I love fairytales. My favorite Disney™ animated film is still Cinderella. Oh sure… I like most of them, even with the creative license the screenwriters take, though sometimes they take it too far (*cough* Pocahontas *cough* Little Mermaid *cough*). Reading them in their original wording is far more sinister and suspenseful than Stephen King.
The other day I was chatting with Hubby via text messages. He had mentioned he had seen a children’s book of stories at the market, and had recognized some words. I had to laugh, because he told me he tried reading Goldilocks.
Me: Not to spoil it for you, but she breaks into a house, steals food and breaks furniture, finally passing out from her wild rampage.
Hubby: Really?!? She seems like such a nice little girl.
Me: Her name is a thinly veiled reference to her cat burglar days, when she would break the safe locks to steal gold. Do not be fooled!!
And of course, the ultimate fairytale has to be The Wizard of Oz.
Placed in appropriate context, any story can be a fairytale. Likewise, any fairytale can become bitter reality.
It’s all a question of angles 😉