Is what I am currently reading (along with The Magician's Nephew, where I get to read a lot of, "Look here, Diggory," said Polly presently. Only Lewis could do that). And so far the fairy tales have not disappointed. What with their shot length, formulaic stages of character improvement, rhymes and riddles and of course the ever present good versus evil battle; I have been happily entertained since I started reading them last night.
I can remember a lot of these stories from when I grew up. Especially, Jack and the Beanstalk and The Three Bears (I have no idea why Goldilocks doesn't get a mention in the title) and of course Rumpelstiltskin, or his cousin, Tom Tit Tot. But then there are the others that I never touched on when I was 6 years old and sat in awed silence on the itchy mat during reading hour when we would sit stock still and listen to stories (such blissful, sweet afternoons). There's, St George of Merrie England, The Black Bull of Norraway, Nix Naught Nothing and The Red Ettin; all so rich in colour and character with tales of courage, solid love, endurance and some magic for good measure. But it is the more human qualities of the characters who make stupid choices that lead to curses and adversities until rescued by others with more sound minds and generous hearts that keep capturing me. I know I'd be the one who would cut corners because of impatience and find myself in a bog of quicksand 100 yards from home weeping and wailing until rescued. I know this, because I have done this; I do this. But it seems it's okay to make mistakes, to take the wrong turn, to get confused and lose your place in the story because this big story we're in the midst of is being written by one with such keen skill, He'll have us back on track with lessons learned and the added bonus of first hand experiences.
The only thing missing from my fairy tales is who wrote them. But then where do you begin trying to narrow down the folk stories that have been shared and whispered, reshaped and passed along the ages by scores of men, women and children?
Maybe that's what gives fairy tales their timeless quality. The authors are all of us, who have ever lived, travelled, trusted, loved, betrayed and done the same or fought for something bigger than ourselves.
The authors were those. The authors are us.
This was beautifully written. I love that idea that we are all authors of those tales. I too would land in the quicksand, convinced I can do it my way. Even now, I struggle to wait in that proverbial tower for my prince. I keep climbing down or at least shouting "Over here!". Poor dude. Have to say, I learn things the hard way. It has taken me nearly 6 years to fully accept that only God can change people and only He can craft that magical love story my heart craves. Now to start walking in that realisation...
ReplyDeleteWe'll get there someday, chum xx