells and the Discourse of Otherness.” Extrapolation, vol. 31, no. 2, 1990, pp. 135-147. EBSCOhost.

Stephens, Jenna. “Disney’s Darlings: An Analysis of The Princess and the Frog, Tangled, Brave and The Changing Characterization of the Princess Archetype.” Interdisciplinary Humanities, vol. 31, no. 3, Fall 2014, pp. 95-107. EBSCOhost.

Stromberg, Maria. “Hawthorne's Black Man: Image of Social Evil.” The Explicator, vol. 67, no. 4, 2009, pp. 274-276. EBSCOhost.

Tatar, Maria, editor. The Classic Fairy Tales. W. W. Norton & Company, 2016.

Review of a Modern Fairy Tale: Moana

Walt Disney Studios’ most recent release into the “Disney princess” subgenre of their fairy tale animated movies, Moana, effectively and powerfully motivates and, ideally, teaches the audience a valuable lesson about xenophobia and ethnocentrism. The movie revolves around a young woman, Moana, who is the daughter of her island’s chief. As the soon-to-be chief of Motonui, her island, Moana is constantly being trained and taught how to effectively rule as a chieftain. The lack of romantic male figure or potential “prince charming” trope sets this movie apart from previous Disney installments, in that this story encourages the independence of women. Without a male to lead Moana, she stays alone; she does so efficiently. As the story progresses, Moana sets out to right the wrongs of a demi-god named Maui. This divine male, although powerful and intimidating, is utterly hopeless. The eventual quest is ultimately completed due to Moana’s fierce and instructive leadership, further proving a woman’s ability to stand and live independently of men.

 Before she can begin the aforementioned quest, however, Moana must escape her island. In a classic Disney fashion, Moana yearns to follow her heart, and, after much singing with incredible lyrics from Linn Manuel-Miranda, Moana escapes the xenophobic and ethnocentric tendencies of her father, the chief. Perhaps this obvious disdain of ethnocentrism in favor of exploring the world is meant as a knock against the recent rise of right-winged nationalism within the world political spectrum? If so, the movie does a decent job of condemning those thoughts. The end of the movie sees Moana’s father embracing life outside of the island and accepting the larger world around him.

            Once Moana does leave the island, she escorts Maui to their ultimate destination. Again, she serves to be the support the male needs, as opposed to the traditional Disney formula of the male supporting the female. As the plot finds resolution through different takes on the Polynesian pantheon and interactions with ancestors and spirits, the audience is moved, in part due to an excellent musical score, through the powerful message of the film. This movie, in traditional Disney fashion, supports the idea of following one’s heart and pursuing their goals and dreams, but Moana seems to take it deeper than this. The film appears to promote the idea that, when people conquer their fears, as Moana and her father ultimately do, they can achieve that which they never believed to be possible. Essentially the message is the same, but to some degree, the way in which they present it is much more powerful and moving. Although the film does move and teach in ways that previous films do not, the story itself does have some weaknesses. The execution of the plot and the transition between scenes can, at times, be either too slow, or so fast that they appear forced or choppily done. These criticism, however, are small compared to the strengths given.

            Moana, a modern, more exotic take on the “Disney princess” trope, effectively promotes a worldview wherein woman are independent and valued beyond their marriagability, and encourages people to push past their unnecessary prejudices and see the world for what it is. These two promotions, when coupled with the overarching thesis of overcoming baseless fears in an effort to achieve greatness, help cement and solidify Moana as a modern fairy tale that is redefining the role of women and adventure that Disney films have promoted for decades.

Creative Revision of the Brothers Grimm "The Old Man and His Grandson"

“Mommy, Daddy,” begins the young boy, “Why do people take their pets to the pound?”

His mother was the first to respond. “Oh, sweetie. Those cruel people just don’t love their p-”

“They’ve abandoned their pets, son,” the father interrupts.

This seemingly random outburst was a result of an advert for the local pound encouraging pet adoption. The boy, whose curiosity is now sated, finds himself dozing off in his booster seat; his fading consciousness picking up words and phrases from his parents’ conversations.

“What’s a nursing home…” he begins before falling completely out of consciousness. He jerks awake suddenly as he hears his father’s door closing with significant force. As he wipes the yawning-tears from his eyes, he becomes especially aware of his location; he is filled with a sudden excitement.

