Posted on by Stephanie McGann

Fairy Tales #6: The Twelve Brothers

I don’t recall ever having a student who was familiar with The Twelve Brothers by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm before I passed out copies of it. In fact, I was not familiar with it myself until I became a teacher and started designing my first unit on fairy tales. I was looking for something a little different than the usual line-up, and The Twelve Brothers was perfect.

It has just the right amount of hardship and heartache to warrant its happily ever after ending. Not only that, its bizarre storyline provides tremendous insight into the mindset and realities of the Middle Ages.

PLOT ANALYSIS
Exposition – The Background

There once lived a king and queen who had twelve sons. It happened that the queen was expecting, and her husband said, “If the thirteenth child which thou art about to bring into the world is a girl, the twelve boys shall die, in order that her possessions may be great, and that the kingdom may fall to her alone.”

Inciting Incident – The Problem

The queen was so sad upon hearing this order that her youngest son, Benjamin, would give her no peace until she explained the reason for her sadness. So hearing, he came up with a plan to hide with his brothers in the woods until the baby was born. If the child was a boy, they would return to the palace. If a girl, they would leave forever.

To the boys’ disappointment, the baby was a girl. So they ventured deeper and deeper into the woods until they came upon an enchanted cottage, which they made their home.

Rising Action – The Build-up

After the passing of ten years, the girl, who was beautiful and good and had a star on her forehead, learned she had brothers who nearly died for her sake and set off to find them. She chanced upon their very cottage and found Benjamin home alone for his brothers were out hunting, and it was his job to keep the house.

The two were happily reunited, but he feared his brothers would not share his joy. As it turned out, they had vowed to kill all maidens since they had suffered on the account of a maiden. Benjamin then used the lure of gossip to persuade his brothers not to kill the next maiden they met. Having obtained their word, he brought his sister out of hiding. Just like that, the old vendetta vanished, and the siblings were happily united.

Climax – The Breaking Point
The Twelve Brothers by Henry Justice Ford

One night soon thereafter, however, the sister picked twelve flowers from the garden of their enchanted cottage, and her brothers were all transformed into crows. By some unexplained sorcery, the brothers’ lives were contained in the flowers, and the only way for them to become men again was for their sister to stop talking for the next seven years.

Falling Action – The Unraveling

The sister immediately made a vow of silence. Alone as she was, it might not have been that hard to fulfill, but she soon found herself sought after by a king who wanted to marry her. Nevertheless, she stayed true to her vow during their courtship and marriage, even in the face of slanderous talk from her evil stepmother-in-law that ultimately condemned her to death by fire.

Resolution – Happily Ever After

Just as the first flame from the fiery stake was about to burn the sister, the term of her seven years of silence expired, and twelve crows flew down to stomp out the fire. Instantly, they turned into her brothers. The siblings were reunited; the king took his wife back; and the evil stepmother-in-law was killed. In short, everyone (but the stepmother-in-law) lived happily ever after.

MOTIFS
Primogeniture

In order to understand the bizarre twists in this fairy tale, we have to read it as a critique of primogeniture, which refers to the passing of wealth, land, and titles onto the oldest male heir. That was common practice in the Middle Ages. A king, for example, needed a son to bequeath his realm to. Only in the rarest of circumstances would a daughter receive the crown. In such cases, the daughter would really give the power of rule over to her husband.

(Queen Elizabeth is one such example. She refused to marry because she knew it would strip her of power. Not only that, her dad, King Henry VIII, married and divorced SIX times in large part to get a son.)

Against this backdrop, the king in The Twelve Brothers is rather odd. Though he has sons in spades, he not only wants a daughter but prefers to give her everything. He is even going to kill his sons to make sure they have no chance of claiming their lawful inheritance. Hence, the story turns primogeniture on its head to show how unfair it is. Primogeniture figuratively “killed” daughters in the same way that the king plans to kill his sons.

Once my students realize this, they stop thinking the story bizarre and realize that it’s really quite progressive. Children should be treated equally, whether male or female, youngest or oldest.

Girl Power

What’s more, the story celebrates “girl power” and even suggests that women would be great rulers. Beginning with her birth and ending with her vow of silence, the sister holds the power of life and death over her brothers. Yet, she does not wield that power for her own benefit. Rather, she does so sacrificially.

