12/07/2012

The Women of Disney's Renaissance: Not Such a Fairy Tale? Part II.

Today's post will investigate the general role of the fairy tale, from evaluating its structure and purpose, to examining who the tellers and listeners are.  It will go on to take a closer look at the tales of Beauty and the Beast and The Little Mermaid, and will discuss the themes and values of their past versions; exploring a post-feminist perspective in order to ascertain the differing portrayal of women.  This will provide a basis for a comparison between Disney's adaptations, and their literary predecessors.

I couldn't begin to state exactly when and where the fairy tale originated; I'm not sure anyone could for definite.  What is possible is to trace its influence, and its common conventions, as it passes from one generation to the next.

Before the arrival of the printing press in 1440, stories could only be shared by word-of-mouth, and it was up to the teller to ensure that these tales, and the messages that they contained, survived.  The purpose of the oral tale is similarly difficult to pinpoint, as there are many reasons for telling a story; to caution, instruct, advise, worship, and so on and, as the tales were spoken, they were liable to change depending on the narrator, and their motives. 

Kready discusses the function of early storytelling, noting that fairy tales were the leftover scraps of ancient myths, and were adapted to include people and places that the audience would be familiar with; the protagonists being replaced by local heroes.  In this way, it is likely that such stories could have been used as morale boosters, providing the poorer members of the community with the necessary motivations to carry on despite adversity, like their heroes.  Indeed, Kready maintains that the content of the myths were altered slightly, with the 'monstrous element modified' (2008:108), while the fantasy, and extraordinary feats of the heroes, were left in. 

Though these adaptations may have made the tales more appealing to the listener, as the relative ease with which the protagonist succeeds would convey hopes and aspirations within themselves, they are simultaneously suggestive of the origins of the 'happy ending' formula regularly found in fairy tales.

Stories evolved to fit their environment, and the differing values and attitudes of those who adopted them.  All the while, the identity of the teller was clear, as these tales had to be passed on directly; they could not be written down.  This changed with the 15th century innovation of the printing press, leading to an increase in literacy throughout the population; with this the oral tale began to go through significant alterations.

In the beginning, the subject matter of the fairy tale was condemned, as a result of its allegorical nature that could be interpreted in a number of ways, depending on the reader.  While fairy tales have always existed for the purpose of commenting on the behaviour of society, and alluding to the correct attitude to take, as well as the aforesaid objectives of trade, reverence, and support, once they were converted to literature, these ideas were regarded as too prescriptive.  It was believed that the morals of the tales would be taken literally, and that their hidden meanings were dangerous, almost sinister.  Hence, it was thought best that children not be permitted to read or hear fairy tales, in case the underlying principles affected their innocence. 

It was not until the 1820s, according to Zipes (1999:18), that children were allowed access to fairy tales, yet these were watered down versions, with the bulk of the intended significance removed.  Even so, fairy tales were still regarded as unsuitable for young readers, partly for the reason that, because of their derivation from the oral tradition, they were considered beneath the needs of the literate, and because the fantastical elements could lead to inappropriate behaviour, such as masturbation (1999:18).  If children were given permission to read fairy tales, these would probably be modified adaptations that contained safe, non-subversive connotations that could not be misinterpreted or, to use Zipes' words, the aim of these stories was 'the domestication of the imagination' (1995:25).

In opposition to the above mode of thinking, that fairy tales are harmful to children, Bettelheim's seminal work of the 1970s maintained that, in reality, such stories prove beneficial to the development of their young readers' psyches.  Akin to the Freudian style of psychoanalysis, where individuals are encouraged to make sense of their lives by overcoming seemingly impossible and daunting experiences, Bettelheim's theory instructs that the fairy tale teaches children that life is complex and, rather than trying to escape the inevitable, they must face each challenge head-on to achieve success:

