Of course you’ve heard of the Brothers Grimm (Rapunzel). Of course you have, because they made sure of it, as did Charles Perrault (Cinderella).
I bet you haven’t heard of Marie-Catherine D’Aulnoy, though. Or Henriette-Julie Murat or Charlotte-Rose La Force, or any one of the other French conteuses who lived and wrote immensely popular contes de fée (fairy tales) in French salons in the mid- to late 1600s. (They in fact invented the name, conte de fée, French for fairy tale.) Seven of them are profiled here by Jane Harrington and include new translations of their stories. You want to know what Rapunzel’s real name was? Here you go.
In the introduction to her book on these should-be legendary writers (titled “NOT a Fairy Tale”), Harrington writes
The ruler of France at the time was the boy king Louis XIV, whose regime considered the salons hotbeds of radical thought that spurred agitation among the populace. And, well, they were. And did.
And they knew it, and they wrote deliberately to confound the royal censor.
…a story with fairies in it?…He probably won’t get past the first page.
Turns out Charles Perrault was
a regular visitor to the conteuses’ salons and a participant in their fairy tale games.
The Brothers Grimm?
…were scholars, so they would have been steeped in the history of the fairy tale. Which makes their disregard of the conteuses’ once wildly popular tales a pretty clearly purposeful act.
In the conteuses’ telling, there is none of the brutality deemed acceptable by the Brothers Grimm in their tales for children, and in the contes de fée the women heroes were never limp in the hands of fate.
These fairy tale princesses didn’t sleep through the action; they were the action.* The conteuses would not have it any other way.
Harrington’s prose is lively and contemporary in her biographies
That Marie-Catherine was a spunky kid with a passion for literature is more than apparent from scribblings she left behind in the margins of one of her favorite plays.
which style makes her translations of their fairy tales a welcoming and often hilarious read.
“You make a powerful point,” the queen dowager said.
“And you might consider making a powerful apology,” the fairy said.
(Belle-Belle, Marie-Catherine D’Aulnoy)
This place was called Peaceful Island. The fairy Anguillette had conferred upon it, for two thousand years, the power of recovery from unfortunate attachments. (Some assert that it still possesses this power, but the difficulty is in finding the island.).
(“Anguillette,” Henriette-Julie Murat)
“What if there is an evil king, and he does have an evil son, and he’s taken them off to his evil court?”
The partridge, bathing in the garden’s birdbath, muttered, “Honestly,” then gave itself a good shake and pointed a wing to the wood…
(“Dunamis,” Charlotte-Rose La Force)
“They’re the ones who fall irretrievably in love because of a potion, right?
“Yes, but that’s not part of this story,” Blanche said. Then she added with a side-eye, “I hope you’re not getting ideas.”
(“Blanche,” Marie-Jeanne L’Hêritier)
In case there was any doubt, these tales are not your Disney fairy tales. No, they’re better.
Also? Voltaire was a plagiarist. Just so you know.
Great illustrations, too. Highly recommended.
*Go thou immediately and find a copy of Margaret Atwood’s short story “Unpopular Gals.”
Publishes in August (I was lucky enough to score an ARC). Preorder your print edition here and your e edition here.
Book Review Monday Chatter Jane Harrington Khoa Le Women of the Fairy Tale Resistance