Then he came to the tower. He climbed the dusty spiral staircase, he found the little door, he turned the rusty handle. The door opened at once. There on the bed lay the most beautiful princess the young man had ever seen, or could ever imagine.
He bent over her and kissed her lips, and Briar Rose opened her eyes and gave a little sigh of surprise and smiled at the young man, who fell in love with her at once.
They went downstairs together, watching everyone wake up all around them. The king and the queen woke up, and stared all around wide-eyed, because of the great hedge that had grown all over the castle. The horses woke up and shook themselves and neighed; the pigeons on the roof woke up, the dog in the courtyard carried on scratching, the cook boxed the kitchen boy’s ears so hard that he yelled, the drop of fat fell into the fire with a sizzle.
And in due course the prince was married to Briar Rose. The wedding was celebrated with great splendour, and they lived happily together to the end of their lives.
***
Tale type: ATU 410, ‘Sleeping Beauty’
Source: a story told to the Grimm brothers by Marie Hassenpflug
Similar stories: Giambattista Basile: ‘Sun, Moon and Talia’ (The Great Fairy Tale Tradition, ed. Jack Zipes); Italo Calvino: ‘The Neapolitan Soldier’ (Italian Folktales); Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm: ‘The Glass Coffin’ (Children’s and Household Tales); Charles Perrault: ‘The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood’ (Perrault’s Complete Fairy Tales)
Bruno Bettelheim, as might be expected, takes a thoroughly Freudian view of this tale. According to him, the sleep of a hundred years that follows the unexpected loss of blood ‘is nothing but a time of quiet growth and preparation, from which the person will awake mature, ready for sexual union’ (The Uses of Enchantment, p. 232).
Furthermore, it’s no use trying to forestall what is bound to happen to a growing child. The king tries to destroy all the spindles in the kingdom ‘to prevent the princess’s fateful bleeding once she reaches puberty, at fifteen, as the evil fairy predicted. Whatever precautions a father takes, when the daughter is ripe for it, puberty will set in.’
Bettelheim’s interpretation is persuasive. But whether it’s the underlying symbolism that is responsible for the enduring popularity of this story or the wealth of delightful detail (the poor little kitchen boy, doomed to wait a hundred years for the clout the cook is lining up), it remains one of the most well loved of all the Grimms’ tales.
And the princess needs her hundred years and her hedge of thorns. At fifteen, she’s not grown up yet; or as Louis Jordan used to sing: ‘That chick’s too young to fry.’
TWENTY-SIX
SNOW WHITE
One winter’s day, when the snowflakes were falling like feathers, a queen sat sewing at her window, which had a frame of the blackest ebony. She opened the window to look up at the sky, and as she did so she pricked her finger, and three drops of blood fell into the snow on the windowsill. The red and the white looked so beautiful together that she said to herself, ‘I wish I had a child as white as snow, as red as blood, and as black as the wood in the window frame.’
And soon afterwards she had a little daughter, and she was as white as snow and as red as blood and as black as ebony, so they called her Little Snow White. As soon as the baby was born, the queen died.
A year later, the king married another wife. She was a beautiful woman, but she was proud and arrogant, and she couldn’t bear to think that anyone was more beautiful than she was. She had a magic mirror, and every morning she used to stand in front of it and gaze at her reflection and say:
‘Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all?’
And the mirror would reply:
‘Your majesty, you are the fairest of all.’
She was satisfied then, because she knew that the mirror could only tell the truth.
But meanwhile, Snow White was growing up. When she was seven years old she was as lovely as a spring day, and even more beautiful, in fact, than the queen.
So one day when the queen asked her mirror:
‘Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all?’
the mirror answered:
‘Your majesty, you are still lovely, it’s true,
But Snow White is a thousand times fairer than you.’
Immediately the queen took fright. Envy churned in her bowels, and her flawless complexion took on a sickly yellow-green. From that moment on, she only had to look at Snow White to feel her heart tightening with malice. Her envy and pride grew strong like a weed in her soul, and she felt no peace by day or by night.
Finally she called one of the king’s huntsmen and said to him, ‘Take that child deep into the woods. I never want to set eyes on her again. Make sure she’s dead, and bring me her lungs and liver as proof.’
The huntsman did as she ordered. When he had taken Snow White far into the heart of the forest, he took out his knife, and was about to thrust it into her innocent heart when she began to cry, ‘Oh please, dear huntsman, spare my life! I’ll run away into the wild woods and never come home again, I promise!’
She was so beautiful that the huntsman took pity on her and said, ‘You poor child, go on then – run away.’
‘The wild beasts will eat her soon in any case,’ he thought, but knowing that he wouldn’t have to kill her was like feeling a heavy weight lift from his heart.
Just then a young boar came running through the bushes. The huntsman killed it and cut out its lungs and liver, and took them back to the queen as proof of Snow White’s death. The cook was ordered to season them well, dredge them in flour and fry them, and the wicked queen ate them all up. And that, she thought, was the end of Snow White.
