A good essay starts with a good idea. It’s really that simple. Thus, much of my “writing instruction” doesn’t even involve writing. Instead, it consists of Socratic discussions and disputations based on the great books in our Literature studies or the rich content of our History lessons.
And that’s the special something that makes essays in a classical classroom turn out so nicely. They are not one-off assignments or formulaic gobbley gook from a pre-packaged writing program.
Certainly students can write wonderful essays drawn from fairly typical prompts like, “Who is your favorite athlete?” In my first few years of teaching, I sampled some of those prompts, and the essays were okay at best. They generally read like the students didn’t care all that much about what they were saying, almost like they felt the prompts were beneath them. Frankly, they were.
Students are capable of much deeper thinking beyond what Derek Jeter or even Babe Ruth can elicit. They need a chance to engage the “big questions” and to develop and write out their own opinions on ideas related to life and death, love and romance, wisdom and foolishness, to name a few.
At least in my classroom, essays drawn from King Arthuror The Marriage Sethave students on the edge of their seats. Likewise, an essay to evaluate the justice of the Crusades in the Middle Ages sparks an impassioned response. And the reason students engage those essays with such passion is because they had ample time to develop and defend their ideas during a unit. They already have skin in the game, so to speak.
What’s more, students enjoy defining their own essay topics because they have so many ideas to work with. I think John Steinbeck was right when he said,
Rabbits by Henri-Charles Guérard
Ideas are like rabbits. You get a couple and learn how to handle them, and pretty soon you have a dozen.”
In a classical classroom, students get to “pet” dozens and dozens of “bunnies” before they raise one into an essay. All that experience builds confidence in students and helps the chosen “bunnies” thrive.
For example, when we read Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc, we spend a lot of time dealing with the concept of “construction of memoir.” From those discussions, one student might write an essay on whether or not Mark Twain was “telling the truth” about Joan’s life. Another might write about the type of military leader Joan was and another about how she handled herself during her trial and condemnation. Each of those essays reflects discussions we had in class, albeit with additional ideas unique to individual students.
While my approach to writing instruction is fluid enough to draw from almost anything we discuss, it is also deliberate in its planning and implementation. My goal is for all of my students to learn the writing process and be able to apply it to three essay formats: the simple essay, the classical essay, and the personal essay. I will breakdown what this entails in subsequent posts.
Image courtesy of The National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.
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
Deathwere 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 Brothersa 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 Mermaidor The Snow Queenwhen trying to understand the true meaning of love. Perhaps they will think about The Emperor’s New Clotheswhen they eventually come to critique politics. Or maybe, they will take heart from The Little Match Sellerin 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.
The Emperor’s New Clothes by Hans Christian Andersen continues to fascinate modern day children. Of course everybody loves the famous underwear scene, but that’s not the only reason it has endured. It also touches on an array of virtues and vices like wisdom versus foolishness and humility versus pride in highly palpable ways. What’s more, it offers lessons for the everyday person and the statesman alike.
In order to unpack those ideas, let’s first examine the
plot.
PLOT SUMMARY
Exposition – The
Background
There lives an emperor who is particularly fond of his appearance and spares no expense to dress in the finest attire. So obsessed is he, that he spends virtually all of his time consumed with his looks instead of the affairs of state.
Inciting Incident –
The Problem
Knowing the emperor’s disposition, two swindlers seek to deceive the king and thereby make a profit. They pretend to be fine tailors and offer to sew him an outfit of such unmatched quality that none but the wisest can see it.
Rising Action – The
Build-up
Greedy for such finery, the emperor commissions the tailors and follows their progress most eagerly. However, fearing his own foolishness would be revealed if he could not see the clothes, he sends in several of his advisors one after another to look at the clothes on his behalf.
As the tailors are not actually sewing anything but simply pretending to cut fabric and sew seams, none can see anything. Yet, all pretend to see a fine outfit for fear of being thought foolish. As the days progress and the pretend outfit nears completion, the emperor plans a royal procession throughout the streets of his kingdom to show off his new clothes.
Climax – The Point of
No Return
Finally, the emperor steps into his dressing chamber to try on his new outfit. Of course he can not see the clothes because they do not exist, but he pretends to get dressed in them just the same. There is no way he is going to admit that he does not see them because he, too, does not want to be thought a fool.
Falling Action – The
Unraveling
And so the king processes through the streets with a grand
entourage wearing only his underwear but believing himself royally clad.
Anti-resolution – The
Truth is Out
All but a small child pretend to see the outfit. The child,
not concerned with the thoughts of others, blurts out the obvious truth that
the emperor is wearing nothing but underwear. The rest of the crowd soon also
acknowledges this to be true.
