Princesses- Intro to Children's Lit final paper

A few semesters ago I took an introduction to children's literature class. For our final project, we could choose to do anything, and I chose to write a paper about princesses. It's a personal essay mostly about my reaction to and struggles against the typical princess ideals and expectations that still plague our society. I'm not sure what draft this is, but I can't seem to find the final draft... it should be pretty close to the final though, with some minor changes.

Fairy Tales and Feminity

I enrolled in "Intro to Children's Literature" expecting to learn about the charms and diversity of children's literature, and indeed I have. More importantly however, our discussions have caused me to look at myself and question my perspective. I must shamefully admit that I had never consciously recognized that good children's literature was much more than a means of entertainment. I saw that stories could teach lessons and perhaps serve as a tool to expand the imagination, but it never occurred to me to look any deeper. Needless to say, through the course of this class I have made a literary about-face.
As a child I had a passion for books- princess stories and fairy tales in particular. It has now been revived, but mixed with the pure reminiscent pleasure for the 'good old days' of childhood are new questions about the meaning and implications of what I thought were pure and innocent stories of true love and perseverence. I wish to explore how my interaction with fairy tales combined with our course material allow new insights about princesses and femininity in our modern world.
A brief glimpse of me as a child: I was almost always happy and hardly ever cried, even as a baby. I was a 'typical little girl' in that I adored the color pink, dressed up in sparkly gowns, played dolls and house, and constantly watched classic Disney princess movies. I was mostly a model sibling to my four-years-younger sister Jenny with the typical sibling rivalry and fighting. My mom took a break from her nursing career to raise us, and we spent many hours reading books, playing outside, and imagining wonderful adventures. I continued to do 'girly' things as well as excel in every subject in school.
Well, there's my childhood. Of course it wasn't all wonderful- I got into my fair share of mischief, but I constantly tried to please my parents and be a 'good girl'. Although I recognized I was a girl, it never occurred to me that I couldn't be feminine and strong. As a child I had a relatively untainted view and never felt the pressure to 'act like a girl' because it never dawned on me that excelling in math and science might be perceived as an 'un-girlish' trait. I had confidence in myself and knew that I could do anything with my life.
I am reminded of Cinderella, the old Cinderella who goes out and does everything she can to get where she wants to go. Yolen points out that "Cinderella makes intelligent decisions, for she knows that wishing solves nothing without the concomitant action... To make Cinderella less than she is, an ill-treated but passive princess awaiting her rescue, cheapens our most cherished dreams and makes mockery of the magic inside us all- the ability to change our own lives, the ability to control our own destinies." Rather than get carried away in passionate rant of everything that's wrong with this picture of modern-day Cinderella, right now I'd like to point out that magic which lies within each of us.
Why is this concept- 'the ability to control our own destinies'- a dream for some, while it's a reality for others? I postulate that one of the reasons some people are successful (meaning in this case, live full and enriching lives where they recognize that they have control and use it for good) while some others fail is because of their experiences in childhood. For example, I come from three or four generations of teachers and I was always taught to get the best education available. If I put my mind to it, I could do anything. For me, the reason I'm in college now is because those values were instilled in me from a young age.
What then is to become of children who aren't taught this critical concept? I will venture to say that one of the best ways to reach them is through children's literature. Bettleheim points out that "When children are young, it is literature that carries such information best." It is then crucial that this literature isn't just entertaining, but that it opens up worlds where the reader can struggle to find their own answers. Of course I'm echoing Bettleheim again when he says "The fairy tale is therapeutic because the patient finds his own solutions, through contemplating what the story seems to imply about him and his inner conflicts at this moment in his life." Although he was only talking about a very specific genre of literature- fairy tales- this concept should hold true for any good story. If children are taught to wrestle with a story until they find a personal answer, I would imagine that it would be more likely for them to live more fulfilling lives as adults because of those skills of problem-solving taught at an early age.
But what if the literature they read doesn't allow room for interpretation? What if the characters are flat stereotypes that fail to grow or learn? What if entertainment is the only purpose of a story? Here is where I begin my exploration of 'fairy tale princesses' in the modern world.
