Coconut Library

Once Upon a Time in a Disturbing, Creepy Land...

 

graphic from this blog

 

I saw a little bit of Beauty and the Beast last night, which I haven't seen for years. I was swarmed with memories, particularly because of the songs... that soundtrack was my very first CD back in 1991. I was in elementary school when Disney came back with a bang creating The Little Mermaid in 1989. But that wasn't the beginning of my relationship with fairy tales... it just brought them to life in a new way. I remember watching the old version of The Little Mermaid over and over {which was much closer to the original story with quite a different ending than the Disney version} and feeling so sad that she was separated forever from her family. I also recall being creeped out that Thumbelina was going to be forced to marry a mole; wondering if I would pass as a real princess by knowing there was a pea under my mattress if someone put it there; feeling it was gross for a grown man to walk naked down the street, even if he was a fictional emperor; being afraid of a little, evil man who requested so much of you if you couldn't figure out his name; not liking the idea of cannibalism that was so prevalent in Hansel and Gretel -- even though I didn't know what cannibalism was; and basically being appalled at the litany of completely irresponsible parents in these stories {and hoping my own mother didn't get any ideas from them}.  Regardless, I kept reading the stories, and wanting them read to me. Because even if Cinderella had lost both of her parents {a strong fear of mine as a child} and then lived as a slave with her yucky, mean stepmother, she was still Cinderella. She sang with animals, experienced magic, and was beautiful... and if you want to hook a five year-old, you pretty much have it made with those virtues right there. 

Which leads me to...

The questions of the day: 

Which fairytale heroine would you be?

and 

Which fairytale do you think is the strangest {and why}?

I have a hard time deciding. Truthfully I loved fairy tales, even if most of them had something in their plot that was somewhat disturbing to me as a child. Even Beauty and the Beast, who's Disney Princess is my favorite, had me in arms as a kid. I can remember watching it thinking, "does nobody else see that she is falling in love with an animal?! Why doesn't this bother anybody?" But I loved the fact that Belle was a complete bookworm and felt a little different than the people around her, so I forgave her for coming too close to beastiality for my comfort and loved the princess and all her talking appliances anyway. Plus,  I was relieved that at the end he became a man again and her father got to come live in the castle with them. Because, as a child, the thought of your parents not living with you and your handsome husband prince is just absurd. {And what I'm not telling you is that at 30 I still feel the same way... if my mom and brother would consent, I would make them each build a house on either side of me so I could see them all the time. But let's pretend I only felt that way as a child, because it tends to seem a little more normal. :)}

Little House in the Big Woods

I may have been the only little girl to never have read the Little House on the Prairie series. They just didn't interest me. I loved The Babysitter's Club and The Boxcar Children. I was partial to Sweet Valley High, and adored the Mrs. Piggle Wiggle books. I lived in the children's section of the bookstore, but I didn't ever gravitate towards Laura Ingalls Wilder. I saw her on the shelf, I may have even owned one of the books, but I never read her. At least not that I can remember. 

So, for part of the reading challenge that I am doing, I chose Little House in the Big Woods (the first book of the series) to read for one of the tasks. 

I flew through it. The easy language and the big font definitely helped with that, but there was also something comforting about it. I would read it before bed and fall asleep easily imagining this little quaint house in the woods with such sweet things happening inside. Of course, reading about pioneer life is romantic in the form of a children's book, and I imagine there was more not romantic about it than this book portrays. However, Wilder does describe some of what they had to do in the way of hunting animals, and cooking them and using their parts. A few paragraphs here and there had me making faces... I was not expecting them in this otherwise light, fluffy book. I tried to imagine what I would have thought reading those same passages as a child in the 1980's and I'm pretty sure I would have been a little upset with some serious questions for my mom. But I realize that this was first published in the early 1930's, and their way of life back then, albeit more modern than the woods, was not as far removed as we are today. This was a story of their grandparents (and possibly even parents). For me this was a story of a woman who was born over a 100 years before me and living in a time and situation that can almost not be replicated today. 

I imagine I will finish this series, challenge or not. It will have to wait, but I do plan on putting these books on my to-read list. Because I really can't think of anything out there today that is such a wholesome and natural series for children. While it's antiquated, it is also unique and charming. And maybe my future daughters will not be interested in what it was like to live in a desolate area with only your family to rely on and nature to entertain you, and that's ok. Maybe it's a book they will have to wait until they're thirty and living in a city and a time where there are too many things happening all at once with everyone living on top of each other to appreciate the legacy this book holds.  
Four Coconuts

xo,
The Coconut Librarian