Even the king realizes he has been made a fool of, but he
continues on his procession, unwilling to acknowledge his shame.
PLOT ANALYSIS
Clothed in Falsehood
There are a number of figurative interpretations at play in
this timeless story. Perhaps the first and most obvious has to do with vanity.
After all, the king is obsessed with his looks, and that is what leads him down
a foolish path.
When we dig just a little deeper, it becomes clear that his vanity relates not only to his looks but also to his power. He is obsessed with “being king” yet cares nothing for the real duties this entails. Instead, he spends his days playing dress-up, so to speak, and pretending to be in charge of the kingdom.
What’s worse, he knows he is a fool and is worried sick that
anyone should find out. That is why he refuses to look at the outfit himself.
He knows from the beginning that he is not wise enough to see it. And when he
finally looks into the dressing room, his doubts about himself are confirmed.
He cannot see the outfit.
Helen Stratton, The fairy tales of Hans Christian Andersen, page 45 illustration
Ironically, what he really cannot see is that he has been tricked. When he parades through town in his underwear, he believes himself regally clad. Just as the truth of his nakedness is revealed, so too is the truth of his power. He has none. All his wisdom and authority are empty, so much so that even a small child knows it.
It does not take an act of war or even well-planned subterfuge to bring about his downfall. It takes only two swindlers. He truly was not fit to be king.
Historical Lessons
This story, though about a king, was not written for a king. It was written for the people.
We know that because the narrator lets us readers in on the
trick the swindlers are playing. From the beginning, we know they are not
really sewing a fine outfit, and we anxiously look forward to seeing how the
king will deal with them. We may hope he does not fall for their trick, but we
thoroughly enjoy that he does.
Hans Christian Andersen, writing in the 1800s, knew that most of his readers would feel a level of disdain for kings whose right to rule was far more arbitrary than we could ever claim today. A king was either born into power or took it by force. Meanwhile, the people plain-old had to fall in line.
Many a real king leisurely sat in his palace “admiring his power” while the people toiled away paying taxes, ready to suit up for war on command. For them, the emperor’s new clothes were nothing but a well-worn reality.
CONCLUSION
Such is often the case today as well. Be it the politics of state or family, church or school, fame or fashion, one needs ever to be on the lookout for falsehood.
And therein is the lesson I like best about The Emperor’s New Clothes. It teaches children to look critically at the world around them. In a sense, it shows them that they have power far greater than that of a king for theirs is the power of critical thinking. With it, they can judge the world around them and rule their own lives with wisdom and virtue.
The Little Match Selleris another bitter-sweet fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen. In fact, the ending is so hard that I have heard some challenge the wisdom of sharing it with children. To each his own, of course, but I think it is a very good story for older children like those I teach in middle school.
Let’s look at the plot and then consider its merits.
PLOT SUMMARY
Exposition – The
Background
While others are making merry and staying warm inside on New
Year’s Eve, a poor little girl must walk barefoot through the freezing cold
streets and try to sell matches in order to bring the earnings home to her
father. He is a terrible man who will certainly beat her if she cannot make any
money.
Inciting Incident –
The Problem
And she doesn’t. The whole day long she fails to sell even a
single match. All the while her feet have turned blue from the cold, making her
unable to continue on.
Rising Action – The
Build-up
Yet, rather than cry, she embraces her fate with a heart full of hope. She strikes one of her matches in a vain attempt to warm herself. There in the light she sees a vision of a nice warm stove. Just as she reaches out her fingers to touch it, the match goes out, and the vision disappears.
The Little Match Girl by Anne Anderson
Eager to bring it back, the little girl lights another
match. This time she sees a beautiful dinner table set with a scrumptious
goose. It looks so good that it dances right off the table toward her but then disappears
when the match goes out.
She quickly lights a third match and beholds a glorious Christmas tree bedazzled with lights from top to bottom. It, too, disappears when the match goes out.
Climax – The Breaking
Point
Just then, the little girl sees a falling star and thinks
someone is dying, little realizing it is herself.
Falling Action – The
Unraveling
In a final act of hope, the little girl lights a fourth match and sees a vision of her dear departed grandmother, who was the only one who ever loved her.
“O take me with you,” the girl cries. “I know you will go
away when the match burns out; you will vanish like the warm stove, the roast
goose, and the large, glorious Christmas tree.”
Resolution – Happily
Ever After
She hopes not in vain. Her grandmother, who truly is a spirit sent from God, escorts her to Heaven where she will enjoy all the things she envisioned and more.
On New Year’s Day, people gather around the little girl’s
dead body and lament her passing, never imagining all the wonderful visions she
saw before she died.
PLOT ANALYSIS
In order to understand the lessons in this story, we have to
begin with the ending. Like the onlookers in the story, readers are naturally
compelled to focus on the sad death of the little match seller, not to mention
the terrible realities of her life.