“GRANDPA!!!” he shouts. He is quick to unbuckle and fly to his grandfather’s side. It is obvious, however, that his grandfather is being scolded, once again for mistaken action. The boy looks up and notices the two cars in the driveway are closer than usual.

“Daddy, why are Mommy and Grandpa’s car touching?”

“Because, son, some one,” this last word said with an especial pointed annoyance, “has decided to, against our best wishes, attempt to drive around town!”

“Daddy, are you angry?”

“Honey,” began the Mother, “better leave your father alone.”

The boy, at his Mother’s behest, is taken inside and instructed to play with his toys. He can hear intense and frustrated discussion between his Mother and Father through the walls. Eventually, his curiosity gets the best of him; he must investigate. He quietly trots within hearing distance of his parents’ conversation. He doesn’t understand what is being said.

“We have all the paperwork filled out. We can put your father in the nicest home in the area. It will be better for him. He will be cared for and will not be such a burden on our family.”

The boy did not understand who they were talking about, or what a “home” was. He knew that Grandpa was his Mother’s father. “Maybe,” he thought, “they are planning to take him somewhere as a surprise!”

Within a matter of days, the Grandfather is transitioned to a local nursing home. The boy, although sad to see his Grandfather leave, is excited for his surprise trip.

As several months pass and the boy finds himself in grade school with homework and projects, he begins to think less and less of his grandfather. One day, for the boy’s last homework assignment of the school year, he has to map out his dream life. While imagining how happy his life could be, the boy remembers his Grandfather.

“OH!” he exclaims. He knows exactly how he would plan his life.

As the boy is finishing his life map, his parents came to check on his work. Noticing an interesting section of the map, his mother asks, “Honey, what does this part mean? Where are your Father and I going when you grow up?”

“Mom, Dad, you will love that! I’m going to send you both on an extended and happy vacation like you did for Grandpa!”

The child’s naiveté pangs the parents. Following their evaluation of the boy’s work, the Mother and Father, after some long and difficult discussions, come to their decision.

The following day, the Father, while packing up his car for a trip, calls the nursing home.

Puss in Boots: Acknowledging the Censorship of Violent, Sexual Language

While I am certainly familiar with the name Puss in Boots and Antonia Banderas's role in Shrek, the origins and history of this character and fairy tale of the same name are wholly foreign to me. In "The Poor Miller’s Boy and the Cat," the Brothers Grimm 1812 edition of this classic fairy tale, a miller's apprentice is sent out to find a valuable horse. While searching, this boy is enlisted to work for a tabby cat for seven years; the prize for this work is "a really fine-looking horse ... that is more beautiful than anything you have ever seen" (347-348). This young miller's assistant works tirelessly for seven years and is ultimately rewarded, not with the horse, but with the hand of the cat-turned- princess in marriage. As a break from the traditional narrative instituted by Giovanni Francesco Straparola in 1550, the Brothers Grimm present a story wherein the tabby cat is the princess by which the miller's assistant finds economic salvation. The more traditional interpretations follow a young miller's assistant who solicits aid from a conniving feline in boots in order to win the heart of a princess; the Brothers Grimm break from this more sexualized tradition. In her article "Sex and Violence: The Hard Core of Fairy Tales," Maria Tatar notes that "when it came to passages colored by sexual details or to plots based on Oedipal conflicts, Wilhelm Grimm exhibits extraordinary editorial zeal. Over the years, he systematically purged the collection of references to sexuality" (452).

Angela Carter, in keeping with the more traditional, complex and sexualized nature of the Puss in Boots fairy tale, reinvents this narrative in her own "Puss-in-Boots." In her reimagination of this classic tale, Carter injects that which Wilhelm censored: sexuality and violence. This violent and sexual language is most noticeable when Signor Furioso and Signora Panteleone are consummating their love and Puss in Boots is commanded to "'mimic the murder of rats, Puss! Mask the music of Venus [sex] with the clamour of Diana [the hunt]!'" (78). Here Carter, as a revisitation of the fairy tale's older elements, uses violent language as a mirror for sexual intercourse. Violence is, for Signor Furioso, the necessary action needed to deceitfully conceal the clamour of adulterous sex. Carter, in stark contrast to the Brothers Grimm, presents the tale in an unedited, truer form.

