A Brief (and accidentally feminist) History of the Fairy Tale

Izzy Woods

In the contemporary psyche, it might be the colourful, musical Disney adaptations that come to mind when the phrase ‘fairy tale’ is uttered. Perhaps at a push, it could be the more gruesome tales penned by the Brothers Grimm. However, researchers at universities in Durham and Lisbon found that some fairy tales have roots from before the earliest literary records, with one believed to have originated during the Bronze Age. It was only during the 17th century that the name ‘fairy tale’ (conte de fées in French) was ascribed to them by Madame d’Aulnoy, who herself was known for writing fairy tales. Meanwhile, some folklorists prefer to use the German term Märchen or ‘wonder tale’. ‘Mӓrchen’ is the diminutive of ‘mär’ which means story or tale, and therefore signifies a ‘little story’. Combined with the commonly used opening ‘once upon a time’, and the less common German preamble ‘in den alten Zeiten, wo das Wünschen noch geholfen hat’ (‘in the old days when wishing still helped’), we learn that fairy tales were originally little stories from a long time ago when the world was still magic.

The Brothers Grimm would have sided with 21st century researchers when they committed some of these tales to paper in the 19th century, as they believed that they were passed down generations orally, originating in a shared cultural history dating back to the birth of the Indo-European language family. If this is the case, it is likely that the tales began and lived on through the lives of women, as storytelling had long been their domain. The tales themselves reflect some of the hopes and fears of women: that they would find a prince, or a castle, or just simply someone or something that could provide a happy ending; or, on the flip side, that their children would be taken away, they would be mistreated by men, or that they would succumb to the process of ageing. The popularity of fairy tales in Europe surged in the 17th century through the salons of Paris, which were gatherings hosted by aristocratic women, intended to discuss matters of concern to them. During this time, a parlour game based on fairy tales came into vogue. Individuals would retell an old tale or rework an old theme, simultaneously creating new stories and reflecting upon aspects of aristocratic life. These tales often featured young and clever aristocratic girls whose lives were controlled by the whims of overbearing men, as well as tales in which groups of wise fairies stepped in to put the world to rights (anyone else thinking of Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather? Sidenote: Disney’s Sleeping Beauty actually passes the Bechdel test...).

Flora, Fauna and Merryweather. Feminist icons. Disney's Sleeping Beauty, 1959

What is becoming clear is that fairy tales were never meant to be primarily enjoyed by children. The Victorian era ushered in renewed interest in fairy tales, which can be attributed to the publication and popularity of Grimms’ Fairy Tales. It is likely that this is where the transition from wives’ tales to children’s tales occurred, since the 19th century was the first time childhood was regarded as a period of life in its own rite. Grimms’ Fairy Tales retained all of the violence (particularly when it came to punishing villains) but omitted any allusion to sex, rendering the tales more appropriate for the attention of children. The moralising trend in the Victorian era also altered tales to teach lessons, which coincided with the gradual change in the use of language relating to the women in these stories. In later editions, there was a marked shift towards language which condemned women who deviated from what was considered the perfect Christian woman. This was a far cry from the original tales where luck counted more towards a happy ending than obedience. The emphasis in these tales on women’s passivity and beauty served to legitimise and support the dominant gender system of the period.

Increased interest in the genre meant that there was a rise in ‘fairy paintings’. The popularity of fairy tales and the new visual language of the period meant that these versions have remained in the public psyche, arguably a far cry from the stories passed down through generations of women. Where colour illustrations were used alongside written fairy tales, the characters were typically white. With the introduction of the Disney adaptations, beginning in 1937 with Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, there began a trend where white was equated with good, and black with evil. In Snow White, the young princess’ skin is ‘as white as snow’, she is surrounded by white birds, and when she is laid down after her death, she holds a bouquet of white flowers.

Meanwhile, the evil queen dresses entirely in black, and lives in a black castle in a dark forest, filled with black bats and owls. The effects of such distinctions in Disney adaptations have been studied by Elizabeth Yeoman, who conducted a study in which children were encouraged to write ‘disruptive’ stories that went beyond limiting storylines concerning race, gender, and class. While many of the children demonstrated an ability to move beyond narrow portrayals of gender, there remained a conflation of ‘white’ with goodness, beauty, and happy endings.

Eurocentric masculine-dominated fairy tales were criticised by feminists in the 1970s who were concerned that they - particularly the damsel in distress figure - negatively shaped women’s perceptions of themselves and what they could expect from their lives. Feminist reimaginations were popularised, perhaps most famously in Angela Carter’s collection of short stories The Bloody Chamber (1979). A common device in these retellings is the use of recognisable markers which allow writers to communicate points of social criticism. Author Helen Oyeyemi has also taken on the task of reimagining these tales to highlight social issues. In her 2014 novel Boy, Snow, Bird, she adapted the story of Snow White to contest the original’s repeated assertion that beauty required skin as white as snow.

An example of a 19th century 'fairy painting'. Theodor von Holst, The Fairy Lovers, c. 1840

In 2020 Penguin brought out a series of Feminist Fairytales, where four authors, including Malorie Blackman and Kamila Shamsie, reimagined classic fairy tales for ‘modern boys and girls’. Bluebeard and Hansel and Gretel are amongst the stories, which discuss themes such as immigration, climate change, patriarchy, and compassion. Their release was largely met with positive praise, but some traditionalists claimed that such retellings are indoctrinating children. But haven’t fairy tales always done this? As Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett says in her review of the series, “I was raised by Disney to believe that I needed a 22-inch waist and a prince with a castle to truly get by in life” (The Guardian, 2020). Hopefully our priorities have shifted with more contemporary retellings.

So which iteration of fairy tales are these traditionalists trying to protect? Those passed orally from the Bronze Age, or those retold by 17th century female aristocrats? Perhaps the ones committed to paper by the Brothers Grimm then? The most likely explanation is that they’re missing the point. Fairy tales have managed to exist and evolve all over the world because they stem from common human experience, they have never just fitted in one box. There’s no happily ever after for the history of fairy tales, we’ll just have to see where they go next.