She gives up her inheritance in order to take care of her brothers and later gives up her voice and everything that went with it in order to turn her brothers back into men.

Her “power,” therefore, is not simply something she inherited. Indeed, she gave that kind of worldly power up. Instead, she has true power, that which is born out of sacrificial love. We see this represented by the star on her forehead. It is not just a birthmark; it is an outward sign of the inner grace that “crowns” her very self.

CONCLUSION

That kind of crown is the birthright of everyone, and whether we wear it or not is always within our power. Therein lies the full message of The Twelve Brothers. We may not always get what we deserve in life, but we should always live as the kings and queens God made us to be. Put differently, life is not about getting; it is about giving.

Like so many fairy tales, the message of The Twelve Brothers transcends time and place, offering lessons well beyond the literal storyline. It reminds us that we are all born to greatness.

Posted on by Stephanie McGann

Fairy Tales #12: A Classical Study

There is something about reading fairy tales that is quintessentially classical. After all, classical education considers the great stories of Western culture one of its core foundations. So if at the end of a school day I have read a fairy tale with my students, I am usually pleased. But, if that’s where it ends, I am all the more disappointed.

Rich as they are for the moral imagination, I try to draw as much from them as possible. Here is a breakdown of some of my favorite extension activities to do with students.

DISCOURSE
Socratic Discussion

A classical mainstay, Socratic discussion is at the heart of my approach to studying fairy tales. We discuss the stories in small groups and as a whole class, often rearranging the desks and chairs so we form one large circle or several smaller ones. This discursive format helps students break down the plot and unpack its core symbols.

I guide the discussions but play a limited role in order to encourage active engagement from the students. Plus, it lets them tease out the ideas that they find most interesting. In this way, students feel a greater sense of ownership in the discussions and make more personal contributions.

Disputation

This is a really fun one that serves as a natural outgrowth of Socratic discussion. Disputation involves debating key aspects of the story, typically those that pose moral dilemmas. For example, in reading Cat and Mouse in Partnership, we might debate whether the mouse should have formed a partnership with the cat. Or when reading Cinderella, we might debate whether or not it is a good story for little kids.

Sometimes our debates are very formal with preparation and regulated rounds. Other times, they are of a more impromptu style. Either way, the students get very animated and impassioned.

CREATIVE WRITING
Plot Reinvention

Another exercise I really like is plot reinvention. First, students have to thoroughly understand the original plot of the story, meaning they can express the inciting incident, climax, and resolution for themselves much as I have done in this blog series. Once they can do this, they choose an element to change.

If, for example, the father in Godfather Death were to choose God, then the whole story would change. The student’s job would be to tell that new story. One of the great things about this exercise is that it gives students a concrete place to start writing, which can be very difficult with more open-ended prompts.  

Character Reinvention

Character reinvention follows this same principle. What if Little Red Cap were a naughty girl? Or what if the fisherman had a tougher upper lip? Or how about making the youngest sister in Twelve Brothers a real chatter-box?

When students develop a whole new approach to a character, it affects all of his or her motives and actions and can lead to a different, not to mention highly entertaining, story altogether.

Working from Art

I also like projecting beautiful paintings or sketches from fairy tales and having students write just one scene based on the picture. This approach is a little more contained than the previous two, so it makes it easier for students to develop sharp, properly formatted dialogue and well-planned narration. As such, it readily doubles as a grammar lesson as well as a creative writing exercise.


Cinderella by John Everett Millais

In preparation for writing a scene for Cinderella, I might depict the painting above by John Everett Millais and prompt students with the following: Describe the moment in time depicted here. What are the character’s thoughts? Words? Actions? Draw your ideas together as a scene from the story. Be sure to include dialogue and narration.

ARTISTIC RENDERING
Reflective Journaling

There are a number of mediums one could use for reflective journaling, but one I really like is water color. This entails students painting something they found inspiring in a fairy tale.

After reading The Little Match Seller, one might paint a wood stove, another a Christmas tree, or even the little girl flying up to Heaven. Once students have painted their pictures, they reflect in writing on what they have depicted and why. When that’s done, they walk around and view everyone else’s journals in what we call a “museum walk.”

All the while, we play classical music and otherwise maintain silence. It makes for a very relaxing, thoughtful environment, not to mention beautiful work. 

