Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in lbeck's LiveJournal:

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Wednesday, December 8th, 2004
9:02 pm	Term Paper On a quiet December night two hundred years ago, a family sits in a fire-lit room listening to mother tell a fairy tale while she works at her loom. In this comfortable setting, mother soothes her children with a story. The tales she tells will remain in her children’s hearts throughout their lifetime and would be passed on through the generations from mother to child, and especially importantly, from mother to daughter. Years later, though, the big names that come to mind when one meditates on fairy tales are ones such as the Grimm Brothers, Charles Perrault, Gianfrancesco Straparola, and Giambattista Basile. Notably, the key figures in the fairy tale canon are all male. Seemingly, then, females played a negligible role in the fairy tale tradition. However, this understanding is entirely too simplistic. While both sexes undoubtedly have contributed a great deal, the art of story-telling is intimately linked to a matrilineal history through the association of females with weaving. The analogy between weaving and story-telling is time old. Indeed, as many have pointed out, the root in the word ‘textile’ is none other than ‘text.’ According to the Webster’s New World Dictionary, the word ‘textile’ is defined as what has to do with weaving and woven fabrics. Moreover, the word ‘text’ is defined by this same source first and foremost as “fabric,” only secondly to be defined as “the actual structure of words in a piece of writing or printing”. It is important to recognize also that weaving was considered a vital part to the female persona all throughout the time of the oral tradition. This link in language, then, between writing and weaving is significant because it highlights the link between women and the oral tradition. Even as far back as the classical Greek tradition, weaving was depicted in many tales. For instance, Penelope, Odysseus’s wife in Homer’s great epic The Odyssey, is an example of a woman’s employment of weaving to evade her suitors. She essentially ‘weaves’ a tale (or perhaps more accurately, an excuse) to her many suitors that are pressuring her to marry. Interestingly enough, it is through her loom that she constructs a tale that delays and resists her rude suitors. Because Penelope has virtually no power to deny her suitors because of her subservient position in the society, Penelope’s tapestry, then, becomes her voice of protest to another marriage. Symbolically, Penelope represents how important the loom was to the female persona. This suggests that the loom embodied power, and in many instances, for women it was the power of voice. Furthermore, ancient Greek mythology shows the power associated with the woman’s art of weaving as a metaphor for voice. As Marina Warner points out in her essay “The Old Wives’ Tale,” the three Fates represent a foundational connection of women and story-telling through weaving. Not only do these three women ultimately hold more power than Zeus because they alone are able to decide life and death for mortals by weaving their thread of life, the very phrase ‘fairy tale’ pays homage to their influence. The word ‘fairy’ comes from the Latin word ‘fata,’ which is translated as ‘fate.’ Moreover, the word ‘fata’ is a variant of the word ‘fatum,’ which literally means that which is spoken (Warner). The Brother’s Grimm recorded the tale of the “Three Spinners,” which not only acknowledges the importance of weaving in women’s lives, but also suggests a connection to the other three spinners: the Fates. The Fates, therefore, demonstrated the power that women held because of their looms, as it was, in this instance, the vehicle through which they were able to weave the story of one’s life. Additionally, the fairy tale itself has a matrilineal heritage in what might be considered very foundational: its name. The fairy tale is not the only label of these tales that have sprung from female roots, Plato dismissively called such fairy tales “mythos graos” in the first reference to the genre, which is translated as an ‘old wives tale’ (Warner). It seems even wise Plato understood that these stories were intimately tied to the feminine world. As the term ‘old wives tale’ suggests, the stories that have been passed along from generation to generation are marked by a gender. This may be due to the fact that these tales were passed along through the network of peasant nursemaids and children’s caretakers (Rowe). Because these women sang or told the stories that we consider ‘fairy tales’ or ‘children’s stories,’ essentially perpetuating the art, the women had a profound impact on the shape of literature as we know it today, especially as it is manifested in children’s literature. In addition to the loom as a representation for voice, it also was a strong symbol for the domestic sphere. Weaving is also inherently connected to the women’s world because it is connected to the domestic sphere, which is occupied by the feminine. Just as the loom was located in the domestic realm during the oral tradition, so too were women, and consequently, the stories they told. The home therefore, became a hot-spot for the transmission and invention of variants of oral tales. Symbolically, in the opening of the classic fairy tale “Snow White,” the Queen depicted as sitting and sewing (Gilbert and Gubar). This opening scene upholds expectations about women and their location within the larger social construct. It also highlights an important element to the female persona, the loom, which is so essential to the domestic sphere, and the fairy tale tradition. The depiction of a woman weaving at her loom suggests a kind of narration through textiles with pictures or graphic images, as they lacked authority in the spoken word. This echoes the Odyssey’s image of Penelope at her loom. Yet another example of the female knowledge to spin a tale is seen in the character of Scheherazade. Scheherazade arguably represents the ultimate female as weaver of tales. This witty woman uses her skills as a master of the spoken word to preserve her own life from the insane king. The common motif of the female persona in association with the loom is seen in tales that span across time and cultures, suggesting that weaving and the loom are ways in which texts exhibit intertextuality. Although Jack Zipes maintains in his essay “Cross-Cultural Connections” that, “we have no proof that women were the “originators” and/or prime tellers of tales, the primeval spinners” (Zipes), it is important to note that the argument for women’s prominent role in shaping the oral and codified fairy tale tradition is demonstrated clearly in the fact that the Grimm Brother’s collected their tales orally primarily from many women. Darnton states in his essay “The Meaning of Mother Goose,” that the Grimm brothers got “Puss ‘n Boots,” “Bluebeard” and a few other stories from Jeannette Hassenpflug…and she learned them from her mother” (Darnton). In addition to what has already been outlined with regards to the females association with stories through the art of weaving, this fact might actually provide evidence or “proof” that women did indeed occupy an essential role in the life and perpetuation of oral tales. Clearly, the art of story-telling is foundationally essential to a culture rooted in the oral tradition, as was ancient Greece’s as well as Europe’s. While women were denied much of a voice in the culture, this certainly did not prevent them from having a dramatic impact on the face of fairy tales. The function of the loom is an important one symbolically and practically for women who were often deprived of the power of voice. Ultimately, the weaving of the thread of the loom operates as a metaphor for the weaving of tales, therefore, to deny the significant matrilineal history of what has come to be known as ‘children’s tales’ is entirely over simplistic. Works Cited Darnton, Robert. “The Meaning of Mother Goose.” The Classic Fairy Tales. Ed. Maria Tatar. Norton and Company Inc: New York, 1999. 282. Gilbert, Sandra and Susan Gubar. “Snow White and Her Wicked Stepmother.” The Classic Fairy Tales. Ed. Maria Tatar. Norton and Company Inc: New York, 1999. 292. Rowe, Karen. “The Female Voice in Folklore and Fairy Tale.” The Classic Fairy Tales. Ed. Maria Tatar. Norton and Company Inc: New York, 1999. 306. Warner, Marina. “The Old Wives’ Tale.” The Classic Fairy Tales. Ed. Maria Tatar. Norton and Company Inc: New York, 1999. 309-316. Zipes, Jack. “Cross Cultural Connections and the Contamination of the Classical Fairy Tale.” The Great Fairy Tale Tradition. Ed. Jack Zipes. Norton Critical Edition: New York, 2001. 850. (Comment on this)