The question that one must raise following an analysis of edited and unedited folk tales is: which is more appropriate for a child? Bruno Bettelheim, in his article "The Struggle for Meaning," asserts that "nothing can be as enriching and satisfying to child and adult alike as the folk fairy tale" (270). He continues to acknowledge that "[the child's] life is often bewildering to him, [because of this] the child needs even more to be given the chance to understand himself in this complex world with which he must learn to cope" (270). Bettelheim seems to believe that the complex nature of fairy tales, in their unedited forms, serve as the best form of entertainment and learning for children and their parents. Following this logic, Angela Carter's more worldly and true-to-form version of Puss in Boots trumps Wilhelm's edition. I, however, remain hesitant to provide entertainment to my children that, like Carter's edition, promote deception, infidelity, and murder. When it comes to finding stories and lessons for my [future] children, I much prefer the moral given in Wilhelm's "The Poor Miller’s Boy and the Cat": "don't let people tell you that a simpleton will never amount to anything in life" (353).

A History of Snow White's Immaculate Conception

Dawson Shannon

English 575

Dr. Rufleth

4/16/17

An History of Christian Thought in Snow White

            Snow White is one of the most beloved and well-known stories of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. Although Disney is responsible for this modern resurgence in fame, Snow White has endured and survived for centuries. This story, with its many iterations and reinterpretations, serves to inspire and awe audiences of all ages; this is true regardless of the reader’s age. When analyzing the effect and power of a story like Snow White, one must always look to its conception. By tracing an historical line through major works and iterations based on the Snow-White tale, one can see how trends and beliefs evolve over time. By comparing Giambattista Basile’s “The Young Slave” (1634), the Brothers Grimm “Snow White” (1812), Anne Sexton’s Snow “White and the Seven Dwarfs” (1928), and Neil Gaiman’s “Snow, Glass, Apples” (1994) one can see how perceptions of Snow White and her trials evolve and, arguably, devolve from iteration to reiteration.

            Those editions of Snow White that were written before the mid-twentieth century serve similar purposes. Basile, Brothers Grimm, and Sexton all retell a story wherein Snow White is a representative Christ figure. This young, innocent girl experiences, as Steve Swann Jones acknowledges, “birth, jealousy, expulsion, adoption, renewed jealousy, death, exhibition, resuscitation, and resolution” (85). Much like Christ, Snow White stands as a rod by which readers of all ages may measure themselves. One such area of reflection these stories allow for is the role of a fatherless birth. How does the shifting view of immaculate conception in Snow White allow for an understanding of shifting views of religiosity and morality?

 Consider Basile’s 1634 “The Young Slave Girl” wherein the young woman, named Lisa, is pure and wholly innocent. Much like Christ, Lisa is a product of immaculate conception after her mother “picked [a leaf] up from the ground … and swallowed it” (92). This reference to the natural, yet supernatural conception of Lisa is a clear comparison to Christ. Lisa, much like Jesus, is a product of the will of God and must be, according to the minds of the readers, an innocent creation. By the utilization of plant metaphors, Basile allows for Lisa to exist as a simple, yet necessary creation in the world. She is not, as is the rest of humanity, a creation of mutual effort between two human beings. Instead, Lisa is a simple seedling. This plant imagery invokes biblical thoughts of agriculture; the Apostle Paul, when addressing the Church at Corinth reminds his parishioners that “so then neither is he that planteth any thing, neither he that watereth; but God that giveth the increase” (King James Bible, 1 Cor. 3.7). The use of plant imagery serves to remind the readers that the growth of plants, both in the ground and in Lilla’s womb, is God’s will, and that God works “all things together for good” (King James Bible, Rom. 8.28). The rest of Lisa’s life serves as a story of perseverance, patience, and godliness for those reading. Basile’s story is one of moral hope; a hope that begins with an immaculate conception.

Like Basile’s rendition, the later Brothers Grimm 1812 story, “Snow White,” details the conception of Snow White through a gentle prick of a thorn. The Brothers Grimm note that “a queen was sitting and sewing by a window … [and] while she was sewing … she pricked her finger with a needle … [and] soon thereafter she gave birth to a child” (95). While it is true that more modern feminist readings of this exchange see the prick of the finger, and subsequent blood, as a metaphorical allusion to sexual penetration, the prick of the needle serves spiritual significance. For the queen, Snow White is a blessing that originates from pain. This idea of suffering to bear fruit is common and known to those of the Christian faith. Consider the words of the Apostle Paul when he tells the Church at Corinth that “there was given to me a thorn in the flesh … [and] I am become a fool in glorying” (King James Bible, 2 Cor. 12.7, 11). Paul notes that although he is pricked by a thorn and suffers, he is glad to bear fruit and glorify God in doing so.

