The most common thread in fairy tales is the deception. The Beautiful Queen that has a heart as ugly as sin. The Ugly and common serving girl who has a heart so kind and pure that it can be seen through her exterior.
It's the evil step mother in Snow White and the common scullery maid in Cinderella. Beauty and the Beast would probably be the first parallel to leap to most people's minds. For me the tales that leap to mind most are a little more obscure. The girl with the silver hands is a fairy tale that i hold very dearly to my heart. It's not only about deception but also about holding on no matter what.
A woodsman is out chopping wood... as they do (all woodchuck jokes aside) when a troll appears and says if you don't chop this one tree i will trade you your home full of gold and jewels for whatever is in your backyard. It's no contest. The woodsman has a cherry tree out behind his house and that is all, so he thinks. He makes the deal quickly and gladly. Returning home his house is indeed filled with gold and jewels, busting out of drawer and flowing out of closets. He tells his wife what happened and what he bargained away for the new riches. She begins to panic. Their daughter had been out behind the house then, sweeping the back step. The girl is resourceful, she doesn't run away but takes a piece of chalk and draws a pure white circle around herself that the wizard may not cross. Wizard? What? The wizard had only appeared to be a troll to seem more trust worthy. Taking you a moment to consider a person who appears more trust worthy as a troll... You know, that creepy junkie you picture down a dark alley who would kill you to sell your organs and has no love of personal hygiene... that would be the troll. The wizard orders her father to leave her without water so the chalk line she draws will be dirty. She weeps over her hands and wipes them clean with her hair. Nice little allegory there to the woman washing Jesus' feet with her tears and her hair. The wizard returns and the chalk line is clean, he may not cross. He the orders the father to chop off her hands so that the chalk line will be bloody... this would probably be why this is one of the less known fairy tales.. her father does it.
Woah, wait... he what? Her father chops off her hands because the evil wizard who gave him money said so. Imagine Disney trying to deal with that concept the way they nicely sidestepped a prince wandering through the world blinded by thorns healed by Rapunzel's tears splashing into them, or Pinocchio squishing Jimmie Cricket in the first few pages of the original tale. She cries all night long (we're going to act surprised now), and when the morning comes her stumps, exposed bone and the chalk line are all shiny and clean. The wizard pretends he's beat and walks away. The girl leaves home, either because she doesn't like her new nickname of "stumpie" or maybe it was something her parents did... She wanders through the world hoping to find a place she'll be respected for her mind. A helpful fairy appears and guides her to an orchard where she can eat the fruit right off the tree, no hands required. But, the orchard belongs to a King who doesn't much like the local wildlife picking off his pears. He assumes it's a deer and lays in wait to make venison jerky of it when he sees the girl and the fairy. He is taken by her beauty and moved by her story and marries her, having the best silversmith in all the land fashion her a pair of prosthetic hands. It would be lovely if i could say the story ended there, that they lived happily ever after... this just isn't one of those fairy tales.
Either there was some kind of recession going on or, this young lady has the worst luck since Job. The king has a wizard on staff and having no hands our heroine can't quite put her finger on it but he seems familiar. Most of the evil wizard protagonists have their own castle, rotting and in disrepair but castle none the less, this wizard needed a day job?
So in place of the happily ever after we are going into Rumpelstiltskin territory, she gets pregnant and the wizard still wants to make her pay. He sends the King off to war ala the crusades and starts playing telephone with their letters, shifting them this way and that so the no one knows what his right hand is doing. When the babies are born the King's mother sends a message of his son's birth, the father gets a message from the queen mother saying that his son is born an abomination. The father sends back that he will love him anyway but it's changed mid delivery to kill him by the wizard. Back and forth go the messages until the King's mother is convinced her son has lost his ever loving mind and tells the girl to take her kid and run. She does and finds herself in an enchanted bed and breakfast making the beds to pay for room and board. When the down comforters are fluffed it snows... and so forth. The King returns, learns what has happened, figures it out, has the wizard disemboweled and sets out in search of his wife and son. For 14 years he searches, 7 years symbolizing forever the 14 might be a bit of overkill. He wanders half dead into the enchanted bed and breakfast to rest and sees the bed maker but doesn't believe it is his wife, one or two characteristics were different about her; she'd put on a little weight, we all know what nursing does to your breasts, something different with her hair and this woman had hands. Drunk and tired one evening the King blubbers out the whole story to the bed maker who gets up an leaves him only to return with a case in her hands containing the silver hands the King had commissioned for her. He's overjoyed, she's overjoyed, the kid is happy to finally have a daddy and the mouse considers the rights to the screenplay.
Long story, but if you can get your hands on it... sorry... you might really enjoy it. Back to my cover though.
