I loved Cinderella. I had ugly younger brothers, not ugly stepsisters, but that just reinforced the myth for me, because my parents were manifestly unfair about the boys and housework.
But, and this is the thing, Cinderella was all about the dresses and winning over the siblings (she got to go to three balls in increasingly magnificent dresses in the Ladybird Best Loved Tales Series 606d). The romance was irrelevant except as part of Cinderella's revenge.
Even at six, I knew the Prince did not matter.
Looking back on it now, it is obvious. He is an idiot.
- He doesn't recognize the woman he has been dancing with all night. Where was he looking for heaven's sake? Not at her face, obviously.
- He thinks that shoe size matters. Great basis for choosing a long-term partner!
- Sleeping Beauty (rather says it all, doesn't it!). The Prince fights his way through a densely-woven hedge of spines to fall in love with a woman in a coma (obvious psychoanalytic interpretations). Some versions of the story have the Prince effectively raping Sleeping Beauty while she sleeps. What a hero!
- Snow White's prince also falls in love with a passive heroine - she's dead and lying in a crystal coffin. Necrophilia is not actually illegal in the United States as a whole, but the Prince had better not take his loved one's coffin to Nevada where he could get life-imprisonment.
Presumably that could only happen if they had equally dense princesses, but that's another post.
No comments:
Post a Comment