In deciding to write about this issue, I've struggled to find a balance. For example, I see that Disney's 'Cinderella' isn't all bad. Ultimately it speaks to the underdog and teaches that your dreams can come true no matter how distant or unreachable they seem. By showing that Cinderella- a meek, mild, loving, virtuous girl- achieves happiness in the form of true love while her stepsisters- cruel, proud, and selfish- get nothing, it teaches that even when life is tough, it's best to keep on being a good person because it will pay off in the end. Now that is a beautiful message and I recognize its importance. At the same time though, I see a gaping hole.
To understand how Cinderella has changed, I need to examine how it began. "In the oldest of the Cinderella variants, the heroine is hardly catatonic." -Yolen. Cinderella was once about a strong woman who solved her own problems through hard work and intellect, but now when someone says 'Cinderella' most of us jump to Disney's prettified version. She is grotesquely warped; diminished to a passive airhead; virtuous perhaps, but stereotypical with no character or personality unique to her. She is 'polarized' (to use Bettleheim's words) and that's how a child's mind functions. One is either pretty or ugly, nice or mean, good or evil. But isn't it this duality within each of us that makes us interesting? Causes the struggle which allows us to choose who we are? "Good and evil are omnipresent in life and the propensities for both are present in every man. It is this duality which poses the moral problem, and requires the struggle to solve it." - Bettleheim. What then, is the point of a fairy tale if it doesn't address these issues? He continues "The fairy tale... confronts the child squarely with the basic human predicaments." From this I conclude that our modern notion of the story of Cinderella is not actually a fairy tale. Yes there may be 'magic'; however, the magic of pumpkins and mice turning into carriages and horses is pathetic in comparison to the magic inside each of us to create our own lives. That magic has been ignored, stifled, smothered.
In the stories we've read in class, the main character has been someone to whom everyone can relate. Like John de Conquer, the protagonist is usually a regular person with curiosity and passion. Although Cinderella is masked as 'ordinary' in her smudged face and dirty servant's clothes, the person behind that mask is no regular Jill from the nursery rhyme. In every version we have read or seen, Cinderella possesses beauty and virtue to no end. In the Grimm's version however, although she does not personally punish her sisters, she does not protect them as the birds peck out their eyes. In "Snow White," Snow stands aside as her wicked stepmother dances in red-hot iron shoes until she is dead. These stories at least begin to acknowledge that even the most virtuous have darkness within them.
For me at least, this duality within someone is one of the most crucial traits of a character that attracts me to them. It allows me to relate to them because I also recognize the good and evil within myself.
Now. Cinderella is so polarized, so stereotypical, that there isn't a shred of darkness within her. She cannot grow or learn because she is all good. Plus, she's a size three with huge breasts and an hourglass figure. What REAL little girl can relate to her? Before now in this paper, I've tried to take an analyst's perspective- cool, calm, observant- but now I'm afraid I can't contain myself any longer without exploding. Cinderella is FAKE. What kind of a role model is she? Millions of women- smart adults- try to be that idealized woman, but only in body because the media tells us that the women are only acceptable when they're thin and pretty. They are sexual objects of lust, and should not think for themselves or question their role. Cinderella goes beyond that. It says that women are acceptable when they are thin and pretty, and when you are thin and pretty, you are good. When you are good, you are submissive. When you are all these things, you get your 'happily ever after.' No problems or struggles; everything just falls into your lap. I have a hard time even referring to Cinderella as a person. I like this quote and it proves my point, so I'm going to switch to talking about Snow White, but in a sense Snow White and Cinderella are the same person. They're the epitome of virtue and beauty, both confined to housework awaiting a daring rescue by their handsome prince charming. HERE is the problem. "(The girls) aspired to become that object of every necrophiliac's lust- the innocent, victimized Sleeping Beauty, beauteous lump of ultimate, sleeping good. Despite ourselves, sometimes unknowing, sometimes knowing, unwilling, or unable to do otherwise, we act out the roles we were taught." -Dworkin. These are the role models that little girls are taught to idolize.
