Retellings Beautiful and Beastly

Classifying Fairy Tales

On Tuesday my new picture book retelling of a Grimms' fairy tale, Hans My Hedgehog, is coming out, so I thought I'd tell you a little about its history and a lot about the retelling of a more famous story, "Beauty and the Beast." What is the history of a particular fairy tale, and how did it come to take its current shape?

Folklorists actually classify the stories into types, which make sense when you realize how many variations of the same basic plot can be found in different countries. Stories have traveled the world with traders and immigrants for centuries. For example, you can find Cinderella variations set in China, Egypt, Ireland, Mexico, and the American South, among other regions and lands. The most well-known approach to classifying folk and fairy tales is the Aarne-Thompson system, first published by Finnish folklorist Antti Aarne in 1910 and revised more than once by American Stith Thompson.

For example, under Animal Tales, Wild Animals, we have 99 story types, including notable offerings like "Biting the foot" (#7) and "Calling the three tree names" (#9). Some story types are found in more than one country, such as "Search for the lost husband" (#425A), listed under Supernatural or Enchanted Relatives, Husband, and found in Romanian, Scottish, Italian, Spanish, Norwegian, Greek, and Mexican variations.

"Hans My Hedgehog" also falls under Supernatural or Enchanted Relatives, Husband (#441), "In enchanted skin." According to noted folklorist Jack Zipes, the Grimms mostly used a version recounted to them orally by a woman named Dorothea Viehmann, who was married to a tailor and lived in a village near Kassel in Germany. There are other German versions, however, such as "The Wild Boar" and "The Bristly Child." (Zipes, The Great Fairy Tale Tradition, Norton 2001.)


From Apuleius to Cocteau

"Beauty and the Beast" has a more complex history. Did you know it was based on Roman (and therefore, quite possibly Greek) mythology? Now it has an AT classification of #425C (also Supernatural or Enchanted Relatives, Husband), but it first comes to our attention as a story told in a book called The Golden Ass by Roman writer Apuleius (second century AD). The couple in the story are Cupid (Eros) and Psyche. You can get a picture book retelling of Cupid and Psyche by M. Charlotte Craft, illustrated by Kinuko Y. Craft. (Though you may dislike the theme of "curious girls get in big trouble.")

The story of Cupid and Psyche was reinvented in France by La Fontaine, by Coneille and Molière as a play/ballet, and in at least five variations by Madame D'Aulnoy in the late 1600s. At the time, fairy tale retellings were very fashionable among wealthy Parisians. In fact, Madame D'Aulnoy coined the name "fairy tales" with the publication of one of her books, "Les Contes de Fées" (1697).

Next to adapt the tale was Madame Gabreille de Villaneuve, whose version set the standard for the plot as we recognize it. Three more French adapters tried their hand at the story: Madame Leprince de Beumont, Countess de Genlis—who reinvented it as a play called Beauty and the Monster (1785), and Jean-François Marmontel—who made it the libretto of an opera scored by André Modeste Grétry (1788). (Sources: Zipes again, plus Wiki.) Is this all starting to blur together for you? Suffice it to say, the story was told and retold in literary versions in France for about a century, and this was all back when Walt Disney's twice-great-grandfather was still a twinkle in his thrice-great-grandfather's eye.

What's lost here, of course, is the storyteller who told the tale to listeners around the fire before Roman writer Apuleius came along. Though I suspect Madame D'Aulnoy's tale, "The Ram," was at least partly responsible for transforming a hunky Greek god into a misshapen beast.

Keep in mind, then, that when we talk about purity of sources, we are looking at two long series of transformations—one taking place in the oral storytelling tradition (making its way across continents) and the other taking place in the literary fairy tale tradition, exemplified by collectors/adapters such as the Brothers Grimm, Madame D'Aulnoy, Norwegians Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe, and another famous French reteller, Charles Perrault.

My favorite variant of "Beauty and the Beast" is actually the Norwegian story retold by Asbjørnsen and Moe, "East of the Sun and West of the Moon." As another folklorist, Maria Tatar, explains, "'Unlike the French 'Beauty and the Beast,' this tale includes a coda in which the daughter has to undertake a journey, outwit a rival, and demonstrate her domestic worthiness" (Tatar, The Annotated Classic Fairy Tales, Norton 2002). The quest in "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" gives us a more active and determined heroine, even if it does end up with her having a shirt-washing contest with a troll princess. (There's magic and blood involved, which helps.)

