Little Red Riding Hood

For one of my upcoming MA seminars we are looking at the fairy tale Little Red Riding Hood, and also Wolf by Gillian Cross. I’ve been doing some background reading and found the Perrault’s version of RRH, which is in The Virago Book of Fairy Tales edited by Angela Carter. I wasn’t totally surprised to find that in this version LRRH cops it in the end. I was a bit more surprised that she is asked to take her clothes off and lie down next to grandma – didn’t remember that bit. Guess it makes it a bit more obvious what the wolf might represent.

I looked round the house and found two other versions in books of fairy tales for children. In both LRRH and grandma are eaten by the wolf but rescued by the woodcutter. Stranger danger is heavily pushed as the moral. “‘I hope this teaches you never to talk to strangers again,’ said Granny to Little Red Riding Hood. Little Red Riding Hood promised that she wouldn’t, and she never did, however charming and helpful they seemed to be.” Rather a boring (and not very polite) future for her then.

I asked my children to tell me the story to see what they remembered. Rory (7) said he knew two versions. In his first version grandma gets locked in a cupboard by the wolf and just jumps out unharmed at the end. His other version was the one where granny and RRH escape from the wolf’s stomach in one piece when the woodcutter cuts the wolf’s head off.

I told Rory that RRH just gets eaten in the original version and he was interested, but not at all bothered. I then read him the Roald Dahl revolting rhyme version (“suddenly one eyelid flickers, she whips a pistol from her knickers”). He liked this and took the Roald Dahl omnibus away and read himself some other extracts from The Witches, so a tick to RD for getting boys reading.

I then asked Frances (5). She has a language disorder so needed a bit more help and prompting but she definitely knew the story. The basket of goodies featured heavily in her version. She told me that when the wolf went to Grandma’s he ate her up “in one gulp!” (said with great glee). When LRRH went to the house she was also eaten up in one gulp. “Was that the end?” I asked “Yes, that’s the end” (said very definitely).

So from my very small sample I don’t think all re-written fairy tales to protect children’s sensitive feelings are really necessary. Of course it’s possible I am raising a couple of little sociopaths but I like to think not.

For Frannie, but not Rory, the other main point of the story was the conversation with the wolf (“Granny, what big eyes you have” “All the better to see you with my dear”, etc). We had to act this out several times (“now you be the wolf, Now I’ll be the wolf”). I know she was playing this with my mother when we were last staying during the summer holidays. It seems to me this must be partly the reason for the aural version of the story continuing to be handed down, in particular from grandmother to grandchild, just because it is fun.

Angela Carter mentions a similar experience with her own grandmother in her notes to the Perrault version in The Virago Book of Fairy Tales. It seems a natural climax to the tale.

Back to blogging

I'm returning to this blog after what turned out to be a three-month summer break. There were two reasons for this. Firstly the school summer holidays co-incided with a busy work period. I work as a freelance editor and always swear I am not going to take on much over the summer holidays. But projects being what they are, and authors being what *they* are things have a habit of creeping into July and August. This year I was working on a big project that was supposed to fall mainly in May, but we ended up having the meeting where the final style and structure was agreed on the last day of my children's school term! So evenings and weekends in July and early August were taken up with work.

The other reason is that I was investigating a change of plan in my return to academia. Soon after starting the blog some random surfing turned up an MA in children's literature at Roehampton University, not a million miles from where I live. I knew straight away I wanted to do it. At first I thought I would carry on with the plan to do some general arts study with the OU first, but then I decided not to let the small matter of a first degree in the humanities stop me, and applied to start in September. I hit send on the application at 10.30 pm the night before we went on holiday, and the place was confirmed a week before term started this month.

I didn't want to blog about it until I knew whether I had a place, but obviously this change of direction affected my reading over the summer. I have been keeping a list and was thinking of posting it here, but actually that's probably a bit self-indulgent. I have a few books I plan to write about in the next few days though.

I am taking the MA very part time, and only doing one course this year, on Critical and Theoretical Perspectives. So far I am very much enjoying my introduction to literary theory. Whether it has yet had any effect on my insights remains to be seen.

Who is the smartest of them all?

Thinking about H G Wells when reading The Amulet reminded me that when I was in my third year of Chemistry I took a subsidiary module in the history of science, and one of the essays I wrote was on the science fiction of H G Wells. I remember how excited I was to be given some "work" that involved reading novels!