As a break, both in time and in literary style, from the previous two interpretations of the Snow-White fairy tale, Anna Sexton, in her 1928 poem “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs”, poetically reminds the readers of Snow Whites immaculate conception. Sexton attributes the supernatural creation of Snow White to the thrust of a unicorn. Again, feminist interpretations may assert the sexualized and phallic nature of a unicorn thrust, but the following lines serve to disprove such notions. Sexton notes that the queen’s eyes are “shut for the thrust / of the unicorn. / She is unsoiled / She is as white as a bonefish” (102). By acknowledging the supernatural pick necessary to conceive Snow White and the following assertion that the queen remains pure, Sexton proves to the readers the divine, immaculate conception of Snow White. Much like Christ’s conception through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, the unicorn serves as a divine being who, through the puncture of his horn, impregnates the queen. While further parallels between punctures and Paul’s thorn are easily drawn, the comparison between the divine nature of conception by divine beings evidences the supernatural nature of Snow White conception.

Marianne Stoke’s Snow White, 1900

            Whereas Basile, Brothers Grimm, and Anne Sexton all portray the conception of Snow White as small supernatural or divine acts, Neil Gaiman, in his 1994 story “Snow, Glass, Apples,” creates, in Snow White, a damnable beast. Gaiman, when describing the birth of Snow White and beginning his short story, notes, through the eyes of Snow White’s step-mother, or evil witch, that “I do not know what manner of thing she is. None of us do. She killed her mother in the birthing, but that’s never enough to account for it” (106). Gaiman, in a seeming departure from classical understandings of Snow White’s birth as being positively divine, notes that Snow White is the cause of her mother’s death. Unlike the usual description of death in childbirth, Gaiman utilizes the active verb “killed.” The birth of Snow White is not what kills her mother; she does. This breaks from the God-given and ordained birth of Snow White in earlier stories. By observing the transition from ancestor to modern, readers see the shift from religiously moral, to modern secular amoralism.

            When observing the shift in Snow-White type tales, one may not notice a shift in moral religiosity between Basile’s seventeenth century work and Sexton’s early twentieth century work; the true shift between classical and modern fairy tales, regarding Snow White, is seen in the years between Sexton (1928) and Gaiman (1994). This shift marks a rise in secularist literature and a departure from religiously inspired morality within the literature. Whereas Snow White, being a type of Christ, as is seen in her virgin birth, stands as a measuring rod of patient morality in the earlier works, Gaiman’s modern rendition serves as a shift and break from tradition. Through this break, one sees that history is not always as it seems; perhaps Gaiman’s interpretation also serves to set a foundation for future editions to classical fairy tales.

Critical Mischief?

When analyzing a work of literature, context and history are absolutely necessary. This basic guideline changes neither from topic to topic nor genre to genre; fairy tales are no different. One such example, wherein context and history are necessary, is the Cinderella type, or, according to Arne Thompson, the AT510 (376). Many cultures have their own Cinderella story; by understanding the history and context of these stories, analysts and critics can better grasp and understand the evolution these stories take.

When observing the AT510 story, the oldest known edition, "Yeh-hsien," written around 850 A.D., contains noticeable differences from the modern, albeit Disney-perverted, renditions. Consider the role of the animals to whom Cinderella relies on? According to the Chinese tale, Yeh-hsien relies on a fish who she personally raises (146). This sharply contrasts to the Brothers Grimm "Cinderella," wherein Cinderella is aided by anonymous birds. The Brothers note that when Cinderella needed aid she simply said, "O tame little doves ... come and help me ... [and then] two white doves came flying in ... followed by turtle doves" (150). Unlike the fish in "Yeh-hsien," the reader is not given any prior knowledge of Cinderella and the birds' relationship. This short section allows for the reader to notice a significant difference that a millennia and continental separation can play within the evolution of a tale. This observation, however, is not possible within a collection of assorted tales such as The Annotated Brothers Grimm. For the literary critic and analyst, the comparisons of topics within shifting works of the same story type allow for the ability to observe literary evolution takes place. If a collection only contains one sample of specific type works, then research, and further literary understanding, cannot take place. This ability to analyze and observe shifts in the overall narrative allow for a greater understanding of the work, even among those uninterested in scholarly criticism.