Jumping to the 20th and 21st centuries, we find the famous French film version by Jean Cocteau (1946). And of course, a number of picture book and MG/YA retellings.


Beauty and the Beast

MERCER MAYER is best known for his book, There's a Nightmare in My Closet, his Little Critter stories, and his illustrations for John D. Fitzgerald's Great Brain Books, but he also illustrated fairy tales, including this one. Mayer does interesting, contemporary things with perspective, cinematically thrusting characters' faces into the foreground in certain spreads. The work is ornate and intense, full of twisted trees and the suffering of a lion-like Beast. The storytelling is detailed and appealing. A classic retelling of the tale, especially as compared to some of the more docile later versions.

British author-artist JAMES MAYHEW illustrated a retelling by PHILLIPA PEARCE. Mayhew's soft-edged style emphasizes the mystery and enchantment of the tale. Like Mayer's, his Beast is leonine, only with a lot more mane. The final spread is especially nice. Pearce's retelling is clear enough to work as a read-aloud for relatively young children.

Yes, it's a JAN BRETT book without decorative borders! This retelling (by the illustrator) is more mannered than some of the others, with nice touches like all of the servants being animals. In a move away from the lion approach, Brett's Beast is a boar, which makes him extra beastly. A single piece of silhouette art about three-fourths of the way in works well. And take a look at those gowns and hairstyles! I found it interesting that the story is told in summary until the merchant steals the rose, when we start getting some dialogue. The retelling is competent, though the illustrations are better.

ANGELA BARRETT is one of my favorite illustrators. Her Beauty and the Beast is retold by Brit Max Eilenberg at some length, entrancingly. The artwork is often small, serving as a backdrop to the text, but when the larger pieces come they tend to be striking. Barrett makes her Beast a narrow, black, cat-like creature with a touch of demon and a sweeping brush of tail. Be sure to look at some of the details of the strange home the artist envisions for the Beast. (See illustration above.)

Well-known middle grade fantasy writer LAWRENCE YEP teamed up with illustrator KAM MAK to give us a Chinese version of the story, The Dragon Prince. The beast here is an enchanted dragon prince and, in a motif that turns up in other folktales, one of the heroine's malicious sisters manages to take her place for a time. Yep is a very good storyteller, of course.

There is also a small edition of the Beauty and the Beast story retold by SAMANTHA EASTON and illustrated by RUTH SANDERSON. (Sanderson is known for painting from live models, ordinary people.) I'm not crazy about the trim size and the retelling isn't particularly amazing, but some of the paintings are quite nice. Sanderson goes with the lion look for her Beast.

BARRY MOSER teams up with Nancy Willard (who won the Newbery in 1982 for her poetry collection, A Visit to William Blake's Inn) to create a novella-length Beauty and the Beast. Moser's stark pen-and-ink pieces give a darker feel to the story than it would otherwise have. Some of them resemble portraits—the Beast reminds me of Mr. Hyde and is the scariest in this entire bunch of books. Naturally, Willard's retelling is masterful.

Recognized paper artist ROBERT SABUDA has done "A Pop-up Book of the Classic Tale," an intricate rendering with a stained glass look.

As for MG/YA versions, Newbery medalist Robin McKinley has retold the story twice, once in Beauty and again in Rose Daughter. Alex Flinn sets the tale in a modern city with her book, Beastly (recently made into a movie), while Donna Jo Napoli chooses a Persian—and then French—setting for Beast, a mature retelling recommended for older teens.


East of the Sun, West of the Moon

MERCER MAYER illustrated the Norwegian version of this story, as well, with his wife Marianna doing the retelling. The paintings, one per spread, are rich and show a Russian/Eastern European influence. Some have a slightly static feel, more decorative than active, but others have more drama, and all combine beautifully to do the story justice. Mayer's troll princess is priceless, and his wife's retelling is clear and compelling. I was surprised to note that Mayer deliberately went with part of "The Frog Prince" in the early pages of the story rather than using the more traditional Norwegian bear as an alarming bridegroom.