Freud's prescription is that only by struggling courageously against what seem like overwhelming odds can man succeed in wringing meaning out of his existence.  This is exactly the message that fairy tales get across to the child in manifold form: that a struggle against severe difficulties in life is unavoidable, is an intrinsic part of human existence – and that if one does not shy away, but steadfastly meets unexpected and often unjust hardships, one masters all obstacles and at the end emerges victorious. (1991:8)

Fairy tales allow young readers to work through problems, and expand the capacity of, their conscious minds or, in Freudian terms, their egos, which alleviates stresses that may exist within the pre-conscious super-ego, or the unconscious id.  The general progression of a fairy tale's narrative; the hero's victory after overcoming adversities, gives physical form to the intangible id, and provides the child with coping strategies that correspond to those related to the needs of the ego and super-ego. 

Bettelheim believes that, rather than the whimsical, unreal qualities of a fairy tale causing harm to young readers, the fantasy operates as a safe location for understanding reality.  Without undergoing this practice, a child's ego may become so inhibited that underlying unconscious issues may never be dealt with, and could lead to permanently damaging their personality. 

Thus, the imaginative process is encouraged, as is the often concealed idea of the existence of evil, which is commonly addressed by fairy tales in their depiction of good and bad characters.  Malevolent individuals motivated by compulsions of greed, jealousy and lack, demonstrate to a child the real-life existence of like-minded, unsavoury people.  The strong delineation of moral and immoral behaviours, with little between the two, coincides with the polarised workings of a child's mind, as children are more inclined to recognise distinctive behavioural qualities, and favour or discriminate one over another, if they are clearly defined.  This juxtaposition of good and evil creates an ethical dilemma within the reader's conscious mind; they are provoked into doubting and then rejecting the incentives of the villain, while sympathising with the hardships of the hero, learning the basic principles of human virtue, or as Bettelheim puts it:

'The child makes such identifications all on his own, and the inner and outer struggles of the hero imprint morality on him.' (1991:9)

This conflict of right versus wrong is presented to the child from within the safe confines of a magical realm, and kept separate from reality by the simple act of closing a book after the story has been read.  Even if a tale is recited verbally, in the fashion of the oral tradition, without the symbolic closure of a book, the customary happy ending that has previously been discussed as engendering wish-fulfilment and hope, signifies further security, as the life of the hero is assumed to stretch before them indefinitely, which Bettelheim believes helps to decrease anxieties surrounding death. 

Another key aspect of Bettelheim's critique is his thoughts on the typical fairy tale device of the hero's quest for true love that, he claims, connotes the longing for unity and attachment that is shared by all.  The fact that the hero almost always succeeds in acquiring the object of his search helps to assure the reader that they too will find their heart's desire, which further allays fears of mortality, and of dying alone, as well as the dread of separation, in this case from the mother. 

To this end, the fairy tale works as a form of preparation for the realities of life, particularly for children, whose minds are especially susceptible to the content and framework of this genre.  The tendency of fairy tales to allude to certain morals and themes via ciphers and coded meanings instantly targets children, and corresponds to the way they rationalise problems.  It is this, and the knowledge that a story will end happily, that makes children trust and believe in fairy tales as sites of self-understanding, reassurance and, in the end, pleasure.  Alternative forms of teaching, that offer a more realistic perspective, do not benefit children to the same degree because, as Bettelheim notes, young minds are not capable of grasping non-figurative ideas; those that can not be broken down into a series of cohesive images:

'[…] realistic explanations are usually incomprehensible to children, because they lack the abstract understand required to make sense of them.' (1991:47-48)

Undoubtedly, the underlying principles behind the fairy tale's resonance with children are the same as those that make Disney films popular with this audience.  The colourful and cartoonish mise-en-scène of a Disney feature removes it from reality enough to make its motifs conceivable and within reach of a child's literal imagination, yet retains sufficient verisimilitude for its teachings to be applied to the real world.  As a result of their prior knowledge of the Disney canon, spectators are confident that the film they are watching will end happily; the hero will win out, and the evil will be banished.  Whatever its subject, a Disney film becomes like a fairy tale in itself, and its intentions to convey a particular polemic echoes the main objectives of fairy stories. 