I spent many happy hours up in the English section of the University library - it seemed like a different world to the basement area where the scientists and engineers were crammed in. Quite often you couldn't get a seat down there. Upstairs I had a favourite desk beside a huge window and a view over the campus. I remember a golden quality of light and a much quieter, studious air. I liked it so much I carried on working there after I finished the essay, lugging my chemistry books up from the basement.

It has to be said that the atmosphere was greatly helped by there being a lot less students in the arts sections: they were all in the bar complaining about how they had been given an increase to five taught hours this term, and wondering where to go skiing during reading week this year. Reading week! I should have known as soon as I found out about that little perk that I'd picked the wrong course.

I'm sure many will not agree with my perception of arts as somehow the soft option. But some new research got lot of coverage this week, purporting to show that candidates of similar ability got higher grades on arts subjects than sciences at A level. As someone who could have gone either way in my choice of studies I do feel that I would have found the arts easier going. But that probably says more about my natural inclinations - work does not seem like work if it is doing something you love, and although at times I found some areas of Chemistry interesting, I could never have said I loved it.

The Weirdstone of Brisingamen

I picked up a copy of The Weirdstone of Brisingamen by Alan Garner in a charity shop a few weeks ago, and was really looking forward to re-reading it. I remember reading it as a child, and certain scenes have lodged deep in my memory.

Coming to it fresh I was captivated by the writing of the first few chapters: the description of an old myth, and then the story of two children coming to stay in Cheshire. But as the book progressed I found it harder to stay engaged with passages of very visual description of how characters get from one point to another in space. I'm not a very visual person, and have to make an effort to visualise landscape. A lot of the book involves the characters finding their way from one place to another, and even with the help of the maps I had to make an effort not to skip parts.

The book also ends very abruptly; I felt a bit like I'd run into a brick wall, and could have done with some more reflection and closure.

The part I did find gripping was the part I remembered best: the escape from St Mary's Clyffe and through the mines and caverns underneath. There are parts of the description I remembered word for word, in particular the part where Peter gets stuck in the tunnel. I am slightly claustrophobic, and reading about when they have to decide to go on through a hole described as a rabbit hole still gives me chills. I can trace certain recurring dreams/nightmares of mine to this book, although of course I don't know whether they infulenced my fears or just stuck with me because they resonated with something already in my nature.

Other parts of the books felt very much like they were copied from Tolkein (for example the
dreamlike island interlude, where a mysterious golden lady gives them gifts). And although the combining of the fantasy world with our own is appealing, for me it suffered from comparison with Susan Cooper. I also had to laugh at some passages of fantasy-speak. The following I just had to read out loud to my husband.

"Along the crest of the Riddings the morthbrood watched Shape-shifter climb laboriously up from the farm. Grimnir sat a little apart from the bood, while over the top of the hill, in an old quarry, were mustered the svart-alfar.

'They are all there,' said the Morrigan. 'And they will not be drawn, though we think the threat of the mara will bring them out once the night is gone. On the move, we shall have them; but we must raise the fimbulwinter at daybreak."

I think The Owl Service is Garner's most acclaimed work. I've read this too, a long time ago, but remember finding the characters a bit unsatisfying. Maybe because they were teenagers and I read it too young. I'd like to read it again, and the sequal to Weirdstone, The Moon of Gomrath (also recently acquired at the School fete). Every book throws up others to read; I suppose that is always the way.

The Story of the Amulet

The Story of the Amulet is one of the books by E Nesbit I'm pretty sure I didn't read while I was a child. I picked it out recently because I read somewhere recently that her socialist beliefs were very apparent in the book. Which indeed is the case.

I would imagine the time travel aspect of the story would have had more impact when it was first written. As two of my son's crazes at the moment are the Back to the Future films, and Dr Who, you can imagine there is a fair amount of discussion at the moment in our house about time paradoxes. When reading the book I wondered how new the ideas would have been to readers at the time it was published. The Amulet came 10 years or so after HG Wells' The Time Machine, and there is a character in the book named Wells, presumably after HG, who was a friend of E Nesbit and fellow member of the fabian society. As far as I remember though, the time traveller in Wells' book goes forward, not backward, in time.

