Little Red Riding Hood corrupted

Review of ”The Girl, the Wolf, the Crone” by Kelly Wells.

Kel­lie Wells, ”The Girl, the Wolf, the Crone”, in Car­men Giménez Smith et al. My Mother She Killed Me, My Father He Ate Me: Forty New Fairy Tales. Pen­guin Books, 2010, pg. 353–360

Plot sum­mary:

Cover of the volume where the story was pub­lished. (Source: Goodreads.)

Once upon a time there was a wo­man who al­ways car­ried around a loaf of bread. One day, she de­cided to give the loaf of bread to her daugh­ter, for her to give to a sickly wolf. The girl hit the road un­til she met a forked road “where every­one chooses wrongly”. One road was paved with spoons and the other one was littered with saus­ages. The girl meets a wo­man who gives her a warn­ing that she already had chosen the wrong road even though the girl did not make her choice yet. The girl chose the one with the spoons and car­ried on her way. Mean­while, the wo­man ar­rived to the wolf be­fore the girl did, and so, she ate the sickly wolf, spat its bones on the bed and got in­side the wolf’s skin. When the girl ar­rived to the wolf’s place, she no­ticed the bones and real­ized that some­thing was wrong. Still, she sat on the bed to­gether with the wo­man in the wolf’s skin. The lat­ter ate the girl and swal­lowed her alive. One hunts­man came to the res­cue, cut the belly of the wolf and got the girl out, to­gether with her loaf of bread. In the end, the wo­man is presen­ted again as be­ing the mother of the girl.

Kel­lie Wells is a teacher and a writer of short stor­ies and nov­els. With The Girl, the Wolf, the Crone, she re­wrote the story of Little Red Rid­ing Hood, present­ing it as a cor­rupt ver­sion of the story by chan­ging the gender roles. She states that with this ver­sion, she tried to make it “kind of gar­ishly lit, demi-lu­cid dream”, be­cause fairy-tales are fic­tion after all, and fic­tion al­lows anything.

The title of the fairy-tale is sug­gest­ive enough as it presents the prot­ag­on­ists of the main ac­tion: the girl who travels to the sickly wolf, the wolf it­self and the crone – the mother of the girl. Crone can also be seen as al­tern­at­ive way when re­fer­ring to an old per­son. It does sound like a fairy-tale and it does refer to the text itself.

The char­ac­ters are: the girl – who is asked by her mother to travel with a loaf of bread to a sickly wolf. As obed­i­ent as Little Red Rid­ing Hood was, she obeyed her mom and tried to stay in her path to suc­ceed in her mis­sion. At the end the girl is eaten by the wolf, who is ac­tu­ally her mother. The hunts­man though saves the girl from the wolf’s belly. The wolf por­trays the an­imal that just fol­lows his an­imal in­stincts. The wolf gets tricked by the wo­man, who eats him. The Wo­man (or the Crone) – the mother of the girl, the wo­man the girl meets at the forked road, the ac­tual pred­ator who eats the wolf and the girl. She gets killed at the end by the huntsman.

Little Red Rid­ing Hood re­cycled.
Based on Gust­ave Doré’s fam­ous il­lus­tra­tion to the tale, this col­lage by © Storynook Pooka sug­gests both the re­cyc­ling of the tale and the cor­rup­tion of the ori­ginal food chain.

The de­scribed epoch and the time it­self is in­de­term­in­ate and not even spe­cified or re­ferred to in any way. We can only as­sume that the story presen­ted by Kel­lie Wells happened some­how in the same or ap­prox­im­ate time as Little Red Rid­ing Hood. The an­ti­quated lan­guage though may give us a little hint of the time: “Be­hold, he is at hand that doth be­tray me” or “to bet­ter to chide with you, lovey”, as nobody would ex­press them­selves or­ally in that man­ner any­more, which makes us think of a few cen­tur­ies before.

The at­mo­sphere seems to be fant­astic in the story, just as every other fairy-tale. 

The text it­self is a par­ody, a re­writ­ing of Little Red Rid­ing Hood, but in which the pred­ator is the girl’s mother. The gender roles are re­versed: the wolf and the girl are the vic­tims, the grandma is not present, but the hunts­man is – play­ing the same role as sa­vior in the end, just as he did in the ori­ginal fairy-tale (the Grimm ver­sion though, not Perrault’s version).

The text has the char­ac­ter­ist­ics of a fairy tale: the ini­tial for­mula “More than once there was […]”, the ste­reo­typed char­ac­ters, it presents ele­ments of fantasy or fant­astic, the mar­velous is also present, good and evil char­ac­ters are defined (though there is a twist, as the pred­ator is ac­tu­ally the crone, and not the wolf), there is a clearly defined cli­max or res­ol­u­tion (with the pres­ence of the hunts­man who kills the wolf and im­pli­citly the crone who is in­side its skin) and there is a happy end­ing (even though this is not al­ways the case in fairy-tales).

The sim­ilar fairy-tales and the ones which this story play­gi­ar­ized are in­deed Little Red Rid­ing Hood and Little Red Cap by Charles Per­rault and Grimm brothers.

This story does not take many liber­ties from the ori­ginal fairy-tale ideas. It does in­clude some func­tions met in Vladi­mir Propp’s func­tions of the fairy-tales, the ini­tial situ­ation, the de­par­ture, the re­con­nais­sance, the trick­ery, the ex­pos­ure and the pun­ish­ment. It has the main fea­tures of a fairy-tale, there­fore we can­not say that they are not ac­cord­ing to the fairy-tale’s logic.