We have set up in our heads how people are supposed to react, archetypes for personality and behavior based on fairy tales, sitcoms and other stories we tell each other. Father's and Mother's are supposed to love and support their children, even hacksaw aside the girl's parents don't act as we feel they should. The thing we lose over and over again in these archetypes is that the person you are interacting with isn't. They're people, faulty, suspicious, cruel, arrogant, lost people. I've heard a lot the past year about how people are supposed to act because of their job, their volunteer work, their hobby, their religion, but none of these things in and of themselves are very good indicators of what lies beneath the surface. People i particularly trusted lied to me and to others, which of course got back to me. I lost the ability to walk more than a few feet without pain and people thought i was drunk or high, but instead of asking me, they assumed. I mowed the lawn for 3 months while i was simultaneously on crutches, no one cared until they wanted me to be leave the entire post behind, but of course they asked me to stop out of the goodness of their heart and genuine concern for me and my well being right? The previous 3 months they didn't care about my well being? We all wear masks, the difference is the friend being more patient than they feel for the sake of their friend's well being and the evil wizard who has to look like a troll to be trusted. Do you ask? or do you assume? I've had problems with my legs for 10 years now, chronic severe bilateral Achilles tendinitis, straphitis and bursitis. If you can picture having carpel tunnel from behind your knees down... the medicines i take make me sleepy and dizzy. The best medication of all is resting them, getting up rarely and not going far. But, and this is important, i am NOT Job. No wall has crushed my family, i am not homeless, i don't have leprosy and i am not beaten. It's so much easier to blame God, or to blame archetypes for not acting as they should. I'd rather hold those who lie and assume rather than ask personally responsible for their actions, not in relation to their archetypes but in relation to basic human decency.
Like picking up a book of fairy tales, some are short, sweet and resolve without much stress into a happily ever after. If true happiness, unparalleled happiness means waiting twice as long as forever i guess i better start saving up to move Australia and hurry forever along.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Friday, November 26, 2010
No, not that Rabbit... the other one.
Most of the Faerie tales i've looked at in depth recently have been quite the conventional sort. This definitely is one of my favorites though it is hardly thought of when one lists conventional faerie tales. The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams was published fairy recently in 1922 and yet for me resides in a place among the best loved of all time.
For those unfamiliar i will recap. The Velveteen Rabbit is a Christmas gift for a young boy and seems in the first few pages to be more of a decoration of the family Christmas tableau than truly a gift for a small boy. In fact while the boy thinks it's cute for a few hours the minute the unwrapping of the real toys start it is forgotten and remains that way for quite some time. The rabbit is fine with this though it is made clear that this is the result of not knowing any better way of existence than to be in the nursery closet. All the other toys pretend they are great and the way they assure themselves of their greatness is by making the Rabbit feel increasingly insignificant and unwanted. Much like children often... no i cannot pretend this practice is only done in childhood circles. We all know of people of varying ages who draw their idea of their own value and self worth from the way they put down others. The Rabbit does have one good and true friend in the nursery, an old horse who is wise from years of experiences and always tells the truth as he knows it even when it is not what the Rabbit wants to hear. It is from the horse he first hears about "real" and the process of becoming real. "'When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with but REALLY loves you, then you become REAL.' 'Does it hurt?' asked the Rabbit. 'Sometimes' said the Skin Horse..." Soon after the boy can't find his favorite toy to sleep with so his Nana picks up the Rabbit and hands it to him to sleep with instead and the boy becomes used to sleeping with the Rabbit in his arms... and eventually the Rabbit becomes used to it as well.All that spring and summer the boy takes his Rabbit outside to play with him and they have great adventures. late in the summer a real rabbit comes upon our Rabbit goes up to him and sniffs him and says to the other rabbits that No, he isn't real. This greatly upsets our Rabbit and he is quite unsettled by the rejection until the boy comes back and takes him inside.
The boy becomes deathly ill with scarlet fever and all the while through holds on to the Rabbit. He recovers and while planning to take the Rabbit with him to the seaside with his family he is told that all of his things must be burned to prevent him from being reinfected... especially his Rabbit. While waiting for the fire in a sack with other toys and books and linens a fairy appears and as a reward for being such a good toy she turns him into a real Rabbit.
Okay now that we are caught up... We all have something we want. Something we will do practically anything to obtain. In fact i do venture that while what we want differs wildly from person to person it does stem back to these two desires. To be loved...and to be real. I'm not quite intending that to come off like an '80's hook. When i say "to be real" i mean that we all have something we are striving for that will make us feel validated in a way that we cannot validate ourselves. That lovely Id sitting in our brain demanding us to obtain things that make us give up the dopamine. The Id wants us to feel all good all the time. It's what weaves for us our richest tapestry of desires. The object of our deepest longing in the center of it all surrounding that a picture of us as the paragon of all that we feel society would desire us to be.
For me the most touching part of this story is the early conversation between the Rabbit and the Horse. If someone loves you... Really loves you... for a very long time... not just to play with... It can be easy to feel like a plaything. Especially when people, not hint but SAY you are exactly that to them. and the upset and the anger and the hurt at hearing this lines up quite well with the rabbit in the field who goes up to our Rabbit sniffs him then yells to his friends that no, this is NOT a real rabbit. To have someone tell you to your face that you aren't real can't help but make you feel anything other than indignant and possibly invalid. It is perfectly reasonable to want validation and perfectly reasonable to expect and try to get all of the validation you need internally. In fact it is most likely the best and most consistent way to receive it. but for me, and i don't think i am alone in this, external invalidation calls up a craving for external validation. And just like a naturally occurring time worm hole would need an equally reciprocating time worm hole butted up against it to give it the smallest amount of stability to continue to exist so sometimes our belief in itself on hearing harsh marginalizing descriptions of itself can crack and disappear without equally reciprocating praise.
