Read Into It: Wildwood Dancing

Wildwood Dancing

by Juliet Marillier


You know what’s annoying about most traditional fairy tales? Well… lots… but mostly the lack of details and character development, especially in female characters.  Even when the female character is the protagonist, she rarely has any depth, power, or agency of her own. Booooooo.

One of my favorite literary fairy tales is “The Twelve Dancing Princesses,” and my favorite version (so far) is Wildwood Dancing by Juliet Marillier.

This retelling deviates from the original quite a bit.  There were many alterations I enjoyed and understood the reasoning behind.  I appreciated the choice to reduce the number of sisters to five – it made a lot of sense.  It would be difficult to delve completely into the character of each sister if there were so numerous.  With twelve, there is less of an opportunity for each to have a unique character, and they devolve into more simple cardboard cutout representations of some unique interest, trait or feature.  With fewer sisters, the reader can more easily connect to and distinguish between the sisters as they each have their own unique characteristics. The characters of the sisters were not the only things given more detail and development.

Relationships in general had more depth and believability. I specifically always enjoy when a romance is fleshed out and seems more natural and realistic.  In this version of the story, the heroine knows her romantic prospect very well (even if she knows him mostly as her loyal pet frog.)  The relationships between the family were also more detailed and depicted well.  I also enjoyed that the story was more about the sisters discovering their own agency rather than about being caught by a male power.  The book had a strong feminist message, and I enjoyed that, as it is a rarity in most classic fairy tales.

This version is also exciting because of the backdrop – the story is set in a specific historical place and time (albeit with a bit of magic thrown in).  It takes place in Transylvania, and because the setting is so authentic, it adds to the realism of the characters and their entire story.  The fanciful tale of fairies, vampires, magic lands and frog ‘princes’ has a stronger message because of its underlying structure and the very solid foundation on which it was based.  Marillier was able to utilize the elements of historical fact to shape and impact the fantasy elements, making them more believable.  I love the idea that a fairy tale, like a Shakespeare play, can often transcend any specific time and place for its setting.

My favorite update to this classic was Marillier’s choice to have the second sister be the protagonist. In such fairy tales, it is invariably the oldest or the youngest sister who receives the primary narrative attention.  I thought this was a great break from tradition! It was unexpected and gratifying to see an oft overlooked character get to be the heroine in the spotlight for once.  Second daughters everywhere, rejoice!


ALSO, the Faerie Tale Theatre version of this is SUCH FUN.

OMG whut this is on YOUTUBE now!!?!?!?

Or you can buy it online:

WOW this is the one I have, but I did NOT spend $150 on it!!!

https://www.amazon.com/Shelley-Duvalls-Faerie-Tale-Theatre/dp/B001AZIRV8/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1513406293&sr=8-2&keywords=fairy+tale+theater+shelly+duvall

I guess this is the thing now…

https://www.amazon.com/Faerie-Tale-Theatre-Shelley-Duvall/dp/B014FXKLKG/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1513406293&sr=8-1&keywords=fairy+tale+theater+shelly+duvall

What is the use of stories that aren’t even true?

What IS the use of stories that aren’t even true?


The oft-asked question in Salman Rushdie’s Haroun and the Sea of Stories is, “What is the use of stories that aren’t even true?”

While Rushdie’s book is described as an example of a more comical and light subdivision of the fantasy genre, each form of fantasy contains within it a variety of aspects that resonate within additional fantastical categories. Rushdie’s question can be applied to and answered through any genre of fantasy.

There is truth in every fictional story, and the uses of fictional stories, while dependent to some extent upon author intent and reader response, are, in fact, infinite.

If fictional stories had no use, why would anyone write fiction or fantasy? 

Storytellers may not be aware of their subtexts, attitudes, or perspectives about the purpose or benefit of their words and stories, but that does not mean they are not present.  While ideas about use may vary and differ, each author must believe that their storytelling will be put to some use or another.  These uses are often subjective, multifaceted, and numerous.  Just as an author may communicate many different ideas, meanings, and uses, readers may also interpret or superimpose many different ideas, meanings, and uses.  C.S. Lewis communicated tenants of Christian theology through many of his works, but he also reiterated the use of fantasy as a way for readers to address real-life issues, through a fantasy world to explore “emotional dilemmas (they) feel faced by in their everyday lives” (Rustin, 1987, p. 40).  The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe is clearly representative of the important use of fantasy as a tool to address cultural, societal, emotional, and psychological needs, understanding, and development – a prevalent perspective about fantasy’s value and use.

The primary, overarching importance of the use of children’s fantasy literature is the idea that the genre addresses and fulfills vital “psychological, cultural and aesthetic needs which are disregarded by most other forms of contemporary literature” (Oziewicz, 2008, p. 66). 

