DOI: 10.4324/9780203885208-9
Like race and class, gender is not simply a biological phenomenon; it is a socially and ideologically bound identity. Despite the fact that in the United States in the last century women have gained in social status and power, there are many areas where women still occupy a lower position. Indeed, as late as 2004 a woman was generally earning 78 cents to every dollar earned by a man. In March 2005, the president of Harvard University, thinking he had a “scientific” evidence to support his assertion, publicly commented that women are not constructed to be scientists. His faculty voted “no confidence” as a result, and he was forced to leave his post. A new president, a woman, was selected to replace him.
Gender is not just about women. Men also are entangled by gendered expectations. Men in nursing, teaching, and other occupations mostly associated with women are not given the same respect as women who are in positions traditionally assigned or attributed to men. To move into a man’s occupation is moving up. To work at a job conventionally reserved for or associated with women’s work, is to move down, and be assigned lower social status.
It is important to acknowledge that not only gender, class, and race, but also ability, sexual orientation, age, and language contribute to social manifestations of privilege and prejudice. A woman of color experiences gender differently from a White woman of similar class standing. A poor White woman is perceived differently from her more affluent White sisters.
This chapter contains an analysis of the social construction of gender in children’s literature, notably fantasy, and specifically Cinderella, making visible how gender is socially created. It guides the reader to unpack such issues as gender, class, and race, across cultures and across centuries, and to develop a critical eye and ear by introducing variants of the same folk or fairy tale, hopefully sparking discussions about culture, values, power, and social norms.
Traditional literature originated with the folk of all of the populated continents, and formed a communications system among and within peoples over time and long before the advent of print. The tales reflected values, mores, acceptable behavior, consequences of behavior, battles between good and evil, and the assumptions of responsible citizenry. Depending on when the folkloric collectors captured them and set them down in print, the tales reflected society at the time of the telling. They were originally intended for all of the members of a community, no matter the age of the audience.
Cinderella is the tale that we examine extensively. The traditional Cinderella is a genre in and of itself, containing certain key ingredients of plot and character and shaping the reader’s expectations. The story generally depicts an obedient and innocent girl, born into a family of privilege, forced to become a menial servant to a nasty stepmother, and finally regaining affluent status, usually through the aid of a magical being. In some of the tales this being is a fish, in some an ox, bull, or cow, and in some, an old woman or an old man. For the most part, the Cinderella character marries royalty, after successfully identifying herself (or himself) as the rightful owner of an artifact (usually a shoe) that has been left behind at an event such as a fancy ball or a series of celebrations.
We have selected Cinderella primarily because more versions of this tale exist than any other. It is probably the most familiar story for children and adults alike. It represents a number of values and attitudes that are commonly viewed as “social.” There are enough differences among the versions to make it interesting for readers to compare and contrast the way the elements of the story as well as the ingredients of the culture are handled. There are even a number of male Cinderellas both in the oral tradition and contemporary retellings. By selecting Cinderella we invite children to exercise critical literacies practices, that is, detect ideologies and go beyond their own lived experience of what is beautiful and virtuous. We want them to understand and acquire multiple perspectives as well as develop critical thinking habits. Old traditions, historical constructs, the ability to identify allies and enemies, and a consideration of punishment and rewards are all embedded in the retellings of the folk and fairy tales.
As Michael Levy (2000) reminds us in his provocative and scholarly article, “What if Your Fairy Godmother Were an Ox? The Many Cinderellas of Southesast Asia”:
Cinderella, for all of its apparent distance from our world, does deal with important issues. It’s about children’s fear of losing a parent and of losing their place in the family. It’s about having an appropriate relationship with the natural and for that matter the supernatutral world. It’s about the importance of doing what’s right despite the difficulties that might ensue. And, finally, it’s also about acceptable female behavior and what girls can and should do to take control of their own lives.
(Levy, 2000: 185)
Many of the European-based Cinderella tales teach that good girls should be meek, obedient, heterosexual, able bodied, White, and grateful. Beauty is defined as being blonde, blue-eyed, petite, and slender. Happiness is found by marrying a rich man. If a poor orphan is unhappy with her situation, she can wish for a fairy godmother or some other form of magic to solve her problems.
This passive Cinderella certainly does not show readers how to voice their concerns or organize for social change. Rather, she is often the model of the inactive and beautiful victim who does not dare to dream of freedom. She is aided by a magical being and eventually marries a handsome prince, whose inner qualities are seldom revealed to the reader.
Although Cinderella is frequently depicted as the victim of her stepmother’s and stepsisters’ domination, she also participates in the oppression by colluding with her oppressors via her unquestioning obedience to their commands. On the other hand, in the chapter, “Once Upon a Time,” in her book, Touch Magic, Jane Yolen (1981/2000) challenges us to consider, particularly in some of the Asian versions, the pre-Disney tales, and in the contemporary recastings of the story, that a number of Cinderellas are spirited and resistant to domination.