She was a victim of poverty and abuse and left utterly alone
in the world when her grandmother died. No doubt the onlookers could discern a
great deal of this from her ragged clothes and bare feet. Perhaps she even bore
the wounds of abuse on her frail body. Surely, she was a forsaken child if
there ever was one.
And yet she was somehow full of hope. There was no reason she should expect a wood stove or a dancing goose and certainly not a frivolous Christmas tree. Yet, she dreamed of them nonetheless and most assuredly knew she would get them someday in Heaven. Her life, though we might call it tragic, is nothing short of a miracle in that she overcomes her difficulties with such grace.
MOTIFS
Hans Christian Andersen conveys this message through the interplay
of three sets of oppositional motifs.
Light versus Darkness
His little match seller lives a life in the dark, meaning she has virtually nothing. Yet, she has something better than material goods. She has a light within herself that she brings to the world. To her father and all the onlookers, she is a nothing but a poor match seller. But in truth, she is a light giver.
The final matches she strikes are not bought and paid for. They are freely struck just as her goodness is freely shared with any who would care to bask in it. As each match burns down, the light of her mortal world gives way to the eternal light of Heaven until she is consumed by it.
Warmth versus
Coldness
So, too, does coldness permeate every aspect of her life.
Whether at home or on the streets, the wind is always whipping at her face. She
cannot escape it. Yet, she literally and figuratively brings warmth with her
wherever she goes. Each of her tiny little matches can strike a roaring fire.
Likewise, every hardship she accepts with grace kindles warmth in the world.
When none are left to enjoy that warmth, both that from the
matches and that from her goodness, God calls her home to the eternal warmth
and sunshine of Heaven.
Life versus Death
Ironically, the little girl’s life on earth is more akin to death, whereas her death is the beginning of her true life. While this accords with basic Christian beliefs, it can lead to a misreading of the story.
It is not uncommon to confuse the truth that we are made for eternal life with the falsehood that some people are better off dead. Just because the little match seller’s life was so difficult does not mean that it was somehow not worth living. It most assuredly was, and she gave glory to God by accepting her hardships with such grace. And by doing so, she gained eternal life.
If she had given up, well, we can
guess her death would have turned out differently.
CONCLUSION
The Little Match Seller is not for the faint of heart. It poses many serious questions about the realities of life on earth and life everlasting. If the story makes us cry, so much the better. That means it has kindled something in us.
It seems Hans Christian Andersen was trying to strike his own match and shed light on the beauty waiting to be found in suffering. Maybe that message is too heavy for a small child, but maybe a small child is just innocent enough to bask in its rays. I tend to think it is the adults who cringe.
The Fisherman and His Wife is one of the lesser known tales by the Brothers Grimm, but it is right up there with the best of them. It is has a gripping, imaginative plot that offers many lessons about the dangers of greed. Better still, those lessons are not black and white, so there is ample room for debate. Let’s begin by looking at the plot and then examine two controversial questions my students engage.
PLOT SUMMARY
Exposition – The
Background
A fisherman and his wife pass their days living in a shack
by the sea.
Inciting Incident –
The Problem
The Fisherman and His Wife by Alexander Zick
All of that changes one day when the fisherman catches a
magical, talking fish who had once been a prince. The fisherman at first plans to
cook and eat his catch like any other, but the fish begs him not to. Being of a
generous heart, the fisherman releases the fish.
Rising Action – The
Build-up
His wife, however, reprimands him gravely for letting the
fish off the hook without first
demanding a wish. She insists her husband go back the very next day, find the
fish, and demand a wish in exchange for letting him go. When the fisherman asks
his wife what they should wish for, she quickly responds that she wants a nice
cottage instead of their “filthy” shack.
The husband obeys his wife, goes back to the seashore, calls
out to the fish who readily comes swimming back, and presents his wife’s wish.
The fish, in turn, changes their shack into a nice cottage.
When the fisherman returns home later that day, his wife
seems happy with their new home. Feeling satisfied himself, he says, “This is
quite enough.”
“We will see about that,” the wife retorts.
Thus ensues a daily progression of new wishes, each trading
out one home for another and always increasing the wife’s station in life. She
next contrives to have a palace over which she is lord, then a kingdom over
which she is king, then an empire over which she is emperor, and finally all of
Christendom over which she is pope.
The fisherman begs his wife not to keep demanding more wishes
but fears her too much to refuse her bidding. Like an errand boy, he goes back
day after day and fishes for wishes on
her behalf. Though the fish keeps granting them in turn, the water and clouds
turn ever more murky and grey.
