Arthur A. Dixon
Sagacia tore along the dotted line on the end of the cat food box, signaling Murzik that dinner would be served momentarily. He prissed into the kitchen of the Fairy Tale Lobby.
Sagacia shook the box over the cat dish, but nothing poured out.
She shook again.
Nothing.
She looked into the opening.
Inside was a pale yellow envelope. That was all. It was addressed to Vasilisa.
“Simplia,” she called. “It’s arrived! This month’s letter to Vasilisa from someone from somewhere about something about fairy tales.
“It was in the cat food box,” she said, as the other Simpleton danced into the room. “Here. Will you read it? My hands are full.”
“We should have known! It is the magical third day of the month, after all,” said Simplia.
She tore along the fold of the envelope, pulled out a sheet of crisp yellow stationery with a long stem of iris painted in watercolor along the left edge. She unfolded it and read the neat handwriting:
Dear Vasilisa the Wise,
Sometimes the ending of a fairy tale just isn’t right, you know? For example, we try to teach our children how risky it is to rush into marriage, and then the kids hear about some youth who marries a beautiful girl he just met in the last paragraph and ends up living happily ever after. That may have been an affirming ending in the day of arranged marriages, but today it just won’t fly. It is sheer fantasy, and one that won’t help this generation a bit!
Or what about when the king offers his daughter’s hand in marriage in exchange for some trivial favor. What does that say to our daughters today?
Or, try this: a character gets punished vindictively at the end, like Snow White’s mother having to dance herself to death in red-hot shoes. Such cruel and unusual punishment is unacceptable in this day and time!
Can’t we all just get together and agree that it’s part of the natural evolutionary process of oral storytelling to change the ending of a story, either subtly or drastically, if the old ending is no longer appropriate? So, why not simply change them? I do! And I’m just wondering: what fairy tale endings have you or your readers have wrestled with. What enters into the decision to either keep an ending or modify it?
Evolving in Evanston
“Oh, dear! I’ll just pin this to the door, and maybe some of our magical friends will come along and help out,” said Simplia.
Sagacia shook the cat food box again. Not a sound. Not a single snap, crackle or pop. Or clunk. Or thud.
Murzik was not pleased.
“Meow,” he objected. This was one ending he’d change in a New York minute!
Fairy Tale Lobby 
I tried to change the ending of a folktale once; I thought the punishment for the evil queen was too cruel, so I just had her run away into exile and never return. The kids, however, ended up being deeply disturbed by this, and kept coming back to me to tell me the queen should have died, and adding all the gory ways how she could have (fall from the tower, beheaded, etc.). I don’t think it was some morbid fascination either. I think they did not feel safe, as if the story did not come to a satisfying conclusion, and the queen could still return to take revenge. Kids don’t roll around in the gory details either. They just need to know evil gets punished, and the punishment is final. (Justice has been served, huh).
Another example: a father came up to me once after a gig and asked me why the rich man is always the villain in folktales, and if I think we should start telling stories where the hard working rich man is actually good. Such universal statements usually ruffle my feathers, so I asked back, you mean, all the princes are not rich?… :)
As for marriage, that is an interesting question. Hardcore story fanatics would just say marriage is just a symbol in your Jungian subconscious and has nothing to do with actual social phenomena. I don’t think that’s entirely true. That is one of the reasons why I prefer telling stories like The Daughter of the Sun, where the girl actually gets a choice about marrying the prince… or, instead of theking setting the challenges, it’s the princess herself who does. Because that makes a whole lot of sense. Show me one woman who has never set near-impossible standards for “the One”. :)
Before I change the ending of a story, I ask myself: “will this change make the message of the story more relevant/understandable/thought-provoking for the audience?” If this answer is yes, then I change the ending. In foolish wishes, I let the audience give me different endings after I tell them that the man and woman sat there at the table with no more wishes and no more lunch, either. If I play around a lot with the outcome and then wonder if I am being true to Story, I remind myself that if the stories had never been written down, they would have continued to change. Who’s to say that it might not have come out the way I’m telling it now?
I do a program that is called “Ole Skool Classics.” In this program I purposely tell stories with older, or “the original” endings. Well, Little Red Riding Hood does get shocks and gasps when in the end she is killed by the wolf, but I also tell people why that story was written and what the changes have been. The gasps turn into, “how interesing!” I think we can’t tell anything more gross than real life to our kids. Let’s use our stories about monsters to help kids know that monsters are real and sometimes can be beaten; and, foolish behavior leads to foolish results. We love “real” tv, why not a little “real” story. :) Sheila.
I did something similar when I did course on Internet safety with high school students. I started with a picture of Little Red Riding Hood and the wolf and asked if they recognized the story. I have them share their memory of it, which is usually the Disneyized version. Then I tell them one of the first versions by Perrault, where the wolf ends up devouring her and try to connect the story to their image of the impact of what they post on the Internet is.
I found it an interesting way to capture the attention of kids who think they know it all.
This is brilliant! Because the big bad wolf now lives on the internet and he will gobble you up and your grandma too!!!
The old tales became “old tales” because they were retold. Once written down they became “classics” that Disney expropriated and copyrighted. As a storyteller I feel it is not my duty to preserve some piece of patriarchal propaganda just because it is “old”, “traditional”, or “classic”. Bear-baiting was traditional in Grimm’s day but we have, I hope, outgrown that barbarism. Why should I be restricted to barbaric tales told by people who enjoyed bear-baiting as a spectator sport?