Sometimes Cinderella participates in her own rescue and exhibits active, resourceful qualities, no matter how downtrodden she has become. For the most part, however, she is totally dependent on magical intervention and is content to wait until she can be identified and rescued. Assumptions vary, however, depending on the source of the tale, the author and illustrator, the intent, and the context. In contemporary times, just as in times past, the different versions of the tales depend on the politics, the audience, and the purpose of the telling.
In any study of the tales, there is inevitably a comparison with others of the same type. Sometimes the features to be compared are structural (e.g., setting, characters, motif, and magical artifact) and sometimes the discourse is the focus of comparison. Often, the intent of the comparison is simply to compare plot similarities in order to examine their effect on the telling. There is an inherent pleasure to be gleaned from detecting similarities and differences, and readers of all ages enjoy pointing them out, almost like uncovering clues and solving a detective story.
In our view, the critical and cross-cultural analysis of fairy tale variants is worthy of pursuit, examining which cultural statements and questions these stories are responding to. The issue at hand, we believe, is not just what we read, but also how we read, and what we do with what we read. Point of view shapes the telling of the story. It affects both the story and the reader.
In this chapter we use critical multicultural analysis to examine Cinderella stories from many countries and sources produced especially for children. The versions of the stories we analyze were published, for the most part, in the past 30 years. They are in circulation and are the ones most likely to be in the hands of contemporary children.
The different Cinderellas share common elements but the ideologies vary. The narratives are shaped by their historical, cultural, and sociopolitical contexts. For most of the male Cinderellas, bulls and cows serve as sources of magic. Female Asian Cinderellas tend to have fish as magical aides, although oxen figure prominently in several of the Southeast Asian tales. It is interesting to note that versions derived from the French writer Perrault contain fairy godmothers, while those from the German Grimm Brothers do not (see Zipes, 1986). Some of the godmothers actively enlist Cinderella’s collaboration. Others require her total obedience. In some of the stories, the prince sends emissaries to fetch his bride. In others, he participates in person. In some tales (again those descending from Perrault) Cinderella forgives her stepfamily. In others (found in the Grimm variants) she tacitly condones violent punishment to be wrought against her oppressors. Even though the storyline is basically the same, the details, especially in contemporary reconstructions, create widely divergent products.
In the play of power, the stepmother and stepsisters dominate and collude. The father colludes or is a victim disposed of in one way or another. Cinderella often is deliberately and doggedly patient and kind, as if these qualities function as resistance along the path for acquiring agency rather than collusion with her enemies in her own oppression. The women she lives with prey on her. The domestic sphere affords the stepmother, in particular, inordinate power. All the unmarried women, including Cinderella, are dependent upon the patriarch’s ability to confer economic stability, which translates into social power. The whole family appears to be vying for societal position, except for Cinderella, who seems to be without social ambition.
The father is usually a shadowy figure who simply goes along with the stepmother’s injustice. In some versions, the father is well intentioned. The implication, when he marries after the death of Cinderella’s mother, is that he wants his daughter to have a mother. In some stories he is the unwitting fool. In others he is very weak and submits to whatever his wife dictates. In a few he is a villain who abuses his wife and uses her for his own advancement. In most of the versions, however, especially the European and American, he is a nonentity: he either disappears or dies.
In almost all of the versions the prince is not only one-dimensional, he is almost invisible. He is a function, not a person. In some of the stories the Prince himself searches for Cinderella with the slipper in hand. In others he is so removed from the process that he sends courtiers on his behalf, trusting that they will do his bidding and relieving himself of the unnecessary effort. Who is this Prince with whom Cinderella must now spend the rest of her life? What does she know about her husband? What does he know about her? What sort of married life will they have together? The Cinderella promise in all of the stories is not only fortune and contentment, but also the adoption of her husband’s lifestyle. Will she live in isolation from other women? Will she have other female allies? The reader has no idea of what the Prince enjoys, what he thinks, and/or how he will govern. The Cinderella genre avoids the expectations of the conventional fairy tale pattern in which the Prince actively fights dragons, overcomes social adversity, and even cleverly outwits villains in order to capture the hand of the fair princess. In Cinderella tales he is the door prize rather than the centerpiece of the action.
Men hold the power and wealth and provide the rewards. The Cinderella stories are a window into how women relate to each other and perpetuate gendered subject positions in the text and, by extension, in society. Most Cinderellas begin in high estate as daughters of well-to-do fathers. They lose their positions when their mother dies, their father remarries and either dies or relinquishes control, and Cinderella is forced into servitude. The happy ending is that Cinderella regains her status, but not in her own right. Rather, she receives her upper class status as a function of her husband’s position. Rarely does the story follow Cinderella past her triumphant marriage to the Prince.