When Disney becomes the teller of a fairy tale, as in the case of its adaptations of The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast, and combines its mode of address with that of its literary counterpart, it effectively becomes twice as powerful.  Young viewers accept what they see as truth because this is what they have always known; that Disney equals innocence and integrity, while the fairy tale denotes an understanding of reality, and the combined influence of the two institutions would be difficult for children to challenge.

Before Disney could take on the role of teller, the tales first had to be written, and then absorbed into public knowledge, which, in the case of Beauty and the Beast, was a long and complex process.  A number of critics and scholars are of the view that the story of Beauty and the Beast can be traced as far back as 150 A. D., (Warner, 1994 & Griswold, 2004) with the Roman fable of Metamorphoses, which featured the characters of Cupid, the first 'Beast', and Psyche as Beauty.  However, Griswold suggests that this was probably based on Greek oral folk tales, where Cupid's predecessor would have been Eros, and whose own ancestor would likely have been the transformed gods of Egyptian myth.  As it is impossible to determine the exact moment that Beauty and the Beast was created, this dissertation will use the fairly well-known and influential legend of Cupid and Psyche as a starting point for an analysis of the tale's progression.

In the Roman edition, Cupid is instructed by his jealous mother, Venus, to make the beautiful Psyche fall in love with a hideous creature but, upon seeing her, Cupid pricks himself with the enchanted arrow, and falls deeply in love.  Although attractive, and the daughter of a wealthy king, Psyche was never proposed to, and her parents were told to abandon her.  Eventually she finds her way to a magical castle, inhabited by invisible occupants, and is visited at night by the owner, who forbids her from seeing his true self.  Later, Psyche is persuaded by her visiting sisters that the reason for her husband's secrecy is that he is a monster, and that her only option is to kill him.  Psyche inadvertently wakes her husband, Cupid, and on seeing her disloyalty, and a knife in her hand, Cupid leaves.  Desperate to find him, Psyche asks Venus for help, and is set a number of tasks, of which she is successful.  Finally, Cupid discovers what is happening, and rescues Psyche from his mother's torment, before marrying her and turning her into an immortal goddess.

Warner writes that this early rendition inverts the characters of Beauty and Beast as, while Cupid's hidden identity sets him up as dangerous, he is in fact beautiful and kind.  On the other hand, Psyche is established as perfection in terms of her looks, but her personality is flawed, as she is easily led by her sisters to disregard Cupid's one rule, in order to satisfy her curiosity.  When it is put to her that her husband could be a monster, Psyche is prepared to protect herself, and her later search, and the completion of tasks, demonstrates the development of her character from selfish to selfless.  Accordingly, this story is one of change, particularly in the case of Psyche, a privileged woman who is asked to sacrifice her shallow beliefs as a means of benefiting herself; as it can not be forgotten that she becomes a goddess at the end of this tale, and the feelings of those around her.

Psyche, or Beauty, is the protagonist of this story, as the narrative concentrates on the modification of her personality, and her journey to find herself and her lover.  In contrast, Cupid as Beast is depicted as menacing and omnipotent, with the secrecy of his identity posing as a danger to Psyche's innocence and naïveté, which Warner suggests is the common take on this story when the narrator is female:

The Beauty and the Beast story is a classic fairy tale of transformation, which, when told by a woman, places the male lover, the Beast, in the position of the mysterious, threatening, possibly fatal unknown, and Beauty, the heroine, as the questor who discovers his true nature. (1994:275)

It is presumed by Warner that, as writers became aware of Beauty and the Beast, and the number of adaptations increased, its target audience became predominantly women.  Owing to the themes of female virtue and purity, and the fear of powerful, intimidating and, perhaps, aggressive men, the tale tended to connect with the fears of women, and it was largely this that resulted in the majority of the story's adapters being female.  Even though a version of the tale was published by Perrault in 1697, as part of his Mother Goose collection, it was not until the end of the 18th century, with the French writers Madames de Villeneuve and Le Prince de Beaumont, that Beauty and the Beast became the recognisable story that it is today. 