The Erl-King

The Erl-King

A Brief History of Snow White: Its Relation to Christian Thought

One need not be a theologian or a literary critic to notice and appreciate the obvious Christian motifs present in many Fairy Tales. Although many of these Fairy Tales are known through their modern Disney retellings, most of these popular tales, those finding their conception in Europe especially, hold strong Christian values and beliefs. One powerful and easily discernible case is Snow White. This story, and its many branches and spin offs, boast strong Christian, albeit medieval, theological thoughts and beliefs. These elements are seen in the purity of Snow White and the antithetical and total depravity of the Step-Mother/Queen/Witch, as well as through a plethora of other, more obscure Christian imagery.

The blatant purity associated with Snow White allows for her to be a metaphorical, or arguably allegorical, Christ figure or representative. Although, unlike the Biblical Christ, Snow White is altogether immobile, she continues to radiate and exude innocence, naivete, and purity. Steve Swann Jones acknowledges that Snow White's life follows a sequence of "birth, jealousy, expulsion, adoption, renewed jealousy, death, exhibition, resuscitation, and resolution" (85). This sequence of events, Jones asserts, is "the reflection of a young woman's development". I believe this sequence to be representative of much more. Consider the life and upbringing of the Biblical Jesus. He is born and must flee due to Herod's jealousy; rejected and accepted; crucified, put on show and buried; raised from the dead and, ultimately, ascends to Heaven. Snow White appears to be closely related to the Biblical Christ in reference to her sequential life and blatant purity. One cannot help but notice the innate purity referenced by the name Snow White. According to Christian theology, Christ, as predicted by Isaiah, washes sinners and makes them "white as snow"(King James Bible, Isaiah 1:18).

Snow White's Step Mother/Queen, on the other hand, serves to hold the traits that belong to Eve instead of Christ. Consider how Giambattista Basile describes the Queen in his Snow White-type tale, The Young Slave, following the King's order to stay away from Lisa's tomb, a parallel character to Snow White. Basile writes that "[the Queen] began to feel suspicious, and impelled by jealousy and consumed by curiosity, which is woman's first attribute, took the key and went to open the room" (93). Basile stereotypes all women as being consumed by curiosity. This stereotype is firmly rooted in the innate curiosity of Eve as she listened to the Serpent in the Garden of Eden; this curiosity drives Eve to take the forbidden fruit just as the Queen is driven to disobey the King. The Queen, following her blatant disobedience, is cast out of her kingdom. Basile notes that the King "drove his wife away, sending her back to her parents" (94). This expulsion of the Queen mirrors Eve's (and Adam's) expulsion from the Garden of Eden in Genesis 3. The reference to the Queen's parents can also, though possibly a stretch, be seen, by the audience, as an acknowledgment of the Queen's theological lineage. Jesus, when rebuking the religious leaders of his day, references their "father the devil" as a means of signifying their wickedness (King James Bible, John 8:44). Basile, through this small reference, lays the foundation for further acknowledgment of the Queen's wickedness.

Although the Queen holds many future Eve-parallels, Snow White, although a seemingly exalted Christ-figure, is, as a woman, not exempt from the European Christian view of womanhood. In their well-known Snow White, the Brother's Grimm remind the readers that White is still a woman descending from Eve. They note that "[she] felt a craving for the beautiful apple, and ... she could no longer resist ... but no sooner had she taken a bite when she fell down on the ground dead" (100). White, like Eve, sees that the fruit is good for food and consumes it. For White, this move results in her temporary demise. For Eve, this consumption of forbidden fruit allows for the entrance and consequential inheritance of Sin in the world. This Original Sin, according to Christian theology, leads to death. In both cases, a curious woman consumes fruit and beckons death; these parallels, in the minds of European Christian audiences, are undeniable.

While not all of the Christian elements present within the Snow White-type, the foiled characteristics of the immaculate Snow White and the totally depraved Queen serve as metaphorical, and possibly allegorical insights into the thoughts and beliefs of both European Christian authors and audiences. These thoughts and beliefs, when contrasted with the evolution of the tales, culminating in modern Disney interpretations, allow for an historical analysis of what the base, or original audiences believed and how these beliefs were distilled through popular story-telling.