Diane Stanley (2006) has constructed a markedly unusual and engaging Cinderella tale. Bella at Midnight is set in the middle ages and features a brave and beautiful protagonist whose father, a knight, rejects her because her mother died as a result of giving birth to her. Bella is left in the care of a peasant family until her father remarries and sends for her. Each of the characters in this novel has the opportunity to make his or her voice heard, in turn, as a narrator. The wicked stepmother is not wicked. She is not attractive, but the reader understands her motivation and her unhappiness, especially because her story is included along with her daughters’. It is easier for us as readers to empathize, even with the “villain”, because we know the reasons for their attitudes and behavior.
The prince, Julian, was also nurtured as an infant by Bella’s caretakers. He was a fourth child and not considered very important. He and Bella played happily together, and even when he was sent back to the castle, he would visit frequently with “Princess Bella.”
Although the expected features of the genre, such as the glass slippers, are interwoven throughout the novel, it is the changes that make an important difference. The venomous and grieving father, the nurturing peasant family, the sympathetic stepsister, and the heroic character of Bella lift this tale beyond its familiar unfolding. When Bella is forced to return to her father’s mansion she feels decidedly out of place and prefers to stay in the kitchen near the hearth. Here Bella forges a relationship with the cook, who teaches her how to read. Bella is a hero of mythic proportions when she singlehandedly prevents a bloody war and saves Julian’s life.
Perhaps the most telling difference is that there is a context for the behavior of each of the characters. Stanley investigates class and gender as they existed in medieval times. She also weaves a complex web that goes far beyond the familiar Cinderella.
Contrary to popular belief, neither Perrault nor Disney created the Cinderella story. There is, however, some controversy about who the first Cinderella was. Somewhere between the sixth and first centuries B.C.E. the Roman historian, Strabo, chronicled a story about a Greek slave girl named Rhodopis who married the pharaoh, Amasis. By all accounts, she was a very beautiful woman with golden hair and rosy cheeks. She may have been a prostitute or a courtesan. Before her sojourn with the pharaoh she resided, probably as a slave, in the household of Charaxos, a wealthy Greek merchant, brother to the famed poet, Sappho.
Shirley Climo adapted her story to fit the Cinderella genre more closely, bringing her to life in The Egyptian Cinderella, inserting as an element of the plot her mistreatment by the women of the Egyptian court. The story line includes an eagle that seizes Rhodopis’s golden sandal and deposits it in the lap of the pharaoh, who then orders a search for the woman to whom the sandal belongs. Lo and behold, Rhodopis is identified. One might argue that although Rhodopis may have been the owner of the slipper, she was decidedly not Egyptian. In any case this story contains few of the ingredients of the Cinderella genre.
Most experts agree that the first Cinderella was Chinese, and her name was Yeh-Shen. According to the cover blurb of Yeh-Shen 1 by Ai-Ling Louie, Chinese manuscripts dating from the T’ang Dynasty (618 to 906 C.E.), supposedly depicting the story as having been introduced orally “before the time of Chin (222–206 B.C.E.),” are acknowledged to contain the first written literary depiction of Cinderella. This story describes a beautiful young girl persecuted by a wicked stepmother and her nasty stepsister. Also included in the cast of characters are a wondrous fish, and then, later, a mystical sage. A golden shoe functions as the artifact used to locate the prince’s bride. The prince is the king of an island people and Yeh-Shen’s father had been a cave chief of Southern China, so this version affirms Cinderella’s upper class origins.
A number of scholars such as Ramond De Loy Jameson (1932) affirm this origin, but for some there is a question of the authenticity of the T’ang manuscript of Yeh-Shen. Folklorists provide many arguments that are worthy of further research. We could spend hours speculating on and tracking down the possible influences the Asian Cinderellas had on the European tales and vice versa. Although the scholarly exploration is fascinating and endless, it is sufficient to acknowledge the possibilities of the Chinese and other Asian Cinderellas far predating the European versions.
One of the reasons for looking at numerous adaptations and retellings of Cinderella is that children can analyze and discuss how beauty is communicated. Since there are Cinderellas all over the world, with some estimates saying that there are over 1,000 versions, the criteria for beauty vary, and the blonde, blue-eyed “ideal” takes its place alongside the Cinderellas who have very different physical features. It may well be, because ancient Chinese people admired tiny feet, that the small shoe became the means of locating the true princess. Western readers may not be aware of the fact that until not too many years ago the practice of binding the feet of Chinese women, particularly those from the aristocracy, from an early age deformed the feet so badly that the women could not walk, and had to be carried from place to place. Beauty and wealth were generally equated; there was no need for the wealthy woman to walk. Women’s refusal to have their feet bound became a sign of independence and resisting of authority in modern times. But foot binding is still within the memory of some Chinese women today.
Many of the stories set in Asia include references to magical fish, the killing of the fish, and the continuation of the magic via the fish bones. In a number of these tales the happy ending does not translate to a marriage. In some versions, the Cinderella character is killed, comes back to life, and finally vanquishes the evil stepmother or stepsister. Life and death are fluid in several Asian versions of the tale: in some retellings the mother offers herself as a living sacrifice so that the family may have food or survive economically. In most of these tales she is betrayed by her husband, who takes a second wife, and goes back on his word to return his first wife to life. In several of the stories the characters are reincarnated before they are actually restored to their original form.