Monday, November 22nd, 2004
11:21 am	JD Salinger Perhaps I'm especially intrigued with him because he is such a recluse. People always are interested in recluses. What is it that they don't want us to know? Why don't they want us to know them? Perhaps it is because I'm impressed with his literary work. I'm not entirely sure what makes me so inclined to know more about JD Salinger, but upon a little google searching, there was more than ample information on this man who supposedly is so secretive. He was born in 1919 in New York. This means that by the time he was around 20 years old, it was the 1940's of New York. Interestingly enough, in class one of the most common comments that everyone had about the nature of his writing was that he created a character that we all felt we could relate to. Perhaps this is because JD Salinger really found himself in the character of Holden Caufield as he was around the age of college students himself. At any rate, our class pretty much reached a consensus that JD Salinger had made an impression on us all. One biographer, Paul Alexander, speculated that Salinger enjoyed the attention that he recieved from being a recluse. He appreciated the mystique surrounding him and it is probably true that it has helped his book sales. What other way can we get to know this intrigueing man except through his books. Which, as the details of his own life suggest, we might find out a great deal about JD Salinger himself through his characters. (Comment on this)
Sunday, November 21st, 2004
8:02 pm	The Catcher in the Rye IF a body seen a body a comin' through the Rye... or was it IF a body catch a body a comin' through the Rye? The difference between makes a great deal of difference for old Holden Caufield. Indeed, his fantasy life role was to catch a body comin through the rye so that they don't fall off the cliff. He'd just hang out at the edge of some "crazy cliff" and if little kids got too close and might fall off, he'd grab them up and save them. Significantly, it is his little sister Phoebe who corrects him. Actually, it is not catch a body, it's seen a body. So much for that. However, it is important that it is his little sister who straightens him out because of the theme of children saving throughout the book. While Holden thinks that he would be the ideal candidate to save little kids, little kids in reality are saving him. This is seen throughout the entire book. This is demonstrated first in her correction of Holden. Phoebe seems to have no tolerance for any of his mess-ups in songs or anything else. SHe knew he was in trouble from the moment he came home and yet she is simultaneously the one who scolds him and feels the most anxiety for him. She is obviously the character in the book who is depicted as having the most sincere concern for Holden. Pheobe, or possibly the youngest character in the book of any importance, also saves Holden in another way. For instance, when Holden wants to talk to someone on the phone because he is so lonely, he desires most to speak to his little sister Phoebe. THis indicates that Phoebe is an important person in his life. He seems drawn to her no-none sense kind of attitude and sweet child like innocence all rolled into one person. Phoebe seems to act as the rock that Holden needs to keep himself grounded in reality otherwise he would completely be out of his mind. Additionally, Phoebe is the character who ultimately prevents Holden from losing all hope and turning away from his life entirely in his depression. Holden decides to up and leave everything at one point in the story. He is determined that there is nothing left for him in the New York of the 1940's. However, as if in one last desperate cry for help, he writes Phoebe a note informing her of his intentions to leave. When Phoebe receives his note, she absolutely resolves to go with Holden. Holden's little sister shows up to what Holden thinks will be their goodbyes with a suit case she has drug across the park. This is a touching moment in the book and solidifies the important role that she will play in the book because of her influence on Holden. HOlden is then forced to confront the reality of his decision and after a few hours together at the zoo, he changes his mind about leaving. Phoebe's love for her brother is what saves him ultimately. Moreover, the fact that Phoebe is a little girl is crucial to her character because J.D. Salinger seems to suggest that children, although they may be discredited and seen as having little power in the world of adults, may be the most influential and important people in the world. (Comment on this)
Saturday, November 6th, 2004
3:13 pm	Inventing Children The concept of "children" is a complex one. Several of our theorists have deconstucted the notion of literature for children, the lessons for children, the changing ideas about children (such as Zohar Shavit), but we've not yet seen any of these theory in action. That is to say, why didn't Norton include a few sociological or psychological essays on the child. Wouldn't Piaget's stages of development have a great deal to add to the discussion of children generally? However, what lies at the heart of all of these individual scholarly articles is an illustration of the larger preoccupation society as a whole has with the child. Interestingly enough, I have been working with fifth grade boys all semester and to juxtapose what I've been reading and what I've observed is quite intrigueing. While at times my boys will fall into some of the stereotypes of children (i.e. they have an interest in bugs and the "simple" things in life) they more often diverge from the path of what a child is supposed to be. For instance, one of my kids proudly proclaimed that he was in his "piro-phase, like most kids his age, obviously!" This to me seemed very interesting. A child was aware of his own social and cognitive development. Wait, one might say, I though kids were supposed to be innocent. It turns out, in my experience, that this stereotype was more often than not, proved wrong! Furthermore, one of the kids has an "obsession with cheese and volcom" (I guess "Volcom" is a brand name for skaters). To me this suggests that kids are very much aware of the external pressures of their times (i.e consumerism) and thus to call them innocent is a misguided term. What becomes apparent to me when I reflect upon all of the various readings and "field work" that I've done is there is certainly a kind of construction we do with regards to the concept of child. We, either consciously or unconsciously, shape what the "idea" of child should mean and we seek to affirm those ideas in our everyday world. Although the essays that we have been reading are obviously very smart and in many ways address the flaws in this kind of thinking, the fact that they meditate and present an argument about the state of the child is in of itself shaping our idea of child. Indeed this theme came up in the lecture on Thursday. Lynda argued with the example of "LITTLE GOODY TWO-ShOES" in mind, that what is being invented is not literature, but children. Current Mood: peaceful (Comment on this)
Tuesday, November 2nd, 2004
5:36 pm	Picture books It was suggested in Zipes essay "Breaking the Disney Spell" that pictures worked in a way similar to the actual plot of the story. That is to say that the pictures themselves could function as a text unto themselves. If we take Walt Disney as an example, we see at least that he monopolized on the fairy tale by adding an element that was not developed to the degree that he would eventually take it to: animation. For Disney, animation was a way to get the audiences attention and wonder. He used his artistic and technical skills to shape the fairy tale in a way that had not yet been done up to that point. Although he changed the stories in often times significant ways, it would be reasonable to say that Disney's success was not because of his alterations to a few plot lines or characters, but rather his inclusion of the extraordinary: the visual. This in itself is fascinating. One was able to reinvent something just by supplementing the imagination with some images? Seems too simple to be true. However, considering the numerous children's books that are not only illustrated, but illustrated beautifully with attention to color, form and all of those things that we find aesthetically pleasing to look at, it might suggest that the power of the picture is huge! If pictures are meant to provide the imagination with a kind of guide to the story, then the viewer or the reader is entirely in the hands of the artist. They are told the story, and in addition to that, they are provided with the scenes that would otherwise preside only in their imaginations. By including the illustration or the animation to a story, the artist has essentially taken control to a degree of the imagination of his or her audience. If we buy this (which, let's just say we do) the picture would then by extension have an amazing power. It could provide the reader with a One And Only way to interpret their text. No more of this silly imagining one's own version. It is done for them already and the artist has complete control. Furthermore, if the picture could provide a supplement to the tale, in doing so, it could also provide a sub-plot. By this I mean that the picture might have the ability to provide a second narration to the primary one by expanding on or even by being contradictory to the story itself. For instance, say there is a story about a little girl who pulled the cat's tail and so she was bad. IF the illustration depicts her as being given a piece of candy with a little clump of fur in her hand, the illustration might suggest something entirely different from the text of the story. Pictures then would have the power to operate as yet another way that the authors or creators of children's stories could be subversive to the dominant ideals or morals of society if done in a clever or subtle enough way. (Comment on this)
Saturday, October 30th, 2004
8:31 pm	Ghost Stories Every week I work with kids in the "PEAKS" program at Longfellow schools. I have four fifth grade boys: DO WE HAVE FUN! Normally, we work on physics. The usual dry ice rockets and so forth. But, it was working with them on Friday this week. That is, the last hour and a half of their day. This means one thing in elementary school language: HALLOWEEN PARTY! I was just planning on hanging out this time (because I didn't want to take them away from a class party!) but the guys still wanted to work with me. They were obviously still hyped off the pounds and pounds of candy and pizza they no doubt consumed that day and so to do anything involving Issac Newton was no doubt out of the picture. We decided instead to challenge the other "PEAKS" group to a halloween-off. This was a group test revolving around the halloween tradition: You know, what is Halloween actually a celebration of? Why do we go tick-or treating? How much did the largest pumkin pie weigh? By the end of our 10 question test, it was all tied up, the groups were neck and neck for the prize: More candy, of course! So, it was decided that we should have a scary story-telling contest. Each team was to come up with their own ghost story and elect someone from their team to tell it. (We turned off the lights to set the mood). In this spooky atmosphere, the tell-off began. Now, I could tell you the amazing story that each team told. But what I think is more astounding is the kids ability to tell a story. The tales that they told were not some fifteen second watered down rendition of some cheesy story that doesn't even count as a tale, they beautifully articulated stories that held their audience's attention! They were so well told that I couldn't beleive they were in the fifth grade! They did the voices, remembered dramatic pauses, built tension and conflict in their tales and made us all yelp at the end! I was told that the oral tradition is on the way out. After this Friday, I am inclined to say: NOT SO! These kids showed an acute awareness of the magic of story and amazed me with their skill! This to me suggests that in the homes of these kids, their parents are encouraging the story and providing an enviroment that fosters story-tellers! Current Mood: enthralled (Comment on this)
Thursday, October 28th, 2004
3:51 pm	Re-learning my ABC's I remember the long car rides up to Flathead Lake every summer. Although they seemingly took forever, it was alright because it meant that we were there for the rest of the summer months. Additionally, car rides were usually not that bad because there were always tapes and songs to make the trip a little more bearable. One of these songs, I remember, was the "ABC" song. Over and over my parents had the joy of listening to their children celebrate their knowledge. After the song got boring, we would change the ABC's into a game: for every letter in the alphabet, you would have to bring that thing to the picnic and keep going through the twenty six letters until someone forgot what that person was bringing. Needless to say, what our letters stood for was nothing like the things that were prescribed in the early alphabet books of the 1840's that were clearly located in the bible. "A is for ADAM, from the dust did God create, To dwell in Eden's bowers, in blissful state; But Sin--a serpent we should ever shun,--Poisoned a life so happily begun." (Pretty intense stuff for little four year olds learning their ABC's!) The story of the ABC's, as we learned on Tuesday's lecture, was a complex one indeed! Initially, it was necessary to begin with a definition of a child. When the class wasn't able to do that, we had to go back a long way in history to the time of the creation of the bible. Here we learned that there were two basic ways of defining the European and American definition of "child." This definition was connection to the idea of sin and redemption. At this point I had to pause, what does sin and redemption have to do with children's literature or the ABC's? This was only made clear a while later in the lecture when everything became clear. What is inherently connected to the definition of child and the religion is the book. Whether it be the book of ABC's or the bible, the book, or more specifically, literacy, had very much to do with children and the literature that is created for them. We discovered that in Christianity, the child is the most sacred "language" they have. The child is a way in which innocence is represented as well as risk. The child must then be saved somehow and brought to salvation. Here it becomes clear where children's literature comes in. In order to save the child, the child must be literate to read the book that allows them to learn the religious scripture and achieve salvation. The Primer, then, became in essence, a didactic children's book. In it, we discover that the child simultaneously learns the basics of literacy and many principles of the Christian faith. What sinners they were etc. etc. From this other things in history began to make much more sense. For instance, consider the black African slave in America. A law that was on the books at this time was that it was illegal for literacy to be taught to any slave. Why might this be? I had always been taught that if they were literate they would be able to gain more power politically by being more educated and also become more aware of their own potential. However, keeping the idea of salvation in mind, something else became clear: Some people considered slaves to be less than human. Furthermore, at that time, to be human it meant that one had a soul. Additionally, the book essentially equaled salvation. Therefore, if blacks were allowed to read, they must be allowed salvation and therefore, they were human. It is obvious that a lot is at stake when it comes to literacy and the book. But back to children's literature. From the highly religious primer that basically preached to the children in a not so subtle way, we move into the 1800's, at which point there is a shift that is clearly seen in these primers. We move a little further away from the religious and into the secular. That is to say that instead of "A" is for ADAM, we see that "A" is for APE and "B" is for BELL. The lessons in these books become relentlessly domestic and demonstrate a closeness to nature. Interestingly enough, both of these things are connected with the archetype of the feminine. It is fascinating then to consider that matrilineal nature that fairy tales honor compared to that of the book generally. On the surface at least, these Primers are not religious. These shifts illustrate a tension or quarrel between didacticisism and entertainment. Children surely needed to have their attention held while they earned their salvation and the ABC's, but was this in some way taking away from the "seriousness" of the business at hand? Again, it is apparent that imagination is something that was strongly debated over as far back as the making of the ABC's. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, October 26th, 2004
2:43 pm	Jack Zipes Jack Zipes went into this essay with some assumptions. He didn't outright slam Disney into the ground as the title might suggest to some. Instead, he lured his readers in and then, only at the end of his essay did he (as kindly as possible) "drive" his point home. In only his first few lines he suggests, "Walt Disney cast a spell on the fairy tale." This could be read either a positive or a negative phenomena. This, I think, was very wise of the author because as your fairy tale enthusiast is reading this today in America, one can make a few assumptions about them. The probably have been exposed to other fairy tales from a number of different sources, if not somewhere else, than in the "Classic Fairy Tale" book itself. Furthermore, and most importantly, the writer may assume that the reader has somewhere along his or her life encountered a Disney movie or two. It might not be too far fetched so say also that that reader probably encountered those animations in their childhood (a time in many peoples lives that are reflected upon fondly). Because these tales were so much a part of the movie collection that we had as children, it might be difficult for us all to shake our fists angrily at Disney (after all, who didn't love those helpful little mice in Cinderella?) So, by not bashing Disney, but instead, posing him as an interesting subject for discussion, readers would be more willing to continue reading, however reluctantly. In this essay, Zipes ultimately argues that Disney employed the most up-to date technological strategies, which allowed him to become the "radical filmmaker who changed our way of viewing fairy tales" and that his "revolutionary technical means capitalized on American innocence and utopianism to reinforce the social and political status quo." Furthermore, that his radicalism was essentially rooted in his sense of right and rightousness. Alright, we are getting a little more to the point here. But before he goes on any more to explain further his argument, he enlightens his readers with a brief history of the fairy tale through its evolution from oral to written and all of the ramifications that followed that shift. In its oral tradition, the fairy tale promoted a sense of community, something termed in this work as "telos." When it was codified, however, numerous things changed, including that same promotion of community. The author lists nine significant changes that took place at this time. That the fairy tale: 1) fostered elitism and separatism of the social classes 2) was given more legitimacy because of the fact that it was written down 3) was read to soothe a child's anxieties 4) reinforced patriarchal ideals 5) became property 6) encouraged the rags to riches idea 7) fostered tension between oral and literary 8) promoted a full scale debate about oral folk tales and literary fairy tales 9) the images in those fairy tales consided directly with the text It seemed to me, ultimately, when examining this list of the things the written fairy tales does, is that he argues that the fairy tale was more or less an inhibitor to "radical" or subversive ideas once it was actually written down. Although the author does not summarize these points in this way, he does say that the codification of the fairy tale allowed for the "domestication of the imagination." Disney enters in around this point of the images that began to accompany the fairy tale in its written form. With images, Disney discovered that he could capture an audiences imagination without much regard for the story. He was able to seduce the audience with animation. Using his "animation as trickery," as the author describes it, Disney was able to "cast the commodity spell" and to institutionalize the fairy tale in a way that altered the genere completely. However, at this point in his essay we are not sure what about it is "breaking the Disney spell" at all. It is only in the end of his essay where he summarizes the ultimate changes that occured for the genere of the fairy tale that we become aware of the "sadness" that it might entail. By listing the changes from the oral to literary (which he viewed as a degradation) and furthermore the changes from the literary genre to the genere monopolized by Disney, to we recognize that he suggests another degradation of the fairy tale agian. He concludes that there "is something sad about the manner which Disney "violated" the litereary henre of the fairy tale." The list of changes from literary to Disney were as follows: 1) the technique takes is more important than the story itself and the technology is used to celebrate the technician 2) a narration through seduction 3) the images promote a sense of harmony and wholeness 4) the characters are one-dimentional 5) there is a domestication related to colonization --"american" 6) the emphasis on control and order is established 7) the private reading pleasure is replaced by viewing an impersonal cinema 8) a non-reflective viewing emerges (Comment on this)
Sunday, October 24th, 2004
9:20 am	classmate's displaced fairy tale After reading a few other stories on line in addition to those we have been reading in class, I came upon Bridget's story. The first sentence caught my attention and I was intrigued throughout the entire suspenseful tale. Her displaced fairy tale, entitled, "A Hero's Tale: My Tale" is one of mystery and confusion. By the end of the tale, it was clear that the fairy tale she had displaced was none other than the spooky story of Bluebeard. We become aware in the first sentence that we are dealing with a serial killer. Furthermore, he the killer is a BEARDED MALE. Two clear hints to the displaced fairy tale already. Additionally, the seiral killer's fetishes revolve around marriage. Bluebeard is said by some to be a cautionary tale about marriage and the dangers that await in the "sacred institution." Similarly then, the displaced Bluebeard tale holds true to some of these same issues as in the original text. It is interesting how many parallels there are in this story to the original. Another similarity between the two text is in the persona of Bluebeard himself. He is shrouded in mystery and is essentially an enigma to everyone: "Looking up, I caught only a glimpse of a tall dark-haired man before he turned the corner and was gone." This is the first introduction we have to the displaced character of Bluebeard and he holds true to the persona of the figure in the fairy tale Bluebeard. Interestingly enough, not all of the illusions in this story are necessarily tied only to those in the tale of Bluebeard. A few of the elements in Bridget's tale are references to commonalities that are in many fairy tales. For one, she uses the magical number "Three." This number seems to be a favorite of the fairy tale tradition. "This man has already kidnapped and slautghtered THREE young women." Yet another seemingly generic fairy tale element is the motif of the fool. In little red riding hood, Hansel and Gretel and many more, the story is ultimately made possible by the foolishness of little girls. This same motif comes up in Bridget's tale also: "What could possible make me think it was okay to accept his hand and walk across the threshold? I don't know what possessed me to, but I did it. I didn't turn and run like I should have..." Finally, one last element is packed into this short displaced tale about the infamous Bluebeard: the enchantment of the woman. In many fairy tales we see this same motif. What made Beauty ascend those scarry stairs following the green light to the spinning wheel anyway? We ultimately attribute it to enchantment. In this story too there is an element of enchantment: "the constant stream of murmurings that poured from his mouth began to turn into a melodic and hypnotic stream drawing me onward." I chose this story because I think it is an exemplary displaced fairy tale. The author weaves in not only different elements from Bluebeard, but also uses generic elements of fairy tale. Although many elements are the same, I think that the story is certainly displaced far enough because enough of the plot line is altered. This story was exciting and fun to read! (Comment on this)
Wednesday, October 20th, 2004
4:56 pm	Fairy Tales Displaced Further I found the out loud reading of our displaced fairy tales in class to be really interesting and enjoyable. A word about the writers in our class: creative and very amusing! With that said, I have found that I am reading literature lately, i.e. since the issue of 'all literature is displaced myth' thing came up, in a way that I never have before. Suddenly I have become incredibly suspicious of everything I read. The movie "So I Married an Axe Murderer" is merely Bluebeard, in a pretty obvious way only with a gender reversal. I'm finding fairy tales in everything from slave narratives in my American Literature class to Shakespeare's plays in British Lit. All of this is very confusing to me. How, if I was raised on fairy tales--as so many of us were-- did I not notice this before. The question arises for me, are we, the supposed future writers, destined to merely say what has already been said? Are we doing nothing more than plagiarizing what has already been written, even if we don't know it. Isn't that some kind of a breech in academic morality? Emerson stresses the importance of the original thought, but how are we to have an original thought or create an original essay or story from that thought if all of the motifs and stories have already been told in myth? A confusing issue indeed! I suppose the hope of this is that we will create a really terrific signature from the pre-established archetype. So I'm destined for signature, I guess I can deal with that. still sad though. I'm not sure if I know how I may reconcile this, I feel a little bit like a fraud. Current Mood: distressed (Comment on this)
Monday, October 18th, 2004
1:46 pm	Zohar Shavit Zohar Shavit's essay "The Concept of Childhood and Children's Folktales: Test Case--Little Red Riding Hood" was helpful in shedding light on the topic of children's literature generally. I had not yet paused to think of the evolution of children's literature at all in the first place. It seemed to me a thing that would be pretty much around since the beginning of time: you had a kid, you read them stories. Shavit addresses this point in his essay: "Although children's literature is today a 'natural' phenomenon taken for granted in any national literature, it is a relatively new development--less than two hundred years old. Books written especially for children were virtually unknown until the eighteenth century..." (317). From this statement, the author goes on to describe in pretty extensive detail the "development" of the concept of the child and then the concept of children's literature. Only once these two essential things are solidly established does he begin to discuss the relationship between the child and the literature, resulting in a comparison between the two big ones: The Grimm Brothers and Perrault. Although I felt that this essay was a little too preoccupied with flowery and complex phrases, it was nonetheless very interesting when viewed in light of our class. We have discussed very little about "children's literature" progression through time and its development. The question of when did it develop, I think, is an important one to consider though. This article did just that. I thought that the parts on the "concept" of childhood was especially interesting as it changed through time: (calling your kids into the parlor because you are bored and want some amusement! Although at first it seems very strange, I was wondering, is it really that different now when uncle Joe comes over for Christmas?... a sad thought). The concept of child as seen separate from the adults was drawn under the assumption that they had different needs. It only took humans until the seventeenth century to figure this out. Once this very important change occurred in thinking about children, children's literature began to develop. If we buy into the argument that all children's literature may be reduced down to essential motifs as outlined by Propp and friends, then indeed we owe a great deal to this epiphany about the concept of the child. Literature as a whole would be indebted to the child. Even if we throw out the Propp thesis, we are still left with the elements of children's literature that continue to show up today in their various manifestations, and therefore, our understanding of children ultimately allowed us to have literature and movies in the form that we enjoy them in today. Current Mood: jubilant (Comment on this)
Thursday, October 14th, 2004
4:14 pm	Displaced Fairy Tale Lindsay Beck Displaced Fairy tale 10/19/04 The Shelter The plump green husks that held the corn told farmers that it was time to harvest somewhere in Iowa. Ray’s combine, once brilliant red, was now faded from years of subjection to harsh dust encrusted winds. The fruits of his toils had provided for his family: he had reason to be proud. Old now, his skin like leather and his hands cracked, he thought of his kids, both now married endowed with a few kids living far away in busy cities. He thought of his wife, too: probably cooking a casserole right now for dinner. He knew he had reason to be content with his life and settle down peacefully with the woman he had married so long ago, but there was a feeling he had that told him something was not right. “Ray,” she said sweetly, gently placing her hand on his shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts, “what are you doing out here? Won’t you come and eat something?” Together they walked back through the lawn to their house. Irene paused, “Oh, Dear, I noticed today that the door to the bomb shelter was open. I thought we had locked that thing years ago?” “Right, well, I thought I had better check to make sure that it was still in order.” Ray’s voice was deep and reassuring. Irene nodded. That night, Ray couldn’t sleep. He was disturbed by dreams. He quietly crept out of bed, careful not to wake his wife. He paced the hall for hours, tuning in his mind the matters that had been more and more of a burden to him over the last… How many years had he become increasingly more aware? Aware, or was it anxious? about matters of great importance, he knew: he watched the news. One only had to flip through the six channels that his farm house received to know that tensions were rising in unstable countries like Iraq and North Korea and he knew ultimately it would culminate in great disaster: if not sooner, than later. Years had passed. Each month, indeed each day, he was seized by the fear with more conviction than the day before. There were explosions in his head, and then, always, the fallout. He gazed out the great window that overlooked his land: a seemingly endless sea of corn. He could see from where he stood the solid wood door of the shelter, under which he knew was the all-saving steel door. The entrance to the salvation pressed itself flatly against a mound of dirt that had been erected years ago by his father. He thought perhaps they should remove the lock and chains that prevented one’s entrance; indeed, if anything did happen, would they have time to get the key? “Good morning, Dear” Irene chimed. “What a beautiful day, isn’t it? Shall we go for a walk? Would you like some coffee?” “Yes. No walk. I don’t have time today.” “Oh.” She poured his coffee. “Alright, then. What are you doing?” “Work, of course. I have a lot to do. Did you read this?” pointing to the paper sprawled out before him. The headline read, “Search For Weapons of Mass Destruction Underway in Iraq.” “Oh, my,” Irene sighed, “I’m just happy that we are here—safe—together.” “We aren’t safe!” Ray snapped. “Do you have any idea what these weapons could do? You just don’t have any idea of the devastation that these weapons could cause. You’re whole life, Irene, could be gone in an instant, everything you know—gone! The devastation of nuclear warfare