Climax – The Point of
No Return
Still not satisfied, the wife racks her brains all night
long trying to think of what could be better than being pope. When the first
rays of light streak across her bedroom, she asks, “Could not I cause the
sun and the moon to rise?”
Falling Action – The
Unraveling
The fisherman fears his wife more than ever as he realizes
she wants to be like God. Amidst thunder and lightning, the man obediently runs
away from her like a madman, calls out to the fish, and presents his wife’s newest
wish.
Anti-resolution – Not
So Happily Ever After
Upon hearing it, the fish simply replies, “Go home. She is
sitting in her filthy shack again.” And just like that, the fisherman and
his wife lose everything they had gotten from the fish.
PLOT ANALYSIS
When reading this story with my students, it is always
interesting to see how intently they follow the plot. Their inquisitive eyes
and furrowed brows race through the storyline, eager to find out what will
become of the fisherman and his wife.
With the first wish, it is not at all obvious what is going
to happen. It even seems like a good thing that they get to upgrade their
“filthy” shack to a nice cottage. As the wishes become greedier and the sky
turns darker, however, the students soon realize things have not gotten better
for the fisherman and his wife but much, much worse.
The First Wish
During our discussions, students unanimously condemn the
fisherman’s and his wife’s greed. Many say familiar expressions like, they
should have “quit while they were ahead.” Or, they should have been “careful
what you wished for.” Indeed, there are dozens of similar adages that can be
readily applied.
It gets a lot more complicated, however, when we discuss
whether or not the fisherman and his wife should have wished for anything at
all. Some inevitably think it was okay that they tried to improve their station
in life. The problem, in their opinion, was that the fisherman and his wife
went overboard.
Others argue that even one wish was too much because it set
them on an insatiable path. Both viewpoints are certainly valid, so the object
of debating the prudence of making the first wish is not to come up with the
“right” answer. Rather, the goal is to have students think deeply about the
nature of greed.
The Final Wish
We also have a rich discussion about the final wish.
Specifically, I ask my students whether or not the fisherman and his wife got
what they wished for. Did the wife get to become like God?
Of course, the literal answer is no. Indeed, they lost
everything they had previously gained.
With a little prodding, though, they begin to come up with figurative interpretations that are extremely insightful. Some say they become slaves to their newfound wealth, distancing themselves further and further from God. As such, they end up losing any semblance of likeness they ever had to Him.
Others suggest that since the fisherman and his wife are humbled in the end, they have a newfound
chance of being like God, who has perfect humility alongside absolute power.
Still others argue that the wife does get her final wish
because she has power over her husband. In their little world, filthy as it is
with the vice of greed, she has absolute power. She didn’t need an empire or a kingdom
to “rule” over her husband, so she got her original shack back. Though hers is
a corrupt kind of power, it is precisely the kind she foolishly sought.
CONCLUSION
The Fisherman and His Wife offers many real-life lessons about greed, albeit with plenty of grey area. While my students never agree on “how much is enough,” they certainly agree that too much is a bad thing. Likewise, they realize that fortunes can easily be turned into misfortunes. That is not to say wealth is bad, per se, but that it comes with a price.
Magical. Mysterious. Heartbreaking. Perplexing. It’s hard to come up with just the right adjective to describe The Mermaidby Hans Christian Andersen. His storyline does not fit squarely into the fairy tale world that rewards virtue (think Cinderella) nor does it fall neatly into the anti-fairy tale world that punishes vice (think Godfather Death). It’s a little of both, kind of like real life, and that makes it surprisingly uncomfortable in a child’s story.
Nevertheless, I include it in my line-up of fairy tales because that discomfort makes it a powerful teaching tool. Let’s take a look at the plot and then try to understand the lessons Hans Christian Andersen was trying to get across. There is tremendous wisdom there for parents and children alike.
PLOT SUMMARY
Exposition – The
Background
Though no humans have ever seen it, a great kingdom exists deep under the sea. It is ruled by the sea king who lives with his mother and six charming mermaid daughters. Like all mermaids, they are created to live 300 years, upon the expiration of which they will turn into seafoam.
The daughters have a strong fascination with the human world
above but are not permitted to go there until their fifteenth birthday. In the
meantime, they content themselves with their grandmother’s stories about humans
and collect various artifacts from shipwrecks and the like. One by one, each
sister has her turn to go to the surface until it comes to the youngest, called
simply “the little mermaid.”
Inciting Incident –
The Problem
The little mermaid spends her first night above the surface of the ocean watching a party aboard a great ship. As it turns out, the crew was celebrating the sixteenth birthday of a handsome prince. A storm sweeps in, lightning strikes, and the ship begins to go under.
The little mermaid, who was watching the prince most intently, sees that he has been knocked unconscious. She at first plans to take him home to her collection but then realizes he would die under water. She instead swims him to shore and leaves him on the beach.