What does it feel like to be real? "Does it hurt?" asks the Rabbit. "Sometimes." As i've said earlier... no, love IS NOT pain. Regardless of what my favorite movie has to say on the topic, the love itself is not pain. It's all the other things we put ourselves through around the love. Those doubts that we don't deserve it, that they don't deserve the reciprocation that either party will remain fidelitous to the other, that they aren't using you, that you aren't just using them, that ... the list goes on and on and i've already explained how i feel about this. There isn't much to the human existence if you break it down into blocks of like, dislike and "that's weird". The happy and joyful things lift us up and satisfy that demanding Id... the non-happy crash us down and we cry, we plan, we hope, we try to fix it... and we fantasize, in an attempt to satisfy the Id our brain brings us lovely and tormenting images of perfect happy moments that will never exist. To me this harms the happy moments that do exist because even the best moments rarely surpass our dreamed perfections. One day i had a dream come true moment... I held on to something that was harmful because it was my dream... I couldn't see the harmful side over the screaming of joy in my head. It took 6 months for me to understand just how dangerous my dream come true really was. My dream couldn't and wouldn't harm me, but the real person absolutely could and did.
But what does it truly take to feel valid? In this society of image, telling us how we should look, what we "need" to be happy. How do you look your Id in the eye and tell it to go fly a kite? Is it even healthy to try?
The next spring a quite recovered little boy is playing in the woods behind his house and seems to recognize on of the rabbits that he sees as being his Rabbit. I can't help but enjoy that thought... the thought of being someone's Rabbit.
For those unfamiliar i will recap. The Velveteen Rabbit is a Christmas gift for a young boy and seems in the first few pages to be more of a decoration of the family Christmas tableau than truly a gift for a small boy. In fact while the boy thinks it's cute for a few hours the minute the unwrapping of the real toys start it is forgotten and remains that way for quite some time. The rabbit is fine with this though it is made clear that this is the result of not knowing any better way of existence than to be in the nursery closet. All the other toys pretend they are great and the way they assure themselves of their greatness is by making the Rabbit feel increasingly insignificant and unwanted. Much like children often... no i cannot pretend this practice is only done in childhood circles. We all know of people of varying ages who draw their idea of their own value and self worth from the way they put down others. The Rabbit does have one good and true friend in the nursery, an old horse who is wise from years of experiences and always tells the truth as he knows it even when it is not what the Rabbit wants to hear. It is from the horse he first hears about "real" and the process of becoming real. "'When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with but REALLY loves you, then you become REAL.' 'Does it hurt?' asked the Rabbit. 'Sometimes' said the Skin Horse..." Soon after the boy can't find his favorite toy to sleep with so his Nana picks up the Rabbit and hands it to him to sleep with instead and the boy becomes used to sleeping with the Rabbit in his arms... and eventually the Rabbit becomes used to it as well.All that spring and summer the boy takes his Rabbit outside to play with him and they have great adventures. late in the summer a real rabbit comes upon our Rabbit goes up to him and sniffs him and says to the other rabbits that No, he isn't real. This greatly upsets our Rabbit and he is quite unsettled by the rejection until the boy comes back and takes him inside.
The boy becomes deathly ill with scarlet fever and all the while through holds on to the Rabbit. He recovers and while planning to take the Rabbit with him to the seaside with his family he is told that all of his things must be burned to prevent him from being reinfected... especially his Rabbit. While waiting for the fire in a sack with other toys and books and linens a fairy appears and as a reward for being such a good toy she turns him into a real Rabbit.
Okay now that we are caught up... We all have something we want. Something we will do practically anything to obtain. In fact i do venture that while what we want differs wildly from person to person it does stem back to these two desires. To be loved...and to be real. I'm not quite intending that to come off like an '80's hook. When i say "to be real" i mean that we all have something we are striving for that will make us feel validated in a way that we cannot validate ourselves. That lovely Id sitting in our brain demanding us to obtain things that make us give up the dopamine. The Id wants us to feel all good all the time. It's what weaves for us our richest tapestry of desires. The object of our deepest longing in the center of it all surrounding that a picture of us as the paragon of all that we feel society would desire us to be.
For me the most touching part of this story is the early conversation between the Rabbit and the Horse. If someone loves you... Really loves you... for a very long time... not just to play with... It can be easy to feel like a plaything. Especially when people, not hint but SAY you are exactly that to them. and the upset and the anger and the hurt at hearing this lines up quite well with the rabbit in the field who goes up to our Rabbit sniffs him then yells to his friends that no, this is NOT a real rabbit. To have someone tell you to your face that you aren't real can't help but make you feel anything other than indignant and possibly invalid. It is perfectly reasonable to want validation and perfectly reasonable to expect and try to get all of the validation you need internally. In fact it is most likely the best and most consistent way to receive it. but for me, and i don't think i am alone in this, external invalidation calls up a craving for external validation. And just like a naturally occurring time worm hole would need an equally reciprocating time worm hole butted up against it to give it the smallest amount of stability to continue to exist so sometimes our belief in itself on hearing harsh marginalizing descriptions of itself can crack and disappear without equally reciprocating praise.