In most of the Asian retellings, the Cinderella character perseveres even though she is abused, and violence and trickery are used against her. The quality of the perseverance shows much more resistance than many of the European Cinderellas. In contrast to the meekly obedient protagonist who passively endures the life of a drudge, her Asian counterpart tends to the care and feeding of a fish, conspires with elder advisors, and even returns to life several times. She has identifying strengths that the Prince recognizes. The socioeconomic status of the father (and therefore, Cinderella) varies among the retellings. Sometimes it is a regained status (i.e., riches-to-rags-to-riches) and sometimes it is an acquired status (i.e., rags-to-riches).
In The Enchanted Anklet, an Indo-Canadian version, translated and adapted by the Indian-born author, Lila Mehta, the protagonist, Cinduri, begins in middle-class standing. The artifact left behind is a jeweled anklet (hence the title of the tale). Hindu ritual figures throughout the story as a backdrop. The snake, who performs the function of the magical advisor as well as the dead mother, is a traditional Hindu symbol of strength and might. Of all the Asian Cinderellas, this story is most reminiscent of the European versions because Cinduri marries the Prince and lives happily ever after. Her wicked stepmother and stepsister fail to tend their farm successfully and are forced to become beggars. A tree that is uprooted by lightning kills them. No redemption here.
In Wishbones: A Folk Tale from China, retold by Barbara Ker Wilson, Yeh Hsien is the daughter of a cave chieftain. In this version, her father loves her dearly, but does not figure much in the plot. His second wife and her daughter persecute Yeh Hsien. Yeh Hsien catches a fish that becomes her pet, and through trickery, the stepmother captures, kills, and cooks the fish. When Yeh Hsien discovers the disappearance of the fish, an old man appears to her and informs her that the bones of the dead fish are magic. He advises her to hide the bones and her every wish will be granted.
Up to this point, this story is identical to the other version by Ai-Ling Louie, but in this retelling, Yeh Hsien systematically acquires treasures, including embroidered silk robes, which she hides in her corner of the cave. Yeh Hsien attends the cave festival by means of the treasures she has accumulated. She enjoys the festival, runs home because she fears her stepmother and stepsister have recognized her, and drops one of her violet slippers. The cave people find her slipper and sell it to the ruler of a neighboring kingdom. His messengers locate Yeh Hsien who becomes queen of the land. The most startling detail that is different from the other retellings is that Yeh Hsien’s husband abuses the power of the fish bones until at last they refuse to grant any more wishes. The king is appropriately ashamed and buries the fish bones which are ultimately washed away by the tide and never again seen.
The Brocaded Slipper, told by Lynette Dyer Vuong, conveys a Vietnamese version of the story. Tam is the Cinderella character and Cam is her wicked stepsister. Tam’s father dies and she is pressed into servitude as a result of Cam’s trickery. There is a magic fish, which gets killed and cooked, but whose bones produce, among other treasure, a pair of slippers. The crowned prince gets hold of one of the slippers and vows to marry the owner. Tam is given impossible tasks to perform, and does so with the aid of some pigeons. She dresses in the other treasured items the fish bones provide and is selected by the Prince to be his bride. The story continues beyond Tam’s marriage. She is visiting at home for her father’s memorial ceremony and she is killed by her stepmother, but her soul transforms into an oriole, a peach tree, a loom, a persimmon tree, and a peasant’s daughter. Meanwhile, the Prince is persuaded to marry Cam, although his heart still pines for Tam. Finally, the Prince visits an old woman’s cottage and recognizes the culinary artistry of the meal the old woman provides him. Tam appears and they have a joyful reunion. Cam falls off a wall in her attempt to escape and is killed. Finally, Tam lives happily ever after with her Prince.
Lê Thi Thanh (1998), in her commentary on Vietnamese Cinderella versions, informs us that “Vietnamese farmers not only produce agricultural products but also make friends with them. They often name their children after the crops to appreciate their nourishing values” (Thanh, 1998: 3). Thanh goes on to point out that “from the traditional viewpoint of Vietnamese morality, happiness is neither magic from the fairy nor a gift from the stepmother; it is gained by conquest with patience and hard work” (Thanh, 1998: 9). The transformations that Tam undergoes are reflective of her perseverance, kind-heartedness, and endurance. In the Southeast Asian varieties of Cinderella, Michael Levy (2000) notes that “death simply doesn’t end things” (Levy, 2000: 181). The presence of the dead and reincarnation are central to these stories, influenced by Buddhism and Hinduism.
