How to Update A Fairy Tale : Part Two

Love at first sight? No thanks. 

In almost every fairy tale you care to name, as soon as the prince and princess (or equivalent) meet, it’s love at first sight. They don’t even have to talk (in Sleeping Beauty and Snow White’s case, only one of them has to be awake) and they’re both quite happy to marry, have babies and live happily ever after. How often do characters in modern romances fall in love at first sight? In ‘When Harry Met Sally’, twenty years elapse before the pair even realise they have feelings for each other. In ‘You’ve Got Mail’, they talk for months but can’t stand the sight of each other in real life. No modern reader will accept the two main characters falling in love at first sight. Use whatever romantic plot device you fancy, but they’re going to have to really connect before we can believe in, and care about, their love story.

Less is more

A lot of modern fairy tales take the original story and just ‘convert’ the main features into a modern form. How many modern versions of Cinderella replace the lost shoe with a mobile, or a purse, or some other modern girl accessory? The prince’s ball is replaced with a high school dance, or a work do, or something equally banal. This makes the story oddly jarring sometimes; some elements of fairy tales just don’t fit with modern life. Why is Cinderella never helped by social services? Why doesn’t Red Riding Hood just get a taxi over to her granny’s house? How did the 3 Little Pigs all get planning permission at the same time? It’s also incredibly predictable.

A far more subtle and effective way of retelling fairytales is to take the original elements as an influence, but not let them dictate your story. Cinderella can grow up and move out of her stepmother’s house before she meets her Prince Charming; it doesn’t take away from the magic of the story. Another way of dealing with the difficulties of translating these classic stories to the modern age is to take the original elements as symbolic; for example, Snow White’s stepmother, in the original, demands her heart on a platter. Maybe in a modern retelling, she breaks Snow White’s heart in some way, or takes a heart shaped necklace from her. Don’t make the reference so subtle that a casual reader will miss the allusion, but there’s no need to overstate it either.

How To Update A Fairy Tale

How To Update A Fairy Tale; 

Fairy tales are as relevant today as they were when they were first told. They are constantly being retold, both on screen and in writing. Modern, or updated, versions appear all the time. Angela Carter’s ‘The Bloody Chamber, and other stories’ is a perfect example of the different types of retold fairy tales that appear. Some stories simply allude to the original fairy tale (in the first story, there is a statue of ‘The Little Mermaid’, some are direct retellings, such as ‘The Company of Wolves’, and some are more modern versions, such as ‘The Courtship of Mr Lyon’. Often, writers attempt to translate the original fairy tale directly into the present, but the change in social conventions and the development of new technology necessitates some work to make sure the new version isn’t laughable. I’ve come up with some key things that need to be changed for a modern fairy tale to work.

Modern Story, Modern Heroine

The role of women in society has changed an awful lot since the times of Han Christian Anderson and the Grimm brothers. Snow White may be lovely both in looks and character, but she is utterly helpless. She is content to just sit and wait to be rescued, first by the dwarves and then by a handsome prince (who she has no qualms about marrying after only meeting him once). Will this appeal to a modern reader? Not a chance. A modern heroine is independent and thinks for herself, and while she might need rescuing she’ll certainly make an attempt on her own account. There’s really no need for her to be the most beautiful women in the world, either; a modern women might appreciate a heroine she can empathise with. 

Next post:

Love at first sight? No thanks.

Less is More.

Chekhov's Gun; How to and How not to use it

Literary techniques, and their weird and wonderful names (bilsdungroman hardly rolls off the tongue) fascinate me. For one thing, it makes you sound like an absolute genius when you can comment on the use of incluing, or leitwortstil in a text. They're also incredibly interesting in how specific they can be, and sometimes in where they come from. Chekhov's Gun is an example of this; Chekhov advised that if you have a rifle on the stage in Act One, it should be fired in a later act. Otherwise, leave it out of the staging. This literary technique is both an example of foreshadowing (in that a seemingly unimportant object becomes significant later on) and minimalism, in that Chekhov advises that nothing should be mentioned that is not significant to the overall plot. Chekhov's gun is a technique that appears again and again, in film, television, literature and comic books. Sometimes the technique is used effectively - the "gun" is subtle enough so it comes as a surprise when it's involved, but noticeable enough for us to have the "Ohhhhhhh" moment when we realise we should have known all along. Sometimes it's ineffective; it's too obvious when first mentioned, or too subtle for us to even notice it at all.

