The Classic Fairy Tales_Norton Critical Edition
Page 5
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1. Charles Dickens, “A Christmas Tree,” in Christmas Stories (London: Chapman & Hall, 1898), p. 5.
2. Catherine Orenstein looks at pornographic adaptations of “Little Red Riding Hood” in her Little Red Riding Hood Uncloaked: Sex, Morality, and the Evolution of a Fairy Tale (New York: Basic Books, 2002).
3. Barbara Ehrenreich, Foreword to Deadly Powers: Animal Predators and the Mythic Imagination by Paul A. Trout (New York: Prometheus, 2011).
4. Jack Zipes, The Trials and Tribulations of Little Red Riding Hood, 2nd ed. (New York: Routledge, 1993), p. 26.
5. James Thurber, “The Little Girl and the Wolf,” in Fables for Our Time and Famous Poems Illustrated by James Thurber (New York: Harper’s, 1940), p. 3.
6. Bruno Bettelheim, The Uses of Enchantment: The Meaning and Importance of Fairy Tales (New York: Knopf, 1976), p. 169.
7. Neil Gaiman, The Ocean at the End of the Lane (New York: William Morrow, 2014), p. 111.
8. Bettelheim, The Uses of Enchantment, p. 171.
9. Eric Berne, What Do You Say after You Say Hello? The Psychology of Human Destiny (New York: Grove, 1972), p. 43.
10. Zipes, Trials and Tribulations, p. 158.
11. Ibid., p. 200.
12. James Thurber, Fables for Our Time, p. 3.
13. Angela Carter, The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories (New York: Penguin, 1979), p. 118.
14. Erich Fromm, The Forgotten Language: An Introduction to the Understanding of Dreams, Fairy Tales and Myths (New York: Rinehart, 1951), p. 241.
15. Jamshid J. Tehrani, “The Phylogeny of Little Red Riding Hood,” PLoS ONE 8.11 (2013), e78871, journals.plos.org/plosone/article?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0078871.
16. T. Arbousset and F. Daumas, Narrative of an Exploratory Tour to the North-East of the Colony of the Cape of Good Hope (Cape Town: Struik, 1968), p. ix.
17. Angela Carter, ed., The Virago Book of Fairy Tales (London: Virago, 1990), p. 240.
18. Luciano Pavarotti, “Introduction,” in Beni Montresor, Little Red Riding Hood (New York: Doubleday, 1991).
The Story of Grandmother†
There was once a woman who had made some bread. She said to her daughter: “Take this loaf of hot bread and this bottle of milk over to granny’s.”
The little girl left. At the crossroads she met a wolf, who asked: “Where are you going?”
“I’m taking a loaf of hot bread and a bottle of milk to granny’s.”
“Which path are you going to take,” asked the wolf, “the path of needles or the path of pins?”1
“The path of needles,” said the little girl.
“Well, then, I’ll take the path of pins.”
The little girl had fun picking up needles. Meanwhile, the wolf arrived at granny’s, killed her, put some of her flesh in the pantry and a bottle of her blood on the shelf. The little girl got there and knocked at the door.
“Push the door,” said the wolf, “it’s latched with a wet straw.”
“Hello, granny. I’m bringing you a loaf of hot bread and a bottle of milk.”
“Put it in the pantry, my child. Take some of the meat in there along with the bottle of wine on the shelf.”2
There was a little cat in the room who watched her eat and said: “Phooey! You’re a slut if you eat the flesh and drink the blood of granny.”
“Take your clothes off, my child,” said the wolf, “and come into bed with me.”
“Where should I put my apron?”
“Throw it into the fire, my child. You won’t be needing it any longer.”
When she asked the wolf where to put all her other things, her bodice, her dress, her skirt, and her stockings, each time he said: “Throw them into the fire, my child. You won’t be needing them any longer.”3
“Oh, granny, how hairy you are!”
“The better to keep me warm, my child!”
“Oh, granny, what long nails you have!”
“The better to scratch myself with, my child!”
“Oh, granny, what big shoulders you have!”
“The better to carry firewood with, my child!”
“Oh, granny, what big ears you have!”
“The better to hear you with, my child!”
“Oh, granny, what big nostrils you have!”
“The better to sniff my tobacco with, my child!”
“Oh, granny, what a big mouth you have!”
“The better to eat you with, my child!”
“Oh, granny, I need to go badly. Let me go outside!”
“Do it in the bed, my child.”
“No, granny, I want to go outside.”
“All right, but don’t stay out long.”
The wolf tied a rope made of wool to her leg and let her go outside.
When the little girl got outside, she attached the end of the rope to a plum tree in the yard. The wolf became impatient and said: “Are you making a load out there? Are you making a load?”
When he realized that there was no answer, he jumped out of bed and discovered that the little girl had escaped. He followed her, but he reached her house only after she had gotten inside.
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† As told by Louis and François Briffault in Nièvre, 1885. Originally published by Paul Delarue, in “Les Contes merveilleux de Perrault et la tradition populaire,” Bulletin folklorique de l’Ile-de-France (1951): 221–22. Translated for the first edition of this Norton Critical Edition by Maria Tatar. Copyright © 1999 by Maria Tatar.
1. Yvonne Verdier (“Grand-mères, si vous saviez … le Petit Chaperon Rouge dans la tradition orale,” Cahiers de Littérature Orale 4 [1978]: 17–55) reads the path of pins and the path of needles as part of a social discourse pertaining to apprenticeships for girls in sewing. In another region of France, the paths are described as the path of little stones and the path of little thorns. An Italian version refers to a path of stones and a path of roots.
2. Local variations turn the flesh into tortellini in Italy and into sausage in France, while the blood is often said to be wine.
3. Many oral renditions of the tale presumably drew out the story by dwelling at length on what happens to each article of clothing.
CHARLES PERRAULT
Little Red Riding Hood†
Once upon a time there was a village girl, the prettiest you can imagine. Her mother adored her. Her grandmother adored her even more and made a little red hood for her. The hood suited the child so much that everywhere she went she was known by the name Little Red Riding Hood.
One day, her mother baked some cakes and said to her: “I want you to go and see how your grandmother is faring, for I’ve heard that she’s ill. Take her some cakes and this little pot of butter.”
Little Red Riding Hood left right away for her grandmother’s house, which was in another village. As she was walking through the woods she met old Neighbor Wolf, who wanted to eat her right there on the spot. But he didn’t dare because some woodcutters were in the forest. He asked where she was going. The poor child, who did not know that it was dangerous to stop and listen to wolves, said: “I’m going to see my grandmother and am taking her some cakes and a little pot of butter sent by my mother.”
“Does she live very far away?” asked the wolf.
“Oh, yes,” said Little Red Riding Hood. “She lives beyond the mill that you can see over there. Hers is the first house you come to in the village.”
“Well, well,” said the wolf. “I think I shall go and see her too. I’ll take the path over here, and you take the path over there, and we’ll see who gets there first.”
The wolf ran as fast as he could on the shorter path, and the little girl continued on her way along the longer path. She had a good time gathering nuts, chasing butterflies, and picking bunches of flowers that she found.
The wolf did not take long to get to Grandmother’s house. He knocked: Rat-a-
tat-tat.
“Who’s there?”
“It’s your granddaughter, Little Red Riding Hood,” said the wolf, disguising his voice. “And I’m bringing you some cake and a little pot of butter sent by my mother.”
The dear grandmother, who was in bed because she was not feeling well, called out: “Pull the bolt and the latch will open.”
The wolf pulled the bolt, and the door opened wide. He threw himself on the good woman and devoured her in no time, for he had eaten nothing in the last three days. Then he closed the door and lay down on Grandmother’s bed, waiting for Little Red Riding Hood, who, before long, came knocking at the door: Rat-a-tat-tat.
“Who’s there?”
Little Red Riding Hood was afraid at first when she heard the gruff voice of the wolf, but thinking that her grandmother must have caught cold, she said: “It’s your granddaughter, Little Red Riding Hood, and I’m bringing you some cake and a little pot of butter sent by my mother.”
The wolf tried to soften his voice as he called out to her: “Pull the bolt and the latch will open.”
Little Red Riding Hood pulled the bolt, and the door opened wide. When the wolf saw her come in, he hid under the covers of the bed and said: “Put the cakes and the little pot of butter on the bin and climb into bed with me.”
Little Red Riding Hood took off her clothes and climbed into the bed. She was astonished to see what her grandmother looked like in her nightgown.
“Grandmother,” she said, “what big arms you have!”
“The better to hug you with, my child.”
“Grandmother, what big legs you have!”
“The better to run with, my child.”
“Grandmother, what big ears you have!”
“The better to hear with, my child.”
“Grandmother, what big eyes you have!”
“The better to see with, my child.”
“Grandmother, what big teeth you have!”
“The better to eat you with!”
Upon saying these words, the wicked wolf threw himself on Little Red Riding Hood and gobbled her up.
Moral
From this story one learns that children,
Especially young girls,
Pretty, well-bred, and genteel,
Are wrong to listen to just anyone,
And it’s not at all strange,
If a wolf ends up eating them.
I say a wolf, but not all wolves
Are exactly the same.
Some are perfectly charming,
Not loud, brutal, or angry,
But tame, pleasant, and gentle,
Following young ladies
Right into their homes, into their chambers,
But watch out if you haven’t learned that tame wolves
Are the most dangerous of all.
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† Charles Perrault, “Le Petit Chaperon Rouge,” in Histoires ou Contes du temps passé. Avec des Moralités (Paris: Barbin, 1697). Translated for the first edition of this Norton Critical Edition by Maria Tatar. Copyright © 1999 by Maria Tatar.
BROTHERS GRIMM
Little Red Cap†
Once upon a time there was a dear little girl. If you set eyes on her you could not but love her. The person who loved her most of all was her grandmother, and she could never give the child enough. Once she made her a little cap of red velvet. Since it was so becoming and since she wanted to wear it all the time, everyone called her Little Red Cap.
