Revisiting Rumpelstiltskin

It's the story of a poor man's daughter who, after her father tells the king she can spin straw into gold, falls into tears because she will be killed when she fails to complete the impossible task; a strange little man appears and helps her but ultimately asks for her first child in payment, a cost which she is only able to avoid after discovering that his name is Rumpelstiltskin.

So what is it about this story that made it one of my favorite fairy tales, and what might it mean?

Going off of the Grimm versions, while some fairy tales are several pages, this one is quite short. I think that length gets your imagination going, filling in the blanks that the story doesn't go into. Why was such a poor man even in conversation with the king? Why did he tell him such a ridiculous fib when all it could accomplish was to get his daughter into trouble? Was she happy about marrying the king? Who is Rumpelstiltskin and where did he come from? Was it good that she accepted help from him? What does it mean that she beat him in the end by saying his name?

Back in middle school, I imagined how fairy tales could make great reads as novels--and I obviously wasn't the only one to have that thought. For Rumpelstiltskin, I imagined that the poor man's daughter would already love the king, and that's why she would be glad about marrying him. I could never reconcile that part of the story if I thought that she didn't love him. But the truth of the matter is, the king is just the ultimate good marriage. From a traditional or patriarchal point of view, she gains everything there is for a woman to gain by marrying him.

But Rumpelstiltskin threatens the other traditional feminine role, motherhood. By asking for her child, he is threatening the traditional idea of a family. But why does he want the child? I always wondered that. From her point of view, it is the ultimate threat, but what does he have to gain from taking a baby?

This brings us back to the question of who Rumpelstiltskin is. At the end of the story, he stomps his foot in anger, it becomes cloven in two, and he disappears into oblivion. Maybe he didn't die; maybe he just went somewhere else. Because cloven feet, well, that's satanic imagery right there. Taking Rumpelstiltskin as a demon would explain why he wants to steal away someone's child: he wants to ruin souls, spread evil, and that sort of thing. If the woman achieves a certain victory over him by discovering his name, it is because she is rebuking him with the power of words. If Jesus's name has power, then it makes sense for a story to also give some sort of power to demon's names. When the woman reveals Rumpelstiltskin's name, she is pointing out who he is and sending him back to where he came from.

But if you go with the idea of Rumpelstiltskin being a demon, it becomes unsettling that the heroine of the story (if that's what you think she is) accepts his help and owes her entire position as queen to him. Is the story, then, endorsing a little flirtation with the dark side as long as you don't let it go too far? And I can't ignore the fact that it is three times that Rumpelstiltskin helps her; three is an important number in religion. Rumpelstiltskin saved this woman's life; what if all he wants is to save her child's life, too? Is he a demon, or something else?

Either way, she makes deals with him, and deals are dangerous if you don't understand all the details. But if he hadn't helped her and if her father hadn't put her in a position to need help from Rumpelstiltskin, she and her father would both be lost. Which makes me wonder, did her father know about Rumpelstiltskin? What if Rumpelstiltskin is her father, or her grandfather, or at least her father's friend? It may be a fairy tale, but this male version of the Blue Fairy turning up just as needed is quite the coincidence.

Is Rumpelstiltskin good, bad, or crazy? Did he use the poor man's daughter, or did she use him?

Beauty and the Beast in Front of Me

Before I graduate, there are some things I've been making sure I do or see on campus that I just never got around to before.  One thing I had never done was to go inside of the ASU Gammage auditorium, even though The Phantom of the Opera was there a couple years ago and I really should have found a way to make it to that.

So when I learned that Beauty and the Beast was doing a couple of performances this month, I said, hello, more perfect timing, and made sure not to miss it. I've probably said this before, but despite enjoying seeing live things like this, I hardly see any at all. In fact, I think this was my first "real musical," which means I'm not counting any for-children productions I may have seen when I was younger.

