Fiction Friday: Forgetfulness in Fairy Tales

I have a great love for fairy tales, whether they’re modified Disney movies or old Hans Christian Anderson classics. Recently, I was watching the Leslie Ann Warren version of “Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella,” mainly because I love the music, and I was struck by one of the themes to which I’ve never paid proper attention.

Cinderella’s Fairy Godmother had warned Cinderella that she had to leave the ball before midnight, and Cinderella firmly promised that she would remember. Yet, as she gazed into her prince’s eyes, she became distracted and forgot the promise that she had so insistently made. Only when the clock started to chime did she remember, and she almost didn’t make it out of the castle before her dress turned back into rags.

I let my mind drift a little, and immediately thought of the original story of “Beauty and the Beast,” in which the Beast, when allowing Beauty to return home, told her that if she did not return within a certain span of time, he would most certainly die. Beauty assuredly promised him that she would return within that span of time, and yet she allowed herself to be distracted by her family. She forgot the promise she had made until it was almost too late. The Beast was almost dead when she reached his side and proclaimed her love for him, breaking the spell.

The dwarves warned Snow White not to open the door of the cottage to strangers. She promised she would not open the door to strangers. Yet upon three separate occasions (according to the original fairy tale), she allowed herself to be tricked by her disguised evil stepmother, and opened the door to a stranger. She forgot her promise and almost died—three times!  I'm not sure if that's foolishness, arrogance, or both!

In "Rumpelstiltskin," the young girl promised her first born child to the dwarf, but in her happiness over her newborn child, she forgot her promise until Rumpelstiltskin came to collect.
In "The Frog Prince," the princess conveniently (purposefully) “forgot” her promise to the frog who had rescued her golden ball. She didn’t want to allow him to eat off her plate or sleep in her bed. Only when the king heard of her promise did he enforce it, reminding her of the importance of remembering one’s promises.

There are other examples, but most fairy tales are too obscure for those who don’t make a point of reading them. I find it interesting both that many fairy tales deal with this theme of forgetfulness, and that I haven’t really ever consciously noticed it before.

I think the reason that I’m more aware of it now has to do with the fact that I’ve been reading through the first few books of the Bible. I’ve just completed my readings of Numbers and Deuteronomy, and I’ve begun reading the book of Joshua. Throughout these books are little reminders—both of God’s promises to Israel, and of Israel’s commitments to Him. It’s interesting how many times the Lord reminded His people of the covenant He had made with them. It’s interesting how readily Israel accepted the covenant, promising to follow all of God’s commandments. It’s interesting how quickly Israel forgot their promise.

I see examples of many different kinds of forgetfulness in Scripture. The people of Israel forgot their promise to follow God because they were distracted, because they were arrogant, because they were foolish, because they were fearful, but mainly because they were just plain sinful.

None of this surprised God. He knows humans are forgetful. That, I believe, is why He gave so many reminders. That’s why He recommended His people take special care to remember. He knew how easy it was for sinful man to forget.

"These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts.  Impress them on your children.  Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates." --Deuteronomy 6: 6-9

“Fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds; tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Teach them to your children, talking about them when you sit and home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Write them on the door frames of your houses and on your gates, so that your days and the days of your children may be many in the land that the Lord swore to give your forefathers, as many as the days that the heavens are above the earth.” --Deuteronomy 11: 18-21

In The Silver Chair, by C. S. Lewis, which I consider to be a modern fairy tale, Aslan gives Jill Pole four signs to remember (in order to aid her in finding the lost Prince Rilian).  He tells her, “…Remember, remember, remember the signs. Say them to yourself when you wake in the morning and when you lie down at night, and when you wake in the middle of the night. And whatever strange things may happen to you, let nothing turn your mind from following the signs.”

Aslan knew Jill would forget the signs.

The story still had a happy ending. Prince Rilian is found, regardless of Jill’s forgetfulness.

Just as “Cinderella” marries her prince, regardless of her distracted forgetfulness.