But meanwhile, Snow White was alone in the great forest with no idea what to do or where to go. She looked all around, but nothing she could see among the leaves and the bushes was any help. She was frightened, and she began to run, ignoring the sharp stones and the brambles and the small animals that leaped at her. She ran and she ran, and just as the light was fading and the evening was near, she saw a little cottage. She knocked, but there was no one at home, so she went inside hoping to rest.
Everything in the house was small, but very neat and clean. There was a pot of stew beside the fire, and a little table covered with a snowy-white tablecloth, on which stood seven little bowls, with a slice of bread beside each one, and seven little knives and forks and spoons and seven little mugs. Upstairs there were seven little beds, all standing in a row, all neatly made with snowy-white linen, and a little table beside each bed with a little glass and a little toothbrush.
Snow White was very hungry and thirsty, so she ate some stew from the pot and took a bite of each slice of bread and a sip of wine from each mug. And then she realized how tired she was, so she lay down on one of the beds, but it was too big; and she tried another, but it was too short; but the seventh one was just right. So she said her prayers, and lay down and closed her eyes and was asleep in a moment.
Presently, when it was dark, the owners of the cottage came home. They were seven dwarfs, and they earned their living by mining for precious ore under the mountains. They came in and lit their lanterns, and then they saw that things were not as they had left them.
‘Someone’s been sitting in my chair!’
‘Someone’s been eating from my bowl!’
‘There’s a bite out of my bread – look!’
‘The ladle’s been used – someone’s eaten some stew!’
‘And they’ve used my knife—’
‘And they’ve used my fork—’
‘And they’ve drunk from my mug!’
They looked at each other with wide eyes. Then they all looked up at the ceiling, and they all tiptoed up the stairs, and they
all looked at their beds, and whispered:
‘Someone’s tried my bed!’
‘And mine—’
‘And mine—’
‘And mine—’
‘And mine—’
‘And mine—’
‘Oh, look!’
The seventh dwarf had found Snow White asleep. They all tiptoed up and looked at her in wonder. The lantern light shone over her face on the snowy-white pillow.
‘Good heavens! What a beautiful child!’
‘Who can she be?’
‘We can’t wake her up! She’s fast asleep . . .’
‘What a lovely face!’
‘I wonder where she came from?’
‘It’s a mystery, brothers! A deep mystery!’
‘Come back downstairs. We must discuss what to do . . .’
They tiptoed back downstairs and sat around the table.
‘She looks exhausted, poor little thing.’
‘Better not wake her up.’
‘The morning’ll be soon enough for that.’
‘Maybe she’s escaping from a witch . . .’
‘Fool! There’s no such things as witches.’
‘I think she’s a angel.’
‘And so she might be, but she’s in my bed, and where am I going to sleep?’
The other six agreed to let the seventh one share their beds, an hour each throughout the night. And so they went to sleep.
When Snow White woke up in the morning and found the seven dwarfs all looking at her (they’d woken up and got dressed already), she was alarmed.
‘Don’t be frightened, miss!’
‘We’re friendly enough!’
‘Not pretty, maybe—’
‘But we won’t do you no harm.’
‘That’s a promise!’
‘You’re safe here.’
‘What’s your name, my dear?’
‘I’m called Snow White,’ she said.
They asked where she came from, how she’d found her way to their cottage, and so on, and she told them how her stepmother had tried to kill her, and how the huntsman had spared her life, and how she’d run in a panic through the bushes and the brambles till she found their cottage.
The dwarfs withdrew to the corner of the room and whispered together, and then came back and said:
‘If you’ll keep house for us—’
‘Sweep and clean, you know, all that—’
‘And cook! Don’t forget cooking!’
‘Yes, and cook, and make the beds—’
‘And wash the linen—’
‘And sew and knit and darn our socks—’
‘Then you can stay with us, my dear, and you shall have everything you want.’
‘Oh, I’ll do that with all my heart!’ said Snow White.
So they agreed on that, and Snow White began to keep house for them. Every morning they tramped off to the mountain to dig for gold and copper and silver, and when they came back in the evening their dinner was ready for them, and the cottage was neat and clean and everything was in order.
During the day, of course, Snow White was all alone, and the dwarfs warned her: ‘Be careful. That stepmother of yours will be looking for you once she finds out you’re alive. Don’t let anyone in!’
Once the queen had eaten the liver and lungs that she thought were Snow White’s, she wasn’t afraid to look in her magic mirror again and say:
‘Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all?’
But she got a terrible shock when the mirror answered:
‘Your majesty, you are still lovely, it’s true,
But far, far away in the forest so deep
Where she lives with the dwarfs since they found her asleep,
Snow White is a thousand times fairer than you.’