Some effective uses of this technique are in 'The Hobbit' and 'The Lord of the Rings' and in the 'Harry Potter' series. In 'The Hobbit', the Ring Bilbo obtains from Gollum is a magical novelty; in 'The Lord of the Rings', it's the most important object in the entire story and the central plot point. There are a lot of examples of Chekhov's Gun in Harry Potter. To name but a few, the Deluminator which opens the first Harry Potter book becomes a significant object in the last, and the cursed necklace which Malfoy examines in the second book is used by him as a murder weapon, four books later. The time between the first appearance of the 'gun', and its significant second appearance in these examples is particularly skilful.

In the Alex Rider books, and in several James Bond books and films, the spy is given several gadgets designed to help him. These gadgets are coincidentally EXACTLY what the spy will need in his next mission. Either the gadget designers are psychic, or this is a very poor use of Chekhov's Gun.

Can we trust Nick?

Having recently read 'The Great Gatsby' for my American Lit class, some points came out in the class discussion and lecture on the book; the main focus of both was Gatsby; is he so great? What does he want? But someone raised an interesting point about Nick, questioning whether he was a reliable narrator. I decided to take another look at the text with this in mind.

 Point One;

Nick does not hesitate in providing us with other characters' versions of events, and never questions their validity. For example, he is told of Gatsby's love affair by Jordan and presents her narrative to us unquestioningly; how do we know we can trust Jordan? If Nick trusts this so implicitly, what else might he take on trust, and therefore present to us as true?

Point Two;

Subjectivity; Nick does not judge Gatsby at all, despite his many actions which might lead another character to form an entirely different view of him. Like attempting to steal another man's wife away, for example.  He consistently calls Gatsby, well, great - is he really? Likewise, he is not particularly fond of Tom and therefore is disposed to paint him in a negative light; can we really trust what Nick says about other characters?

Point Three;

He is recounting this story from three years or so onwards. How can we trust that his memory remains utterly accurate, to the exact word of every sentence every person speaks? 'The Great Gatsby' is a reconstruction of Nick's memories, rather than an accurate record of the narrative.

Point Four;

 On page 25, a curious lapse occurs. We jump from a scene in an elevator, to "I was standing beside his bed and he was sitting up between the sheets, clad in his underwear." No explanation is given for this gap, and shortly another follows: "lying half asleep in the cold lower level of the Pennsylvania Station." Does Nick not remember what happened here? Or is he purposely withholding information from us? Either way, he proves himself an unreliable narrator and we are warned to treat his narrative with caution.

Interesting Points about the Epic of Gilgamesh

This was an exercise we had to do for a class, for my Introduction to Literature Module, so I thought I'd summarise, and post up what I found when I read through 'The Epic of Gilgamesh.' Quick bit of background; the Epic of Gilgamesh is one of the oldest texts in the world, translated from carvings on 12 clay tablets, and it focuses on a quest undertaken by Gilgamesh himself, and his companion Enkidu. Gilgamesh is something like 2/3 god, 1/3 man, and Enkidu was originally created as a beast like man in order to destroy Gilgamesh. Instead, he was 'tamed' by a harlot, and becomes Gilgamesh's closest friend. In the undertaking of the quest, Enkidu dies, and Gilgamesh grieves. The text ends with a version of the 'Great Flood' narrative found in practically every culture across the world.


1) Why does Gilgamesh exist?


Some motive is given for Gilgamesh's creation; "kingship is your destiny", "to be the darkness and light of mankind", but we are given very little information about his creation. There is no narrative, no story to it; this contrasts with the typical long and complex backstories given to classical heroes. In Greek literature, for example, a 'godchild' character will always have his origin and history woven into the narrative. Achilles, another great heroic character, has his origin and birth clearly defined within narrative; his mother, the nymph Thetis, was pursued by both Poseidon and Zeus until a prophesy foretold that her child should far surpass his father. Thus, Thetis was left free to marry Peleus and conceive Achilles. We know all this, and much more, about Achilles's origins but we know almost nothing about Gilgamesh's. 

2) Parallels with the Bible

Woman, in the form of "the harlot" gives Enkidu wisdom, makes him "like a god" with her "woman's art." There's clear parallels between this and the story of Eve, who with her gift of the apple brings Adam "divine wisdom." When we read on a little further, the parallels become even clearer; the harlot clothes Enkidu, takes him from his home (which was like paradise to him) just as Eve makes Adam aware of his naked state, and causes both of them to be thrown out of Eden. Interestingly, the "harlot" is seen as a much more positive character than Eve. Eve is the root of man's downfall, the original sinner, but the harlot is seen as Enkidu's savior, a character with great wisdom and intelligence. This highlights the way culture shapes texts; literary historians have theorized that in the time of Gilgamesh, women were seen as much more independent and strong than at the time of the Bible's composition. 
     There are a few other parallels with the Bible; the "seven years of drought" that will require "saved grain" is repeated in the story of Joseph, son of Jacob, in the Bible, as anyone who has seen the musical could tell you.