Just as Beauty returns to her Beast just in time to love him back into a prince, regardless of her world-weary forgetfulness.

Just as “Snow White” awakens from her death-sleep to find her Prince Charming, regardless of her foolish/arrogant/etc. forgetfulness.

Just as the young woman in “Rumpelstiltskin” names the dwarf and keeps her baby, regardless of her blissfully ignorant forgetfulness.

Just as the princess in “The Frog Prince” transforms the ugly frog into a handsome prince, regardless of her intentional forgetfulness.

The true hero in The Silver Chair, and indeed in all of the Narnia stories, is not Jill Pole or any other human character. The hero is always Aslan. Aslan knew that if Jill had remembered the signs, things would have gone much more easily for her and all involved. But He also knew that she would forget the signs, yet He still worked all things together for good.  Even though Jill forgot, He was still the one in control of the story.

And that’s true for Israel’s story, which, because I've been grafted into Israel, is also my story. I, like the Israelites, am forgetful. I make promises quickly, and forget them even more quickly.  I know, and God knows, that if I were diligent to remember, if I fixed His truth on my mind and heart, if I reminded myself of His truth when I went to bed and when I woke up, if I reminded myself of His truth when I went about my daily life, then things would be much easier for me...and often much more pleasant for the people I encounter.  But I am not the hero of my own life story.  And God knows that there are going to be times, many times, when I forget.

Fairy tales are meant to teach morals, and many fairy tales have more than one moral. Certainly the value of keeping promises can be found in “The Frog Prince” and in “Beauty and the Beast,” as well as the reminder to not judge by appearances. “Cinderella” and “Snow White” are examples of how being kind to others, especially in times of suffering and humility, leads to happiness. I'm not sure, but I think that the moral of “Rumpelstiltskin” is “don’t tell the king that your daughter can spin straw into gold unless she really can,” or perhaps, “don’t promise your first born child to a dwarf unless you’re on a first-name basis,” or perhaps, "don't provide offspring for a greedy king who only loves you because he thinks you can spin straw into gold."  That one's a little ambiguous, I guess.

In all of these stories, however, I don’t really see the main characters as the heroes. There is always another force at work, be it a royal servant who hears Rumpelstiltskin singing his own name (for whatever reason—having a name like Rumpelstiltskin probably made him a little loony) in the forest, a Fairy Godmother, or just plain magic. The characters don’t guide their own destinies, which is a very good thing.

If "Cinderella" were in control, she would never have gone to the ball.

If Beauty were in control, she would have returned to the castle to find nothing more than a dead Beast.

If "Snow White" were in control, her stepmother would have probably succeeded in killing her on the first try.

If the young woman in “Rumpelstiltskin” were in control, that dwarf would have won the custody battle.

If the princess in “Frog Prince” were in control, she would have remained a spoiled, selfish, promise-breaking child who never grew up.  Which, by the way, would pretty much be my destiny, too.

But I’m not in control of my own story.

Though I’m forgetful and faithless, my God is faithful. Even though I make my life so much harder than it has to be with my forgetfulness, God is still working things out for good.  I'm grateful that He's in control of my story...of HIS story.

And I’m grateful for these great truths found in the simplest of tales. Fairy tales were told and passed down and written partly to be reminders.

I, for one, can use all the reminders I can get.

Fiction Friday: My THIRD Favorite Character of All Time Ever

I love me some Narnia.  Seriously, every single time I go into my closet, I look behind the shirts to see if there's a doorway to a secret world.  Every.  Single.  Time.

And I'm too old to be doing that, but I can't help it.

My third favorite fictional character of all time ever is from the Narnia series, but this character is NOT my favorite character from the Narnia series.  My favorite character from the Narnia series is Aslan, and I don't consider Him to be fictional.  Do I expect to go to heaven one day and bury my face into Aslan's mane?  Not exactly, but it gives me a nice image to keep in mind.  I like the image of Aslan a lot better than some of the other images I've seen/imagined of Jesus/God.  I wish I were beyond needing such images, but I'm not.  I'm pretty sure most people aren't beyond the need for images.