Story Board

This one is borrowed from the publishing industry wherein editors lay out words on a story board and then contract illustrators to matches them with pictures. I have students do the same thing with a fairy tale.

Their story boards can be very elaborate or more of a quick sketch, true to the story or reinvented using one of the models above. Either way, students fine-tune their understanding of the plot and have the opportunity to do so in an artistic, visual way.

Act Them Out

Most of my students like acting out the fairy tales best of all. I give them liberty to keep or change whatever they want in the plots. For that matter, they can even combine plots as long as it makes sense. Their job is to write the script, memorize it, and present it in a formal production. Ideally, we invite other classes in the school to come and watch.

CONCLUSION

These types of exercises cause students to think deeply about the fairy tales. This is extremely valuable from an educational standpoint, not least because it helps students to really understand the stories and develop their own insights.

It is perhaps even more valuable from a moral standpoint because the lessons can serve as a guide for life’s real-world difficulties. When, for example, they are discerning the nature of a friendship, they can draw from Cat and Mouse in Partnership. They can look to The Mermaid or The Snow Queen when trying to understand the true meaning of love. Perhaps they will think about The Emperor’s New Clothes when they eventually come to critique politics. Or maybe, they will take heart from The Little Match Seller in the face of personal suffering, which no doubts awaits everyone at some point or another.

Whatever the case may be, by extending the fairy tales with additional exercises, students come to embody them in a way that will enrich their lives forever. At least that’s my hope.

Image in the public domain

Posted on by Stephanie McGann

Fairy Tales #1: Introduction

I once asked my seventh grade class what a fairy tale was, and one student said, “It’s a story that begins with Tinker Bell waving her wand over the Disney Castle.” She was joking, of course, but her words were illuminating.

Many children today associate fairy tales with the magical world of Disney and know little of the literary let alone the historical background behind them. That’s because Disney has a type of cultural monopoly over fairy tales that allows them to dictate storylines (and insert social politics) according to their commercial business preferences.

Some of their changes are small—just have Cinderella’s dad die so he doesn’t seem like such a deadbeat. No big deal to lose one measly character. Some of the changes are big—let Ariel live happily ever after with Prince Eric. Turning the little mermaid into seafoam as punishment for disobeying her father doesn’t exactly make for a box office hit. Other changes are complete transformations. How exactly is Frozen supposed to be based on The Snow-Queen?

I get it. It’s all about the bottom line. And frankly, Disney’s versions are just as authentic as the so-called “originals.” After all, fairy tales come from a long tradition of oral storytelling which allows the teller to add, subtract, stretch, and reinvent as desired. Even Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm did that.

(Yup! They didn’t “write” the tales that now bare their name. They actually traveled from town to town collecting and recording stories that were already being told.)

Defining Fairy Tales

So what holds a fairy tale together? What do they all have in common?

When I first started teaching fairy tales, I tried to find a definition to share with my students that would answer those precise questions. Most definitions talked about good conquering evil. That certainly rings true, but Disney’s version of “good” is totally different than, say, Hans Christian Andersen’s.

Let’s return to The Mermaid for a moment, which inspired Disney’s The Little Mermaid. The “goodness” of obedience was swapped out for a modern “goodness” of independence. Throw cultural differences into the mix, and you’re left with an even more ambiguous understanding of what constitutes “good.”

What’s more, most stories boil down to some kind of good versus evil paradigm, so there needs to be something further that sets fairy tales apart from other genres. This is where my student’s playful comment about Tinker Bell comes in handy because it captures the dreamy side of fairy tales and the promise of “happily ever after.” No doubt Disney’s branding with the “magical kingdom” depicts the essence of this.

Putting it all together, I eventually came up with the following definition: a fairy tale is a fanciful, make-believe story that reveals a particular set of values about society and pivots around the rewards of virtue overcoming vice.

Lake Scene with Fairies and Swans by Robert Caney

I like this definition because it allows for differences across time and place (e.g., values which are changeable) while still maintaining a set of universal principals (e.g., virtues which are unchanging). While fairy tales originated in the Middle Ages and are generally set in that time period, they are not constrained by it. Likewise, they are not limited to Western culture.