What does it feel like to be real? "Does it hurt?" asks the Rabbit. "Sometimes." As i've said earlier... no, love IS NOT pain. Regardless of what my favorite movie has to say on the topic, the love itself is not pain. It's all the other things we put ourselves through around the love. Those doubts that we don't deserve it, that they don't deserve the reciprocation that either party will remain fidelitous to the other, that they aren't using you, that you aren't just using them, that ... the list goes on and on and i've already explained how i feel about this. There isn't much to the human existence if you break it down into blocks of like, dislike and "that's weird". The happy and joyful things lift us up and satisfy that demanding Id... the non-happy crash us down and we cry, we plan, we hope, we try to fix it... and we fantasize, in an attempt to satisfy the Id our brain brings us lovely and tormenting images of perfect happy moments that will never exist. To me this harms the happy moments that do exist because even the best moments rarely surpass our dreamed perfections. One day i had a dream come true moment... I held on to something that was harmful because it was my dream... I couldn't see the harmful side over the screaming of joy in my head. It took 6 months for me to understand just how dangerous my dream come true really was. My dream couldn't and wouldn't harm me, but the real person absolutely could and did.
But what does it truly take to feel valid? In this society of image, telling us how we should look, what we "need" to be happy. How do you look your Id in the eye and tell it to go fly a kite? Is it even healthy to try?
The next spring a quite recovered little boy is playing in the woods behind his house and seems to recognize on of the rabbits that he sees as being his Rabbit. I can't help but enjoy that thought... the thought of being someone's Rabbit.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Prince Charming is a Dork... Bring on the Frogs!
The story of "The Frog Prince" is one that has been grossly changed over time and now bears so little resemblance to the original tale as to be practically laughable. A King had several daughters, the youngest being the fairest of them all but also a most vain and spoiled creature. She has a little golden ball which is her most prized possession not because of who gave it to her but because of the pure a simple joy she experiences from it. The sparkle of the sunlight glinting off of it as it flies through the air, the feel of it warm and smooth as she rolls it in her hands. It is probably the most simple and unspoiled thing about her.
One day while playing with her ball she is careless and doesn't quite catch it. She watches helplessly as it rolls away from her and into a well so deep that the bottom cannot be seen. The Princess does the only reasonable thing she can do, the only thing she has ever done when something didn't go quite her way... She throws a massive temper tantrum. Wailing and Screaming. A voice calls to her "King's daughter, do not cry so! Your tears would melt a heart of stone." She halteringly informs him of her misfortune between stifled sobs. The Frog is moved by her tale and her tears but knows how deep the well is and will not risk life and limb (especially not with frogs' legs being a delicacy) without remuneration.
He looks her up and down and asks, "What will you do for me?" She offers him her gowns, pearls, shoes even the crown upon her head. All of which mean nothing to her and are worthless to him. He gently points out the lack of use he would have for her material possessions. "Well, What do you want?" she pouts at him not understanding that there may be more to life than pretty dresses and golden crowns.
"To be your friend... your playmate... to sit next to you at table, you feeding me from your plate and letting me drink from your cup... and at night... I wish to sleep next to you on your pillow." There it is. Simple. The request that our little mermaid made in her heart but could never express. The desire we all feel for that person we would have as our partner on this earth. The point at which someone's presence is all we crave. When their attentions are all we feel we need. I was engaged once. He and i talked about moving in together until we were married. He was talking on and on about tax codes and neighborhoods and how expensive it was going to be. I told him, I don't care where we live as long as i am with you. I could sleep in a cardboard box and would still be safe and warm cuddled up to your soul. He laughed... I am a creature of impracticality, i know it, and it frequently bites my in the back behind. But in truth i'm not sure how to live without my heart sitting on my sleeve. But there is a deeper meaning to the Frog's request. In most cultures (Americans excluded) people will only eat with those they have a high regard for. To be invited to table shows a mutual respect and a genuine caring for your well being. To be invited to sleep near someone shows a tremendous amount of trust. These things are not instantaneous, they are all things earned over time and with reason... the Frog's task though arduous is not showing much more than a passing concern and says nothing to long term affections one would normally associate with friendship. But he knows that she would never give him the chance to be her friend otherwise, based on his outward appearance.
The Princess hears this request... ick-ing and eww-ing through it's conclusion. Then thinks to herself, "It's a frog. What could he do if i said no later?" So she promises, yes she will do all that he has asked of her; her fingers, no doubt, crossed behind her back. It takes him hours to retrieve the ball but he works hard to do so and finally arriving in sight with it he is thanked and abandoned. The Princess's broken promises lying in the dirt as insulting and hurtful as broken glass.