And C. S. Lewis was pretty much amazing with imagery. 

So since I don't think of Aslan as a fictional character, I can't say He's my favorite fictional character of all time ever...or my second or third favorite fictional character of all time ever.  And I have to admit that it's really hard for me to choose a second favorite fictional character from the series, but I can't help but love Lucy.

I love Edmund, too.  As a helpless sinner, I can relate to him better than any other character in the books, although all of the characters besides Aslan were imperfect--even Lucy.  It's just that Edmund was the one depicted as the traitor for which Aslan died.  That hits home.  I perfectly understand Edmund's willingness to betray his own family for just another taste of Turkish delight.  There have been times when I have turned my back on God just because I wanted to do my own thing--and once I had what I thought I wanted, I realized how worthless it was, especially compared to Him, His calling, and His unfailing Love.

But there's just something about Lucy that wins me over.  She's just so wonderfully childlike.  I can just sense that wonderment when she first enters the wintry land of Narnia.  I appreciate her insistence that she really did see Narnia, even when her own family thinks she's just playing make believe.  Even more than that, I admire the amazing childlike love she has for Aslan. 

My favorite book out of the Narnia series is The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.  There are so many amazing things about this book (the movie was all right, but I really think they missed the adventure aspect of the book by trying to write a new plot for it) that I can't begin to even list them (Dragons AND Dufflepuds???!!!  What's not to love?).  My favorite part of the book, however, is near the end, when Lucy and Edmund learn that they must go back to their own world and that they're too old to return to Narnia (so that confirms it, then...I really am too old to keep checking my closet).  And Lucy says something wonderful.  Aslan's reply is even more wonderful.

"It isn't Narnia, you know," sobbed Lucy.  "It's you.  We shan't meet you there.  And how can we live, never meeting you."
"But you shall meet me, dear one," said Aslan.
"Are--are you there too, Sir?" said Edmund.
"I am," said Aslan.  "But there I have another name.  You must learn to know me by that name.  This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there."

I want that kind of childlike devotion.  I want to be more like Lucy.  She's not perfect; I realize that very well.  She has doubts.  She has insecurities.  She is very human.  But the fact that she is imperfect makes me hopeful that someone human and imperfect like me can be more like her.  I want that childlike faith.  I want that childlike devotion and love for God.

No.  You know what?  What I really want is to have the relationship with God like Lucy had with Aslan.  Maybe I do want to bury my head in His mane and hear His voice tell me that even if I'm not perfect, I'm still dearly, dearly loved.

SEW Sunday: Balance

Happy Easter, readers!  I just ate a pink marshmallow chicky Peep, but that's neither here nor there.

This has been an interesting week, to say the least.  It started out with me heading for church last Sunday, only to find that there were power lines lying on the road in front of my church.  I pulled into the nearly empty parking lot and discovered that there was no church because the power was out.  The bad storms/tornado caused a lot more damage than I had realized.  I still didn't realize it, because I immediately went home from not going to church and figured I should use that free time to go running.  I ran six miles.  That's my record...so far.

The next day, I realized that a lot of people had experienced a lot of damage from the storms.  Many people didn't have anywhere to stay; many more needed some extensive work done on their homes.  My church was set up as a station to help out a lot of the people in the community.  I had an opportunity to go help out.  In fact, I had a whole day off Tuesday.

The thing is, I had already planned on working on my writing on Tuesday.  I had been planning on it for WEEKS.  It needed to be done...and badly.  I guess it makes me selfish, because I am selfish, but I prayerfully decided to stick with my plans to work on my writing...instead of going to help out my community.  I didn't even get out of my pajamas that day. 

I reread my first novel on Tuesday.  All of it.  I have to say, in the past week, I've read three really good books.  Two of them were part of the Hunger Games trilogy.  The other one...surprisingly...was my own.  That first book, which was such a catastrophe when I first penned it, had been edited and edited and edited until I was sick of it.  But after putting it aside for several months and going back to it, I had a fresh perspective.  I was viewing it as a reader and not as a writer/editor.  And I found that I couldn't put my own book down...because, at the risk of sounding vain, it was really good.