Rising Action – The
Build-up
From that day forward, the little mermaid falls into a
downcast state. She thinks of the prince all the time and hopes in vain to see
him again. As her grandmother explains, mermaids are not made for the human
world. Not only do they lack legs, but they also do not have souls. Not willing
to give up her dream of being with the prince, she eventually goes to the sea
witch and begs her help.
Climax – The Point of
No Return
The sea witch agrees to change the little mermaid’s tail
into legs so she can join the human world. In exchange the little mermaid must
give up her voice, which is her most alluring asset and the essence of who she
is. Though her legs will be beautiful on the outside, they will cause her great
pain. With each step, she will feel as though she is walking on knives.
Additionally, the little mermaid must win the love of the
prince to stay a human. If he marries another, she will die and instantly turn
into seafoam, forfeiting the 300 years she otherwise would have had. Even knowing all this, the little mermaid
accepts the bargain, drinks a magical potion, and gets legs.
Falling Action – The
Unraveling
On land, the little mermaid soon meets the prince. He is taken with her and eventually confesses that he loves her better than anyone else, but he nonetheless pines after the elusive woman who had previously saved him from the shipwreck. All the while, the prince has no idea that the little mermaid is indeed she. Without her voice, the she is unable to tell him who she really is.
The prince’s father arranges for him to be married to a princess from a nearby kingdom. The prince reluctantly agrees to meet the princess and ends up believing her the woman who saved him. (Unlike in the Disney version, the princess does not try to deceive the prince, he simply believes it of his own will. She’s the one, so to speak.)
The two are married at once in a grand ceremony at sea with the little mermaid in attendance.
Resolution – Almost Happily Ever After
The Little Mermaid’s Sisters by Anne Anderson
The poor little mermaid is miserable during the ceremony and reception, for she knows that she will die upon the following morn. In the final moments before the sunrise, her mermaid sisters rise to the surface and try to help her. They present her with a magical dagger they got from the sea witch and beg her to kill the prince. If she does so, she will get her mermaid life back.
The little mermaid nearly kills him but thinks better of it. No sooner does the sun come up, then she dies according to the terms of her agreement with the sea witch.
Unexpectedly, however, the little mermaid finds herself in the presence of beings called “daughters of the air.” In her new state, she will have 300 years to win a soul by doing unseen good in the human world. Though in the end she does not get to live happily ever with the prince, she will get to live eternally in heaven.
PLOT ANALYSIS
Few of my students ever like the ending of The Mermaid though they mostly see the justice of it. The reason the little mermaid does not get to live happily ever after with the prince is because she was not created for that purpose. She was made to be a mermaid, not a human. What’s more, she clearly compromises herself when she bargains with the sea witch, so the human life she assumes is false.
But if she does not deserve to get the prince, then why does she get to win a soul? After all, mermaids are supposed to live their mortal lives for 300 years and then turn into seafoam—no soul, no heaven, nothing. And yet she gets something better than her mermaid family when she rises up with the daughters of the air upon her death.
In order to answer that question, we need to first examine
the world of the story.
Ocean, Earth, Sky,
Heaven
Hans Christian Andersen builds a natural hierarchy into his setting that begins with the ocean on the bottom, moves up to the earth, then onto the sky, and concludes with heaven.
The mermaids of the ocean are akin to animals in that they
have bodies but do not have souls. As such, they are lower than their earthly
counterparts, the humans, who have bodies and
souls. The daughters of the air are kind of in limbo. They have neither body nor
soul but the promise of both. Finally, heaven is the highest place, and it can
only be reached with a soul.
The “Voice” of the
Soul
Though the mermaids do not have souls, they do have beautiful
voices. In fact, their voices are their essence.
That means that when the little mermaid bargains with the sea witch and sells
her voice, it is kind of like she is selling her soul to the devil.
So intent is she on marrying the prince that she is willing to compromise herself beyond recognition. One drink of the sea witch’s potion and her mermaid tail turns into legs. She likes that trade, despite the physical pain it entails, because it makes her more attractive to the prince. But she also loses her voice, which makes her less attractive. Not only is she unable to win his love through her songs, but she cannot even tell him who she is.
Literally, her identity is gone; figuratively, her true self,
her very essence, is lost.
My students generally have mixed feelings about the little mermaid’s deal with the sea witch. Many are inclined to see it as a rather innocent or even commendable action because she is “following her heart.” The problem with that interpretation, however, is that it forgets that the little mermaid does not have a human heart to follow. She is less than a human, so to speak. Thus, her heart is not guiding her in a virtuous sense but in more of an instinctual, covetous sense.