Just think of the many versions of Cinderella told all over the world. Yeh-Shen, which is a Chinese version, was one of my favorites when I was little. Like the Disney version and the Brothers Grimm version before that, it has the basic “rags to riches” storyline. A major difference, however, is that a magical fish grants Yeh-Shen’s wish to go to the ball. This reflects significant cultural differences in China wherein fish are symbols of good fortune. Nevertheless, the reasons the fish rewards Yeh-Shen are consistent with those of Disney’s Fairy Godmother and the Grimms’ magical tree: Cinderella is being rewarded for her virtues.

Fairy tales are told to bestow lessons and to offer the promise of reward if those lessons are followed. The “happily ever after” motif was a particularly powerful one in the Middle Ages where the vast majority of the population was plagued with hardship. They taught young children that if you live a life of virtue, then you will be rewarded. Of course, that reward was not really expected to be found in an earthly palace but rather in a heavenly one.   

Continuing the Tradition

There are countless reasons to study the “original” fairy tales today. They’re enjoyable, for one, but they’re also a lens into the hopes and fears of the common people of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. Given how dominated historical accounts of the time were by the affairs of royalty and nobility, fairy tales offer a type of anthropology into the lives of everybody else.

But that’s still not all. Fairy tales give us pause to reflect on our own lives. They remind us that though the world is a scary place wrought with danger, we should take heart. Virtue will prevail, if not in life then in death. As G.K. Chesterton put it, 

“Fairy tales do not tell children the dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children the dragons can be killed.”

And that’s the number one reason why children should read fairy tales, especially the “originals” that tend to be starker. To that end, this series will analyze some of the fairy tales I use in my classroom, including those that are both well-known and lesser-known: Cinderella, Godfather Death, The Snow-Queen, Little Red Cap, The Twelve Brothers, The Mermaid, The Fisherman and His Wife, Cat and Mouse in Partnership, The Little Match Seller, and The Emperor’s New Clothes. Finally, I will share the types of classical exercises I use them for with my students.

Image courtesy of The National Gallery of Art, Washington

Posted on by Stephanie McGann

The First Habit of a Storyteller: Fill-up on the Cauldron

In his essay, “On Fairy Stories,” J.R.R. Tolkien likens the collection of stories told throughout history to a soup, all simmering together in a huge pot. He says that “the Pot of Soup, the Cauldron of Story, has always been boiling, and to it have continually been added new bits, dainty and undainty.” This metaphor explains in part why there are so many versions of different fairy tales, such as Little Red Riding Hood or Cinderella. Each of the different storytellers, as Tolkien’s line of thinking goes, sampled the soup and added to it. That’s why Red’s granny sometimes dies, and Cindy’s step-sisters sometimes live.

I would like to use this metaphor for the first habit needed to become a good storyteller. Simply put, one needs to fill-up on the cauldron and taste as many stories as possible. Let’s see how this lines up with our two premier storytellers: C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien.

When I read Lewis’s Letters to Children, I eagerly underlined every book recommendation he made and soon realized I would never be able to get through them all—and those were just the ones he put down for kids! I had the same daunting realization when I read his fuller collection of letters, most of which were addressed to his brother, father, and scholarly peers, never mind culling through all the citations in his essays. Perhaps the most telling source of information on Lewis’s reading is Surprised by Joy. There he references countless stories that shaped his early life. Taken as a whole and much simplified, I think of his reading as fitting into the following categories: epics, narrative poetry, myths (especially Norse ones), romances (think Jane Austen), fairy tales, legends, fables, and Bible stories (though approached later in life).

Clearly, Lewis consumed the “cauldron of story” so fully that he was able to draw from it (however intentionally or unintentionally we will never know) in his own storytelling. Consider, for a moment, The Chronicles of Narnia. Aslan, a talking lion, is a direct representation of Christ (the Lion of Judah), yet he would fit just as easily into any one of Aesop’s fables. His great villain, Jadis (aka the White Witch), could stand up to the wickedest witch any fairy tale could dish up. What’s more, her physical characteristics line up very closely with Hans Christian Anderson’s Snow Queen. Then there are the children in his stories, all of whom have been disenfranchised in some way, much like many a famous child in the world of faerie (Hansel and Gretel, to name just two). Of course, there are overlaps with mythology as well, as seen through his many fauns and centaurs and talking animals. It’s no wonder that Lewis was a master storyteller. He hadn’t just filled up on the soup; he stuffed himself full of it over and over again.