She thinks it's over, he's gone and her ball is back and it's just over. Then the Frog appears at the court demanding that the Princess makes good on her promises. The King hears about this and asks his daughter if it is true that she promised these things and she admits not only the promise but the deception intended behind it. The King is appalled by his daughter and commands her that, "That which thou hast promised, must thou perform." She grudgingly picks the frog up, in my mind's eye i see this as being done with the tips only of her thumb and forefinger... him being carried at arms length with her eyes unable to meet the thing in her hand. She brings him to the table and squirms away as far as her seat will allow. The Frog says, "Oh Princess! When are you going to feed me from your plate?" Then later the same for a drink from her cup. The Princess objects...complains... The King re-commands her to make good on her promise and she relinquishes under duress. After dinner the Frog reminds the Princess of the next part of her promise to be carried to her bed and set on her pillow next to her while she sleeps. Again the Princess raises protest and the King denies her any freedom from her promise. She picks him up again disdainfully and brings him to her bedroom. Sets him down on the floor and gets into bed, as soon as her head hits the pillow the Frog is back, "I am tired and want to sleep as much as you, pick me up and put me on your pillow or i will go tell your father you are not keeping your promise." She has had enough! The Princess arises, picks up the Frog... and throws him against the wall in an attempt to kill him... Bet you weren't expecting that. But instead what falls to the ground is a handsome Prince. They fall in love instantly, the King consents to their marriage, it's revealed that only the Princess could have broken the spell on the Prince and the Prince's faithful servant, "Henry" magically arrives in the best carriage anyone has ever seen. Henry's heart had been bound with three iron bands to prevent it from breaking when the Prince had become a Frog and now as they ride with the Prince's new bride back to his home kingdom the sounds of the bands breaking one by one on Henry's heart startle and frighten the Prince and Princess who keep thinking the carriage's wheels are having trouble.
I can hear it now.... WHAT? Where is the kiss? There isn't one. We've added the kiss to make this story make sense to us. She tried to kill him in a very similar fashion to the way Pinocchio squishes Jimminey Cricket in the first chapter of the original Carlo Collodi tale. So why does she get rewarded? Why does she get the Prince? On some levels this is a rare tale where the Princess seems to be playing a part in the rescue of a Prince, but umm she squishes him. It's not fair. She is vain, spoiled and doesn't keep her promise at all. So how does she wind up with tall, dark and no longer croaking? Life isn't fair. Remember? You see it everywhere. Good people sometimes get hurt. People doing mean or cruel things sometimes get rewarded.
Maybe this story isn't about her. Is it about the King finally taking a hand with his daughter and insisting she learn her manners? I doubt it, the Princess doesn't listen to him and still gets the Prince. Hell of a morality tale at that point. Is it about the Prince? He's stubborn and demands his own way in a most frustrating and insistent... Remembering that love is patient and does not insist on it's own way i think i'll pass on this story being about the Prince. So who is our protagonist?
The only person named in the whole tale is Henry, the faithful servant whose heart grew three sizes that day... opps wrong story. He is only around at the end i'm hard pressed to say that a character appearing in the last few paragraphs is the protagonist of the story.
So... I don't know. I know that the version we tell now where the princess keeps her promise and kisses the frog as a reward for him saving her from a poisonous spider is a little more straight forward. She learns to keep her promises, to reward kind behavior and is herself rewarded with a partner for life that is compatible to her. But the idea that she squishes him and then... grr...
I missed the point... I knew I was but i couldn't figure out what it was until i talked to one of my friends about it.
This tale isn't about promises, or insistence, or manners. It's about Mercy. The second chance none of us deserves and yet when it appears it makes no sense. We reject the kindness, the grace as an apparition or a trap. It's so easy to miss a blessing we don't feel we deserve. and we almost never feel we deserve it...
One day while playing with her ball she is careless and doesn't quite catch it. She watches helplessly as it rolls away from her and into a well so deep that the bottom cannot be seen. The Princess does the only reasonable thing she can do, the only thing she has ever done when something didn't go quite her way... She throws a massive temper tantrum. Wailing and Screaming. A voice calls to her "King's daughter, do not cry so! Your tears would melt a heart of stone." She halteringly informs him of her misfortune between stifled sobs. The Frog is moved by her tale and her tears but knows how deep the well is and will not risk life and limb (especially not with frogs' legs being a delicacy) without remuneration.
He looks her up and down and asks, "What will you do for me?" She offers him her gowns, pearls, shoes even the crown upon her head. All of which mean nothing to her and are worthless to him. He gently points out the lack of use he would have for her material possessions. "Well, What do you want?" she pouts at him not understanding that there may be more to life than pretty dresses and golden crowns.
"To be your friend... your playmate... to sit next to you at table, you feeding me from your plate and letting me drink from your cup... and at night... I wish to sleep next to you on your pillow." There it is. Simple. The request that our little mermaid made in her heart but could never express. The desire we all feel for that person we would have as our partner on this earth. The point at which someone's presence is all we crave. When their attentions are all we feel we need. I was engaged once. He and i talked about moving in together until we were married. He was talking on and on about tax codes and neighborhoods and how expensive it was going to be. I told him, I don't care where we live as long as i am with you. I could sleep in a cardboard box and would still be safe and warm cuddled up to your soul. He laughed... I am a creature of impracticality, i know it, and it frequently bites my in the back behind. But in truth i'm not sure how to live without my heart sitting on my sleeve. But there is a deeper meaning to the Frog's request. In most cultures (Americans excluded) people will only eat with those they have a high regard for. To be invited to table shows a mutual respect and a genuine caring for your well being. To be invited to sleep near someone shows a tremendous amount of trust. These things are not instantaneous, they are all things earned over time and with reason... the Frog's task though arduous is not showing much more than a passing concern and says nothing to long term affections one would normally associate with friendship. But he knows that she would never give him the chance to be her friend otherwise, based on his outward appearance.