Villeneuve's version principally comments on society's attitudes towards marriage, and the patriarchal oppression of women.  As Warner proposes, it was customary for girls from this period to be forced into loveless marriage by their fathers, often to husbands that posed a physical or mental risk.  So Villeneuve's tale, which contains similar connotations to its Roman predecessor, addresses cultural issues that correspond to the current anxieties of its female consumers.

Madame de Beaumont's shorter tale, published 16 years after Villeneuve's, retains a similar narrative to the previous version, and instructs the reader to respect their family, and abide by the laws set to them by men.  In this story, Beauty is one of six children, though her brothers barely feature, and her relationship with her sisters is tenuous.  Being incredibly vain, Beauty's sisters are jealous of her looks, her kind persona and the male attention that she receives, yet she never retaliates towards their attitude, and appears to modify her behaviour to satisfy them.  When the girls' father leaves to try and reclaim his lost fortune, he tells his daughters that he will bring them each back a gift of their choice.  Naturally, the sisters choose expensive items, such as clothing and jewellery, but selflessly, Beauty desires nothing, as she knows that the money her father is due will barely cover the cost of her siblings' wishes.  Rather than admitting these concerns and making her sisters look selfish, Beauty merely asks for a rose:

"Since you are so kind as to think of me, (answered she,) be so kind as to bring me a rose, for as none grow hereabouts, they are a kind of rarity." Not that Beauty cared for a rose, but she asked for something, lest she should seem by her example to condemn her sisters' conduct, who would have said she did it only to look particular. (2008:3)
Here, de Beaumont insinuates that Beauty, as the youngest child, must sacrifice her beliefs and morals in order to appease the feelings and well-being of her family.  The story is focused on Beauty's appearance, which is referred to numerous times, and her placid, 'affable, obliging' (2008:2) and patient nature, and it seems that she is the personification of the ideal woman.  Moreover, Beauty epitomises the perfect daughter, remaining loyal to her father, and meekly following him to their new home in the countryside, where she takes on the role of the domesticated woman; cooking and cleaning for her family which, according to de Beaumont, even results in added health benefits for her:

'In the beginning she found it very difficult, for she had not been used to work as a servant; but in less than two months she grew stronger and healthier than ever.' (2008:2)

Ultimately, Beauty is figured as undergoing training to be the perfect housewife, with her subservience and desire to place the needs of others before her own proving useful later on in the narrative, when she meets Beast. 

Beauty's first meeting with Beast is a result of her father's punishment for taking a rose from the creature's garden; so what was an innocent request becomes the catalyst for the potential downfall of her and her family.  In payment for his crime, Beast demands that Beauty's father brings him one of his daughters, and sends the man home.  Upon hearing what has happened, and learning that it was her desire that caused this, Beauty accompanies her father to the Beast's castle, where she becomes his prisoner.  Initially, Beauty's life with Beast is full of fear, as she believes she will be eaten but, as time goes on, Beauty learns to tolerate this creature, who shows her nothing but kindness, and comes to realise that he is actually a gentleman. 

After three months of living with Beast, and refusing numerous marriage proposals, Beauty is allowed to go and tend to her ill father, as long as she promises to return to Beast in one week.  All the while she is with her father, Beauty worries about Beast being alone, and dreams that he is dying.  It is here that she decides that she does want to marry him, and reproaches herself for judging his looks over his compassion.  On arriving back at the castle, Beauty finds that Beast really is dying; his misery at losing her caused him to starve himself, and she agrees to marriage.  Beauty's acceptance results in the Beast's transformation into a handsome prince, and the pair wed; becoming king and queen. 