Fantasy allows the fears and worries of society to be addressed and explored, as well as providing a great deal of “potential as an emotional survival strategy” (Bharat, 2015, p. 305).  In addition, “stories can be a cohesive force in constructing a community” (Mukherjee, 1998, p. 175), a force that allows communities to overcome obstacles and experience positive growth and development.  Lloyd Alexander’s “The Grammar of Story” emphasizes this importance by detailing the ways in which words and storytelling can work magic.  Rushdie’s narrative in Haroun and the Sea of Stories provides valuable political and cultural implications about the intrinsic value and power of words and stories. This is just one narrative that articulates the importance of stories and storytelling and the ways in which they can be applied to resisting terror and oppression by conquering fears through living life instead of through grand, cosmic acts of courage.

Through the creation of a fantasy narrative such as this, an author can invent their own logic and use and incorporated it into each aspect of the story, so it has a sturdy base: “We don’t dig the foundation after the house is built” (Alexander, 1981, p. 10), and the fantasy world must have “identifiable and workable laws underpinning it” (Yolen, 1996, p. 173).  While each work of fantasy is unique, they are all bonded by their structure and interconnected in their capacity to encourage imaginative exploration and address very real concepts, dilemmas, and threats, such as the “tyranny of fear” (Bharat, 2015, p. 304).  New fears are constantly arising, and all types of fantasy literature can help to confront and explore these fears through large societal battles of terrorism and oppression as well as smaller, but no less important, battles of personal conflict, growth, and development.

Conflict is the dynamic element of any story, and the fate of the world can be affected by cosmic, mythopoeic quest and conflict as well as by the conflict-response behavior of a single person, as revealed through interactions with themselves, others, and the world around them.

While each fantasy story may be categorized according to a general consensus of its overall purpose, use, or tone, each fantasy story is an amalgam of diverse components that draw on a variety of ideas about the truth of untrue stories.  “What is the use of stories that aren’t even true?”  The use of Rushdie’s Haroun and the Sea of Stories is to answer this very question, and in many ways, this is the use of every work of fantasy literature.  Storytellers create illusions, and the truth in that illusion is “how thoroughly it convinces us of its reality; how strongly it resonates in our emotions; how deeply it moves us to new feelings and new insights.” (Alexander, 1981, p. 4).

Truth is not always convincing, and a fantasy story can help a reader to recognize and understand the truth in the world around them.

‘Untrue’ fantasy stories are incredibly valuable in an infinite number of ways.  Each fantasy genre, and each fantasy story, has unique and distinctive qualities.  In mythopoeic fantasy, adventure has momentous scale and consequences. However, while lighter fantasy genres may seem to lack cosmic battles of good versus evil, the adventures and battles still have consequences that are momentous to the characters experiencing them.

While mythopoeic fantasy suggests big answers to big questions, small answers to small questions are just as substantially cosmic to those affected by them.

A child can have an adult adventure that articulates hope for all humanity by the simple act of articulating the hope of one human. 

One human is a part of humanity, and the truth is that one child can change the world.


References

Alexander, Lloyd. (1981). The grammar of story. In Betsy Hearne and Marilyn Kaye (Eds), Celebrating children’s books: Essays on children’s literature in honor of Zena Sutherland. (pp. 3-13). New York: Lothrop, Lee, and Shepard Books.

Bharat, Meenakshi. (2015). Creative fear in Salman Rushdie’s Haroun and Luka: The ‘safe house’ of children’s literature. In Marvels & tales. (pp. 304-323).

Lewis, C.S. (1950). The lion, the witch, and the wardrobe. New York: Harper Collins.

Mukherjee, Meenakshi. (1998). Politics and children’s literature: a Reading of Haroun and the Sea of Stories. In Ariel: a Review of international English literature. (pp. 163-177).

Oziewicz, Marek. (2008). One earth, one people: The Mythopoeic fantasy series of Ursula K. Le Guin, Lloyd Alexander, Madeline L’Engle, and Orson Scott Card. New York: Simon Pulse.

Rowling, J.K. (1999). Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. New York: Scholastic.

Rushdie, Salman. (1990). Haroun and the sea of stories. New York: Penguin.

Rustin, Margaret and Michael. (1987). Narnia: an Imaginary land as container for moral and emotional adventure. In Narratives of love and loss: Studies in modern children’s fiction. (pp. 40-58). New York: Verso.

Strimel, Courtney B. (2004). The politics of terror: Rereading Harry Potter,” In Children’s literature in education. (pp. 35-52).

Yolen, Jane. (1996). Turtles all the way down. In Sheila Egoff et al. (Eds) Only connect: Readings on children’s literature. (pp. 164-174). New York: Oxford University Press.

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