Likewise, Tolkien had a voracious appetite for the “cauldron of story.” In the aforementioned essay, he indicates a preference for the taste of “faerie” above all else. But by his own account, that was not a dominant taste in his early life and only awakened as he got older. Nevertheless, the number of fairy tales he mentions in his essay is great. He gives the impression of having read all twelve of Andrew Lang’s fairy book collections, in addition to a good many more by the Brothers Grimm and innumerable others. He also makes casual references to countless myths and fables before closing out his essay with nuanced connections between the world of “faerie” and the Bible. He had eaten so much of the “soup” that it was oozing out of him not only in his essay, but in all his stories as well.

For example, Tolkien uses countless elements commonly found in these core materials in The Lord of the Rings, though with such a distinct flavor of his own that his recipe is wholly original. His elves are certainly not of the shoemaker type, and his dwarfs would hardly encase a dead maiden in a glass coffin (unless she had a precious stone inside of her). Tolkien’s hobbits and orcs feel altogether unique, even if one senses that some flavor, long forgotten, was conjured from the pot in their creation. Then there are human characters like Aragorn whose heroism has vague echoes of the likes of Beowulf and King Arthur but with a style all his own. There is no doubt that Tolkien filled up on the “cauldron of story” over and over again, and ultimately added many of his own “dainty bits” to it.

From Lewis and Tolkien we learn that filling up on the “cauldron of story” is an irreplaceable habit for becoming a good storyteller. Make plenty of room for epics, narrative poetry, the Bible, legends, myths, fairy tales, and fables as they provide the stock of most stories. If you eat enough of it, your own pot will soon begin to simmer.

First Image Credit: Boy Eating Soup (Enfant mangeant sa soupe), by Francois Bonvin (1861)

Second Image Credit: Soup, by William-Adolphe Bouguereau (1865)

Posted on by Stephanie McGann

The Language of Grammar: Pattern Five

Once you understand pattern four sentences, pattern five are a snap. They share the same internal logic, so it actually works well to learn them simultaneously.

Like pattern four, pattern five has three core parts. First comes the familiar subject noun (SN), or who or what the sentence is about. Next comes the linking verb (LV), which ties the subject to the predicate in a two-directional way. Last comes the predicate adjective (PA), which modifies the subject noun.

Let’s put this in context with an example. Be sure to download the grammar memorization questions as a cross-reference.

SAMPLE LESSON

Here is a simple sentence about Henry that shows the internal logic of pattern four.

To classify this sentence, we would use the following script.

Who was angry?—Henry (SN)

What is being said about Henry?—Henry was (V)

Was what?—angry

Does angry mean the same thing as Henry?—no, angry modifies Henry (PA)

Go back to the verb. —was (LV)

If you compare this question and answer flow with the one for pattern four, you will notice that everything is the same until we get to the fourth question about whether or not the predicate matches the subject. In pattern four, the answer to this question is YES, they DO match. But, in pattern five, the answer is NO, they DO NOT match. Nevertheless, they are connected in that the predicate adjective adds more meaning to the subject noun. In this example, “angry” explains what kind of person Henry is.

This is what it looks like in a diagram.

The difference between pattern four and pattern five is so subtle, they follow the exact same format when it comes to diagramming.

PRACTICE SENTENCES

For better or worse, it’s time to say goodbye to Henry and move onto his children. We will begin with his youngest child, Edward, who took the crown next in succession thanks to the practice of primogeniture explained in this post. These sentences combine pattern four and five.

“Son” matches “Edward,” so this sentence is pattern four.
“Pale” and “thin” modify “he,” so this sentence is pattern five.
“King” matches “Edward,” so this sentence is pattern four.
“Distressed” modifies “kingdom,” so this sentence is pattern five.
“Protestant” modifies “kingdom,” so this sentence is pattern five.

His rule was so short because he died prematurely at the age of fifteen, leaving a very complicated line of succession in his wake. Being so young and unwed, he had no heirs.

Thus, his eldest sister, Mary, who had previously been declared illegitimate, managed to ascend the throne despite Edward’s opposition. We’ll look at her reign in the next lesson on pattern six.