How Does One Combat a Big Bad Wolf?

Little Red Riding Hood, or LRRH for short, is an extremely well-known and overdone story ranging from folktales filled with moral lessons and advice to Blue Yonder Films' Hoodwinked! These stories all share common elements, and generally, common characters. The protagonist, a young girl, must deliver some sort of edible goods to her grandmother; on the way she must deal with, in some fashion, an intelligent wolf. Sometimes the young girl, or Red, finds herself eaten, and other times she bests the wolf. These innumerable versions vary depending on whether there is an intended lesson or moral to be taught, and the respective audience the story is directed towards. The Grimm Brothers, for instance, retell LRRH as a folktale wherein Red, who overcomes the Wolf, is able to live happily following her salvation from imminent digestion. Red and her grandmother are saved, and the villainous protagonist, the Wolf, is destroyed. The Grimm Brothers successfully retell LRRH as a children's tale through use of two main elements: the tone of the story and the way in which the story ends.

When analyzing more contemporary retellings of LRRH, one can easily misjudge the intended audience of the text. The story is, after all, intended solely for children, correct? Does each retelling of LRRH teach some sort of moral lesson wherein the intended, youthful audiences can grow morally? The earliest written telling of LRRH, recorded by Perrault, did not follow the aforementioned premise, and neither do all the other retellings. One such example of a LRRH story intended for adults, and lacking an intended moral lesson, is Angela Carter's The Werewolf. Following Zohar Shavit's comparative analyses of the intended audiences of Perrault and the Grimm Brothers, Carter's interpretation lacks the necessary elements of a children story. What do Carter's tone and ending say about the audience to whom she directs her work?

The Werewolf is tonally dark. The sentences are short and concise with dark overtones. When highlighting the setting, Carter notes that "it is a northern country; they have cold weather, they have cold hearts" (1). The weather in this story is "winter and cold" (1). When reading this work one almost feels as if they are reading some Noir text. The narration is dark, cold, and concise. These tonal characteristics distinguish Carter's work from the naivete of the Grimm Brother's dual audience, and the ironic nature of Perrault's dual audience. Whereas the Grimm Brothers and Perrault sought to create works for children and literary elites, Carter seems to present literature that wholly overlooks the innocent, naive nature of children.

Carter, while distancing her work from both Grimm and Perrault in terms of tone, she does share a commonality of audience with Perrault. Shavit acknowledges that in Perrault's time there was no set distinction between child and adult; Shavit reminds the reader that "the notion that adults are duty-bound to guide their children and that they are responsible for the latter did not yet exist in Perrault's time" (332). Carter directs her work at adults, which, in Perrault's time, all peoples, children and adults alike, would be considered.

Concerning the ending, Carter finds more similarity with the Grimm Brother's morally upright telling of LRRH than Perrault's. Although Carter does not have a lesson-enriched happy ending, she does allow for Red to survive and to, after killing her witch-grandmother, "liv[e] in her grandmother's house ... [where] she prospered" (2). Carter, by combining the characters of the Wolf and the Grandmother, creates a story wherein Red must confront her own grandmother; if she falters in doing this, she will certainly die. Red, after overcoming and, indirectly, killing her grandmother, she prospers, but she is never described as happy. Perrault, in a similar fashion, ends his tale with the death of both Red and the Grandmother. Perhaps it is safe to say that when the Grandmother is killed in Carter's story, a piece of Red dies with her? Would any adult in Perrault's time consider reading a story to their children about a young girl killing her own grandmother? That is hard to say. One major difference between these two stories' endings, however, is the role of innocence. In Perrault's tale, Red dies because she is an innocent child; Carter's Red, whose mother, after giving her a knife, reminds her that she "knows how to use it" (1), is able to fight off the Wolf because she is not innocent.

Both of these stories serve as a drastic contrast to the Grimm Brothers', wherein Red and the grandmother both escape the Wolf's stomach after being consumed. Unlike the previously mentioned stories, the Grimm Brothers' allow for Red to survive; her survival guarantees a moral lesson for the children hearing the story.

Through Shovit's observations concerning tone and story endings, one can easily assert, through comparison with Perrault's and the Grimm Brothers' LRRH tales, that Angela Carter's The Werewolf is intended for an audience of Shovit's "literary elite."