P.J. LYNCH has done some beautiful illustrations for classics such as A Christmas Carol and The Gift of the Magi and for fairy tales such as The Snow Queen and The Steadfast Tin Soldier. (His artwork for Amy Hest's When Jessie Came Across the Sea is also lovely.) Note that the retelling is straight from Asbjørnsen and Moe, or at least, from the 1859 translation by Sir George Webb Dasent. It's a more detailed rendition than we might expect to see today, but it's very well done. There's a rather pensive feel to Lynch's heroine, and his North Wind practically storms off the page. I also like the striking use of the polar bear and an illustration that shows the lassie alone in a dark wood. As for the troll princess, she actually gives Mayer's troll a run for her money. Watch for the shirt-washing scene, where the spread is positively overflowing with hideous trolls.

BARRY MOSER worked with Nancy Willard again on this story, or rather play. The little-known script in book form is 61 pages long and could, of course, be acted out by a school class. Some of the dialogue is written in rhyme. It's a quirky but well-crafted version of the tale.

GISELLE POTTER illustrated a Greek variation of "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" that I've mentioned on Book Aunt in the past, Mr. Semolina-Semolinus. The retellers are Anthony L. Manna and Christodoula Mitakidou. After a unique start which completely bypasses the beast section—replacing it with a princess named Areti who cooks up her own boyfriend out of semolina, sugar, and almonds—we get the last section of the Norwegian story, more or less. Areti goes on an arduous quest to save her beloved from the selfish queen who has stolen him. This clever, slyly funny and rollicking tale makes a few words go a long way.

LAUREL LONG and JACQUELINE K. OGBURN tell the story with a twist, too, in The Lady and the Lion, illustrated by Long. (See also their previous collaboration, a gorgeous tale called The Magic Nesting Doll.) Lush, Middle Eastern-inspired paintings complement a story in which an evil enchantress kidnaps the lion after he is turned back to a man. The lady rescues her prince in a rather truncated version of the quest and confrontation from the Asbjørnsen and Moe version. You'll find that Ogburn's retelling is more spare than some of the others in this pleasing take on the Beauty and the Beast story. (See illustration above.)

Ice by Sarah Beth Durst, East by Edith Patou, and Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow by Jessica Day George are three notable MG/YA versions of "East of the Sun, West of the Moon."


And So...

Traditionally, the story of Beauty and the Beast has been used to teach girls to be self-sacrificing or to stifle their curiosity. The Romans and then the French certainly seemed to appreciate those lessons. In our day, we emphasize Beauty's loyalty to and patience with an unappealing, unhappy young man. The meta-lesson has been said to be about the so-called gentle sex taming the rougher one, but ultimately, I think we as a culture love the story for reasons of simple human kindness. And don't forget Beauty's courage!

As for Hans My Hedgehog, he's a close cousin to Beauty's Beast, only his story includes more peasant humor and class conflict. (The original shows a king tricking Hans because he can't read.) What kind of girl would marry a young man who is half hedgehog? An honorable one. And the princess's integrity pays off when the spell on her prickly husband is broken.

All of us feel like beasts sometimes, and all of us hope to be loved for our hearts, for the truth of who we are. Perhaps any time two people form a match, the answer for men and women alike is to look for beauty within the beast.

Update: Two more books have come up in the comments. Thanks to Rebecca Donnelly for reminding me of a Barefoot Books version of "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" (with two other tales mixed in) called The Princess and the White Bear King, retold by Tanya Robin Batt and illustrated by Nicoletta Cecolli. And Megan tells us about East of the Sun & West of the Moon, retold and illustrated by László Gál, which she says is very colorful and dreamy.

Feeling Kinda Crazy: Three Unusual Picture Books

The fact is, sometimes a book appeals to us, not because it's just the right thing to read to Jack and Jill Averagechild, but because it isn't. Here are a few unique picture book selections:

The Rock & Roll Alphabet by Jeffrey Schwartz, illustrated with photos by Chuck Boyd

I couldn't resist getting a review copy of this one. I mean, how cool is that? Granted, I don't think this book is really about teaching 4- and 5-year-olds the alphabet, but I think it could be a hoot for teaching 8- and 9-year-olds a little about American music.

