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!!
Hubby: Hehehe…
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 😉
Sithy Things 