The Fairy Tale

Instead of historical speeches, this week we are looking at variations of fairy tales.

Most of you probably grew up hearing or seeing fairy tales in some form. In today’s world, many of these are Disneyfied versions of stories and story types that have probably always been circulating in societies. (If you are interested, you can check out “Fairy Tales Might Be Older Than You Ever Imagined.”

One of the most common fairy tale type stories is that of Little Red Riding Hood. On the next few pages, we will explore this story a bit more.

To start, what do you remember?

Are you surprised by the answers?

Read

This is one of the earliest written versions, published in France in 1697 by Charles Perrault as part of his Histoires ou contes du temps passé, avec des moralités: Contes de ma mère l’Oye under the title “Le Petit Chaperon Rouge” or “The Little Red Cap.” This translation is from The Fairy Tales of Charles Perrault, with illustrations from Henry Clarke and an introduction by Thomas Bodkin.

Once upon a time there lived in a certain village a little country girl, the prettiest creature who was ever seen. Her mother was excessively fond of her; and her grandmother doted on her still more. This good woman had a little red riding hood made for her. It suited the girl so extremely well that everybody called her Little Red Riding Hood.

One day her mother, having made some cakes, said to her, “Go, my dear, and see how your grandmother is doing, for I hear she has been very ill. Take her a cake, and this little pot of butter.”

Little Red Riding Hood set out immediately to go to her grandmother, who lived in another village.

As she was going through the wood, she met with a wolf, who had a very great mind to eat her up, but he dared not, because of some woodcutters working nearby in the forest. He asked her where she was going. The poor child, who did not know that it was dangerous to stay and talk to a wolf, said to him, “I am going to see my grandmother and carry her a cake and a little pot of butter from my mother.”

“Who’s there?”

“Your grandchild, Little Red Riding Hood,” replied the wolf, counterfeiting her voice; “who has brought you a cake and a little pot of butter sent you by mother.”

The good grandmother, who was in bed, because she was somewhat ill, cried out, “Pull the bobbin, and the latch will go up.”

The wolf pulled the bobbin, and the door opened, and then he immediately fell upon the good woman and ate her up in a moment, for it been more than three days since he had eaten. He then shut the door and got into the grandmother’s bed, expecting Little Red Riding Hood, who came some time afterwards and knocked at the door: tap, tap.

“Who’s there?”

Little Red Riding Hood, hearing the big voice of the wolf, was at first afraid; but believing her grandmother had a cold and was hoarse, answered, “It is your grandchild Little Red Riding Hood, who has brought you a cake and a little pot of butter mother sends you.”

The wolf cried out to her, softening his voice as much as he could, “Pull the bobbin, and the latch will go up.”

Little Red Riding Hood pulled the bobbin, and the door opened.

The wolf, seeing her come in, said to her, hiding himself under the bedclothes, “Put the cake and the little pot of butter upon the stool, and come get into bed with me.”

Little Red Riding Hood took off her clothes and got into bed. She was greatly amazed to see how her grandmother looked in her nightclothes, and said to her, “Grandmother, what big arms you have!”

“All the better to hug you with, my dear.”

“Grandmother, what big legs you have!”

“All the better to run with, my child.”

“Grandmother, what big ears you have!”

“All the better to hear with, my child.”

“Grandmother, what big eyes you have!”

“All the better to see with, my child.”

“Grandmother, what big teeth you have got!”

“All the better to eat you up with.”

And, saying these words, this wicked wolf fell upon Little Red Riding Hood, and ate her all up.

The Moral

From this short story easy we discern 
What conduct all young people ought to learn. 
But above all, young, growing misses fair, 
Whose orient rosy blooms begin t'appear: 
Who, beauties in the fragrant spring of age, 
With pretty airs young hearts are apt t'engage. 
Ill do they listen to all sorts of tongues, 
Since some inchant and lure like Syrens' songs. 
No wonder therefore 'tis, if over-power'd, 
So many of them has the Wolf devour'd. 
The Wolf, I say, for Wolves too sure there are 
Of every sort, and every character. 
Some of them mild and gentle-humour'd be, 
Of noise and gall, and rancour wholly free; 
Who tame, familiar, full of complaisance 
Ogle and leer, languish, cajole and glance; 
With luring tongues, and language wond'rous sweet, 
Follow young ladies as they walk the street, 
Ev'n to their very houses, nay, bedside, 
And, artful, tho' their true designs they hide; 
Yet ah! these simpering Wolves! 
Who does not see 
Most dangerous of Wolves indeed they be?

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Based on this version of the story, published with the attached moral, we can see what the intended message of this fairy tale was and for what audience it was directed: Young women of a certain kind of upbringing.

This is likely not the version you most remember. On the next page, you’ll look at a few others and how the teller uses this story to different ends.