The Princess hears this request... ick-ing and eww-ing through it's conclusion. Then thinks to herself, "It's a frog. What could he do if i said no later?" So she promises, yes she will do all that he has asked of her; her fingers, no doubt, crossed behind her back. It takes him hours to retrieve the ball but he works hard to do so and finally arriving in sight with it he is thanked and abandoned. The Princess's broken promises lying in the dirt as insulting and hurtful as broken glass.
She thinks it's over, he's gone and her ball is back and it's just over. Then the Frog appears at the court demanding that the Princess makes good on her promises. The King hears about this and asks his daughter if it is true that she promised these things and she admits not only the promise but the deception intended behind it. The King is appalled by his daughter and commands her that, "That which thou hast promised, must thou perform." She grudgingly picks the frog up, in my mind's eye i see this as being done with the tips only of her thumb and forefinger... him being carried at arms length with her eyes unable to meet the thing in her hand. She brings him to the table and squirms away as far as her seat will allow. The Frog says, "Oh Princess! When are you going to feed me from your plate?" Then later the same for a drink from her cup. The Princess objects...complains... The King re-commands her to make good on her promise and she relinquishes under duress. After dinner the Frog reminds the Princess of the next part of her promise to be carried to her bed and set on her pillow next to her while she sleeps. Again the Princess raises protest and the King denies her any freedom from her promise. She picks him up again disdainfully and brings him to her bedroom. Sets him down on the floor and gets into bed, as soon as her head hits the pillow the Frog is back, "I am tired and want to sleep as much as you, pick me up and put me on your pillow or i will go tell your father you are not keeping your promise." She has had enough! The Princess arises, picks up the Frog... and throws him against the wall in an attempt to kill him... Bet you weren't expecting that. But instead what falls to the ground is a handsome Prince. They fall in love instantly, the King consents to their marriage, it's revealed that only the Princess could have broken the spell on the Prince and the Prince's faithful servant, "Henry" magically arrives in the best carriage anyone has ever seen. Henry's heart had been bound with three iron bands to prevent it from breaking when the Prince had become a Frog and now as they ride with the Prince's new bride back to his home kingdom the sounds of the bands breaking one by one on Henry's heart startle and frighten the Prince and Princess who keep thinking the carriage's wheels are having trouble.
I can hear it now.... WHAT? Where is the kiss? There isn't one. We've added the kiss to make this story make sense to us. She tried to kill him in a very similar fashion to the way Pinocchio squishes Jimminey Cricket in the first chapter of the original Carlo Collodi tale. So why does she get rewarded? Why does she get the Prince? On some levels this is a rare tale where the Princess seems to be playing a part in the rescue of a Prince, but umm she squishes him. It's not fair. She is vain, spoiled and doesn't keep her promise at all. So how does she wind up with tall, dark and no longer croaking? Life isn't fair. Remember? You see it everywhere. Good people sometimes get hurt. People doing mean or cruel things sometimes get rewarded.
Maybe this story isn't about her. Is it about the King finally taking a hand with his daughter and insisting she learn her manners? I doubt it, the Princess doesn't listen to him and still gets the Prince. Hell of a morality tale at that point. Is it about the Prince? He's stubborn and demands his own way in a most frustrating and insistent... Remembering that love is patient and does not insist on it's own way i think i'll pass on this story being about the Prince. So who is our protagonist?
The only person named in the whole tale is Henry, the faithful servant whose heart grew three sizes that day... opps wrong story. He is only around at the end i'm hard pressed to say that a character appearing in the last few paragraphs is the protagonist of the story.
So... I don't know. I know that the version we tell now where the princess keeps her promise and kisses the frog as a reward for him saving her from a poisonous spider is a little more straight forward. She learns to keep her promises, to reward kind behavior and is herself rewarded with a partner for life that is compatible to her. But the idea that she squishes him and then... grr...
I missed the point... I knew I was but i couldn't figure out what it was until i talked to one of my friends about it.
This tale isn't about promises, or insistence, or manners. It's about Mercy. The second chance none of us deserves and yet when it appears it makes no sense. We reject the kindness, the grace as an apparition or a trap. It's so easy to miss a blessing we don't feel we deserve. and we almost never feel we deserve it...