I recently studied music history with a high school senior, and since he's an aspiring rocker, we spent a lot of time on American popular music. It's a rich history, building on things like the blues of Langston Hughes's day and the Celtic music that made its way to the Appalachian mountains long before Elvis was born.

Which brings us to Chuck Boyd, a photographer who worked with the rock stars of the 60's and 70's. This book was created in his honor by Jeffrey Schwartz, a historian specializing in rock and roll in general and Chuck Boyd's photography in particular.

Each letter of the alphabet in the book represents a rock star or a band, while every two pages of text comprises a rhymed couplet. For example, the first two pages read, "A is for Aretha, oft referred to as the Queen" and "B is for The Beatles in their 'Yellow Submarine'."

Of course, "C is for Cream and the British blues invasion," while "D is for The Doors and their sonic exploration."

Other letters I particularly liked were "K is for KISS, a sight to see on stage" (so true!) and Schwartz's solution to the problem of the X page, "X is for T-Rex, Bang a Gong, Get it On'."

As I studied the history of rock music with my student this year, it occurred to me that the disconnect between the young and the old, and between classical music (considered respectable but stodgy by some) and popular music (considered ubiquitous and undeserving by others) is a fault in our handling of cultural history. American popular music is sometimes tainted by its association with drugs and sex and the ritual trashing of hotel rooms, but it deserves to be honored for what it is: an amazing new creation that took place over the course of a mere hundred years or so.

If you're not a music buff, you may not be very interested in Schwartz's new alphabet and what it represents. But for some of us, it's a starting point for teaching kids about a colorful, powerful part of our past.

After all, Lady Gaga wouldn't be here if it weren't for Madonna, and Madonna owes a musical debt to everything from Motown dance music to Led Zeppelin, while the Rolling Stones freely acknowledge blues artist like Muddy Waters as a major musical influence (not to mention the source of the band's name), and on it goes...

The Rock & Roll Alphabet reminds us that music has a history, and that artists in every medium build on one another's work. If you don't want it for your kids, hey; get it for yourself! It may not be as big as the usual photographic tomes, but it makes a great miniature coffee table book.

You can preview The Rock & Roll Alphabet on YouTube.


A Rule Is To Break: A Child's Guide to Anarchy by John Seven and Jana Christy

"Chaos and kids go together like lemon and fish." That's the opening line of the e-mail I got telling me about this book.

In a world where the term "anarchy" is often associated with lawlessness in the sense of "here come them bandits and we don't got no sheriff to save us," a picture book teaching children to be anarchic may sound a little unnerving. But wait—take a look at this book (which Jules of Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast introduced along with more of the team's work in a recent post).

The main character is a little girl dressed in a red suit which at first glance looks like a devil costume; it actually turns out to be a wolf costume, in a nice homage to Where the Wild Things Are—a book which is pretty much about children and anarchy, too. (See also my post from a few years back, "Anarchy of the Imagination: Why I Love Children's Books.")

This little girl is a free spirit, and really, she simply acts out the exuberance we see all the time in small children. Like my new neighbor across the street, 4-year-old Louie, who jumps more often than he walks.

The first page of A Rule Is to Break says, "The opposite of rules is anarchy. There are plenty of ways to make anarchy." The illustration shows our wild child—who has blue hair, by the way—running past naked and grinning.

Next we get, "Don't look like everybody else. BE YOU!" And we see the girl sewing her red wolf costume, then wearing it.

Followed by, "When someone says 'Work!' you say 'Why?'"

And "Ignore school and read books. Use your brain!" This one shows the wild child up in a tree, happily reading a book.

But just when you might be thinking, "What will this book do to my sweet little child?" we turn the page and see, "Hug the ugliest monster you can find." With our red wolf-suited girl hugging a truly Sendak-worthy gray monster.

You may not appreciate the book's advice to "Paint pictures on your TV," but you might like "Forget about grocery stores and get dirty in your garden." I will restrain myself from giving you more, but suffice it to say, there's some great stuff in here.

Jana Christy's illustrations are clean and bright, with her personable red-clad child roaming freely across grocery sack-colored pages. The blue hair with the red wolf outfit is a great touch every single time it appears. Christy's artwork is cute without being cutesy. It succeeds without appearing to try too hard, an approach which perfectly matches its subject matter.