One of the things I really enjoyed was seeing how quickly and seamlessly they turned the sets around. There is fluidity to the choreography not just of the actors but of everything on the stage. The castle set/lighting was properly creepy and all the lights and glimmer during "Be Our Guest" were as expansive and shiny as it gets. I was only disappointed by the library: although the arch of tumbling, oversized books they used fit into the set's permanent arches, I would have preferred to see an arch of shelves. The library is so huge and beautiful in the movie that I wanted to see something more similar to that instead of an abstract "books" image.

While I never felt that William A. Martin as Maurice showed enough emotion in his dialogue, Joe Hager gave a great performance as Gaston, really playing with the character. Given that this musical is almost double the length of the movie, they take more time for some of the character developments. We see more, particularly, of the servants and also more tidbits of scenes in general. While not all of the added songs interested me much, some did add a deeper angle or more development. One of these was at the end of Act I; I think it was "If I Can't Love Her."

Although I think I would utterly suffocate in New York having Central Park as the only echo of "nature" including the sky, it would also be nice to always have so many productions to go see. Then again, I'm always talking about how Phoenix does have plenty of things play during the year--I just usually don't get to see them. Maybe I'll come back in February for Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Wizard of Oz?

Beauty & the Beast Everywhere

Because of Once Upon a Time, I've been finding Beauty and the Beast everywhere. Considering that Disney owns ABC, I think this first instance must not have been a coincidence. The Lego store in Downtown Disney always puts out big Lego displays--when I was there last month, they had Maleficent (as a dragon) above the store. While that was an impressive one, I was more interested in this scene:

So interested, I suppose, that at the Natural History Museum later, I found myself recreating the tableau:

How did such randomness turn out so well?

Hollywood & Wandering Through Studios

Having lived, mostly, in Southern California until I was seven or eight, things like the Hollywood sign were normal and everyday for me. I never had that awe for Hollywood, Beverly Hills, or L.A. because it all just seemed part of the close-by world. But that isn't to say that, even now, I have seen everything there is to see in this the land where movies are made.

Over Spring Break, there was one particular day devoted to the studio experience. In the morning, we took the two hour tour of Paramount Studios (there is also a longer, pricier tour). Our tour had eight people, so you really have the chance to ask any questions you have or get to see particular buildings that interest you. We went inside the theatre where they screen movies, one or two TV sets, and inside one of the "false" buildings on the backlot. While Universal Studios lets you take a tram through the street sets, here we got to walk around and really take a look at how they can arrange the streets differently depending on what they're shooting there. The building we went into was bare except for wires, wires everywhere. It feels so different to be told that something is a set, versus to walk around in it and realize that, as real as it looks, it is all fake. It's like a giant set of toys. (Which I say with excitement and admiration, not disdain.)

After lunch in West Hollywood, we parked at The Grove and lined up outside of CBS for a taping of The Late Late Show (with Craig Ferguson). While this probably wouldn't have been on my agenda, this was the first time I had been in a studio audience. I happened to be sitting on one of the edges, so I could see behind one of the set's side walls--you know, "behind the scenes." Simply for the experience of it, I was glad I tagged along to the show.

Oh, yes, and the day before, I decided to take a picture of the Hollywood sign for the first time--I had seen it so much before that I never even considered photographing it. In doing so, I learned something: that's a hard sign to photograph what with all the glare and my nonexistent camera skills.

What About the Daughters?

While I try and write up a short reaction to most of the books I read on my own, I don't usually post about books I read in class. For one thing, there would be too many: they would overtake the blog. And I also already have to write papers and other assignments on them, so choosing to write extra on school books isn't always what I'm keen to do. But there are exceptions.

Yesterday, when I shut the last page of María Amparo Escandón's novel, González & Daughter Trucking Co., I had to pause for a couple of minutes to take it in.

I don't always feel that way, where a book has touched my thoughts in a way that goes past enjoying reading it or finding a depth of material for analysis.

Given that I was reading this book for a class, there are certainly many layers you can study it under. It deals with issues of cultural identity, taking place in both Mexico and the U.S. It studies the workings of community and also more personal relationships, most prominently father-daughter relationships (as you can tell from the title--why, asks Escandón, are companies only named "& Son?"). It questions what fear is and where knowledge comes from and how healing comes. It's written in such a format of two, three, or four voices/speakers/lenses that it interacts with the reality of stories and truth.

