Etym: I slipped up when I was trying to say "mouth." Bouth came out and this was the definition my niece gave to it.
Sent from my iPhone
Here you'll find the readings and reflections of an 8th grade reading teacher. I agree with Taylor Mali - If I'm going to change the world, it'll be one eighth grader at a time.
Etym: I slipped up when I was trying to say "mouth." Bouth came out and this was the definition my niece gave to it.
Sent from my iPhone
The most intriguing motif in Atwood's "Bluebeard's Egg" was the heart
motif. Sally's husband Ed is a "heart man," which we can infer is a
cardiologist. He works in a hospital, and according to Sally, many women
want him to fix their hearts. The narrator says that Ed is "beset by
sirens," (Atwood in Tatar, 1999, p. 160) alluding to the mythological
characters said to lure sailors off course and to their deaths. But even
though Ed is a heart man, he's not clear on matters of the heart, thus
making him a target for those sirens. To Sally, however, the heart is
not a necessary organ, it is something that can be removed,
symbolically, I imagine, if it causes trouble.
We see, even further, Sally's detachment from her heart when Ed allows
her to test the new machine in his wing. She sees her heart in black and
white not as something that is attached to her, but something that beats
somewhere off in the distance of its own volition. Thus, she cannot get
a read on her own feelings, her own sense of self.
At the end of the story, past the retelling of a version of Bluebeard,
after Sally decides to retell the story from the perspective of the egg,
she revisits the black and white version of the heart outside of herself
as something she has no control over. The egg is the next image to pop
into her mind, one that shifts and changes, and feels alive to her. Its
red hue intrigues Sally, and she wonders what will hatch from it.
I wonder, as a reader, if we are supposed to infer that within the egg
is a color version of Sally's heart, very alive and very much part of
her. This could represent a liberation of sorts, returning to the actual
question. There life within an egg, followed by the birth (hatching) of
an egg--Sally's sense of self is confined inside this pulsating object,
and Sally is afraid of it, as many women find themselves afraid of life
on their own.
Tatar, M. (1999). The Classic Fairy Tales. New York: W. W. Norton
& Co.
I have to admit that I read the introduction to this section of the
anthology twice, once before reading the variations, and once following.
Reading the introduction beforehand allowed me enough awareness that I
was able to see the difference in personality from one Cinderella to the
next. Tatar said that "even within a single culture, she can appear
genteel and self-effacing in one story, clever and enterprising in
another, coy and manipulative in a third" (Tatar, 1999, p. 102). Knowing
this beforehand, and having read other fairy tale variations, made these
character changes easier to see.
Because of Tatar's introduction I was also aware of the role of the
father in the stories--the father either is cause of the turmoil,
lusting after his daughter because of his dying wife's wish for fidelity
(I don't think she thought he'd find anyone that met her requirements),
or his own daughter's neglect. I find it interesting that the father
figure fades into the backgroud. I remember reading on Disney animated
movies for another class long ago, and something there was mentioned
about the absence of father. If I remember (and I haven't seen
Cinderella in a long time), something happens to the father, it's
not that he's absent so much as he dies, I think, and Cinderella is left
with her stepmother and stepsisters. We see this particular idea again
in other film versions of the story as well.
Finally, and I mentioned this a little above, I never thought about the
story of Cinderella involving incestuous relationships between father
and daughter before. Where must a father be after the death of his wife,
to pursue a relationship with his own offspring?
Tatar, M. (1999). The Classic Fairy Tales. New York: W. W. Norton
& Co.
I chose to look at the Grimms' version of Cinderella and the values that
are evident in the culture.
By his absence throughout the entire story, a message sent to
readers/listeners of this version of the story are led to believe that a
father's love for a daughter wanes to non-existance when he remarries.