So—is this book only for the offspring of neo-hippies, rock musicians, and the more liberal sort of home-schoolers?

Not at all. If there was ever a book for starting a conversation about rules and the very idea of civilization and societies, for better or for worse, with 5- to 7-year-olds, it would be this one. Not to mention some of the advice is a lot of fun.

I was reminded of a rather amusing picture book called 17 Things I'm Not Allowed to Do Anymore by Jenny Offill and Nancy Carpenter, although John and Jana's book is far more free-wheeling and, I would say, appealing. (Offill's main character, also a girl, is restricted over and over, but her imagination just won't stop.)

Go beyond using A Rule Is to Break to teach your child a new vocabulary word, "anarchy," and use it to teach your child about out-of-the-box thinking, not to mention being true to oneself.

Which is really the point, I suspect.

Find out more about A Rule Is to Break and other works by this author-illustrator team (e.g., Happy Punks) at AuntieUncleBooks, home of the Wee Anarchists Un-Club.


La Bella Durmiente por Jacob y Wilhelm Grimm, con ilustraciones de Ana Juan

It's a little self-serving of me to throw this one in, considering it's in Spanish. A few days ago I had dinner with a friend I hadn't seen in 26 years, an Argentine woman, which took me back to my time spent in Argentina, of course. It was great hearing that unique Argentine Spanish spoken once again...

But I mostly got this book, which I ordered from Europe, because of the illustrations, not the text. I am a huuuuge fan of Ana Juan's artwork! In particular, I love her illustrations for Frida, Jonah Winter's biography of Frida Kahlo. See also her illustrations for Elena's Serenade by Campbell Geeslin and for The Jewel Box Ballerinas by Monique de Varennes. And her newest work, the illustrations for Catherynne M. Valente's much-talked-about middle grade fantasy novel, The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making. (See my recent review here.)

La Bella Durmiente, or Sleeping Beauty, is an old-fashioned fairy tale picture book, with a left-hand page of relatively dense text and and an illustration on the right-hand page. Rather than a retelling, the text is simply the original version by the Brothers Grimm, translated to Spanish. (The publisher is from Spain, Sopa de Cuentos, which means Soup of Stories or Story Soup.) Our story begins, "Hace mucho tiempo había un rey y una reina que exclamaban todos los días: —¡Ay, si tuviéramos un hijo! —y no consiguían tener nunca uno. Entonces sucedió que, estando la reina una vez en el baño, saltó un sapo del agua..."

In English this reads: "In times past there lived a king and queen, who said to each other every day of their lives, 'Would that we had a child!' and yet they had none. But it happened once that when the queen was bathing, there came a frog out of the water..."

So Juan's first illustration is a frog, looking out of the page.

The next illustration gives us a pleased-looking queen all dressed in black, holding her baby daughter, who is swaddled in cream. The king peers over the queen's shoulder like an Eastern potentate, while the queen wears one of those hats with a veil around the sides, her crown perched on top.

Juan's fairies are unique, sort of pink floaty shapes with barely discernible faces. I'm not sure how well they work, but it is nice to see a different approach. The evil fairy bursts onto the next page looking for all the world like a red Georgia O'Keefe flower, looming over the child, while the king and queen are shown off to one side, diminished.

A briar motif done in gray winds down the center of each spread, dividing the illustration from the text. It is also used to good effect on the endpapers.

I like the later images in the book best, when the princess goes up the stairs and then falls asleep. For instance, as the princess ascends a stone spiral stairway, her long robe billows out behind her, trailing around the spiral in a ghostly way. Very nice!

I also like how, when the prince shows up, Juan depicts him standing beside the bed, with the princess politely covering a yawn as she drags open her sleepy eyes. No kiss here, but a clever glimpse of how a real person wakes up!

In general I am not as fond of the artwork in La Bella Durmiente as I have been of Juan's illustrations in other books, but if you are, like me, a major fan, it might be worth your while to track down a copy.

Note: You can see more of Ana Juan's artwork at her website.

Hans on Amazon

I'm so excited! My next book is already up on Amazon and available for pre-order, even though the publication date is January 2012. Link through to see the cover art.