Except for those of us who study the roots and evolution of stories as scholars (guilty as charged), most of our clients just want to hear a story. The don’t give a hoot whether it’s “authentic” or culturally correct. They want it to be a good story. If the story is too barbaric, politically incorrect or culturally insensitive then the story is no longer entertaining or appropriate. I have no qualms about changing a story, adapting a story, or even creating a story “inspired by” traditional stereotypes.
Actively told tales are constantly evolving to reflect the culture in which they are embedded. If you don’t think tales should change with the times, then your stories will soon be so culturally obtuse or linguistically incomprehensible that they will no longer be entertaining. “Rap” versions of classics seem to be popular because clients enjoy them and hear the plot essentials in new ways. Updating stories is a fine old tradition. I’m sure that the Grimm’s updated some of the old pagan myths, and we, as keepers of the stories should not be shy about updating our own anciently derived tales to reflect the cultural realities of this “modern” (so soon to be outdated!) age.
I feel that we are responsible for the stories we tell. If I tell a story about a “king” or a “princess” (and I do), then I am reaffirming the falsehood of the “divine right” of royalty to rule over his/her fellow human beings by accident of birth. This is so deeply embedded in our culture that it will take many generations to change, but I feel the change is indeed coming. We should be aware of it or we risk becoming irrelevant in the new age. Stories have real power to preserve good or destroy evil. We have the power to define good and evil in our stories. We must choose wisely. It is our duty to future generations.
may we be more empowered than Murzik :)
Poor Murzik. Going to bed on an empty stomach is not much fun, but that was also one of the punishments that we don’t mete out very often today (unless, of course, there is no food – which seems to be happening more often these days).
I often do change the “Happily Ever After” ending to “So with a lot of hard work and a little bit of luck, they lived Happily Ever After!” Ever so much more satisfying to one who has seen through the veil of “Happily Ever After” when one partner does all the work herself.
When I wanted to tell Rapunzel for summer reading programs, i.e. the stroller crowd, I thought it might end differently for those preschoolers.
I usually remember to say that it’s different from the way they’ve heard it before. Here’s my ending: the prince climbs up the hair, meets the old hag and slides back down the braid. Rapunzel follows and the two pull the braid hard out of the hag’s hands. They go off and maybe, just maybe, find Rapunzel’s real parents. Everybody–{long pause] except the old woman–lives happily ever after.
I also make the beginning into a jump tale when the husband goes into the garden next door to get the greens. Twice he almost gets caught, the third time he does. Oh, and in Kansas, adults seem to be afraid of witches, so I make her into an old woman. Age-ist, I know, and my puppet Trixie, who is 111, occasionally comments on how that’s sort of a scary story for her. In this area, I don’t tell stories about witches or devils (as if kids would be influenced to become one?).
I felt guilty changing it, but it’s in service of the story and of the audience. Yeah, I could have found another story to tell, but this one is so satisfying for the listeners–and for me.
It’s important to make sure that there is story justice. If I let the old woman live happily ever after, the audience would worry that she’d come back for Rapunzel.
Priscilla
Well said Priscilla! Your quest to be “in service of the story and of the audience” is a noble and good goal; not only in the crafting, but in the telling too. When dealing with a specific phrase, section, gesture, facial expression or piece of “stage business”, I have always asked the question (of coaching clients AND myself) “Does this serve the story?” Thanks for the examples too. Understanding the culture of your audience and changing the word “witch” is quite admirable. You have my highest regard!
Brian’s point of if a story has something offensive to you in it then don’t tell it; there are a lot of great stories out there, rings true for the most part
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However if the story despite its offensive parts has meaning for you and is a message you feel should be shared, as long as you are not changing the intent of the story, I see no reason why you can’t adapt it and label it as such (“This is a tale I’ve adapted that is from the Brothers Grimm”).
I think this holds true for fairy tales and folktales, but not as much for literary works by authors. Without an author’s permission, I would stick to their words or not tell the story (but then again this is the Fairy Tale Lobby).
Here’s a question for Vasalisa to ponder. When you look at folktales from around the world that are similar, such as the many versions of Cinderella, where did they all originate from? Was it one story that when passed from culture to culture, was changed by the person telling it to fit the customs and political correctness of their own group of listeners? Or did they all just happen to come up with the same story idea at the same time?
Many of the old tales already have multiple endings–Cinderella’s stepsisters may be maimed (heel or toes cut off), they may be killed horribly or they may just have to live with their former servant as their princess/queen, depending on the telling.
A new version (as long as you don’t portray it as traditional) is acceptable; call it a modern adaptation, though.
I have changed the ending of a tale or two in my time–but always acknowledged that the original ended somewhat differently and called it “an original tale based on traditional themes”.
However, “sheer fantasy” is also acceptable–you’re worried about “happily ever after” when there are dragons and witches in the tales??
This is not a choice made easily… or more than a cat will go hungry, your audience will hunger for more depth. Yes, stories change, evolve, and are even adapted on the fly for the audience, time limit, or setting. But tread lightly on little cat paws, there is something deep and fulfilling in the metaphorical implications clothed in gruesome or romantic details. I have been performing as Wilhelm Grimm for a dozen years, (including this weekend at the Davenport Iowa German American Heritage Society to celebrate the Grimm bicentennial!) and even Wilhelm softened the stories, made them a little less sexual, but surprisingly, sometimes more grim! I often choose to go in the opposite direction and research the earliest versions of the stories, peeling away the Disney-fication and telling the Grimmest versions. There is also the question of cultural authenticity. Does your edit honor or detract from the authenticity of the story? Or could an edit adapt a story for the cultural mileau in which you find yourself so the audience can better relate to the metaphors? So confusing… do you prefer kibble or bits?
PS The easy answer is simply this: If there is something offensive to you in the story don’t tell it. There are thousands of great stories out there that might better resonate with your values.