The Desired Woman

The Desired Woman

Throughout the assigned readings, including both fairy tales and proto-fairy tales, the role of the woman has been somewhat consistent. The female, regardless of her status, whether  strictly human or supernatural, has been a participant in a hunt. This usage of hunt is not specific to the questing for animals with intention to kill, but is instead more closely linked to the more sexually charged, medieval understanding of the hunt; lustful desire fuels these stories. These desires are found through a man's relentless, sexually-driven pursuit of a woman, as is seen in The Song of Wandering Aengus and Philomela's travail in Metamorphoses, or the woman's relentless pursuit of some form of companionship, as one reads in Ardour and Lanval.

Tereus's assault on Philomela

The woman as prey is best seen in Ovid's Metamorphoses through the plight and destruction of Philomela. Consider the actions that Tereus takes against her as a predator against its prey. His instinctual desires, mirroring that of a hungering beast, drives him to violate his sister-in-law and, as a means of protecting himself and silencing her, cut out her tongue. These brutal acts of sexual aggression and violent abuse allow for a clear mirroring of the bestial desires of man as predator. Some millennia later, William Butler Yeats, in his short tale The Song of Wandering Aengus, further solidifies Ovid's earlier observations; man is a thorough predator. This story, although lacking in the grotesque and vengeful, proves the narrator to be driven only by his desires: hunger and lust. The narrator in this story describes his desire for sustenance by noting that he had a fire "in [his] head" (3). As he catches his meal, which is, unbeknownst to him, a fay of some sort, he prepares his cooking-fire, only to be distracted by the beautiful young woman the fish has become. His hunger is immediately forgotten as he is overcome with passion; his new desire is only for his new prey. His questing is in vain, yet he continues in pursuit of his goal. This hunter, now old and graying, ever strong in his desires notes that "though I am old with wandering / Through hollow lands and hilly lands, / I will find out where she has gone, / And kiss her lips and take her hands" (16-20). Much like Tereus's lustful desires and subsequent quest for satisfaction in Philomela, Yeat's narrator strives towards his achievement in his desired woman.

Whereas Philomela and Yeat's fish-fay find themselves being hunted, Lanval's fairy-maiden and Ardour find themselves striving, or hunting, for their own desired companionship. In Marie de France's Lanval, the knight of the same name is considered just and worthy of honor, yet he receives none. This forced humility may be the source of the fay-maiden's favor and love, but there is not much specific evidence for or against that conjecture. What can be observed, however, is that this maiden seeks companionship; she seeks out, or hunts for, Lanval, as is read when her servants state "'Lord Lanval, the lady we owe duty--  / A lady of valor, wisdom, beauty-- / It's for you our lady has sent / Us. Now come along with us, do! (3). This fay-maiden seeks Lanval as her companion; her companionship is something he makes use of often. After Lanval breaks his promise and is near his death-sentencing, this supernatural lover, against her previous claim of absolute abandonment, seeks out and saves Lanval from King Arthur's sword of justice. Her desire is for Lanval, whom she pursues relentlessly. Ultimately, this pursuit leads Lanval to the fay-maiden's realm: Avalon.

Much like the fay's hunt for Lanval, Ardour, the protagonist of Jonathon Keat's Ardour, seeks out an unknown companionship. Ardour, as the personification and physical embodiment of Winter, seeks, year after year, only one goal: love. She is wholly unsure of what this word means and how she can find fulfillment, but understands that, 

it had begun as something she'd seen, who knew when, deep in the woods where she'd lived for all eternity: A girl like her--breasts as steep as snow peaks beneath a blizzard of hair--came hand-in-hand with a man into an open meadow, where they embraced, and, it seemed, drew into a single skin. Then there were his words, her tears. A rupture, a quiver. They cradled, as if each were the other's wound. (9)

Year after year, Ardour finds herself unable to fulfill her desires. That is, until she discovers and finds warmth in the touch and love of her prey, the local prince. Through him, her prey, she has found satisfaction and fulfillment; her hunt is over. Her desires, much like those of the fay-maiden, have been sated. 

Snegurochka: the basis for Keats's Ardour

Through the fairy and folk tales, women find themselves ensnared within the complex web of predatory struggle. Some women, earthly in origin, flee the pursuit of their predators; other, however, usually being supernatural in origin, choose, instead, to prey upon their potential companions. The prey of women, however, do not find themselves to be mutilated or destroyed. Are men truly more bestial?