One day her mother said to her: “Look, Little Red Cap. Here’s a piece of cake and a bottle of wine. Take them to your grandmother. She is ill and feels weak, and they will give her strength. You’d better start now before it gets too hot, and when you’re out in the woods, walk properly and don’t stray from the path. Otherwise you’ll fall and break the glass, and then there’ll be nothing for Grandmother. And when you enter her room, don’t forget to say good morning, and don’t go peeping in all the corners of the room.”
“I’ll do just as you say,” Little Red Cap promised her mother.
Grandmother lived deep in the woods, half an hour’s walk from the village. No sooner had Little Red Cap set foot in the forest than she met the wolf. Little Red Cap had no idea what a wicked beast he was, and so she wasn’t in the least afraid of him.
“Good morning, Little Red Cap,” he said.
“Thank you kindly, wolf.”
“Where are you headed so early in the morning, Little Red Cap?”
“To my grandmother’s.”
“What’s that under your apron?”
“Cake and wine. Yesterday we baked and Grandmother, who is sick and feels weak, needs something to make her feel better.”
“Where does your grandmother live, Little Red Cap?”
“It’s another quarter of an hour’s walk into the woods. Her house is right under three large oaks. You must know the place from the hazel hedges near it,” said Little Red Cap.
The wolf thought to himself: “That tender young thing will make a dainty morsel. She’ll be even tastier than the old woman. If you’re really crafty, you’ll get them both.”
He walked for a while beside Little Red Cap. Then he said: “Little Red Cap, have you seen the beautiful flowers all about? Why don’t you look around for a while? I don’t think you’ve even noticed how sweetly the birds are singing. You are walking along as if you were on the way to school, and yet it’s so heavenly out here in the woods.”
Little Red Cap opened her eyes wide and saw how the sunbeams were dancing this way and that through the trees and how there were beautiful flowers all about. She thought to herself: “If you bring a fresh bouquet to Grandmother, she will be overjoyed. It’s still so early in the morning that I’m sure to get there in plenty of time.”
She left the path and ran off into the woods looking for flowers. As soon as she picked one she saw an even more beautiful one somewhere else and went after it, and so she went deeper and deeper into the woods.
The wolf went straight to Grandmother’s house and knocked at the door.
“Who’s there?”
“Little Red Cap, I’ve brought some cake and wine. Open the door.”
“Just raise the latch,” Grandmother called out. “I’m too weak to get out of bed.”
The wolf raised the latch, and the door swung wide open. Without saying a word, he went straight to Grandmother’s bed and gobbled her up. Then he put on her clothes and her nightcap, lay down in her bed, and drew the curtains.
Meanwhile, Little Red Cap had been running around looking for flowers. When she finally had so many that she couldn’t carry them all, she suddenly remembered Grandmother and set off again on the path to her house. She was surprised to find the door open, and when she stepped into the house, she had such a strange feeling that she thought to herself: “Oh, my goodness, I’m usually so glad to be at Grandmother’s, but today I feel so nervous.”
She called out a greeting but there was no answer. Then she went to the bed and drew back the curtains. Grandmother was lying there with her nightcap pulled down over her face. She looked very strange.
“Oh, Grandmother, what big ears you have!”
“The better to hear you with.”
“Oh, Grandmother, what big eyes you have!”
“The better to see you with.”
“Oh, Grandmother, what big hands you have!”
“The better to grab you with!”
“Oh, Grandmother, what a big, scary mouth you have!”
“The better to eat you with!”
No sooner had the wolf spoken those words than he leaped out of bed and gobbled up poor Little Red Cap.
Once the wolf had satisfied his desires, he lay down again in bed, fell asleep, and began to snore very loudly. A huntsman happened to be passing by the house just then and thought to himself: “How the old woman is snoring! You’d better check to see what’s wrong.” He walked into the house and when he got to the bed he saw that the wolf was lying in it.
<
br /> “I’ve found you at last, you old sinner,” he said. “I’ve been after you for a while now.”
He pulled out his musket and was about to take aim when he realized that the wolf might have eaten Grandmother and that she could still be saved. Instead of firing, he took out a pair of scissors and began cutting open the belly of the sleeping wolf. After making a few snips, he saw the faint outlines of a red hood. After making a few more cuts, the girl jumped out, crying: “Oh, how terrified I was! It was so dark in the wolf’s belly!” And then the old grandmother found her way out alive, though she could hardly breathe. Little Red Cap quickly fetched some large stones and filled the wolf’s belly with them. When he awoke, he was about to bound off, but the stones were so heavy that his legs collapsed and he fell down dead.
All three were overjoyed. The huntsman skinned the wolf and went home with the pelt. Grandmother ate the cake and drank the wine Little Red Cap had brought her and recovered her health. Little Red Cap thought to herself: “Never again will you stray from the path and go into the woods, when your mother has forbidden it.”
There is also a story about another wolf who met Little Red Cap on the way to Grandmother’s, as she was taking her some cakes. The wolf tried to divert her from the path, but Little Red Cap was on her guard and kept right on going. She told her grandmother that she had met the wolf and that he had greeted her. But he had looked at her in such an evil way that “If we hadn’t been out in the open, he would have gobbled me right up.”