The father does not admonish his wife, nor her daughters for the
mistreatment of his own progeny. He allows them to strip her of her
clothing, and treat her as a servant, placing conditions on her
attendance to events she is rightly entitled to attend. By doing this,
he has elevated his wife and step-daughters to a station higher than his
flesh and blood. Additionally, he refers to Cinderella as "my dead
wife's daughter" (Grimm in Tatar, 1999, p. 121), placing no claim on her
whatsoever.
Also, we see that sacrifices of the flesh, if made dishonestly, are
fruitless when attempting to come about our desires. Both of
Cinderella's stepsisters mutilate themselves to fit into a shoe, but the
fact that they are morally corrupt and Cinderella is not leads nature to
respond on Cinderella's behalf, alerting the prince to the girls'
deception. In the end, their misdeeds are rewarded with blindness,
another gift from nature.
Tatar, M. (1999). The Classic Fairy Tales. New York: W. W. Norton
& Co.
An interesting image in the Cinderella stories to me was the image of
the antagonist sending a "hunter to kill and recover her lungs and liver
for dinner" (103). This image is recurring, not only in the Cinderella
stories, but in the Snow White stories as well. The antagonist, in this
case the "wicked" stepmother, is looking for evidence of her
stepdaughter's murder. The fact that she wants to ingest parts of her
stepdaughter's remains suggests that by consuming these pieces of the
girl, the stepmother is thereby internalizing Cinderella's (or Snow
White's) power, becoming one with it.
A prominent symbolic element in the Cinderella stories is the
protagonist's finding of aid in the natural world. From animals helping
with ridiculous tasks (Grimm's "Cinderella"), gifts from a dead fish
("Yeh-hsien"), to being dressed up in the hides of animals
("Donkeyskin", "Catskin", and "The Princess in the Suit of Leather"),
the protagonists have a peace with nature that allows it to help the
with their tasks and away from harm. In "Catskin," "Donkeyskin," and
"The Princess in the Suit of Leather" specifically, the Cinderella
character assumes the outward figure of an animal, dressed in their
hides, to keep from being recognized.
Tatar, M. (1999). The Classic Fairy Tales. New York: W. W. Norton
& Co.
It's interesting to me that the Grimm brothers, while were galled at the
appearance of sex and/or desire in their stories but the "fastidious
descriptions of cruel punishments, on the whole escaped censorship"
(Tatar, 1999, p. 369-370); in many places they further expanded on the
violent scenes from whichever story version they pulled from. The
brothers were encouraged by their brother Ferdinand to remove the sexual
connotations from the story, "eliminating anything that might offend
sensibilities of the reading public" (Tatar, 1999, p. 372). This
suggests that the brothers decided that violence was completely
acceptable, but the discussion of sex and incest was not.
Here's where I'm having trouble. If the intended audience for these
stories was not children, why did they title the collection Nursery
and Household Tales? Yes, they thought that parents should use their
discretion in telling tales to the children (connection to present day
television watching, anyone?), but the title seems misleading.
Tatar, M. (1999). The Classic Fairy Tales. New York: W. W. Norton
& Co.
One symbolic element seen in the Bluebeard stories is the key. In the
Perrault version of the story, Bluebeard gives his wife the keys to the
storerooms containing all of his valuables. He uses the key to try and
"unlock" the happiness of his wife, or at least, to keep the door to
happiness open and thus misdirect her. However, Bluebeard gives her the
specific instruction not to enter the little room at the end of the
hall, though he does give her the key. This small key is the key to
unlock Bluebeard's anger, as well as the key that unlocks his past and
what became of his previous wives. This little key also becomes the key
to her potential demise—because it is enchanted, she cannot wipe it of
her misbehavior, and it is stained with the blood of the women in the room.
Similarly, in the Grimms' version ("Fitcher's bird"), the husband gives
the wife the keys to the estate and says that she can go anywhere except
in one room with penalty of death. This small key represents the
husband's history. That it is locked away may mean that it is something
he wants private, but that he also wants her to find, otherwise he would
have removed the key to begin with. In the end of the story, it is a key
(though not explicitly stated) that becomes the demise of the sorcerer
as he is locked in his house and destroyed by fire.
In the second Grimms' version ("The Robber Bridegroom"), there is no
mention of a key in this story, though the finger that the girl
possessed is like a key as it is the element that unlocks the story of
the robber and is used to turn this robber over to the authorities so he
and his band of murderers cannot kill anyone else.
Another symbolic element present in the Bluebeard stories is the use of
dreams and rings. Both the girl in "Fitcher's Bird" and Lady Mary in
"Mr. Fox" use dream telling as a means of confrontation. By using dream
telling, the protagonists can distance themselves from the action they
witnessed, express to the antagonist their knowledge of his
transgressions, and find their way out of the marriage contract.
In both of these stories, as well, the protagonists witnessed the
antagonist's attempt to remove a ring from the finger of a murdered
girl. The archetypal ring is associated with fidelity. The removal, or
attempted removal of the ring from the girl is symbolic, to the
antagonist, of the girls' fidelity, in death, to the antagonist.
Tatar, M. (1999). The Classic Fairy Tales. New York: W. W. Norton & Co.
Naomi Wood says that "Disney's reputation for squeaky-clean family
entertainment has led many to overlook the very American prurience that
was so appealing and acceptable to his audiences" (Woods, p. 31). What I
want to take from this is a look at the lasciviousness of the Disney
films, so much as a look at this idea of the purity of Disney's reputation.
Wood points out that Disney films have a tendency to stereotype. She
mentions the relationship between body type and intelligence as well as
the use of accent in speech as two examples of how the Disney films have
been used to create and/or perpetuate certain societal norms in American
culture. This portrayal in Disney films is not so different from what
the Grimm brothers were trying to do with their stories.
This "squeaky-clean family entertainment" in addition to
not-so-inadvertently expressing the desires of adults and instilling
ideas of a social hierarchy based on regional dialect, also uses song
lyrics to implant cultural stereotyping ideas in the minds of the
viewers. Take Aladdin (1991) for example. In the opening song,
the character talks about his middle-eastern homeland as a place where
people "cut off your ear / if they don't like your face," continuing to
call it a "barbaric" place, thus giving the viewer the idea that anyone
of middle-eastern descent is uncivilized.
Further examination of the color archetypes used in Disney films most
likely would add to Wood's assertion, but I won't go into that here.
Wood, N. Domesticating dreams in Walt Disney's Cinderella.
Retrieved June 7, 2009 from
<https://salsa.nmsu.edu/SCRIPT/carmens01_SU/scripts/student/serve_bulletin>.
In the introduction to this section of the anthology, Tatar says that
"Walt Disney's Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs has so eclipsed
other versions of the story that it is easy to forget that hundreds of
variants have been collected over the past century in Europe, Asia,
Africa and the Americas" (1999, p. 74). It seems that such is the case
with many fairy tales adapted for the screen by the Disney company. Once
again, there are two particular parts of this story that caught my
interest, evidence of both can be seen in the Grimms' adaptation of the
story, the second of which is blatantly referenced in Sexton's poem
version of the tale.
A section of the Grimms' tale struck me as very similar to tellings of
the "Goldilocks and the Three Bears" story I heard as a child. There are
references to, and all seven dwarfs go through the line, to the ideas
that someone's eaten their food, drank their wine and slept in their
beds, much like the bears' lament, though without the destructive
element of Goldilocks. I can't help but wonder if the Grimm brothers
were alluding to that story when telling their version of "Snow White,"
or if the story of Goldilocks grew from this one section of the Grimm
brothers' tale.
The other point of interest in the "Snow White" stories is the
implication that women are the lesser in intelligence when men and women
are compared. Again, in the Grimm brother's tale, the dwarfs repeatedly
tell Snow White not to open the door for anyone as they know her
stepmother is coming after her. Snow White, and Sexton refers to her as
a "dumb bunny" (in Tatar, 1999, p. 99), repeatedly ignores the warnings
of the dwarfs, and finds herself killed as many times as she opens the door.
We have already discussed the purpose of the Grimm's tales--that they
were designed to be morality tales for children of a set social class.
This being the case, that the protagonist of these stories continued to
repeat a dangerous action further perpetuated the Arthurian idea that
women need protecting from men, as they are not intelligent enough to
protect themselves.
Tatar, M. (1999). The Classic Fairy Tales. New York: W. W. Norton
& Co.
Gilbert and Gubar (in Tatar, 1999) offer analytical perspective into the
classic fairy tale we know as "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs." As I've
looked at the role of parent already, I'll continue with that theme,
focusing on Gilbert and Gubar's take on the role of the father figure
within this particular tale.
The male figures in "Snow White," according to Gilbert and Gubar, take a
backseat to the conflict between mother and daughter. This secondary
role, however, still has a vast impact on the mother's motivation, and
thus the patriarchal characters are part of the driving force in terms
of plot movement.
Of the "magic mirror" as we know it, Gilbert and Gubar say that one male
figure, the father figure, is "the voice of the looking glass, the
patriarchal voice of judgment that rules the queen's--and every
woman's--self-evaluation" (in Tatar, 1999, p. 293). It is this
judgmental voice, the one that tells the queen that she no longer holds
highest favor, that provides the catalyst for the queen's hatred of her
daughter, and the part of herself that mirrors her daughter.
Similarly, the "huntsman is really a surrogate for the King, a
parental--or more specifically, patriarchal--figure who 'dominates,
controls and subdues wild ferocious beasts" (Gilbert & Gubar in Tatar,
1999, p. 294). Here we see another male character who has limited input
in the story become a driving force for plot. It is the huntsman's
failure, his choice to save his "daughter" that escalates the queen's
anger, having ingested the innards of a wild boar instead of the girl's
own entrails.
Gilbert, S. and Gubar, S. Snow White and her wicked stepmother. In
Tatar, M. (1999). The Classic Fairy Tales. New York: W. W. Norton
& Co.
It's interesting to see how much the Disney renditions of classic fairy
tales have infiltrated our perceptions of what fairy tales are, and how
the plots of these fairy tales should unfold. I'll admit that when
beginning to read "Beauty and the Beast," I drew on my already establish
knowledge of the story and drew comparisons between that version and the
classic tellings. The two versions I found particularly interesting were
"The Pig King" as told by Giovanni Straparola and "The Tiger's Bride" as
told by Angela Carter.
What struck me about "The Pig King" first was the role the pig's mother
played in the pig's matrimonial pursuits. Did anyone else find it
intriguing that the mother of the girls the pig found infatuating didn't
protest after the pig murdered her first daughter. The second daughter
met the same fate as the first and it was only the difference in the
third daughter's countenance that allowed her to be shown the pig
without his swine hide. What I can't figure out, and I don't know if I
just misread, is why the pig chose to be a pig if he knew that he could
shed that skin. Why would he choose solely to appear as a man to his
wife and keep it secret from the rest of the world? So while the spell
was cast on him in the womb, the difference between this and the other
versions of the tale is that the beast character is capable of changing
between his human and beast forms at will.
The end of "The Tiger's Bride" is what struck me most. Where in most
stories, the prince takes the form of a human because someone loves him
for who or what he is on the outside, in "The Tiger's Bride," the
narrator ends up as a tigress, and doesn't seem too disturbed by this
change. What actually caught my attention was the way she became a
tiger. For cats, licking is the process by which they bathe themselves,
and sometimes each other. The narrator's transformation is a result of
being licked by the tiger, or bathed if you will, cleaning off her human
form such that she can exist in her true form.
Tatar, M. (1999). The Classic Fairy Tales. New York: W. W. Norton
& Co.