It is posited in this story's climax that Beauty's eventual marriage benefits her greatly, as she receives aristocratic status, and with it the expected advantages of wealth and status.  In reality, this partnership is a consequence of Beauty's submission and compliance to the oppressive rules of patriarchy.  Throughout the tale, Beauty has repressed her inner desires and wants to abide by the rules of the male-dominated society and, on the few occasions that she has asked for something she, or someone that she loves, is punished; even though any minute demands that she does make are always to help others. 


As a well-educated and happily married teacher, de Beaumont's tale educates her female students in the art of becoming textbook wives, which not only involves answering to men, but tolerating them and their potential faults, as this acceptance may lead to the unveiling of a good man.  As Warner observes:

[Madame de Beaumont is a] teacher raising her pupils to face their future obediently and decorously, to hear her pious wish that [they] should obey their fathers and that inside the brute of a husband who might be their appointed lot, the heart of a good man might beat, given a bit of encouragement [...]. (1994:293)
Warner maintains that de Beaumont's Beauty and the Beast sets the scene for the typical women of the Victorian era, whose purpose was to keep house, raise and tutor their daughters to be good and patient wives, and put the needs of their husbands first; at whatever cost.  Viewed from this angle, Beauty and the Beast's pre-cinematic versions strongly oppose the later, post-feminist stance on the portrayal of women, who are encouraged to adopt a more self-serving attitude, and liberate themselves from the constraints of male dominance in the home, workplace and wider society.  In accordance, female consumers of a contemporary adaptation of Beauty and the Beast may expect Beauty to be independent and self-motivated; a woman that would ensure that she alone was responsible for the meeting of her desires, and would choose to be with Beast because she loves him, and that this is the right decision for her.  

In 1837, the young Danish writer Hans Christian Andersen wrote The Little Mermaid which, though adapted numerous times for stage and screen, remains the only literary version of the tale.  Furthermore it is believed that, in contrast to Beauty and the Beast, The Little Mermaid is not a direct descendant of oral tales but, like the majority of Andersen's stories, was based on his personal experiences, and influenced by literary works.  In this case, Altmann and De Vos cite Foqué's Undine (1811); a romantic tale from Germany about a young sea-dwelling sprite who acquires a soul by marrying Huldebrand, the knight, is cited as The Little Mermaid's forefather.  Undine derives from the writings of the Swiss astrologer and alchemist Paracelsus, who told stories of the spirits of nature, one of them being Undine, who sacrifice their immortality in exchange for an eternal soul, as a result of their marriages to humans.

In Undine, the water spirit, or mermaid, does win the heart of Huldebrand, but he can not help feeling threatened, because she retains the magical abilities that she was born with.  Huldebrand is persuaded by his ex-lover to leave Undine and marry her instead, breaking Undine's heart, and her plea for him to remain forever loyal to her.  Unable to live without Huldebrand's love, Undine resorts to killing him, releasing her from his hold, and allowing her to return to the water without the burden of the soul that she had once deeply desired.
According to Altmann and De Vos, Undine's conclusion did not sit well with Andersen, who disliked the mermaid's reliance on the love and acceptance of others in order to gain her soul.  Instead, he judged that the future of the mermaid should rely on fate and chance, possibly stemming from his religious upbringing, and the hardships that he faced growing up:

I have not [...] allow[ed] the mermaid's acquiring of an immortal soul to depend on an alien creature, upon the love of a human being.  I'm sure that's wrong!  It would depend rather a lot on chance, wouldn't it?  I won't accept that sort of thing in this world.  I have permitted my mermaid to follow a more natural, a more divine path. (Andersen, 1837, in Altmann & Vos, 2001:178)
It is known that Andersen experienced a difficult childhood; his parents were very poor, and it is intimated by some critics that he struggled his entire life with the repression of homosexual feelings (Sells, 1995; Zipes, 1999).  He sought escapism by accompanying his grandmother to an old people's home, where he would listen to the telling of stories.  This proved to be Andersen's inspiration for becoming a writer and, after leaving home at 14 to earn money as a performer, he was sent to school at the age of 17 by a supporter.  Due to his family's poverty, and the fact that he was the oldest in his class, Andersen found fitting in at school similarly trying, but succeeded in his exams, and became a published author in 1829.