is beyond your comprehension: we are certainly not safe.” “Oh, well, I suppose. But, dear, we can’t just live in fear. I’m just glad that we are together! Are you sure you can’t afford a walk today?” More dreams. Smoke, confusion, fire, fallout. Whirling images of headlines and ash. Ray climbed out of bed. After hours of pacing the halls, he moved slowly toward the front door. Through the lawn he walked in the darkness of the night toward the shelter, key in hand. Chains rattled as he unlocked the great padlock. He heaved the great steel door and climbed down the ladder into the safe womb in the ground. ‘More supplies,’ he thought. “Oh! Hello dear,” Irene stood in the kitchen in her flowing flannel night dress and slippers. “You’re up early today. I don’t have breakfast ready yet. Would you like oatmeal? Coffee?” “No,” Ray shot back, “I’ve got to go to town today. I’ll be leaving shortly.” Irene looked puzzled. “Well, what do you need in town?” “Things. We do not have sufficient supplies.” “Supplies? For what?” Irene stopped stirring the oatmeal and crept toward her husband. “For the shelter,” Ray said. Irene softly rubbed Ray’s shoulders. She bent over and lightly kissed the top of his head. “Dear, you seem a little strange lately. Is everything alright?” “Yes,” Ray said sharply. “You don’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation we have at hand. We are living in a very dangerous time, and I mean to be prepared for it.” “Oh, Ray,” Irene pleaded gently, “let’s just enjoy today! How about a lovely drive to the river, the trees are so lovely this time of year!” “I have to go.” Ray abruptly stood, put on his old dirty coat and grabbed they keys. Irene heard the truck leave the driveway just as she was throwing the oatmeal in the garbage. Ray was up. The dreams had aroused him from slumber and he could not resist the urge to return to his shelter, his comfort--the only thing that could save him now. Through the darkness he crept, down the ladder, and securely shut the door. However, the clang of the heavy steel door vibrated across the lawn and roused Irene from her sleep. She whimpered and rolled over to Ray’s side of the bed only to find his spot cold. “Ray?” Irene stepped into her slippers and made her way daintily down the hall. Her soft face looked angelic in the light that barely illuminated her features by the moon that shown in the great window. “Ray?” His coat was gone. Where could he be? She peered out the window. The wooden door that concealed the great entrance to the abhorred shelter was ajar. “Ray?” She wrapped herself in her shawl and walked across the lawn to the great door. “Ray?” The heavy metal that blocked the passage to the place where she feared her husband was, proved nearly too difficult for her to budge. After several tries, she managed to pry open the door. With her lantern in hand, she descended the ladder into the damp room. To her horror she discovered the transformation that had taken place. The walls were stalked with water bottles, piled from the ground to the roof. Batteries were staked in piles in one corner, and in another stood a great bulk of canned foods. Ropes were coiled on the walls and a radio lightly hummed on the side of a cot, on which her husband lay, sleeping peacefully. “Ray!” She pitifully gasped. “What are you doing? Ray awoke, quite calm. “What is going on? Please, Ray, come to bed!” “I can’t, Dear. I live here now.” (Comment on this)
Monday, October 11th, 2004
8:38 pm	Still on the Shelves Although I have thought about fairy tales on an individual basis, analyzing plot elements, themes and motifs, it occurred to me that I have not done an adequate job of looking at fairy tales as a collected work. It is interesting to consider why we are still reading these stories. How is it that I could walk into any movie store and get the old tales today? The shelf life of these tales is incredible; yes, I think they will probably be around long after Stephen King is out of our minds. What makes these tales seemingly invincible to "datedness" and why won't they go away? I've heard it said that the moral of the story is the story. However, surely these tales are read today for more reasons than they are an enjoyable read. I think that several critics offer interesting theories. For instance, Bettleheim would probably argue to this question that they are around today because of the fact that they speak to our very foundational psyche. The fairy tale, in other words, addresses our inner most psychological being, which is essential to our daily operation. Yet another critic, Darnton, might say that the reason is because they speak to our history, something that we find fascinating. Indeed, our own cultural history seems to be something that we insist on probing and searching for a better understanding of throughout the academic arena. Many other theorists would have many more ideas on why these tales stay on the shelf year after year after year. But to just take any one of these theories alone, seems to me, entirely too simplistic. Perhaps the reason might be a combination of all of these things. They probably do speak to us on a psychological level, also on a cultural anthropological level, they might also speak to us on a socio-economic level as well. The point is that all of these things would contribute to their enduring life. I think too, that the stories that we read to our children might reflect our fond memories of them as children ourselves. If we extend this then, their legacy might persist because of the fact that they are "children's tales" and we feel a parental obligation to read them as well as a personal attachment to them that we wish to bestow upon our own children. Additionally, I think that although these stories were created somewhere in a place during a time long, long ago, so to speak, they still speak to our understanding of "morality" and ethics that we wish to honor. These stories might then work as a device that is not only subversive, as we have explored in class, but also on a real level of ethics we wish for our children to understand. "The value of Friendship," for instance, was what I remember stood out in "The Wind in the Willows" when I was read it as a child. Although we may never know the precise formula or ratio of the things that make up the recipe for their endurability, I think it is fair to say that all of these things play a role in the phenomena. Current Mood: creative (Comment on this)
Sunday, October 10th, 2004
11:32 am	Beauty and the Beast The fairy tale Beauty and the Beast was always one of my favorites. The story itself seemed to me as a child to be more realistic than say, Sleeping Beauty. This may seem strange considering the fact that the tale includes the same amount of magic as the others and there is a talking "Beast" as a main character. But what made this particular story seem the more real was the fact that Beauty, the female protagonist, didn't just magically fall in love with her male protagonist as so many other "Beauties" did. It seemed silly to me that Sleeping Beauty, for instance, fell in love with a man just because he kissed her! In the case of Beauty, however, she falls in love with the Beast because she has spent time with him and gets to know him as a person. In this case, personality is a factor! How refreshing! Although Beauty and the Beast could certainly be read as a perpetuation of patriarchal ideals in the fact that in some versions Beauty was essentially "sold" to the Beast and she was the sacrifice of her father's mistakes, as was seen in the signature story in "Classical Fairy Tales," it also has element that actually give agency and power to the female character. Aarne Thompson classifies the tale of "Beauty and the Beast" as tale type "425C," which means "Search for a lost husband." If we chose to accept Thompson's categorization of tales, this in itself is in a way pro-feminist because it implies the active role of the female rather than the male. In some versions of the story, Beauty willingly chooses to go to the Beast for her father. Because Beauty is given this active rather than passive role in choosing her fate, we see the submissive female beginning to deteriorate. This shows some of the morals of the patriarchal society being questioned. Additionally, the character of Beauty herself is an insistence of the agency of females. Beauty is a much more developed character who is defined by her determination and intelligence. This contrasts with other female characters in the Fairy Tale tradition. Beauty was a intelligent, independent, and respectable young women which is a fit role model for any child. Beauty and the Beast portrays some of the most amazing testaments of women's struggles against arranged marriages and the definition of sexuality. Beauty is one example of the strong women characters in fairy tales. Finally, I found this tale to be something more of a testament to female agency than others because of the fact that it proved that female love was essential for the male self to be recovered. Beauty proves that female love is as important as male love. Current Mood: optimistic (Comment on this)
Friday, October 8th, 2004
3:18 pm	The Wind in the Willows The question was posed a few days ago in class why this marvelous so-called children's book we have been reading is entitled "Wind in the Willows" in the first place. What authors choose to entitle their pieces has always interested me. Whether it be an academic essay or a book I have found that a lot is often revealed in the titles of works. This is partially the reason why I was so troubled when I could not come up with a suitable answer to this question. I thought perhaps it was because the book is about movement. The logic for the title then comes from the following: Whether it be by Ratty down the river, Mole to a new home, or wild Toad down the open road in his car, the book seemed to have a motif of movement in it. Wind also has inherent characteristics of movement, as it races through the trees, rocks and also the willows. The interaction of the grounding home of the book--or the river abode-- and the wind then would spawn the title. Needless to say, I was not entirely satisfied with this answer. Things began to make much more sense for me however, after the class listened to the reading of Chapter seven of this book, the Piper at the Gates of Dawn. The magic that defined this chapter and that was in turn shaped by music led me to believe that there was more to the title than what I had previously believed. Indeed, the magic almost seemed to be equated with the music that was created by the god Pan. When Ratty first heard the music he said of it: "So beautiful and strange and new! Since it was to end so soon, I almost wish I had never heard it. For it has roused a longing in me that is pain, and nothing seems worth while but just to hear that sound once more and go on listening to it forever!" (pg. 132). However, after their direct encounter with the great Pan, "the kindly demigod is careful to bestow on those to whom he has revealed himself in their helping: the gift of forgetfulness." From then after, the pair conversed about their inkling that something had happened to them, something that they could not quite grasp, but was perhaps just a whispering in the wind. This might be a more satisfying reason that the author chose to entitle his book thus. It might suggest that every now and then we are urged into the remembrance of something magical and great. Although this may not even be a coherent thought or a complete recollection, the hint of its presence exists somewhere with in us. It might be that it is music that spurs this. Music that may be created by Pan, or the manifestation of Pan, the songs that are heard by the winds rushing through the willows. Current Mood: pleased (Comment on this)
Thursday, October 7th, 2004
6:00 pm	Lounging in "the big green chair"-- the place you go in our house if you want to read and become one with something soft-- I was finishing up the last few chapters of "The Wind in the Willows." Clarice, a regular, walked by and noticed my book: "Lindsay, I thought you had homework?" she said. I explained to her that this was my homework. "I think I loved that book!" she said, "Isn't that the one with all the MORALS?" Considering our conversations in class about how this text was subversive, I thought this a very interesting question; I told her it was indeed (although I don't think I meant it in the same way she did)! After I promised to let her read it after I was done, she left me with the wonders of the "Wind and the Willows" once again. Although I mentioned how this text might possibly be subversive in my last entry, after the class discussion today inspired by Bridget, I felt inspired to elaborate a little on this idea. As I mentioned before, the author of this text clearly seems to be setting the simple country life in higher regards than the busy industrious one of the city. However, I did not fully consider the encounter with the demi-god Pan in regards to his love of nature. From mythology, I know that Pan is the god of nature. He represents with his half-man half-beast form the natural world. This encounter with Pan, a pagan god, is the only direct mention of any god whatsoever in this entire work. Furthermore, this encounter is seen as one that is filled with so much glory it would not be so far fetched as to say that Pan was equal to the majesty and wonder that the christian god seems to represent: "...he looked in the very eyes of the Friend and Helper; say the backward sweep of the curved horns, gleaming in the growing daylight; saw the stern, hooked nose between the kindly eyes that were looking down on the humorously, while the bearded mouth broke into a half-smile at the corners; saw the rippling muscles on the arm that lay across the broad chest, the long supple hand still holding the pan-pipes only just fallen away from the parted lips; saw the splendid curves of the shaggy limbs disposed in majestic ease on the sward..." (pg. 135) This description of Pan is one that could indeed rival that of any god. Because this pagan god was included rather than the christian god that is connected to the dominant culture, it is an instance that represents Kenneth Grahame being subversive. This point is strengthened further when we consider that some went as far as to label Grahame a "neo-pagan," or one that adheres to some of the tenets of traditional paganism, including nature worship. Current Mood: contemplative (Comment on this)
Wednesday, October 6th, 2004
3:04 pm	The image “file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/All%20Users/Documents/My%20Pictures/willow2a.jpg” cannot be displayed, because it contains errors. Above is my attempt to paste a picture. Very much appropriate for what I was going to say, I decided to paste it. Clearly, this did not work out and so I'll try to describe it. It was a "pastel-ish" (if that could be a word for now) drawing of the River Rat and Mole on one of their picnics together. Delicious looking food is spread out upon their red and white checkered blanket and the whole scene looks bright from, what we can assume is, the sun shining above. Rat is reclining in the grass and Mole is tending to something in the picnic basket. The scene looks inviting indeed! Although my description of this picture does not do it justice, I think that it at least suggests one of the ways in which Kenneth Grahame's "The Wind in the Willows" might be somewhat subversive. Instead of glorifying the industrious busy ways of life that are associated with the city, and often, the desired way to live one's life, it suggests the value of country life and the simple pleasures that accompany that. Throughout the book we associate what is good with the river life. It is important to stress exactly what that life entails then: namely peace and harmony. The Wind in the Willows reflected the author's unhappiness in the real world. Contrasting with the peaceful contentedness that was associated with river life, was the woods: "Beyond the Wild Wood comes the Wild World," said the Rat. "And that's something that doesn't matter, either to you or me. I've never been there, and I'm never going, nor you either, if you've got any sense at all..." (from The Wind in the Willows). This suggests again that what is beyond country life is most horrible. One of the things that struck me most about "The Wind in the Willows" was almost the complete lack of any female characters. I marked in the pages of my book with a big star when on page 142, the first female character was introduced. Apparently, Kenneth Grahame told Theodore Roosevelt that his riverbank woods and fields were ''clean of the clash of sex.'' The book does look strangely like a British gentleman's club. However, when elements of the author's personal life are examined, it is more clear why he opted to rid his fantasy world of females. He married a woman named Elspeth Thomson in 1899, whose snobbish attitudes Grahame did not share. Living in a disastrous marriage, he did not view the relationship between the sexes as a "harmonious" one. I suggest that by dismissing the industrious life one lives in the city and by editing out females in his world, Kenneth Grahame is departing subtly from mainstream literature. Current Mood: busy (Comment on this)
Sunday, October 3rd, 2004
2:05 pm	She might have it right "The fairy tales had been right all along. The world was full of hostile, stupid giants and perilous castles and people who abandoned their children in the nearest forest. To succeed in this world you needed some special skill or patronage, plus remarkable luck; and it didn't hurt to be very good-looking. The other qualities that counted were wit, boldness, stubborn persistence, and an eye for the main chance. Kindness to those in trouble was also advisable-you never knew who might be useful to you later on." ---Alison Lurie, Don't Tell the Grown-Ups: Subversive Children's Literature, p. 18. <http://library.campbellhall.org/> This quote, taken from Alison Lurie's book "Don't Tell the Grown-Ups: Subversive Children's Literature," seemed to touch on a theme that seems to be ever reoccurring in our class discussions about fairy tales and folk lore. Although so many fairy tales were composed long ago at a date we can only guess at, they seem never to lose their relevance in our lives. Indeed, the characters seem to trascend the pages and materialize into individuals we encounter in our every day lives. Bluebeard, I'm pretty sure, lives down the street from me; and I'm almost certain that the little girl on her pink bike with training wheels across the street is wondering about her future husband and therefore is basically any number of princesses we have encountered. I read about "the stupid giants" and the "people who abandon their children in the nearest forest" every day not only in Maria Tatar's "the Classic Fairy Tales" but also in the Bozeman Daily Chronicle. Some of the attributes that seem to be useful to characters in the classic fairy tales are also beneficial for people today. I've noticed certainly that "wit, boldness, a stubborn persistence, and an eye for the main chance" are choice tools for any college student. So, perhaps we may not consciously acknowledge the relevance of fairy tales in our lives from day to day, it is there none the less. If we believe Dr. Sexson when he tells us that "all literature is displaced myth," and that "all life is displaced myth" then it rings true that our life may be discovered in the pages of literature, we just have to read a lot to figure out which story it is! Current Mood: amused (Comment on this)
Thursday, September 30th, 2004
2:50 pm	Classes Unite! Currently, I'm in "Classical and Biblical Literature." For this class, a paper is looming, and we are to come up with what it is that we are going to write about in 6-8 pages. After completing the Odyssey and Ovid's Metamorphosis, I was still clueless as to what I was going to argue in this paper. Hooray, then, that I attended the lecture last Tuesday. One of the ways to interpret a story through the lens of a feminist, it was said, was to focus on the use of the spoken word. Both who was doing the talking and who wasn't, as well as how they were doing the talking. Perhaps then characters could talk without speaking. Very strange indeed. However, it was argued that the "men" (non-biologically based) of the stories used the spoken vow, whereas, the women used their body to talk. Surely this was in Ovid! The maidens that were raped and then were found out because of their forms, or the emphasis on the three sisters who tell stories while they exempt themselves from Dionysus's celebration. Although I didn't have any kind of a solid thesis at this point yet, I had an idea: language. I'm pretty sure that there was some kind of divine intervention that night because later I decided to finish up the essays I still hadn't gotten to in Tatar's Classical Fairy Tales. Karen Rowe's "To Spin a Yarn: The Female Voice in Folklore and Fairy Tale" was next on my list... suspicious? Methinks yes! In this essay, so applicable to my wonderings already about the place of language in literature, Rowe argues that "to speak about voice in a tale so singularly about the voiceless is immediately to recognize that to tell a tale for women may be a way of breaking the silences" (p297). She then goes on-- gasp -- to relate stories of the folk to Ovid's Metamorphesis. Citing the story of Tereus and Philomela as well as many others, she makes the point that women do indeed speak in other ways besides verbally. One way that is so clear (now) in many greek myths is through weaving: "weaving a tale" comes to mind here. Using this decidedly female mode of art, it doubles then as a means through which women can at one level speak to their culture, but also a way that they are able to speak and understand another language of sisterhood. To me, this highlighted another way in which fairy tales can be subversive. If even by overtly silencing the women characters they are still able to speak, questions may be raised about who is constructing and perpetuating these stories. Are the Brother's Grimm the "fathers of Folklore"? Karen Rowe makes a very convincing argument to the contrary. Current Mood: excited (Comment on this)
Tuesday, September 28th, 2004
3:59 pm	guest speaker I went into class today with certain expectations. I was anticipating to be told about the various ways in which fairy tales were feminist and embodied feminine ideology. I expected that this be done through an analysis of certain characters: I wanted to be blown away by how "Snow White" was really a vessel through which feminist thought was conveyed. I also was expecting an argument for a feminist interpretation through plot and other elements of various tales. However, this was not the case. The lecture in fact went in a somewhat different direction. Although some basic characters were discussed, and stories were referenced. The lecture placed a greater emphasis on the various ways that these tales could be interpreted and then how aspects of the "feminine" were involved. Initially, we attempted to come up with a working definition of what a fairy tale is. Although a definition was never reached, throughout the lecture a few elements came up over and over again (I hope I caught them all) and I compiled these things as necessary to the definition of 'fairy tale': 1) Fairy tale is related to myth; 2) Fairy tales involve initiation rites or rights of passage that are especially relevant to women; 3) Fairy tale is fiction; 4) Fairy tale has an element of desire or longing; 5) Fairy tale is political as well as economic; and finally, 6) Fairy tale is either frivolous or didactic. Each of these elements could be examined in depth indeed, and it was apparent by the end of the lecture that depending on which biases or slants you carry with you-- either as a result of the nature of your major of field of study or just inherent biases-- your interpretation would place more weight on something rather than others. From there, the conversation turned to some key terms that would further inform our discussion: feminine versus feminism, women versus men, masculine and patriarchy. I found it particularly interesting to recognize that although the characters in the fairy tales are designated as males by sex, they may actually be representing a feminine character in the tale because of the fact that they lack what she called "phallic authority." This is necessary, I suppose, because of the fact that these stories were largely created under the influnece of patriarchy and that implies the rule of the father-- a single person. Gender then, became a category of analysis. Did her lecture meet my expectations? No. But I'm glad it didn't because it was far more interesting to hear the various ways in which fairy tales could potentially be interpreted-- whether it by feminine, psychoanalytic, or through the lens of a depth psychologist-- with the role of the feminine explored throughout. Current Mood: contemplative (Comment on this)