Friday, October 22, 2010
The Little Mermaid
No. Not the red-headed Ariel who just wanted to be part of our world. Not the one you're thinking of anyway. I'm referring to the Hans Christian Anderson, Little Mermaid. She swam to the surface world and fell instantly in love with a Prince on a ship that sank. That much most of us know. It is similar too that she saved him from drowning when his ship sank. But here the similarities dwindle. She secretly seeks out the sea-witch who does give her a potion and charges the little mermaid her voice. She is told that every step with her new legs will hurt her as a knife cutting deep. That every breath that she takes will be as fire in her lungs. Our mermaid doesn't care. She takes and drinks the potion then swims desperately for shore as her powerful tail is replaced by painful legs that she has no clue how to operate, and her gills replaced with new fragile lungs that cannot sustain her in the depths. She locates the Prince who takes her in as a ward. He loves to dress her and walk with her, and though every step hurt like a knifes deepest cut, she loves to walk with him. Just being in his presence is worth every painful step and every burning breath.One day on their walks he informs her of his upcoming nuptial to a Princess from a foreign land that will end divisions and wars between his and her kingdoms. There is no, "but darling i love you." It is fact. It is logical. And at the time it is his obligation of privilege. Though walks on the beach are sweet and we are painfully aware of the mermaid's attraction and devotion to the Prince we have no idea of his feelings beyond a fondness for her. On the wedding night the mermaid's sisters pass to her a knife that will turn the new bride of the Prince into sea-foam so that she may have him all to herself again. Yet, while standing over them as they sleep holding the knife, it is her love of the Prince that stays her hand. She looks at him, asleep and cannot harm his bride. She chooses to become sea-foam herself.
Now that we are all caught up... Her love of her Prince to me is more beautiful than that of the love of Ariel and Eric in the Disney version. Ariel does truly give up much in the cartoon but this is different. For her Love, for his presence in her life she willingly... no. not accepts... brings pain to herself. And no I'm not recommending or glorifying self mutilation here. I'm referring to the price she pays to be near him. Every step. Every breath. Each a torture. In exchange for the bliss contained in his eyes when he smiles at her and the ecstasy contained in his voice as he speaks to her... about nothing. No sweet nothings escape his lips. No tender overtures to her beauty and gentle nature. In a sense she has exchanged her comfort for his friendship and one assumes the hope of more.
And we all do that to some extent. We nervously wait for that phone call or text and when it comes, it is as if we were holding our breath and didn't even realize it. The astounding relief that washes over us before we even answer. Before we even hear the sound of our Love's voice or read the simple message they have texted us. It is removed from who we are. or at least from who i am. I would like to imagine that i am strong and to a degree, fairly independent. But i unwittingly find myself at the mercy of hope too. Hope of his friendship, his presence maybe even his love. It's horrible. When i believe I am in love... Whenever my mind is not focused, to laser precision, on a specific task... my mind is on him. With single minded determination i get through my tasks without giving over all of me to this bizarre desire to dream myself into his arms at that moment. But this part of all attractions and love is fairly selfish. Not the giving of self one should associate with love, but the determination to receive a sign, a hug, a smile, a word of encouragement that shows that our Love loves us back.
She can't do it. She cannot destroy his marriage, his happiness with his new bride. She cannot destroy someone he holds dear even as she stands over their marital bed, ripping apart inside. This pain i am sure hurt deeper than any step she had taken on human legs and burned her at a higher flame than any breath she had taken with human lungs. And so she steps back. There is a mention in some versions that as sea-foam she looks over the couple and protects them. The romantic concept here is absolutely ridiculous. I'm picturing an ineffectual cloud of sea-foam trying to thwart any kind of attack. It's laughable and yet i do understand the desire to validate her cowardice. No i am not referring to her decision to leave the bride and groom alive and in each others arms. But instead to her termination of her own existence.
If indeed his presence, his smile, his friendship which has sustained her and is all she has ever received from him is not truly enough, then she has done this ALL for her own selfish need to posses him. And that is not love. I don't need to recite Paul's letter to the Corinthians here. Recited at every wedding and on every cheesy mug sent to a christian on valentine's day. We know the words. But do we act on them? There is much i would give up for those that i love but i know there are things i would hesitate to embrace on their behalf. Though i love him do i need him more? And yes love is give and take and compromise but love is patient, kind, never jealous or cruel or controlling. (Okay apparently i can't help at least paraphrasing it.)
So now i'm trying to say I love you and meaning only that. Placing my hopes for any return of affection into another place in my heart. Acknowledging it's presence and not letting it control or become confused with the purer emotion it began with. Love in itself is innocent and asks for nothing in return. Upon consideration i do truly love him. Examine your love for each person in your heart and ask... Do i love them? or do i NEED their love to hold and sustain me?
Now that we are all caught up... Her love of her Prince to me is more beautiful than that of the love of Ariel and Eric in the Disney version. Ariel does truly give up much in the cartoon but this is different. For her Love, for his presence in her life she willingly... no. not accepts... brings pain to herself. And no I'm not recommending or glorifying self mutilation here. I'm referring to the price she pays to be near him. Every step. Every breath. Each a torture. In exchange for the bliss contained in his eyes when he smiles at her and the ecstasy contained in his voice as he speaks to her... about nothing. No sweet nothings escape his lips. No tender overtures to her beauty and gentle nature. In a sense she has exchanged her comfort for his friendship and one assumes the hope of more.