I've never heard a mother scold her daughter and ask "What would Cinderella do?" It would seem absolutely ridiculous. BUT by constantly allowing this negative media to bombard her without discussing the problems, isn't it essentially the same thing?
Thusfar I have taken the liberty of making some rather harsh accusations. Lest the reader fling this paper across the room in a fit of frustration (as I have often done in writing it,) allow me first to present another option.
In my quest to find evidence of a movement for change, I ventured to the UMFA and perused their special Cinderella exhibit. The artwork was interesting, but the books are what caught me. There were published versions of Cinderella of several cultures: Polish, Zuni, Middle Eastern, Irish, Native American, Caribbean, and American South. Cinderella is a cross-coltural phenomenon. Every one of them had a different take on that famous story.
In one book "A Wolf At The Door" (retold fairytales), I noticed the short story "Cinder Elephant" by Jane Yolen (!) and read it. It was basically the same, but there was a huge focus on the skinny stepsisters with their thin smiles, and although it was very funny at times, the overall mood was vitriolic and bitter. Yolen pokes sarcastic fun at classic Cinderella by turning every aspect of the story inside out. When the Prince goes to find her, the stepsisters "put super glue on their insteps and duct tape on their ankles" so they can fit into her size 9 1/2 grass (yes, grass) slippers. On top of that, he recognizes her face when the birds steal the slipper to make a nest out of it. This story clearly reflects what Jane Yolen said herself, that "I hated the Disney Cinderella with a passion." To me though, that's too much of an extreme. Where could I find a reasonable Cinderella?
In another book "Cinder Edna," Cinderella and Cinder Edna live next door. Cinderella is basically the Disney Cinderella while Cinder Edna is pretty average. The contrast between the two is made apparent when Edna takes the bus to the ball rather than sit around crying waiting for a rescue. Edna bumps into the prince and is quickly more attracted to the prince's little brother. As the clock strikes 12, Cinderella must come home before the magic wears off. Edna must come home because in their city, public transportation stops after midnight. In a flurry, they each leave a shoe- one glass slipper, one loafer. When the princes find their loves gone, the following conversation ensues:
"Well, didn't you get her name?" asked Rupert impatiently. "The one I love is named Edna."
"Gee, I forgot to ask," said Randolph, scratching his head.
While Randolph goes around the whole kingdom trying to find the foot that fits the shoe, Rupert looks up all the Ednas in the dictionary and asks them to name 19 different recipes for tuna casserole. In the end, both princes find their love. While Cinderella "went to endless ceremonies and listened to dozens of speeches by his Highness the Grand Archduke of Lethargia," Edna "ended up in a small cottage with solar heating... (and with her husband) laughed and joked, tried new recipes together, and played duets on accordion and concertina." The book ends with a picture of Edna and Rupert roaring with laughter and the words "Guess who lived happily ever after."
While this story appeals to me as an adult, of course the pink Disney Cinderella is much more appealing to a starry-eyed six-year-old. I then read "Ella's Big Chance" about a Cinderella during the jazz age. She is the perfect medium between the two Cinderella extremes. While she is not thin and drop dead gorgeous, she is not an ugly 'elephant' that looks like a hen. She gets discouraged but keeps going! She struggles to solve her own problems, and although the Duke falls madly in love with her, in the end she chooses her best friend, the package-delivery boy.
All of these books provide concrete evidence that there are other people who see the need for change. They seem to cry to me that no, Cinderella doesn't have to be boxed into a corner of stereotypical dullness. There is hope! As in time before stories were written down, Cinderella as a person and a story can and will change. She can grow! We as readers gain insight through fairy tales like this. Bettleheim said "As with all great art, the fairy tale's deepest meaning will be different for each person, and different for the same person at various moments in his life." I think that also coincides with the life of a fairy tale as it changes to fit the values of a certain age.
As our culture changes, the stories follow. "Fairy tales are the primary information of the culture. They delineate the roles, interactions, and values which are available to us. They are our childhood models." -Dworkin. I propose that in order to keep up with current culture, fairy tales are not limited to regurgitated versions of Snow White or Little Red Riding Hood. I can just hear the sigh of my old AP English teacher if she read what I'm about to say, but perhaps you, dear reader, may allow me to indulge myself for a moment? "Harry Potter" comes to mind as our modern-day fairy tale. Although we didn't talk about it in class, I feel that it applies well to my paper and train of thought.
Since book one, "Harry"'s popularity has skyrocketed. Children all around the world know the story. I love it, but I never understood why it became so incredibly huge. J.K. Rowling's writing style delights, but there are other authors whose stories are equally charming, yet haven't a fraction of the popularity of the Potter books.
Now I can't speak for the rest of society, but I can speak for myself. "Harry Potter" keeps me entertained with the idea of a school for learning magic being an alternate sort of reality within our real world. BUT that is not why it enchants me. "Harry Potter" captivates me in its spell because, like a fairy tale of old, Harry is a real person rather than a flat stereotype. By embarking on that grand adventure to finally face Lord Voldemort, Harry discovers who he is. He confronts the evil within himself, struggles, and triumphs in choosing his own destiny. I can relate to him much more than I can to Disney's Cinderella because unlike that pathetic excuse of a 'fairy tale,' "Harry Potter" addresses the magic within each of us to create our own paths. I touched on this point earlier in the paper, and feel it necessary to come back to it because its significance is crucial, whoever acts out that role.
I don't mean to be repetitive, but I do want to emphasize my point. Even though there are no such things as blast-ended skrewts or whomping willows, "Harry" is about real life. It's about his growth, his own coming-of-age tale. Like Maurice Sendak, J.K. Rowling acknowledges the reality of darkness, pain, and suffering. At the same time, she infects the reader with a contagious dose of hope. The theme? Even in our imperfections, our struggles make us who we are. We can choose victory because we can choose our own paths. "A struggle against severe difficulties in life is unavoidable, is an intrinsic part of human existence- but... if one does not shy away, but steadfastly meets unexpected and often unjust hardships, one masters all obstacles and at the end emerges victorious." -Bettleheim This is hope indeed.
Finally before leaving Harry, I feel it necessary to point out the roles of women in these books. Professor McGonogall is one of the most powerful professors at the school. Hermione beats Harry and Ron in every academic subject. Mrs. Weasley takes out Bellatrix Lestrange, the powerful right-hand murderess of the most evil wizard of all time. These women are portrayed as strong and confident while at the same time attractive and feminine. While the story focuses on Harry, a boy, in a way it's a lot like Cinderella in that he was born into privilege, his parents died, he's forced to live with wretched relatives, then finally he rises to glory. Unlike Cinderella though, he does his own saving.
I have so much more to say than time or room in this paper will allow. I feel as though I could write an entire book on this subject. I methodically planned my paper, pretty much knowing exactly what I wanted to talk about. As I continued writing however, I discovered some things that I hadn't noticed before. Rather than changing my opinion, this class has lead me to questions that may not have answers. The truth is that I don't know the exact interplay of fairytales and femininity in the modern world. I have undergone a shift in perspective, both concerning children's literature and myself. Although I still don't have all the answers, it's my struggle to find them that has lead to the thoughts and insights expressed in this paper. Before, I enjoyed fairy tales and left it at that. During the class and sometimes in this writing, I sought the meaning of fairy tales in relation to the rest of society. I analyzed how these stories may affect children in general. Now I'm in the process of discovering what they mean to me. Rather than searching for answers in and about the outside world, I now turn inward. A fairy tale is as much meant for me to dissect and enjoy as it is for a child being lulled to sleep by their mother's soft voice telling of fantastic adventures in lands far away. By unearthing some of the depth of children's literature that I never before saw, part of me has indeed changed, reawakened if you will. Perhaps I've inhaled pixie dust, but I think that maybe I'm on the verge of creating my own "Once Upon A Time." The best part? I get to choose.