This text is con­nec­ted with other texts through the prism of the sub­ject: the dis­tor­tion of the clas­sic fairy-tale re­gard­ing a girl, a wolf, a hunts­man and a grandma: Little Red Rid­ing Hood and Little Red Cap. The al­lu­sion of the text is pretty ob­vi­ous and mock­ing in some way by re­vers­ing the roles. We have here par­ody, and not pas­tiche, as the text mocks in a way the ori­ginal fairy-tales and it sees it in a ri­dicu­lous and ab­surd way.

The pred­ator be­comes the prey.
(Col­lage © Storynook Pooka based on Gust­ave Doré’s il­lus­tra­tion to Perrault)

The au­thor seems to be very dis­tant of the story it­self, she does not in­clude her­self or ad­opt the lan­guage or facts presen­ted in the text. She uses re­por­ted speech and por­trays the role of the dis­tant teller of the story, not in­clud­ing sub­jectiv­ity or per­sonal opin­ions and thoughts into it, but only present­ing it as it happened. Hon­estly, I can­not find any parts that seem to ad­dress spe­cific­ally to con­tem­por­ary audience.

Kel­lie Wells does not try at all to in­tro­duce her­self in the story, nor per­sonal opin­ions or thoughts, she simply presents the facts as they are and give us the story the way you would read it to you child at night be­fore bed­time. Not hav­ing dir­ect im­plic­a­tions from the au­thor, she does not in­trude in the text, she is more as an an­cient and tries to come close to the ori­ginal fairy-tale, by do­ing so.

The mor­al­ity of the tale would be: Be wary of oth­ers, the ones closest to you, as the girl is ac­tu­ally eaten by her own mother, in the skin of the wolf. The mor­ale is an im­pli­cit one, as you are the one who must de­duct it from the story. There isn’t much room of sub­jectiv­ity when it comes to the mor­ale of the story, I be­lieve it is ap­plied to every­one who read the story, and there­fore it does come from the con­ven­tional wisdom.

It does sup­port the tra­di­tional meth­ods of the so­cial­iz­a­tion of chil­dren, they are the ones who get in trouble in fairy-tales (think of Hansel & Gretel, Jack with his bean­stalk, Little Red Cap, Gol­die Locks, Pinoc­chio) and there­fore the les­son is for them to learn mostly. We can learn as well (if we haven’t un­til this age) from the stor­ies. It is not sub­vers­ive and the text does not present us a Uto­pia, but neither a Dystopia.

The ele­ments of re­versal hap­pen only in the case of the gender roles: the crone/woman is the pred­ator — role taken by the wolf in ori­ginal fairy-tale. The girl re­mains a vic­tim; but the nov­elty is that this time the wolf is also a vic­tim; the hunts­man: plays the same part, that of the sa­vior. Their so­cial class seems to be middle or low (but not bot­tom low), as the loaf of bread that the wo­man keeps car­ry­ing around seems to be valu­able (and who could cher­ish that much a loaf of bread, if not the poor?).

The style of the text is simple, not soph­ist­ic­ated, only filled with old terms, not in style today: “Be­hold, he is at hand that doth be­tray me, croaked the woman’s belly. She was hav­ing a little trouble re­strain­ing her feral ana­tomy, and she put a hand to her com­plic­ated crotch and her be­furred breasts and gave everything a shake and an up­ward tug. Oof, went her stomach.”

It is pretty much myth­ical, and noth­ing con­tem­por­ary that I could no­tice… and not very al­lus­ive, though there is a pas­sage that made me re­read it three times in or­der to un­der­stand it, and maybe I could not even get it right by that time: “The girl, with a face like a rus­ted skil­let, clutched the bread, and when she saw the hunts­man, she went, stem to stern, red as the end of the world; the hunts­man took one look at the girl and thought Bolshevik and de­cided no brazen-faced rose that ru­til­ant was worth de­flower­ing.” It is kind of am­bigu­ous and pos­sibly sexual…?! Not really sure how to in­ter­pret this…

An­other fa­mil­iar pas­sage, sim­ilar to the one in the ori­ginal fairy-tale might be: “What op­pos­able thumbs you have, wolf!” bleated the girl, who began to fear that this blue and breasted creature was not all that he seemed, this wo­manly wolf that smelled vaguely medi­cinal, giv­ing off an odor of vit­am­ins, blood, and mol­der­ing roses. And thumbs, he smelled of thumbs!”

The audi­ence of the text could be young adults, but the author’s audi­ence does not seem to be very clear from the text. We have that mor­ale at the end of it (which is per­sonal and sub­ject­ive and not ap­plic­able for every­one) which could in­dic­ate that the story is meant for chil­dren, but is it though? As an adult, I could not see a ref­er­ence to­wards us, adults, but still, hon­estly I would not give this text to chil­dren to read, it simply seems too me vul­gar and not suitable.

The au­thor does not seem to try hard to cap­ture the audi­ence into the nar­rat­ive, but the reader is given mul­tiple chances of in­ter­pret­ing it, es­pe­cially the end­ing, which is am­bigu­ous and open to per­sonal interpretations.

References:

Smith, Car­men Giménez et al. My Mother She Killed Me, My Father He Ate Me: Forty New Fairy Tales. Pen­guin Books, 2010, pg. 353–360

For Vladi­mir Propp’s func­tions of the fairy-tales: <https://​tvtropes​.org/​p​m​w​i​k​i​/​p​m​w​i​k​i​.​p​h​p​/​M​a​i​n​/​P​r​o​p​p​s​F​u​n​c​t​i​o​n​s​O​f​F​o​l​ktales>

For the Aarne-Thompson clas­si­fic­a­tion sys­tem of the fairy-tales: <http://​www​.mftd​.org/​i​n​d​e​x​.​p​h​p​?​a​c​t​i​on=atu>

Octavian Ciprian Major 

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