Sports

 For those of us in North America, there’s a sports event on tonight.  It’s a bizarre ritual, where grown men chase an oval item along a field… they carry it in their hands, but it’s somehow called “football.”  As far as I can make out, one team runs with the “ball” for a bit, then the other team, then they stop for a beer commercial.  Don is busy watching, and Jerry has been relegated to a spot on the floor — incidentally by my feet — where he’s sulking at not being allowed up to play.  He was tossing his toy around until the game started and Don ignored him, and he came over to complain.  I found energy today and cooked some minced chicken, with the intention of making spaghetti sauce or something similar.  I ate some of it, and am negotiating a peace treaty with my stomach, which seems to think that solid food is a declaration of war.  I’m glad I did; I was hungry, but apparently it was a little more than I could easily handle.  That’s super annoying, just saying.  The weather continues to be mild, and the snow is slowly retreating.  It’s only February, though, so I won’t relax and start yelling enthusiastically about spring just yet.  Winter isn’t over for at least another month yet.

I have to ask — what did you learn from fairy tales?  I had a (mercifully brief) conversation with a woman who is vehemently opposed to fairy tales in all forms, because (according to her) they are misogynistic, perpetuate patriarchal stereotypes and reinforce outmoded gender roles.  (That’s the short, kind version of her diatribe.)  She thinks that nobody should ever read fairy tales for any reason, and that children should be brought up to fully face all the “real facts of life.”  (I’ll just add a small side note that she’s also opposed to homework in schools, thinks exams should be abolished and disapproves of celebrating Valentine’s Day in schools, but encourages Halloween.  You may infer my thoughts on her philosophy.)  I’d written about fairy tales in an earlier blog post and my views haven’t softened.  That post covers what I think fairy tales teach, and basically what I learned from them.  I know that it’s out of fashion to talk about enjoying “kitchen tales” but they’re such a part of life that if I say, “it’s a Cinderella story” you know that it speaks of someone who goes from rags to riches seemingly almost overnight.  Stories are how we communicate our ideas, values, traditions, lessons… they stay with us in a way that straight facts don’t.  I can tell you a few thousand times that we should help others, and you’ll probably grunt in mute agreement; or I can tell you a story about the young boy who showed his parents that he would treat them how they treated their parents, and it would touch you more deeply.  (There are actually several versions of this story from countries in Europe, Asia and Africa; they vary only in minor details.)  I think that there’s a reason that these tales have survived as long as they have, which is that they continue to touch on the human condition.

Not all fairy tales contain fairies, though the ones that do are more magical (obviously) but they all touch on similar themes.  I think it’s reductive and overly simplistic to reduce the stories to “the prince rescued the princess and they lived happily ever after.”  I do agree that it’s good and necessary to have the stories where the princess either doesn’t need rescuing or is the one who does the saving of the kingdom.  I also agree that a historical lack of female voices in storytelling makes it more challenging to find tales where women take a lead and positive role. (Someone once wrote that the stories that are told are the men’s stories, because they never learnt the tales women tell each other when there are no men or children around.  It’s likely that they’re much more profound than we think.) My favourite of those is Scheherazade, she who told 1,001 tales to save the lives of all the women in the kingdom.  I also love the tale of Sita, who defended herself from rape for 10 years at the hands of Ravana.  (Rama, IMHO, deserved a good horsewhipping for his behaviour when they were reunited.  I said what I said.)  I recently got into some tales from Cameroon and Ghana, in which there’s an absence of princes and princesses, but an abundance of resourceful wives and wise women.  So, to the woman I’d spoken to, I recommended reading stories out of the Eurocentric canon, and learning about how the many cultures handle the life lessons that are conveyed through these stories.  My young niece, at the moment, is a massive fan of princesses (thankfully, Ariel isn’t one of her favourites, because I will never stop hating Disney’s treatment of The Little Mermaid.)  It’s my obligation to be sure that she reads widely, including lots of fairy tales.  And, of course, for my nephew.  

I’ve often wondered if my love of reading would diminish if I ever formally studied literature or mythology or fantasy/science fiction.  I’m not willing to risk that; instead I will apply the techniques I learnt a long time ago in school on analyzing stories to be able to enhance my enjoyment, minus the rigour of picking apart the writing.  My father explained once that literature (story-telling, in essence) was how we explained society and our role in it.  Over time, I’ve come to appreciate a lot of depth that shows up in good writing, including hints about society at the time the tale was written.  It’s the same, I think, with fairy tales.  Those are stories of courage, risk taking, challenging the status quo, triumphing over evil.  It’s a huge disservice to describe them as unworthy.  I obviously would encourage reading them, and talking about the lessons they teach, both to children, and to adults who have come to realize that they should read them again.  

OK, that was more of a rant than I expected, sorry.  I get riled up when people become sanctimonious and preach against innocence in the guise of “strict truth telling.”  The sport game is still sporting, and there’s a promise of a musical interlude, so I’ll stop here and annoy the dog (and the man) for a bit.  Good night!