From My Book of Favourite Fairy Tales, illus. Jennie Harbour (1893-1959).
via Wikimedia Commons
|
I’ve recently had reason to do a little delving into the
well-known fairy tale Cinderella. I’m
no fairy tale scholar, and I can’t offer you now anything approaching a full
overview of its history (there are thousands of variants of the story, and it
appears in many different guises in different cultures all over the world). But
I – along with millions of others – have known one version (with a
variation or two) since childhood, and my copies of the books I loved then have
been loved in turn by my own daughters, and are still precious to me now.
Charles Perrault is credited as the author of two of them – the
Picture Puffin edition illustrated (with genius) by Errol Le Cain, and the
charming mini edition illustrated by Jan Pieńkowski – and Perrault’s version
is certainly the main source for the third too, the Ladybird, in which the
story is retold brilliantly by Vera Southgate (with illustrations by Eric Winter).
The wealthy Parisian Charles Perrault (1628-1703) spent a
great deal of his career working for the government of Louis XIV, and he was
also an author and a member of the Académie française. Late in his life he embarked on retelling a
collection of pre-existing folk tales, which he published as Histoires ou contes du temps passé (Stories or Fairy Tales from
Past Times with Morals), with the subtitle Les Contes de ma Mère
l'Oye (Mother Goose Tales). In his version of Cinderella – unlike the version told by the
Brothers Grimm (see below) – there is a fairy godmother, a pumpkin that turns
into a carriage, and the familiar glass slipper. This, in other words, is the
version that I grew up with.
An illustration by P.J. Jacomb Hood for Cinderella
in the 1889
edition of The Blue Fairy Book ed. Andrew Lang
by Ricardo Maragna, [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
|
But still, there are some small details in
Perrault’s version that often get lost in modern retellings. For a start, Perrault
has two balls instead of one. And, when Cinderella’s stepsisters return from
the first ball full of news of the appearance of the mysterious unknown
princess, Cinderella indulges in a little mischief:
“[Cinderella]
asked them the name of that princess; but they told her they did not know it, and
that the king's son was very uneasy on her account and would give all the world
to know who she was. At this Cinderella, smiling, replied, "She must,
then, be very beautiful indeed; how happy you have been! Could not I see her?
Ah, dear Charlotte, do lend me your yellow dress which you wear every
day."
"Yes,
to be sure!" cried Charlotte; "lend my clothes to such a dirty
Cinderwench as you are! I should be such a fool."
Cinderella,
indeed, well expected such an answer, and was very glad of the refusal; for she
would have been sadly put to it, if her sister had lent her what she asked for
jestingly.”
[From The Blue Fairy Book ed. Andrew Lang, which used Perrault as its source (London: Longmans, Green, and Co., ca.
1889), pp. 64-71. For the full text, click here.]
I like this
mischief!
Secondly, in
Perrault’s version there is a small detail at the end that often gets lost:
“[The
slipper] was brought to the two sisters, who did all they possibly could to
force their foot into the slipper, but they did not succeed.
Cinderella,
who saw all this, and knew that it was her slipper, said to them, laughing,
"Let me see if it will not fit me."”
[From The Blue Fairy Book ed. Andrew Lang, as
above.]
To have Cinderella
asking to try the shoe herself (and laughing, indeed!) contrasts with some
other versions of the story, one of which is in my Vera Southgate (Ladybird)
book. Here, the prince himself has brought the slipper to the house, and
Cinderella takes no active part in the fulfillment of her destiny:
“At last,
the prince turned to Cinderella’s father and asked, “Have you no other
daughter?”
“I have one
more,” replied the father, “but she is always in the kitchen.” Then the ugly
sisters cried out, “She is much too dirty, she cannot show herself.”
But the
prince insisted and so Cinderella was sent for.”
[From ‘Well-Loved
Tales’: Cinderella – A Ladybird ‘Easy-Reading’ Book, retold by Vera Southgate,
pub. 1964]
Cinderella's laughter in the Perrault version is important, it strikes me. It’s a tiny
detail, but again there is a flavour of mischief in it, to leaven Cinderella’s
preternatural kindness (at the end of the Perrault version, Cinderella forgives
her sisters, asks only that they should now love her always, and marries them
off to two rich noblemen – which provides a stark contrast to the Grimm version,
as we shall see, which is – as you might expect – grimmer).
Incidentally, re. the glass slipper: there is
some suggestion that Perrault (or one of his sources) might have mistaken an
oral storyteller’s fur slipper – “une pantoufle de vair” – for a glass slipper
– “une pantoufle de verre”… you can read more about that particular question
here.
From The fairy tales of
Charles Perrault
illus. Harry Clarke (1889-1931). London: Harrap (1922)
via Wikimedia Commons
|
The version
of Cinderella recorded by the Brothers Grimm (under the title Aschenputtel) is different from
Perrault’s version in several major respects, but two features of it have
influenced my (Vera Southgate) Ladybird. Firstly, there are three balls. This
provides a lovely rhythm (better than two) and means that the Ladybird illustrator
Eric Winter could show three different ballgowns, in a crescendo of splendour –
an absolute winner with me as a child! Secondly, the shoes Cinderella wears on
the final evening are golden rather than glass.