Kongi and Potgi: A Cinderella Story from Korea, adapted (with Stephanie Haboush Plunkett) and illustrated by Oki S. Han, provides similarities to the other Asian Cinderellas, and also contains some significant differences. Notably, the Cinderella character’s community actively intervenes on her behalf, as do stray animals and creatures on the nearby hillside. Kongi’s father has remarried, really for Kongi’s sake. Kongi is glad for her father’s sake, because he has been lonely. Kongi and her father are mutually loving and supportive until the marriage. Kongi’s father, although well meaning, is weak and cannot prevent his wife and stepdaughter from abusing his beloved daughter. Neither Kongi nor her father protests, ostensibly for fear of making things worse. The stepmother sets difficult tasks for Kongi, but Kongi succeeds because she is aided by an ox, a toad, a flock of sparrows, and ultimately, a rainbow and angels. Kongi attends a bride selection party at the palace, but runs away because she is so flustered by the prince’s attention. She leaves behind her a jewel-like slipper, which is the artifact proving that she is the rightful partner to the prince.
At her wedding reception, Kongi forgives her stepmother and stepsister, which makes her father very proud of her. The story ends by reaffirming the values of the culture: “Over the years Kongi had learned to be patient, humble, and kind—qualities that helped her to serve her people well” (n.p.). Her stepmother and stepsister reform and become good people who do good deeds. Unlike several of the European Cinderellas, especially in the Grimms’ collection in which the wicked stepsisters and stepmothers are bloodily and painfully executed, in some of the Asian stories there is the opportunity for redemption as part of the possibility for continuing to live a just life. To be fair, this is also an option in some of the European versions of Cinderella, notably, those patterned on Perrault’s creation.
According to Alan Dundes (1982/1988), the first European Cinderella was published in 1558 by Bonaaventure des Periers, followed closely by the posthumous publication in 1634 of Giambattista Basile’s Il Pentamerone, a collection of European folktales, which included “The Cat Cinderella.” Charles Perrault wrote Cinderella in the late seventeenth century for the French court. The Grimm brothers set their version into print in the early nineteenth century. The French and German versions seem to have found the widest audiences. In the late nineteenth century, Andrew Lang produced the English version, which was identical to Perrault’s in every detail. Differences exist between these two European retellings. The French tale has a godmother who is a fairy, and Cinderella forgives her stepsisters, invites them to the court, and matches them with husbands. In contrast in the German tale, the deceased mother’s spirit is the aide to Cinderella and the stepsisters’ toes and heels are cut off to fit into the slipper. They also get their eyes plucked out at the end of the story.
In his Don’t Bet on the Prince, Jack Zipes argues that “It is no longer possible to ignore the connections between the aesthetic components of the fairy tales, whether they be old or new, and their historical function within a socialization process which forms taste, mores, values, and habits” (Zipes, 1986: 2).
How are the plot variants shaped by the historical and sociopolitical status of women in the particular culture? How are class and race part of this status? What are the cultural implications of the magical intervention? In the Grimm version, the help comes from a hazel twig, a tree, and some birds, all part of nature. For his courtly audience Perrault creates a fairy godmother. Any of these differences could provide sources for inquiry and conversation.
Charles Perrault and the Grimm Brothers have hegemony over the production of fairy tales for child audiences. Modern retellings, for the most part, start with the base of either Perrault or Grimm, and, therefore, a northern European construct. There are, however, many picture books as well as novels that are twists or inventions of the Cinderella theme that enjoy great popularity among young readers. Shen’s Books catalogue alone offers more than sixty titles, and there are hundreds of adaptations and reconstructions available in libraries and bookstores. All of these benefit from critical multicultural analysis, perhaps the more so, because they appear to be more contemporary and savvy in the ways of the postmodern world.
Many adults are resistant to analyzing fairy tales because “it breaks their magic.” Whose magic? What does the magic signify? The status quo? Does the magic embody the act of collusion or go along with the power structure? We believe that when we examine these fairy tales we add an important layer of meaning, making visible the social circumstances they reflect, thus deepening the reading experience.
In John Steptoe’s book, Mufaro’s Beautiful Daughters, set in Zimbabwe, Africa, the strikingly attractive sisters provide a view of beauty that is different from Northern European, Southern European, Asian, Caribbean, or contemporary Canadian and American images. Moreover, the fact that these two sisters are identical twins leads young readers to the conclusion that, indeed, beauty is only skin deep.
Some facets of the Cinderella story that appear in this book include a nasty sister, a Prince’s quest for a bride, and some magical intervention. On the other hand, Nyasha, the unfailingly sweet tempered, kind sister, is not forced into menial servitude; she enjoys the chores of tending a garden. Further, her father does not play favorites. Both sisters are invited to the ball, and they sustain their high status throughout the story. Nyasha embraces menial work, while Manyara is determined that she will place her sister in servitude when she (Manyara) becomes queen of the castle. It is doubtful that Nyasha would see serving as a punishment. On the other hand, one wonders if she will have the opportunity to maintain her cherished habits when she is the Prince’s wife.