To Be Human
Luckily, the little mermaid finds her true self in the final
moments of her life when she is given the chance to kill the prince in order to
save herself. As we know, she chooses to let herself die rather than kill him. This
act is the first selfless one she has performed.
To review, everything in her life up to that point was designed for her sake. She wants to marry the prince because she wants himand the immortal soul marriage could give her. Of course she saves his life on the shipwreck, but she does so to add him to her collection. Hence, even that service is rendered thinking first of herself.
In contrast, she saves the prince’s life in the end, full-knowing she will lose her own. Her sisters, well-intentioned as they are, behave like mermaids when they give her the knife. “Look out for yourself,” they remind her in short. Theirs is a survival instinct. Yet, the little mermaid has overcome that instinct in herself. She has become like a human in that she finally knows the meaning of love. She knows that true love, agape, is about sacrifice.
In that final act of sacrificial love, she wins a place among the daughters of the sky. She likewise gets her voice back and wins the promise of a soul.
CONCLUSION
Even if you are extremely faithful, this ending is a hard one, especially for a child. Hans Christian Andersen knew that to be the case, yet he wrote it anyways. Simply put, he wanted to teach children to consider the full weight of their actions. His message, though grave, is not meant to scare.
We can tell this by looking at his narrative voice. Hans Christian Andersen is what I call a parent narrator. His voice is wise and discerning, gentle and reassuring as he tells what turns out to be a very sad story. As readers, we know he cares for his little mermaid much as the sea king does. He does not want the little mermaid to trade her voice to the sea witch for a false promise of happily ever after, nor does he want any of his readers to make similarly fatal mistakes.
Yet he does not scold or rebuke the little mermaid. He knows such headstrong desires are a part of life. Like a good parent, he trusts his little mermaid will figure out her mistakes and expects her to make amends for them, even if it takes 300 years.
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.”
Her French patriots, like Christine de Pizan, celebrated Joan as a heroine sent by God. Meanwhile, Joan’s English enemies, including William Shakespeare, set about demonizing her. Though centuries have passed, modern characterizations of Joan are no less disparate. Few today are outright hostile, but many are quick to write Joan off as a lunatic or an impostor.
What is clear, is that Joan of Arc continues to capture the imagination of generations of people. Her story, though set in the Middle Ages, tugs at the heartstrings of society and plays on the moral conscience of Christians and non-Christians alike.
In order to draw my students deeper into an investigation of Joan’s life, we take a look at a handful of contending views.
A Glowing Contemporaneous View
Christine de Pizan’s poem The Song of Joan of Arc, written in 1429 while Joan was in the height of defeating the English in battle, offers a glowing view of her. As a fellow country(wo)man, it is no wonder de Pizan embraces Joan’s image as the Maid of Heaven. Totaling 61 stanzas in all, it offers seemingly endless praise of Joan while following a chronology of her life in the public eye.
A Hostile Contemporaneous View
William Shakespeare’s Henry VI: Part I (1591) presents a very interesting albeit factually inaccurate characterization of Joan. It represents a view of her from the English side, little over a century after her death. Naturally, the English preferred to think of Joan as a religious fraud; otherwise, it would seem that God was their enemy in the Hundred Years War.
Shakespeare’s depiction of Joan fits this viewpoint, calling her a “witch” and even a “whore” at different points in the play. When Joan first arises on the scene, she is a dynamic figure, full of strength and charisma at the head of the French military. As the play progresses to her trial, Joan falters to such an extent that she uses the pretext of being pregnant as a last resort to save her from being put to death.
Shakespeare presents this highly falsified image to discredit Joan’s persona as the “Virgin Maid.” By the end of the play, he has completely stripped Joan of her dignity and justified her condemnation and death.
An Inspiring Modern View
Sierra Pictures’ movie Joan of Arc (1949), starring Ingrid Bergman, offers another favorable view of Joan. It begins with her accepting a divine calling from God to save the French from the cruel hands of the English, then shows her triumphal leadership in battle, and concludes with her unjust condemnation and cruel death at the fiery stake. There is no question this film depicts Joan as a saint truly called by God.
A Neutral Modern View
Alliance Film’s movie Joan of Arc (1999) is the most modern view of Joan that I look at with students. While it shows her religious devotion, it stops short of presenting her as a saint. Instead, it hedges between characterizing her as a selfless servant of God on the one hand versus a prideful religious fanatic on the other.
The movie follows the typical order, beginning with Joan’s religious calling back in her hometown of Domremy, transitioning into her military command, and concluding with her trial and condemnation. It is a well done movie that provokes many questions not only about who Joan really was but also about modern society’s growing secularization.
Take Away for Students
Just as there is no consensus in the world about who Joan of Arc really was, there never ends up being a consensus in my classroom. That is not because they don’t generally all agree she was saint. Rather, their disagreement has more to do with subtle nuances related to her personality and character.
Was she always gentle-natured? Or did she have a temper? Was she a model of humility? Or did her ego flare up from time to time?
Much less concerned do they end up being about the precise words she uttered when, say, she raised the siege of Orleans or spoke to the Dauphin at his coronation. These details, they realize, are distant background in the picture of what makes Joan a saint.
In the next post, I am going to describe a number of reading, writing, and rhetorical exercises I do with the class that help them wrestle with the many questions that arise in the course of our study.
Samuel Langhorne Clemens, hereafter Mark Twain, tells a captivating, historically accurate version of Joan of Arc’s life in his Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc. As a storyteller first and historian second, he plays with fact and fiction in all sorts of ways to entertain the reader and guide him through an investigation into the Truth of Joan’s life, something my class calls construction of memoir.
He does this
primarily through his narrator, Sieur Louis de Conte, and two other characters.
Each represent distinct historical renderings who Joan was.
Sieur Louis de Conte – Sincere Historian
The fictitious character of Sieur Louis de Conte is Joan’s lifelong friend and confidante. His unique relationship with Joan allows him to narrate the story from the perspective of an eyewitness. For example, Twain places Sieur Louis off in the shadows during one of Joan’s heavenly visions. He appoints Sieur Louis to the position of page and secretary when Joan assumes military command of the French army. Finally, he even gives Sieur Louis a front row seat as a scribe during her trial and condemnation in an ecclesiastical court controlled by the English.
His presence
at these key periods makes him the perfect person to describe the “real” Joan.
Indeed, Sieur Louis’s narration continually reminds the reader that hewasthere to see things with his own
eyes. He even goes so far as to swear under oath that he is truthfully
testifying to Joan’s life justasitwas.
Behind this feigned presence, however, Twain masterfully tells another story, a story about the construction of memoir in all its possibilities and limitations. He offers subtle clues throughout the text that he believes Joan was really called by God. Yet, he continually admonishes the reader to make their own determination and to be skeptical of even first-hand accounts such as Sieur Louis’s. In fact, Twain cleverly warns the reader there is more to Sieur Louis than what meets the eye. Not only is he Joan’s confidante, but he is also Twain’s alter-ego.
It is no coincidence that Twain’s real name, Samuel Langhorne Clemens, carries the same initials as Sieur Louis de Conte. Nor is it accidental that “conte” means “story” in French, thereby symbolizing Twain’s ultimate hand in the writing of Joan’s memoir. In this way, Twain readily acknowledges the inevitable insertion of the author into the construction of memoir, something most memoirs often ignore in an attempt to sound objective even when they could not possibly be so.
Twain’s
voice through the character of Sieur Louis seems to whisper between the lines,
“Believe in Joan’s spiritual calling because you have sincerely questioned it,
not because you believe my sincerity in describing it.”
Edmond Aubrey, “The Paladin” – Misguided Historian
Edmond
Aubrey, whom Twain ironically nicknames “The Paladin,” is also a fictitious
character. He, too, knew Joan during her childhood and joined her military
campaign, eventually becoming her standard bearer.
Aubrey delights in his nickname because it likens him to one of Charlemagne’s legendary knights. Thanks to his large ego, however, he is unable to see his sublime inferiority to them. Back in Domremy, he boasts to Joan and others of wanting to join the French war effort but must later be forcibly dragged off to do so. Once enlisted, he tells stories of his fearless magnificence in battle when, in reality, he continually seeks retreat. He even tells of being present at major events in Joan’s life, such as her first audience with King Charles, simply to give himself greater status.
Like Sieur Louis, the Paladin weaves his story into that of Joan’s. Unlike Sieur Louis, though, the Paladin wants some of her glory and unabashedly lies to attain it. His distortions, however, are given playfully and without the intent of wounding Joan’s image. For him, lying is a type of innocent compulsion. He simply cares more for himself than her—at least at first.
The Paladin
eventually undergoes a dramatic character transformation because of Joan. She
tells him, “Of old you were a fantastic talker, but there is a man in you, and
I will bring it out” (97). At last, he gains the courage he so long talked of
and even dies in battle trying to protect Joan.
The Paladin is much like any of Joan’s historians who rejected her religious calling at first. Their conversion requires sincere, personal reflection alongside serious historical analysis. Like the Paladin, those historians were simply misguided at first and unable to place their faith in anyone or anything but themselves.
Pierre Cauchon – False Historian
Pierre Cauchon, Bishop of Beauvais, stands alone in Twain’s three representations of historians in that he is the only one who really existed. His corrupt leadership role in Joan’s trial of condemnation is well-documented as is his designation as a heretic in her posthumous trial of rehabilitation some twenty years later.