And we all do that to some extent. We nervously wait for that phone call or text and when it comes, it is as if we were holding our breath and didn't even realize it. The astounding relief that washes over us before we even answer. Before we even hear the sound of our Love's voice or read the simple message they have texted us. It is removed from who we are. or at least from who i am. I would like to imagine that i am strong and to a degree, fairly independent. But i unwittingly find myself at the mercy of hope too. Hope of his friendship, his presence maybe even his love. It's horrible. When i believe I am in love... Whenever my mind is not focused, to laser precision, on a specific task... my mind is on him. With single minded determination i get through my tasks without giving over all of me to this bizarre desire to dream myself into his arms at that moment. But this part of all attractions and love is fairly selfish. Not the giving of self one should associate with love, but the determination to receive a sign, a hug, a smile, a word of encouragement that shows that our Love loves us back.
She can't do it. She cannot destroy his marriage, his happiness with his new bride. She cannot destroy someone he holds dear even as she stands over their marital bed, ripping apart inside. This pain i am sure hurt deeper than any step she had taken on human legs and burned her at a higher flame than any breath she had taken with human lungs. And so she steps back. There is a mention in some versions that as sea-foam she looks over the couple and protects them. The romantic concept here is absolutely ridiculous. I'm picturing an ineffectual cloud of sea-foam trying to thwart any kind of attack. It's laughable and yet i do understand the desire to validate her cowardice. No i am not referring to her decision to leave the bride and groom alive and in each others arms. But instead to her termination of her own existence.
If indeed his presence, his smile, his friendship which has sustained her and is all she has ever received from him is not truly enough, then she has done this ALL for her own selfish need to posses him. And that is not love. I don't need to recite Paul's letter to the Corinthians here. Recited at every wedding and on every cheesy mug sent to a christian on valentine's day. We know the words. But do we act on them? There is much i would give up for those that i love but i know there are things i would hesitate to embrace on their behalf. Though i love him do i need him more? And yes love is give and take and compromise but love is patient, kind, never jealous or cruel or controlling. (Okay apparently i can't help at least paraphrasing it.)
So now i'm trying to say I love you and meaning only that. Placing my hopes for any return of affection into another place in my heart. Acknowledging it's presence and not letting it control or become confused with the purer emotion it began with. Love in itself is innocent and asks for nothing in return. Upon consideration i do truly love him. Examine your love for each person in your heart and ask... Do i love them? or do i NEED their love to hold and sustain me?
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Faierie Tale Life
So then... why do we wish it? This Faerie Tale life. No. We want the ending. We want the kiss, the happily ever after, the promises of eternal bliss. We don't want the whole story. The seven years, seven actually meaning in old literature; a long time seeming like forever. The seven years of waiting, working, dreaming, praying for the quest to end, the prince to come, the torture to end. To waken to love's first kiss.
Cinderella wore the vestiges of servitude for years crying daily at the grave of her mother, living a good and pious life. She went to the ball 3 times and waited, to be, sure a long time while Prince Charming exhausted all other possibilities within the kingdom. Having danced several times in the arms of her prince she continued to work and wait.
Sleeping Beauty and Snow White both laid in a suspended sleep like death beyond a time when they should have decomposed by the telling of the Grimm brothers before their Prince chanced to ride by and a longer time still before he could get to them and kiss them awake.
So how long do we wait? Can we have patience for a year? 2? even 7? Or do we intend to skip it all? Find that happily ever after without the work? I think we all know by the time we turn 8 that ever after isn't magic it's hard work and patience.
But that kiss, that first kiss IS magic. Neurons firing through your brain faster than the ones that tell you to pull your hand away from the hot thing that is burning you on the stove. Faster than self preservation. Figuring out if you like being kissed or not while your body responds automatically as if it does. But that isn't the magic. The magic of love extends beyond the carnal desires of a moment in your true loves arms to the connection. That connection we find or don't with every person that we meet. To find someone so special to you that you want nothing more than their presence. To hold and hug them and maybe yes too to kiss them. For this kiss this connection this bliss can we wait 7 years?
Cinderella wore the vestiges of servitude for years crying daily at the grave of her mother, living a good and pious life. She went to the ball 3 times and waited, to be, sure a long time while Prince Charming exhausted all other possibilities within the kingdom. Having danced several times in the arms of her prince she continued to work and wait.
Sleeping Beauty and Snow White both laid in a suspended sleep like death beyond a time when they should have decomposed by the telling of the Grimm brothers before their Prince chanced to ride by and a longer time still before he could get to them and kiss them awake.
So how long do we wait? Can we have patience for a year? 2? even 7? Or do we intend to skip it all? Find that happily ever after without the work? I think we all know by the time we turn 8 that ever after isn't magic it's hard work and patience.
But that kiss, that first kiss IS magic. Neurons firing through your brain faster than the ones that tell you to pull your hand away from the hot thing that is burning you on the stove. Faster than self preservation. Figuring out if you like being kissed or not while your body responds automatically as if it does. But that isn't the magic. The magic of love extends beyond the carnal desires of a moment in your true loves arms to the connection. That connection we find or don't with every person that we meet. To find someone so special to you that you want nothing more than their presence. To hold and hug them and maybe yes too to kiss them. For this kiss this connection this bliss can we wait 7 years?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)