We must remember that this rendition, purportedly of an African tale, is a retold piece. It is noteworthy that John Steptoe’s Mufaro’s Beautiful Daughters is loosely based on a folktale. The source is a nineteenth-century collection called Kaffir Folk-lore by George McCall Theal. The stories were collected and set in writing by native people under the direction of and with copious notes added by Theal, who held numerous positions in South Africa, including that of a mission teacher as well as a border magistrate. Theal’s opinions of native traits and customs are often demeaning, for example, “Kaffir ideas of some kinds of morality are very low” (Theal, 1985: 209). He speaks of the people as uncivilized, and his use of the term “Kaffir” is, in and of itself, derogatory.
The landscape of Zimbabwe may have inspired John Steptoe’s work, but his Western messages and values are imbedded in his story of these two beautiful sisters, for example, the ironic ending of Manyara becoming a servant in her sister’s household. It is precisely because Steptoe’s illustrations of these two young women leave no doubt as to their beauty that this book is valuable for a classroom, no matter what the setting or derivation. But it would be a mistake to pretend that the study of the story would provide insight into the culture of Zimbabwe.
Children need to see many forms of beauty so that they dispel the stereotypic automatic notion that to be beautiful a woman must be White, fair haired, blue-eyed, and dainty. Different cultures maintain different notions of what is beautiful, and it is to the advantage of the reader to be able to widen his or her concept of the array of characteristics that are deemed beautiful, even beyond personal physical attraction.
In the classic tales male dominance requires that Cinderella be sweet and passive. The stepsisters are nasty, usually physically unattractive, and they are punished, but the degree of punishment depends on the author’s perspective. In her focus on modern day girls and women in literature, Waking Sleeping Beauty: Feminist Voices in Children’s Novels, Roberta Seelinger Trites (1997) points out that some reconstructed stories are designed to free the female protagonists from “inevitably growing into passivity” (Trites, 1997: 11). For the most part, however, these stories continue to represent heterosexuality as the norm. The assumption is that marriage is the happy ending. Indeed, the female protagonist has been transformed into a self-possessed willful, non-stereotypic person in her own right.
Trites maintains that “In rewriting folktales to advance feminist ideologies and to identify female subjectivity, feminist writers are both protesting the powerlessness of women inherent in our culture’s old folkways and giving voice to a new set of values: a set that allows for the princess to have power, a set that allows Sleeping Beauty to wake up not to a destiny that immerses her in her husband’s life but to a destiny that is self-defined” (Trites, 1997: 45).
Even though these stories are reconstructed, stereotypes often circulate through them: They are not immune to biased attitudes and behaviors. For example, in Cinder Edna, by Ellen Jackson, Edna is portrayed as independent, direct, and active. She is attracted to Rupert, the prince’s younger brother, who is a perfect match for Edna, especially because they both “knew some good jokes.” Unfortunately, the beginnings of a few jokes that they share sound like stems of ethnic humor, for example, the “anteater from Afghanistan” and the “banana from Barbados”. In some ways, these beginnings may set up the reader to expect and excuse this kind of humor. Nevertheless, many of the retold tales do counteract the seriously gendered and classed messages of the classic tales even though the expected happy ending is usually that the Cinderella figure and the prince get married.
In Bubba The Cowboy Prince, by Helen Ketteman, the classic storyline unfolds in language that deviates from its usually delicate, enchanting style. In this story it takes on the pattern of the Texas ranching community. One would hardly find in a classic fairy tale the admonition to “… watch out for them cow patties … you know how Daddy hates for you to track up the house” (n.p.). The protagonists in this case are male, and Bubba experiences the same lowly status as any female Cinderella. One major difference is that Bubba enjoys ranching (like Nyasha from Mufaro’s Beautiful Daughters, who enjoys tending her garden). The potential royal partner, Ms. Lurleen, is “the prettiest and richest gal in the county.” (She looks remarkably like Dolly Parton.) Despite her success, she is lonely, so she fulfills the classic practice of hosting a fancy dance in order to attract potential suitors. Appropriate for a Cinderella reconstruction, set in Texas, the magical intervention comes from a “fairy godcow.” The cow outfits Bubba with dazzling new clothes and a beautiful white stallion. One last departure from the classic tale has Ms. Lurleen identifying Bubba as the owner of a dirty, old boot. But what really affirms that she has found her true love, is how odiferous he is from working with the cows. Lurleen recognizes his smell, asks him to marry her, and the two live happily ever after.
This story is a romp and a turning of the tale on its head. The pattern is recognizable with enough regional, colloquial vocabulary that attributes it to a particular context. There is no mistaking that it is a Cinderella story, broadly played, and we know from the beginning how the story will end. The biggest change in the story line is, even when Bubba is forced to labor, he has agency; he loves the work that he is doing.