It's also a pleasure to read simply as a story. At our last class, we only needed to have read the first half of the book, but a few people had already finished it. I found that I needed to read the first half slower in order to take everything in, but the second half went by in a breeze. It's a book that tends to beg you to keep reading and reacting to what you read.

And that's the special part: the reacting. There are beautiful and poetic moments interspersed in the pages, moments that I really felt for. It's a book about a women's prison, a father and daughter on the road for their trucking company, and one woman's journey through discovery, pain, and ultimate healing. Amongst all of the communities and the stories, there are very personal emotions.

The Lovely, Lonely Host

Click here to read my initial thoughts on The Host.

My blog background seems to have disappeared, leaving behind the forest image that was beneath it--the weird thing is that the link to the website where I got the background is still up there in the corner. Will it come back on its own, then? I can't seem to figure out what went wrong, or how to put up a new background. I feel at such a loss.

Anyway, guess what movie I went to see again yesterday? The Host, that's right. (And I'm probably going to see it again in the next week or two whenever another friend or two that I'm taking to see it can make it.) Because of my weird movie-watching habits, I'm used to sometimes seeing a movie in a fairly empty theatre. But this time, I was watching with less than ten other people and in (I think) this particular theatre's second largest space. So that did make me feel rather isolated.

But when you watch a movie without a surrounding audience, you can tell what it is you like or don't or what makes you laugh and such like. The responses are all yours, not responses based on the general audience reaction.

I have a couple of follow-up comments on this movie. The costumes and overall style of the souls really did start to bother me this time. It made it feel less like the souls try to imitate humans. The attitude of the Seekers comes up most often, and so it seemed to most define the souls--but the Seekers are only a select group of souls. So the souls, in the movie, feel like a threatening institution rather than the friendly, honest, and truly-believing-their-way-is-right group that they are. The movie makes it seem like it's specifically Wanda who is this way.

I also stared at the landscape some more. Okay, New Mexico was never going to look exactly like Arizona to an Arizonan. But still. And I know that I don't spend much time south of Phoenix (where Picacho Peak is), but when I look at pictures of the area, there's one thing in particular that I see: saguaros! And other vegetation, including gorgeous wildflowers if the season's right. But the movie portrayed this area as rather lifeless--and sandy, as I mentioned before. Considering that saguaros don't grow everywhere, I missed them. But, I say with a sigh, this isn't actually a big deal.

Why, though, does Jamie not have an accent if his sister does? Melanie has an accent to distinguish her from Wanderer, but the accent seemed to bypass Jamie.

The first part of the movie, you can say, starts slow. But I think what interests me less about it isn't the pace: it's that the "soul style" I talked about above is a primary part of these opening scenes. And while the book, because it is a book, is able to introduce Melanie's and Wanderer's characters early on as separate identities and then to form the bond between them in the desert, these developments of character happen differently in the movie.

But both times, as this movie has come forward towards its close, I have found myself in the most buoyant mood. The development happens softly, almost imperceptibly, naturally. That shot of Wanderer's face at the end, when she is saying goodbye to Melanie, that is what this story is all about. So to see Wanderer finding peace and then to see her reawaken and for her community to also find peace is powerful. It's the lingering power of success, emotion, and resolution. Wanderer has literally found herself and where she belongs.

That's why I'm loving this little, low budget movie that critics mostly criticize. That's why I'll even sit in an empty theatre to see if if I have to: because it's what I like, and like Wanderer, I don't need confirmation from someone else to choose where I give my attention.

Harken in Print--and Signed

Just a quick note today. You'll remember me going on about Kaleb's Nation's newest book, Harken, earlier this year. While it was first released as an ebook only, it is finally coming out in paperback. Those of us who still adore physical books are pleased. Plus, the first 2,000 preorders will get a signed copy. Click here to order yours. 

Oh, and here is the announcement video about the physical book: