Les Contes de Perrault, by Charles Perrault

When we think of classic fairy tales, those of us in the U.S.A. often conjure up images of Disney movies, Shrek, or even the Grimm's Fairy Tales we heard as children.  While these are certainly relevant sources, we often leave out Charles Perrault, who delivered Mother Goose herself to the 17th century.

Like most other fairy tale writers, Perrault did a great deal of "collecting" of common fairy tales of his day.  Oftentimes, these stories were shared orally, and were passed through the generations by way of storytelling.  This would obviously lead to problems of continuity; it is thanks to fairy tale "collectors" like Perrault, the Grimm brothers, and Andrew Lang that we have many of these stories with us today in the ways we have come to commonly recognize them.

That being said, I would argue that many fairy tales lack a single, obvious, original author.  Beauty and the Beast, for example, has elements that appear as far back as ancient Rome in accounts of "a feast that served itself".  While we all can recognize that scene in a snap, the rest of the story as we know it would have been entirely different in the ancient world.  It wasn't until the mid-18th century that the modern version of this fairy tale (of movie acclaim) would be penned by Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve.  Even since that time, the story has evolved into something new and different.  Guys, there are songs now.

It seems to me that every culture worldwide has some type of Cinderella story.  In China alone there are differing versions but, perhaps the best known is that of Beauty and her one evil stepsister, Pockface.  (I know.)  The Algonquin people have the story of The Rough-Face Girl, whose cruel sisters force her to stoke the fire day and night, causing sparks to permanently mar her hair and skin.  Ultimately, her inner beauty wins when the Invisible Being sees her for the kindhearted person she is and marries her, shaming her sisters and their inner ugly.

Even our own western tradition has different iterations of this classic tale.  The Disney movie is based on the version of Charles Perrault (France) while the Grimm version (Germany) is much more gruesome and violent.  Personally, I'm really glad that Cinderella's bird friends didn't peck out the eyeballs of her lying stepsisters in the movie.  It would have been a hard sell to the kids of the 1950s if the stepsisters cut off toes or heels to fit into the glass slipper while cute mice sang songs about making a lovely dress for Cinderelly.

[Side note: Cinderella gets her nickname because she sits among the cinders of the fire and is dirty as a result.  The nickname is similar in French: Cendrillon.  However, the nastier of the two stepsisters in Cendrillon actually calls her Cucendron, which could be roughly translated as "Cinderass".  This is my favorite thing in all of fairy tale bitchiness.]

The contes (tales) that I read in this particular publication appear in their original French.  I have listed them below in both their French and English titles.  You will likely recognize most of them, though many are not widely known to English speakers.

Les Contes de Perrault (The Tales of Perrault)

1. Cendrillon (Cinderella)
2. Le Chat Botté (Puss in Boots)
3. Les Fées (The Fairies)
4. Le Petit Poucet (Tom Thumb)
5. Riquet à la Houppe (Riquet [proper name] with the Tuft [of hair, like a cowlick])
6. La Barbe Bleue (Blue Beard)
7. La Belle au Bois Dormant (Sleeping Beauty [of the Woods])
8. Les Souhaits Ridicules (The Ridiculous Wishes)
9. Petit Chaperon Rouge (Little Red Riding Hood)

Common themes I have noticed throughout these nine contes would include what we often think of with fairy tales:  Things aren't always what they seem.  Kindness triumphs over cruelty.  Appearances don't mean everything (with a caveat, explained in a moment).  These are all good lessons.

We must, of course, make some allowances for fairy tales.  They are often, by nature, the antithesis of our modern values.  Take, for instance, the notion that nearly every happy ending takes place with a wedding between relative strangers who fall instantly in love.  Obviously, this is not realistic.  Critics would cite this as problematic, but I don't feel so quick to point it out as a flaw.  We are, after all, willing to suspend our disbelief enough to allow for a talking cat with boots (OMG ADORABLE!!!) or a young girl who can fall asleep for 100 years and wake up without bedhead or dragon breath.  

While I can swallow the weddings equating to happy endings, I do struggle with some of the blatant misogyny apparent in these stories.  Remember how we said that "appearances don't mean everything"?  Evidently, this only applies to inanimate objects.  Without fail, the victimized female protagonists are always beautiful, in spite of their trashy, poor people clothes.  Even the young princess who is known throughout the kingdom for being pretty but as dumb as a rock (Riquet à la Houppe) comes out on top.  Her smart (but ugly) twin sister is forgotten within a sentence of being labeled as jealous once the pretty sister becomes smart.  You see, the good fairy who was present at their birth said that the pretty girl could magically become smart...but there wasn't really anything she could do for the UGLY smart one.  I mean, gross.  Her magic powers can only do so much.  The happy ending?  The pretty (and now smart, too!) sister gets married to the protagonist.  The (always) smart sister remains ugly, and is therefore not an integral part of the story.  So, I guess that means that, for women and girls, value is determined by beauty.  But we musn't forget that appearances don't mean everything...right?  

Fairy tales like these Contes de Perrault are of their time.  They are typically written by men -sometimes women- who were willing to perpetuate the the untruths at the base of the patriarchy so pervasive to their respective cultures.  Nevertheless, while the stories we tell are greatly indicative of our values and world views, they also help to shape us.  I like to think that we can laugh at the absolute absurdity of a mother who intentionally "got to work quickly [having children], and didn't make less than two at a time" (Le Petit Poucet).  

Despite these frustrating nuances, I still love the classic princess fairy tale stories.  I am a product of the 1980s-1990s Disney Princess Explosion and, to this day, I thoroughly enjoy a poofy dress and a tiara, but you know I'll be wearing sensible shoes.