Cauchon’s
singular goal was to find Joan guilty of heresy. He spent day after day of her
five-month-long trial twisting her words, fabricating information, and altering
court proceedings to suit his designs.
Twain
clearly disrespected Cauchon and the false construction of Joan he
proliferated. Through the voice of Sieur Louis, Twain calls him various
insulting epithets such as “pig” and “bastard of Satan” (284, 224). He even condemns Cauchon to Hell countless
times.
There is little doubt Twain was disgusted by hypocritical men like Cauchon who feigned to represent Truth. Instead, Cauchon served his own self-interest and unremorsefully sentenced an innocent girl to death. Through Personal Recollections, Twain reminds the reader that even though men like Cauchon will always exist, men like Sieur Louis and the Paladin will nonetheless rise up to challenge them as well.
We’ll look at some of the types of historical constructions Twain was symbolically referencing in the next post.
Joan of Arc’s story has been told and retold a seemingly endless number of times. Since the dramatic highlights differ in each telling and even the facts of her life tend to vary, it is hard to single out one story above the rest, that is—until you read Mark Twain’s Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc. In order to understand what makes his version so special, we have to start with background on his interest in Joan’s life.
Mark and Joan — Unlikely “Friends”
Samuel Langhorne Clemens, more commonly known as Mark Twain, developed an interest in Joan of Arc by what he would have us think was a type of divine intervention. In 1849, during his early days working as a printer in Hannibal, Missouri, he claims to have grabbed a sheet of paper blowing in the wind while he was walking about the streets one day.
His curiosity piqued as he began reading about a French country maiden unjustly imprisoned in Rouen. The page, as it turned out, was from a history of Joan of Arc, someone whom Clemens alleges he previously had never heard of. Thus began his lifelong interest in learning as much about Joan’s history as possible. His biographer, Albert Bigelow Paine, refers to this episode as a “turning point” in Clemens’s life after which he gained an ever increasing appetite to learn about History.
Portrait of Mark Twain by Mathew Brady, February 1871
Clemens dedicated twelve years of research plus two years of writing to Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc, though this did not ensue until much later in his career after he had already made a name for himself publishing such works as Huckleberry Finn. By that point, he was world-renowned for his unique “brand” of writing, and his general dislike of religious organizations—despite having been raised a Presbyterian—was well-known.
His decision to publish a historical biography on a Catholic saint would defy expectations and possibly hinder the success of his work. Recognizing this and fearful his work would not be reviewed on its own merits, he initially published the work as a year-long serial in Harper’s Magazine under the alias of “Sieur Louis de Conte.” This nom de plume, however, fooled very few, and Clemens’s concerns played out just as he had worried.
Reviews were harsh. The Boston Literary World criticized Twain for using modern, American idioms in a story set in fifteenth century France. Similarly, the Brooklyn Eagle said Joan’s characterization was that of “a nice little American girl of the mid-nineteenth century.” The New York Bachelor of Arts took its criticism a step further, saying Clemens turned “into a prosy, goody-goody writer of Sunday-school tales in his old age.” The criticisms got more personal from there, with one reviewer lamenting, “Mark Twain as a historical novelist is not at his best.”
Clemens was sorely disappointed. He had hoped readers would glean a better, more accurate understanding of the historical icon whom he had come to revere. Instead, he had become the focus.
Nevertheless, Clemens felt Personal Recollectionswas the best of his works. It seems his feelings are shared by the masses who have purchased and read his work in the hundred-and-some-odd years since its initial publication. Such is often the case with classics. Time is the only real critic that matters in the end.
Conclusion
So why did Clemens dedicate so much time to learning about Joan of Arc and risk his career in the telling of her life? Of course the reasons are many, so we need only state the obvious. He not only liked her but also believed in her story at some level. What’s more, he felt it important to share Joan’s story with the world.
Although his critics saw Personal Recollectionsas a departure from his other works like Huckleberry Finn, I beg to differ. Joan, albeit a saint in her afterlife, was a firestorm in life much like Huck. Both defied social conventions and suffered great injustices for the sake of others. Moreover, just as Huck unwittingly fought against the tyranny of slavery, Joan unwittingly fought against the tyranny of a corrupted Church and State alliance.
In both works, Clemens tugs at the moral conscience of society. He challenges his readers to question the world they live in and make their own judgements about right and wrong, good and evil, justice and injustice, truth and falsehood. And that is precisely why Personal Recollectionsis such a powerful story for students and why it works for so well as the foundation for an investigation into Joan’s life.
We’ll take a closer look Clemens’s perspective, given through the eyes of his narrator Sieur Louis de Conte in the next post.