In the
Grimms’ version, Cinderella’s dying mother – and later her grave – feature
prominently, making it reminiscent of other fairy tales in which the dead
(good) mother’s power lives on – such as Vasilisa the Beautiful. The
stepmother and stepsisters throw peas and lentils among the ashes for
Cinderella to pick out. This also echoes a range of other tales in which a ‘sorting
of the seeds’ is given as a task, from the aforementioned Vasilisa, to Psyche
and Eros.
Instead of
a fairy godmother, in the Grimms’ version a tree and a bird become Cinderella’s
helpers, as a result of a Cordelia-like humble request that Cinderella makes of
her father:
“One day it
happened that the father was going to the fair, and he asked his two
stepdaughters what he should bring back for them.
"Beautiful
dresses," said the one.
"Pearls
and jewels," said the other.
"And
you, Cinderella," he said, "what do you want?"
"Father,
break off for me the first twig that brushes against your hat on your way
home."
So he
bought beautiful dresses, pearls, and jewels for his two stepdaughters. On his
way home, as he was riding through a green thicket, a hazel twig brushed
against him and knocked off his hat. Then he broke off the twig and took it with
him. Arriving home, he gave his stepdaughters the things that they had asked
for, and he gave Cinderella the twig from the hazel bush.
Cinderella
thanked him, went to her mother's grave, and planted the branch on it, and she
wept so much that her tears fell upon it and watered it. It grew and became a
beautiful tree.
Cinderella
went to this tree three times every day, and beneath it she wept and prayed. A
white bird came to the tree every time, and whenever she expressed a wish, the
bird would throw down to her what she had wished for.”
[Extract from translation of Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm's "Aschenputtel" (from 7th edition of Grimms' Fairy Tales, 1857), by D. L. Ashliman. © 2001-2006. For the full
translation, click here. ]
This bird also
made it – in simplified form – into a lovely version of
Cinderella by Dick Bruna (creator of Miffy), published in 1966. Here the bird fetches
the fairy godmother:
Cinderella, by Dick Bruna, published by Methuen |
The Grimms,
in fact, have many birds helping Cinderella with tasks that the stepmother sets
her and this affinity with animals made it into the Disney version too (see
here).
Aschenputtel
by Alexander Zick (1845 - 1907), uploaded by Adrian Michael [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons |
When it
comes to the final ball, the prince tries to stop Cinderella running away by
ordering the palace staircase to be smeared with pitch… which has become honey
in this illustration:
From Europa's fairy book (1916) by Joseph Jacobs John Dickson Batten [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons |
This is why she loses a shoe!
And, when
the shoe is brought round to the stepsisters to be tried on, they go to much
more drastic lengths to make it fit than Perrault’s stepsisters do:
From
Europa's fairy book (1916) by Joseph Jacobs John Dickson Batten [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons |
“With her
mother standing by, the older one took the shoe into her bedroom to try it on.
She could not get her big toe into it, for the shoe was too small for her. Then
her mother gave her a knife and said, "Cut off your toe. When you are
queen you will no longer have to go on foot."
The girl
cut off her toe, forced her foot into the shoe, swallowed the pain, and went
out to the prince. He took her on his horse as his bride and rode away with
her. However, they had to ride past the grave, and there, on the hazel tree,
sat the two pigeons, crying out:
Rook di
goo, rook di goo!
There's
blood in the shoe.
The shoe is
too tight,
This bride
is not right!”
[Extract from translation of Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm's "Aschenputtel" (from 7th edition of Grimms' Fairy Tales, 1857), by D. L. Ashliman, as
above.]
The same
process is then gone through with the younger stepsister, who cuts off a piece of
her heel, but whose cheating is betrayed again by the pigeons who sit on the hazel tree (which has grown on Cinderella’s mother’s grave).
These same pigeons,
at Cinderella’s wedding, then pluck out the stepsisters’ eyes, so that they are
punished “for their wickedness and falsehood” for the rest of their lives.
Grim(m),
but fascinating!
H.M. Castor's novel VIII - a new take on the life of Henry VIII, for teenagers and adults - will be published in the U.S. by Simon & Schuster later this month.
It is published in the U.K. by Templar, in Australia by Penguin, and in France by Hachette.
H.M. Castor's website is here.
3 comments:
Lovely illustrations! And yes - I like the laughing Cinderella best too!
Ooh, I like that new Vll cover! And loved your post. But why does no-one ever question why the slippers (whatever they are made of) survived the chimes at midnight when all the other enchantments disappeared? I could write a whole novel about that!
My fave cinderelle was the russian ones http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/type0510a.html#birch this is a good example of them, I loved the blood thirsty and savage stories as a child, just when 'real' books and 'letting children read if they want' came in. This left me ahead of most of my peers in traditions and reading.
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