Yet another reconstructed Cinderella is Raisel’s Riddle by Erica Silverman. In this book the setting is a Jewish community in a village in Poland, over one hundred years ago. The father figure is Raisel’s kind grandfather, who dies, and Raisel is left on her own. Rather than become dependent on her community, Raisel travels to another location and seeks work in the home of the Rabbi (as close to a king as a poor Jewish girl can get). The wicked stepmother figure is the Rabbi’s cook who resents any interference in her kitchen. There are no artifacts that Raisel loses; it is her knowledge of a riddle that the Prince (the Rabbi’s son) seeks in order to find his mate. In this story knowledge is valued, as is kindness and ingenuity. Raisel does receive help from a fairy godmother (in the guise of a hungry old woman whom Raisel befriends) but it is clearly her own ability and active intervention that bring Raisel her prize.
This retelling has some of the elements of the classical story but the artifacts have changed. The significant differences include a clear philosophical stance, so that it is not a shallow message. The Cinderella character has agency; nobody can conquer her. Even though the evil cook tries to thwart her, Raisel manages to overcome the oppression. When locked in the kitchen she pounds on the door to be set free. The prince is not looking for a woman with certain physical characteristics, but an intellectual partner. Although there are still traditional elements such as the Purim ball and marriage as the happy ending after minimal interaction between the bride and groom, in Raisel’s Riddle, the implication is that Raisel and the Rabbi’s son will be life partners.
Fanny’s Dream, by Caralyn Buehner, illustrated by her husband Mark, provides an antidote to the usual romantic fantasy of most of the Cinderella retellings. The story is set in rural Wyoming. Fanny, a sturdy, stocky daughter of a farmer, dreams of marrying a tall, rich, and handsome prince. She wants this prince to take her away from her life of toil, wait and dote on her. She knows this can only be accomplished with the aid of a fairy godmother but it does not work out that way for her. Instead, while she is waiting for her fairy godmother to appear, she encounters and consents to marry Heber Jensen, a short, stout, and hardworking farmer. The two are committed to each other, and make a life together that is neither easy nor romantic, but is mutually satisfying. They are productively interdependent, and their relationship is loving, as well as one that contains some humor and fun. It is clear that they care deeply about each other and their growing family. When, at last, a fairy godmother does appear, Fanny easily decides to refuse her services and returns gladly to her family.
The Cinderella elements of romantic love between two gorgeous characters, arranged for by a supernatural being, are examined in the light of reality in this picture book. The fantasy of love without the necessity for commitment and devotion is overturned and replaced by the satisfaction of a hard-won good life, bolstered by the ability to laugh and build together. This is no fairy tale. The author/illustrator team invites young readers to consider what love consists of and how it grows. The message is clear, but it is embedded in the story, and is not tract. Fanny, and by implication, all young people, have choices as to how they will live their lives. The fairy godmother who appears (albeit tardily) represents Fanny’s dream come true, but Fanny realizes that her true dream has been the life she actively has chosen and works to maintain. It is noteworthy that Fanny and her family are reading Cinderella in the last panel of the book.
Units of study comparing Cinderellas abound in classrooms where teachers are eager to invite their students to engage in critical multicultural awareness and analysis. Nowhere is this more sensitive and difficult an undertaking than in the arena of Native American collections of Cinderella tales. Fortunately, scholars are readily available to assist in the processes of deconstructing and contextualizing these stories. One such expert, Debbie A. Reese (Nambé Pueblo), is an Assistant Professor of American Indian Studies at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. Her blog critiques literature, offers recommendations for teaching, and keeps the reader up to date on events and issues in Native American education. Cynthia Leitich Smith is a gifted and award-winning author of books containing Native American themes and characters. She is a tribal member of the Muscogee (Creek) Nation. She also maintains an active and informative blog, particularly focusing on books with Native American content. Joseph Bruchac, of Abenaki heritage, is probably the best known expert on Native American life and culture. He is also a prolific writer of children’s books. Beverly Slapin and Doris Seale, who is a Santee, Dakota, and Cree librarian and educator, are well-respected directors of Oyate, a non-profit group that provides information and materials about Native Peoples for use in the curriculum. In a quest to uncover the ideologies and implicit values represented in the texts of so-called Cinderellas it would be enlightening to consult these resources to guide the discussion.
In a particularly informative article in the January 2007 issue of Language Arts, Dr. Reese demonstrates the differences between portraying culture and conforming to the Cinderella genre. She unpacks three versions of Turkey Girl, a “Zuni Cinderella” to convey her message. In looking at the elements of these stories Reese provides specific examples of how the florid language used in one story may capture the reader’s attention, but it does not represent the accurate language of the people. The intent of the story is acknowledged to explain something about the land and the tracks the turkeys have left on it, whereas the Cinderella variant focuses on the Cinderella character.