Hans My Hedgehog is a retelling of a Grimms' fairy tale, illustrated by the marvelous John Nickle. It's the story of a farmer and his wife who so long for a baby that the farmer exclaims he wants a son even if it's half hedgehog—and that's exactly what happens. Hans grows up to be a fiddler, and he has a particular knack with pigs. Lonely because none of the village girls will talk to him, he goes off to live in the magical forest. There he helps two kings in return for two promises...

Anyway, it's very fun to see Hans out in the world already. (I have the page proofs, and the art is just wonderful. Yay, John!)

4/13/11 update: Someone's trying to sell a "used" copy of Hans (galleys?) for $1462.32. Yikes!

A Review of The Grimm Legacy by Polly Shulman

I was surprised to find this book shelved with middle grade series in the bookstore, as The Grimm Legacy gives no particular indication that it's the first in a series. Then again, by the time I was done reading, I wanted it to be a series!

Polly Shulman takes a great premise and develops it to a fare-thee-well in this delightful new book aimed at tweens. We first meet eighth grader Elizabeth Rew and discover that she hasn't made any friends at her snobby new private school, while at home she has to deal with a mildly evil stepmother-and-two-stepsisters scenario. Then Elizabeth writes a paper on the Brothers Grimm for her history class and her history teacher, Mr. Mauskopf, recommends her for a job as a page at the New-York Circulating Material Repository.

After an odd test at the repository involving different ways of sorting buttons, Elizabeth winds up working in a "library" that lends objects, things like costumes and vases and antique weapons. The place even has one of Marie Antoinette's wigs! First-person narrator Elizabeth finds herself crushing on a co-worker, Marc, who's a basketball star at her school; tentatively making friends with a girl called Anjali; and getting irritated by the sarcastic Aaron.

Elizabeth also learns about Special Collections, most notably the Grimm Collection, which contains things like the two dozen shoes worn out by the twelve dancing princesses, the magic mirror from Snow White (which has a mean streak!), and seven-league boots. She eventually finds out that she and the other pages were hired partly because of their ability to sense magic.

Unfortunately, someone has been stealing items from the Grimm Collection and replacing them with non-magical duplicates. Are Marc and Anjali the culprits? They've been doing something sneaky with the seven-league boots. In a lot of ways, this book is simply a mystery with magic thrown in.

But oh, the fun things Shulman does with the magic! For example, Elizabeth has to memorize and sing a spell to get into the Grimm Collection, as well as use a magical key in the shape of a binder clip. Then there's that Snow White mirror, which will tell the truth, but will try to mess things up. It will only answer if addressed in rhyme, and it keeps calling Elizabeth different variations of her name simply to get on her nerves.

Shulman also considers what an eighth grader might do with a magical object; say, use a mermaid comb to gussy up before going to a basketball game with her friends. Luckily, Elizabeth has earned check-out privileges. Unluckily, she has to leave something major as a deposit and chooses her sense of direction.

There are some lovely little details in this book, like what Shulman does with a homeless woman (an important fairy tale trope) and her use of a set of amazing stained glass windows depicting the four seasons.

I really like Shulman's cast of characters, too, and only partly because they're multicultural: Marc is black, and Anjali is Indian American. Anjali's little sister, Jaya, is such a great character that she threatens to steal the show, one of those perfectly annoying yet too-smart and talented younger siblings. When things get really bad, it is only Jaya's seemingly small protection spell that keeps Elizabeth safe.

The Grimm Legacy is a relatively light-hearted book, despite the villain and his threats. It is also one of the more promising series starts I've seen in years. Keep in mind, Shulman has barely touched a couple of the other Special Collections: a cyberpunk collection named after William Gibson, not to mention a terrible "Keep out!" collection named after H.G. Wells. I suspect later books will do more with those, and will take a closer look at Elizabeth's stepmother and stepsisters while they're at it.

As you can see, this is an incredibly rich premise. Even so, in the wrong hands, it might have flopped. Fortunately, Shulman deftly balances the creative possibilities with strong middle school characters and their everyday concerns. (E.g., the reason Marc has been borrowing the seven-league boots!) I thoroughly look forward to watching this series develop.

Note for Worried Parents: There's a little romance here, with some kissing.