The Philosopher's Pen Part Five

A less well known interpretation of fairy tales has been carried out by Anne Wilson. Her basic premise is that narrative fantasy involves a form of magical thinking completely free from the laws and realities of the external world. In other words it is pre-logical – the level of consciousness at which small children operate, and thus highly attractive to children. It is counter-productive, she argues, to impose rational purposes to the plots or characters in folk tales, the way Bettelheim attempts to do, because they are irrational systems and can only be accessed by the parts of our mind that process and appreciate nonsense.

Wilson claims that identification of the child with the protagonist is key. This is because the stories are seen as the magical creation of the hero. That is they represent the protagonist thinking about his or her internal conflicts. This is not done at a conscious, analytical level, rather the hero “contemplates her wishes and feelings and these thoughts take form spontaneously as characters, deeds or experiences.” Sometimes these feelings or conflicts manifest in the form of an external self: a character in disguise, for example a villain or a monster, in the same way that small children might externalise a dilemma in play that they would not be able to understand or express rationally (eg a dolly who wants to eat people).

This is part of the same magical thought process where children believe that their wishes can shape the real world. Hence, in the fairy tale, things happen or appear when it is right for them to do so, ie when the protagonist needs them to materialise.

In her interpretation of The Goose Girl, where a princess is forced to swap roles by her avaricious maid, Wilson argues that the hero’s main conflict is based on a feeling that she is not a real princess, (ie not fit to become a queen), but a usurper. Thus the narrative is driven by her need to explore and resolve these feelings. Wilson looks closely at the repetition of actions and dialogue in the story. The words “If this your mother knew, her heart would break in two” is repeated six times; twice the maid refuses to fetch the princess water in her golden cup and three times the princess greets the severed head of her talking horse hung on the city walls. These ritualistic repetitions do three things a) highlight the hero’s conflict, b) enable a working-through of the hero’s problems and c) become an indicator of change leading to resolution.

The narrative is in no sense logical. How is it that the maid should be able to assume power so easily? Why does the princess’s talking horse, Falada, not protest at her treatment or reveal the maid’s treachery to the king? These things happen because, although ostensibly nonsensical, the internal logic of the narrative is based on the protagonist’s sense that she is a fraud. It is not until the hero has worked through the conflict and achieved self-recognition that she can be crowned queen.

According to Hugh Crago, Wilson’s theory shows how the collective unconscious works through narrative.  The actions of the fairy tale hero “embody the collective magical thought processes of the community that told and received the tale.” Not that these folk tales were ever a deliberate attempt to instruct, but rather came into being as a body of stories that were deeply, collectively meaningful and helped solve common human problems.

So, can we claim that there is one all-clarifying perspective which identifies the ‘true’ function of fairy tales?  Certainly Zipes’ argument is compelling but, by its very nature, implies that stripped of their original socio-economic context, the tales cease to have real impact and appear merely fantastical or quaint. Perhaps this is why today the psychoanalytical approach seems so appealing; the stories have, it seems, become more meaningful at a symbolic level. However Bettelheim’s attempt to impose a rational system on the irrational processes within fairy tales, have led to overly rigid and somewhat moralistic interpretations. Wilson’s theory is interesting because it allows for both the deep collective response of the community and the individual response of the small child, to whom magical or pre-logical thought is natural. What seems clear is that fairy tales, far from having a constant, definitive form or being culturally fixed have, over the centuries, been in a continual state of flux and revision. This in itself is very telling – perhaps the sheer flexibility and adaptability of the form, and its ability to reflect both social realities and psychological truths, has ensured its on-going relevance to the contemporary reader, whether adult or child.