Fractured fairy tales and mixed-up pageants
Not long after the fox finished off that Gingerbread Boy, the old woman who made him decides to try again. She bakes a Gingerbread Girl this time, saying that “surely a sweet little girl wouldn’t run away!”
Alas, the nimble cookie does – revising the refrain for her gender: “I’ll run and I’ll run/ With a leap and a twirl./ You can’t catch me/ I’m the Gingerbread girl!” She outstrips everyone who tries to catch her, and then outwits the fox that ate her brother. Check out Lisa Campbell Ernst’s book to find out what happens next!
The world of children’s picture books is a lively one, with as much for adults to enjoy as kids. Our family regularly hits the limit of 50 books per card from the public library. About half are hardcover picture books. And every basketful has at least five fairy tale spinoffs like The Gingerbread Girl. Have you noticed this too? I love fairy tales so I think this is fantastic.
Jack and the Bean Snacks
Snoring Beauty
Eco-Wolf and the Three Pigs
Some are clever parodies, like The Principal’s New Clothes. Others depend on pictures to subvert the traditional storyline. Some are simple re-writes, updated to contemporary times (Splinters, starring a Canadian, hockey-playing Cinderella) or given a new setting and characters (such as Jan Brett’s beautiful 3 Little Dassies). Quite a few combine people from different stories with witty results. Others are textbook examples of postmodernity – characters that step out of their own narrative to address the reader directly (The True Story of the 3 Little Pigs!), to challenge the traditional ending or to otherwise upend the original story (The Jolly Postman is a classic). Lots are brilliant and entertaining.
Background check
I noticed the trend when our daughters were young and we started hanging out more in the children’s section. We read all kinds of books, from Goldilocks and the 3 Dinosaurs to Mouldylocks and the Three Clares.
Somewhere around Interstellar Cinderella I remember wondering, “Did that make sense to our kids? Have we read regular Cinderella?”
So I started searching for the originals. What good is a counterpoint on its own?
In that particular library, general picture books were shelved separately from “pure” fairy tales; in fact, about 40 feet apart. We found them and filled in the gaps of fairy tale history. (Not all the way back, however; original Grimm was not my goal.)
Most of the revised fairy tales can stand alone, of course. They are good stories in their own right. And some books, such as early Curious George and Brunhoff’s Babar, have racially prejudiced stereotypes that should be removed. There’s nothing inherently better about the first version of a story; our legwork was fueled by passion.
But being familiar with the originals does make contemporary books richer. Parody in particular depends on it.
Nativity Jeopardy
All of this was going through my mind last month during Christmas pageant season. Too often, though the actors are children, the script is directed at an adult audience. Ironic and self-referential storylines seem certain that these adults need a steady mix of anachronisms and pop culture references to break the tedium of Luke 2. All the same fictional trends crop up in church: multiple perspectives, sarcastic narrators, non-linear storylines, characters talking directly to the congregation.
Somewhere around King Herod reimagined as a jocular Herod Trebek, host of Nativity Jeopardy, I started wondering “Did that make sense to our kids? Do they know how wicked regular Herod was?”
With Scripture more than fairy tales, it seems to me, we ought to pay attention to the original. Think carefully about how this play will sound to five-year-olds or to someone who’s never been to church.
Puns and parodies might get some laughs, but Christ’s humble, miraculous birth is already timeless and universal. It doesn’t need to be made more relevant or relatable.
Have we stopped trusting that Scripture all by itself can make sense? Even to kids?