Some quick research shows there were other early examples of time travel novels (eg A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain). I guess I am wondering how you judge a novel, when your opinion will change based on whether an idea/approach/genre is new to you. And also, once you find out more about the author and other contemporary works, your opinion might change again as to whether a book is exceptional or groundbreaking.

I am the sort of person who likes finding out more about how things are created or written or made, and in general this enhances my enjoyment of whatever it is. But I suppose if you discovered something was heavily copied from someone else's work that could make you rate it less highly. It's an interesting consideration when looking at children's books, in that children are perhaps more likely to be coming to an idea as being fresh and new, than an adult trying to judge the book on their behalf.

Lots to think about.

I also found that the children, and the way they interact is very believable and real. I have read that E Nesbit was one of the first authors to write about children in this way. But again as a modern reader we are so used to reading about children in this way that in itself, it does not seem remarkable.

To sum up my feelings about the book, at halfway through I would have said I didn't enjoy it as much as the other "magical companion" Nesbit books, but I did like the ending and felt it resolved in a very satisfactory way. I'd like to read The Treasure Seekers now, another one I don't remember reading, although I had a copy of The Wouldbegoods and read it more than once.

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall

Last week I finished The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Bronte, and we discussed it at book group on Thursday night. We rate the books out of 10 pre- and post-discussion, and this might have been our highest scoring book to date.

It was certainly a fun discussion, and heated in places. Two members in particular felt it was better than Jane Eyre, and two of us (strongly) disagreed. It was interesting that the parts of the book that appealed to us were also different - a couple found the surrounding story more compelling than the diary section, and liked the character of Gilbert. I had found him rather inconsistent - but perhaps that is the point. I had read the scholarly introduction and all the footnotes, and the critical opinion seemed to be that the diary section was the strength of the book, so I'm not sure how much that influenced me.

One of the things the group seemed to enjoy about the book was how modern it felt. Certainly there are aspects of the characters' behaviour and motivations that are not unfamiliar to a contemporary reader. I wasn't sure though, how much that counts in the book's favour - it seems to me that on reading many of the classics we are surprised at the modern feel of the characters. I was trying to argue that that is our perception that the past is different; in fact, although social rules have changed, basic human motivation has not. A modern feel per se does not then make it a better book. But I'm not sure how clearly I made my point as several bottles of wine had been consumed by that point.

Anne Bronte would not have approved.

I think I will have to read Wuthering Heights. I started it and gave up when I was a teenager, although I enjoyed Jane Eyre at that age. But I've found reading about the Brontes interesting: I read Jane Eyre (again) for my other book group a year or so ago, and also read Anges Grey a couple of years ago (and re-read the introduction in preparation for last Thursday). So I think I need to read Emily Bronte to complete the trio.

Audiobooks

I forgot a fourth category of book: audiobooks. I bought an ipod in March and have a subscription to audible.com. I had hoped that having something interesting to listen to might make me do more round the house. Hasn't really worked out that way, but it does make what I do get done more bearable.

I don't use the ipod much for music, but mainly for podcasts and audiobooks. I decided last week that I wasn't actually enjoying ficiton in audio form that much. It's harder to follow, and I miss being able to go back and check things. My first audiobooks were Lisey's Story (Stephen King) and Fragile Things (Neil Gaiman). Lisey's Story was OK, but a bit too drawn out for my taste. Plus some of the inconsistencies of the characters visiting the alternate world annoyed me. Fragile Things (short stories) is great, and I particularly enjoyed listening to stories read by the author. But now I want the book too!

The latest choice is The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield. I was finding this really hard to get into, and in fact was on the verge of giving up. I couldn't work out what on earth was going on, or who any of the characters were. It was only when I went to order my next choice I realised I had accidentally downloaded part 2 before part 1. Doh. In my defence on the ipod it labels the chapters rather randomly starting from 1 even if it is the second part, and I had always selected it from the menu before it scrolled over to the "part" bit of the title.

Now that I have started again from the actual beginning I am enjoying it a lot more, and I didn't listen to so much that it's spoiled what's to come (I hope).

I listened to an hour or so in the car on the way from London to Cardiff on Friday night. The last time I did that journey I listened to four episodes in a row of Start the Week, a Radio 4 podcast with Andrew Marr. By the time I arrived I felt my IQ had risen by at least 3 points. I've downloaded Andrew Marr's History of Modern Britain for my next audible choice - this was before I realised maybe I can do audio fiction after all.