The queen recoiled with horror, for she knew the mirror couldn’t lie, and she realized that the huntsman must have deceived her. Snow White was still alive! All her thoughts circled around one question: how could she kill Snow White? If she, the queen, wasn’t the most beautiful woman in the whole country, she knew her envy would torment her day and night.
At last she thought of a plan. She made up her face carefully and disguised herself as an old pedlar, so skilfully that she knew no one would recognize her. She made her way to the house of the seven dwarfs, and when they were at work down under the mountain, she knocked on the door.
Snow White was making the beds. She heard the knock and opened an upstairs window.
‘Good day,’ she called down. ‘What are you selling?’
‘Fine laces and pretty ribbons,’ the queen called up. ‘Would you like to see what I have, my dear? Here’s a lovely one, look!’
She pulled out a lace made of braided silk. Snow White thought it was very pretty indeed, and surely this old woman had an honest face. It must be safe to let her in.
She ran down and unbolted the door and looked at the lace.
‘Would you like to try it?’ said the pedlar-woman. ‘Dear me, child, you need looking after. Come here, sweetie, let me do up your bodice with this pretty lace.’
Snow White stood there not suspecting a thing while the old woman threaded the lace through and through her bodice, and then pulled and pulled and pulled so tight that Snow White couldn’t breathe. The poor girl’s eyes fluttered and her lips moved and then she fell down senseless.
‘You’re not so beautiful now you’re dead,’ muttered the old woman, and hurried away.
Soon afterwards the dwarfs came home, because the day was ending. When they saw Snow White lying there not breathing, they were terrified. They picked her up and then realized what was causing the trouble, and quickly they cut through the lace so she could breathe. Little by little she came back to life and told them what had happened.
‘Well, you know who that pedlar-woman was, don’t you?’
‘It was the wicked queen!’
‘Couldn’t have been anyone else.’
‘Don’t let her in again, whatever you do!’
‘Take care, Snow White! Oh, do take care.’
‘Remember now – be on your guard!’
‘Don’t let anyone in.’
Meanwhile the queen was hurrying home. As soon as she was safe in her boudoir, she asked the mirror:
‘Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all?’
And the mirror answered:
‘Your majesty, you are still lovely, it’s true,
But they cut through the lace with a sharp little knife
And they brought their Snow White back to life –
And she’s still a thousand times lovelier than you.’
When the queen heard that, her heart gave a sickening lurch and squeezed her blood so hard she thought her eyes would burst.
‘Still alive! Still alive! We’ll see about that!’ she said. ‘She won’t be alive for long, I promise.’
The queen understood the art of witchcraft, and she crushed some rare herbs while saying a spell, and then dipped a pretty comb in the herb-juice. It was deadly poison. With the aid of a little more magic, she changed her appearance entirely so she didn’t look at all like the previous old woman, and set off for the dwarfs’ cottage.
She knocked on the door and called out, ‘Pretty knick-knacks for sale! Combs and pins and mirrors! Pretty trinkets for pretty girls!’
Snow White looked out of the upstairs window and answered, ‘I can’t let you in. I’m not allowed. You’d better go away.’
‘That’s all right, sweetheart,’ said the old woman, ‘I won’t step over the threshold. I’m sure no one would mind if you took a look, though.
What about this lovely comb here, look!’
It was very pretty, and Snow White thought it would do no harm just to look. She ran down and opened the door.
‘Oh, such lovely hair!’ said the old woman. ‘So black and so rich and shiny! But oh, a terrible tangle – when did you last brush it properly, sweetheart? Don’t they look after you here?’
She was running her fingers through Snow White’s hair as she spoke.
‘Let me just tease out a tangle or two with this pretty comb – you like it, don’t you? I can see – come here, darling . . .’
Snow White obediently bent her head, and the old woman dug the comb into her scalp so viciously the poor girl fell straight down without even a cry.
‘That’s done for you, missy! Let’s see how lovely you are when you start to rot!’ said the queen, and she hurried away before the dwarfs came home.
Luckily it was almost evening, and not long after the wicked queen left Snow White lying there, the dwarfs came home and found her.
‘Snow White! What’s happened?’
‘Is she breathing?’
‘That wicked queen again—’
‘What’s that stuck in her hair?’
‘Pull it out, quick!’
‘Mind – it’ll be poisoned!’
‘Careful . . . careful . . .’
They wrapped a handkerchief around the comb and pulled it delicately out, and almost at once Snow White sighed and opened her eyes.
‘Oh, dwarfs, I’m so stupid! She didn’t look at all like she did before, and I thought it would be all right . . .’
They told her it would only be all right if she kept her wits about her and did as they told her. She mustn’t open the door for anyone.
The queen hurried back and threw off her disguise before standing in front of the magic mirror. She said:
‘Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all?’
And the mirror answered:
‘Your majesty, you are still lovely, it’s true,
But as soon as you’d gone, the good dwarfs arrived home
Fairy Tales from the Brothers Grimm: A New English Version Page 21