Lady Mary presents the hand to Mr. Fox. John Batten’s illustration from Joseph Jacobs’ English Fairy Tales.
“What do you mean?” Simplia asked.
“Life imitates art. What I mean is…,” Sagacia began, rearranging herself in the wingback chair. “This crazy ‘Adventurous Adventuress in Ada’ illustrates exactly the thing that parents fear most about fairy tales: that their children will use outdated, oversimplified Fairy Tale characters as role models for managing their own lives! Role models! That is no more how Fairy Tales work than I’m a shoe!”
“I’ve never thought of you as a shoe,” Simplia replied. And it was true; she hadn’t. She tried to imagine Sagacia as–what? a loafer? a sneaker? a flip-flop? An oxford? But the shoe just didn’t fit, to borrow a metaphor from a fairy tale to be named later.
“If Adventurous Adventuress wants to imitate a character, she should imitate Bluebeard’s bride. Not at the beginning of the story, when she stupidly marries him in spite of her doubts, but at the end, when she calls upon her resources–her brothers, that is–to slay her savage, salacious, psychopathic spouse,” Sagacia suggested.
Hmm… A boot? Simplia was thinking. Huaraches? No, Espadrilles, maybe. Beside her on the Chesterfield, Murzik purred contentedly.
“On the other hand, Bluebeard’s bride was mostly pretty pathetic,” Sagacia reconsidered. “Our lady in Ada would be better off imitating Lady Mary. Remember when she broke in to Mr. Fox’s house to find out whether or not he had been telling her the truth? Ada should google this Crispin guy; she ought to check out his Facebook page. Read his tweets. Right?”
Maybe Stilettos, Simplia thought. Or mules. She eyed Sagacia studiously. Or mocassins. Murzik blinked agreeably.
“Or Ada could imitate Lady Mary in that part when Mr. Fox was right there in the room with her, and he was actually murdering some poor woman. Remember? When Lady Mary bravely hid herself and remained so quiet and still, even when she was deathly afraid? Even when the victim’s cut off hand fell into her lap? Even when Mr. Fox started searching for it and kept getting closer and closer to her hiding place?” Sagacia stood up and leapt onto the hassock.
“Remember?” she insisted. “I mean, if you’re looking for a role model, look to the courageous parts, the bold parts!” She shook her fist in the air. “Go, Ada!” she cheered.
Simplia continued pondering footwear. Murzik rolled off the Chesterfield, landing gently on his feet.
“Even better: Ada should imitate Lady Mary when she calmly went through the ceremony to marry Mr. Fox,” Sagacia continued. “Then at dinner when she laid out that whole story about her dream, skillfully confronting him with his evil crimes before calling forth her co-conspirator brothers to put an end to him,” Sagacia said with relish. “Now, THAT’s bold!” She stomped her foot on her hassock soapbox for emphasis and affirmed her conviction by jutting her chin.
Simplia didn’t respond. She was still squinting in Sagacia’s direction. Murzik looked up, too, at the stalwart woman posed on the hassock.
“Why are you all looking at me like that!?” Sagacia asked.
“Platforms!” Simplia exclaimed decisively.
“What?”
“I was thinking that if you were a shoe; what kind would you be?” Simplia said. “And right now, when you’re on your soapbox, you’re definitely platforms!”
“And you are impossible!” Sagacia said, stepping down!
“Right!” Simplia agreed. “But there’s just one more thing. What was it you meant about life imitating art?”
“Oh,” Sagacia said. “This risk-taking Ada woman is trying to be the star of her own fairy tale by imitating classic heroines, and she thinks that, in the end, she will either live happily ever after or make her mark in a legendary death scene. Only she’s not even trying to be herself! She’s turning over her own life to a folkloric motif. That’s just not right.” She fell into the wingback. “It’s not sane.”
“So, what do we say to her?” Simpia questioned.
“Well, we have to be kind and really helpful. Heaven knows she needs it!” said Sagacia.
“And we can’t mention that we think she’s a lunatic,” Simplia muttered.
Murzik hopped onto the vacated hassock.
“Or maybe we should mention it. That might be the kindest thing of all,” Sagacia speculated.
“I wish Vasilisa were here!” Simplia sighed.
“Or our magical friends. There must have been some wild New Years’ Eve parties across the kingdom!” Sagacia said. “But maybe they are back and ready to help out poor Adventurous Adventuress in Ada by now.”
“Yeah,” said Simplia. “I’ll fluff the pillows on the Chesterfield.”
“I’ll put on some tea,” said Sagacia.
“Meow,” said Murzik.
Loved Simplicias shoe musings, but getting back to the non issue :) at hand -I am going with the assumption that the stories we hear do influence our lives to a great deal.
How did we establish, this guy with the Godly looks, charming manners and hot car is a cad? we have’nt put him to the test…. the test which gives him a chance to show him up for who he is under all those layers of gloriousd packaging! send him on an adventure, where his heart will be tested, and more importantly AA, send yourself on an adventure…. waiting for the ring is not an adventure :) True, most heroines did not go looking for an adventure themselves, but neither did they have online access to Simplicia, Sagacia and the gang….. The point is its the same world in many ways (there are princes and trolls. young woodcutters and kindly giants and BlueBeards) and its a different world in many ways (you do know karate, and you have the latest technology at your finger tips)…
i love this format :)
Thanks, Erica! I’m trying to think of where to dig first in this rich cache of jewels you’ve left us.
I fully agree that stories influence our lives! What I hoped to be saying was that that is not because the *characters* in them are necessarily role models–as AA in Ada seems to think. Stories influence our lives because the tale itself–the whole tale, not just the protagonist–affirms and illustrates important cultural and family values. In fact, sometimes that is *because* the characters fall short of “modeling” the right behavior and we see their goal is foiled or delayed. I think a big worry of parents is wimpy women in fairy tales, or women who seem to rely upon a prince saving them, though that may well have represented a cultural truth from times past and, in the past, the heroine may have served as a *role model* for ladylike behavior.
One thing I struggled with about Lady Mary, for example, was the fact that, after all the brave things she had done, in the end she just stood around while her brothers jumped out from behind the curtains and killed the evil groom. But the story ultimately grabbed me when I read Alan Davies’ version, in which Lady Mary herself pulls out a dagger and stabs Mr. Fox in his black heart (not part of the classic story, so I didn’t mention it here), and then she doesn’t so much “let” her brothers save her as she does call on them to finish off Mr. Fox, which they do with relish! It makes it seem as if they had discussed it around the dinner table the night before and her brothers had said, “Let me at him!” All seven of them! So of course, she had to let them share in the pleasure of tearing the scoundrel limb from limb.
Also, Alan calls Lady Mary “bold” from the beginning, and he defines that: she drinks, she rides her horse too fast, she gambles, and she toys with the affections of her many suitors. She’s a risk taker. That catches teens’ attention! When she uses that boldness with purpose at the end, we see that she has matured through the course of the story.
And I fully agree about the princes and trolls and young woodcutters in the real world–and the equalizing protection of karate and cell phones! Well said!