Most of the time, I can't decide whether I love Disney productions, or
abhor them. Some of the films produced by the company (and admittedly
other companies as well) are fantastic for teaching literary terms in a
manner in which my 8th graders can understand, but that doesn't make the
fact that the films are infused with stereotypes and cultural biases any
less disturbing.
Zipes in Tatar's The Classic Fairy Tales says that "Disney was a
radical filmmaker who changed our way of viewing fairy tales" (1999, p.
333). While this is true, there are other considerations to be made when
deciding if Disney's portrayal of these fairy tales was a legitimate
transformation from one medium to another or if Disney actually
bastardized the tales to suit his own whims.
When the printing press was invented, a shift from the fairy tales being
solely oral, to oral and printed occurred. At this time, Zipes says, the
written tale allowed readers to remove themselves from society to be
alone with a tale and that "this privatization violated the communal
aspects of the folktale, but the very printing of a fairy tales was
already a violation since it was based on separation of social classes"
(in Tatar, 1999, p. 335). What bothers me about this statement is the
author's choice of "violation" to describe what some view as
technological progress. The connotation of "violation" is clearly
negative, though without this process, there is no guarantee that
stories adapted from the oral traditions and their many variations,
would have survived.
While Zipes criticizes Disney's adaptations of fairy tales, that they
are self-serving and a desecration of the written tales, Disney used
these tales in the 1930s to "[touch] the lives of people during the
Depression" (in Tatar, 1999, p. 346). These adaptations, the
stereotyping and cultural biases portrayed in the films aside, holds
with the modifications made to oral tales when the needs of the
listening group changed. It is no different than being able to see
qualities of the English Romantics in Jane Austin's Pride and
Prejudice, of the Victorians in Bram Stoker's Dracula, or
criticism of American society in Aaron McGruder's cartoon The
Boondocks.
Zipes, J. Breaking the Disney Spell. In Tatar, M. ed. (1999). The
Classic Fairy Tale. New York: W. W. Norton & Co.
Through the stories told, and their variations, readers are allowed a
glimpse into the interactions between parents and children, and parents'
motivation for specific actions in regards to their children. Tatar
explains that "the desire for wealth motivates parents to turn their
daughters over to a beast points to the possibility that these tales
mirror social practices of another age" (1999, p. 27).
It seems that the story of "Beauty and the Beast" was used as a means,
an outlet for those women stuck in an arranged marriage, seeing their
husbands metaphorically as "beasts." These stories, especially those
that involve parents trying to convince--even to the point of
begging--people to marry their children, shows how preoccupied these
parents were either with bride-price, or giving into the whims of their
children.
Tatar discusses the de Beaumont version of "Beauty and the Beast"
specifically, stating that "Beauty and the Beast not only endorses the
importance of obedience and self-denial, but also uses the tale to
preach the transformative power of love..." (1999, p. 27). This
statement caught my attention because of the idea that loving someone
despite their faults causes them to appear better in one's eyes,
transforming them into the kind of person that they "should" be. In
terms of the story, this transformation is a physical one, where the
princes shed their monstrous skin and become the handsome prince that
they believe the princess deserves, suggesting that beauty is directly
associated with people of solid ethics and morals.
I think the animated film Shrek, which reverses the archetype, is
an equally interesting take on "the transformative power of love"
(Tatar, 1999, p. 27). This physically altering power changes both
characters into the ogre, the character often portrayed in an
antagonistic role. It is the goal of Shrek to take the archetype,
the formula everyone knows, and turn it on its head. Even the characters
are aware of the archetype--see Princess Fiona's surprise when the
result of her "true love's kiss" does not transform him into the
handsome prince, but transforms her into the monster as well.
Cox, P.F. (Producer) & Adamson, A. and Jensen, V. (Directors). (2001).
Shrek (Motion Picture). United States: Dreamworks.
Tatar, M. (1999). The Classic Fairy Tales.. New York: W. W.
Norton & Co.