Set against this brief biography of Andersen, The Little Mermaid can be seen to carry undertones that concur with the reflections and incidents of his life.  To begin with, Andersen's mermaid dreams of seeing the world above the sea, but is forbidden by her father to do so until her 15th birthday.  In the meantime, she satisfies her curiosities by hearing her grandmother's stories of the humans, and passes the time by tending to a garden in which stands a marble figure of a man.  Already, similarities can be drawn between the character of the mermaid and Andersen, as both depend on the fascinating tales of their elders as forms of escapism.  In addition, the fact that the statue at the centre of the mermaid's garden is clearly marked as a 'handsome' and 'beautiful' (1994:40) man, symbolises Andersen's hidden love for the male form.

The mermaid's longing for access to the land, and of its associated wonder, excitement and freedoms, can be read as the writer's longing for upward mobility.  The mermaid's kingdom appears simple and rustic, perhaps referring to Andersen's poverty-stricken upbringing, while outside is described vividly as being full of colour, lights and people.  Hence, the contrast between Andersen's home life, and the existence that he wishes for; one of popularity, fortune and recognition, is demonstrated in the juxtaposition between the mer-world, and that of the humans. 

When the little mermaid first experiences life above the surface, she instantly falls in love with the landscape that she views, and a prince that she rescues from a shipwreck.  After this, she vows to spend the rest of her life with the prince, insisting that she would rather be mortal, and give up her preordained future of living for 300 years before becoming sea foam.  To this end, the mermaid makes a deal with the sea witch, and trades her voice for life as a human, with the proviso that, if she does not win the prince's love, she will be turned into foam on the waves. 

The loss of the mermaid's voice, and the physical pain that she endures when changing into human form, which feels 'as if a two-edged sword were going through her delicate body' (1994:54), denotes the mental torment that Andersen no doubt experienced as a result of his suppressed feelings.  The mermaid's lack of speech is particularly poignant, as it could suggest Andersen's inability to speak openly about his innate desires, and it may be this factor that led to his career as a writer, for he could at least feel the cathartic unburdening of these emotions through the experiences of his characters.  Whereas, the pain of the mermaid's transformation implies the difficulties that Andersen faced when moving from one realm to another; from the privacy and security of his home to the insecurity and scrutiny of the public domain, and the sacrifices that he indisputably would have made. 

The story of The Little Mermaid is one of oppression and repression, and of the failure to conform to society's norms.  The mermaid is oppressed by the rules of her father, and seeks liberation in the land above the sea, which appears to offer freedom and wish-fulfilment.  Yet, because of her inability to communicate in this patriarchal kingdom, and a lack of understanding of the 'real' world, the mermaid fails to make the prince fall in love with her, and her sacrifices effectively lead to nothing.

Andersen too was oppressed, by the conventions of the culture in which he existed, and the move into popularity and notoriety did nothing to alleviate the repression of his inner beliefs, in fact, it would have made it more difficult for him to be himself; causing him to give up his true self for his love of writing.

Like Beauty, the little mermaid is unable to fulfil her wishes without the assistance of others and, although she does escape the dominance of her father, she has to lose the markers of her identity; her voice and tail, to do so.  When she does achieve her goal of living among the humans, she is treated as an outcast, an Other that literally can not speak the language and, in a similar vein to Beauty, ends up becoming a victim of her needs.  Therefore, while the mermaid may initially be regarded as taking a proactive stance in changing her life, this process is turned into a punishable act, and her selfish pursuit of freedom from the security and sanctity of the sea is met with pain and, finally, death.

Whether these depictions of Beauty and the mermaid change with Disney's contemporary re-workings of the tales will be examined in the next post where, among other critiques, Propp's theory on the functions of the fairy tale will be used to ascertain exactly what changes have been made in the transition from literary to cinematic narrative, and for what purpose.

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