As previously stated, presenting Cinderella stories in Native American settings is problematic and likely to convey false messages to young readers. One may wonder if this is the case with all cultures. Perhaps it would be wise to issue a warning to all teachers and children not to confuse the Cinderella story with the culture of a people. For example, The Irish Cinderlad, retold by Shirley Climo, clearly contains ingredients of the Cinderella genre, albeit tailored for a change in gender: Becan’s feet are enormous and he is located by means of a gigantic boot; there is no ball, but there is the opportunity to rescue the princess from the clutches of a dragon. There is a nasty stepmother and her daughters and there is a magical bull who aids Becan in his survival. The tale is similar in pattern to other Cinderlads, but there is no evidence of particular Irish or any other culture. In her “Author’s Note” Climo lists other Cinderlads from Scandinavia to Africa, India, and Japan, who have similar plots. In all cases the stories are set in a magical or fictitious land and reflect no specific people.
Comparing the different versions can be an engaging and thought-provoking classroom activity, especially if the examination of the tales involves more than simple story grammar (e.g., a comparison of the characters, plot, setting, and ending). A look at the socioeconomic status of Cinderella and the other characters in the story, and how this status affects their behavior and assumptions might be one avenue of exploration. Standards of beauty and how important they are to the action might be another.
Inviting children to make a multimedia collage of representations of gender across texts (e.g., newspapers, advertisements, literature, TV commercials, music videos, etc.) will help them see the prevalence of gender in our everyday lives. They can locate patterns across these texts as well as analyze the gender roles available for boys and men.
Every work of literature is a product of culture, whether it is intentional on the part of the author or not. The adaptor reflects his or her perspective on life, assumptions about good and evil, and transmission of values. Even in a purportedly Chinese story, the adaptation reflects twentieth- or twenty-first-century United States or some aspect thereof. The audience is children who live in a globalized world, and not an isolated culturally specific group that was the audience for the oral folktale. Culture is a negotiated, commonly constructed set of knowledge, beliefs, ways of thinking, norms, morals, history, laws, language, customs, and habits that hold a group together. Culture evolves, shifts, and reacts depending on the sociopolitical and economic context, geography, and composition of the community.
A critical multicultural analysis encompasses questions about how society is organized, how power is distributed, how texts construct race, gender, and class, and how the aesthetic of a story, which includes discourse, positions the characters as well as the reader. It is worth looking at the power structure within the family, a microcosm of society, as well as how power is exercised. Cinderella exercises power in her compliance and collusion with characters outside the family. The absence of the father is a literary device in a number of cases, rendering him invisible or, at the least, ineffective. He is a bystander more often than not.
These stories bring us up close to the social processes among women. In many cases, the fairy godmother is a woman. In just about all of the Cinderellas there are gradations in how the Cinderella character responds to abuse. The abuse consists mainly of extrusion and lack of affection, with Cinderella ostensibly longing for acceptance, and willing to do almost anything to achieve it. She is clearly more socially responsive than her stepmother and stepsisters. They long for acceptance into the upper class, and it is only in the end, in the Perrault derivatives that they achieve their goal. Ironically, it is done totally through the largesse of Cinderella.
In retracing the development of the contemporary Cinderella, including Asian, early European, and U.S. Cinderellas, our focus is on her social construction over time and bringing her up to date. There are many perspectives on who we think Cinderella is today. Young readers have a wealth of models to look at critically in terms of power and status. The staying power or persistence of Cinderella is palpable despite the fact that Cinderella changes over time, across cultures, and within cultures. However, in most of the contemporary portraits, she is still disturbingly White. She is also, for the most part, isolated from any visible community and, except for some animal helpers, essentially without friends. Further, there are changes in the setting, the appearance, and the power of the Fairy Godmother, but the power relations remain.
In no place does the realm function as a factor. The Prince, and eventually Cinderella rule the people. The monarchy is left intact. It is difficult to imagine that a lively Cinderella would be attracted to the sterile life of the court. Who is this Prince with whom Cinderella must now spend the rest of her life? What does she know about her husband? What does he know about her? What sort of married life will they have together? The Cinderella promise in all of the stories is wealth and happiness, but also the adoption of the husband’s life. Will she live in isolation from other women? Will she have other female allies? What will happen to her family? Cinderella’s is rewarded in the end because of virtue and playing along with the status quo (position of women). In what ways is virtue tied to complacency? Collusion? Depending on the version, her stepmother and stepsisters are horribly maimed and killed or are invited to court where Cinderella finds “suitable” husbands for them.
In looking at Cinderella or any literature for children derived from the oral tradition, the reader needs to be open to a variety of cultural implications as well as social divisions across gender, race, and class lines. Analysis might bring up in what ways do religious ideologies (e.g., Judeo-Christian, Muslim) shape this story line, especially how Cinderella is constructed across these tales.
How is work depicted? How is leisure portrayed? What are the messages about class distinctions and expectations? What does Cinderella want? She wants agency. She does not want to be bossed around by her stepmother and stepsisters. She also wants romantic love. Within the Asian stories, although marriage is the outcome, she is not really looking for romantic love, which does not seem a social practice of these societies. In terms of the way the stories are represented to children, what she wants is to be herself.
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