That's not to say I didn't edit a little here or there while reading it, but all in all, I'm almost there.  I'm almost ready to try selling this book again.  It's because I'm confident that what I have is something worth selling, something worth reading.  I have a renewed focus and energy to actually try to get all the other stuff done so I can send out some queries.

And, yes, I think that was a day off well-spent.

But I have to admit I'm feeling guilty; whether that guilt is justified or not, it's there.  I know that I could have gone to my church to help out instead of spending that time on my own projects.  I don't know how useful I would have been, but I figure in a disastrous situation, almost any willing person can find some small way to help. 

The other books I read this week, the Hunger Games books, are very sad, very intense...even disturbing at times.  But they're really good and make you think.  The main character had all sorts of ridiculous trials that I've never had to face or even imagine.  And it's easy to say, "Well, that's just a book," but then my mind turns to the real-life atrocities.  There are children dying of starvation all over this world--even here in America.  Even worse than that, in my opinion, are the markets which sell children into prostitution.  There's war.  There's hunger.  There's need.

And I sit in my pajamas and write.  Usually with a big warm cup of tea. 

Sometimes I feel like what I am doing is such a waste compared to what I could be doing. 

Art isn't practical.  I think every artist who strives to serve the Lord probably goes through something similar to what I'm talking about right now.  Why create paintings or stories or poems or songs when there are so many physical needs that need to be met?

I, personally, can honestly say that I know the Lord was pursuing me at a very young age.  I don't even remember the exact time I became a Christian because it's just always seemed that the Lord was with me, guiding me, calling me to Himself.  And it's easy to fall into this trap of believing that God pursued me that strongly because there's something big I'm meant to do with my life, something important.

Or maybe...maybe...God just wants me because He loves me.  And maybe that's better than being important.

And maybe all I have to do is what I have in my hands to do at the time.  I get all riled up and start thinking I can somehow change the world if I work harder, act better, do more more more.  But all the good, hard work in the world is not going to change the fact that I'm a weak fool in need of a Savior.

Do I need to show mercy to others and share that Savior with them?  Yes.

Does that mean that I'm being neglectful of the needs of others if I'm working on something else the Lord has given me to do?  Maybe.  In some circumstances, yes.  But, in this case, I don't think so.  The guilt I feel is not of God.

Because the Lord is creative, and He has breathed that spark of creativity into me.  He has given me dreams and visions, stories and songs.  I'm not a writer because I choose to be.  I'm a writer because that's how God has made me.  And the time was given to me to work on something He had given me to do.  So I did it.  And now I'm just a little bit closer to achieving the goal of being a published writer.  I don't regret it.

I have to say, though.  This week, especially today, has really made me think about balance.  Oh, I'm so wretchedly bad at balance.  I could go on an on about how much I have to work, how little time I have, blah blah blah.  It's an excuse, and not even a very good one.  Everyone is busy.  The thing is, I've got 24 hours every single day with which to use.  True, some of those hours belong to my bosses, but I've still got a lot of time that's mine.  The trick is figuring out how much of that time I'm going to devote to helping others, how much time I'm going to devote to my writing, how much time of that I'm going to use to rest (because rest is important, too...God said so). 

Prayers are appreciated as I continue to try to figure this balancing act out.  I'm greatly encouraged that the Lord is working, both in the lives in this community and in my personal writing life.  Aslan is definitely on the move.

And by the way...

The Stone Table has cracked.  The Lion roars.

Christ is risen!

Characters Welcome

I really like those USA television promos with the little "Characters Welcome" slogan. USA gets it. Good television shows don't do well because every single script is perfect. Even the best shows have bad episodes (except maybe Psych. Never saw a bad episode of Psych--but even that is because Shawn and Gus make me snortle). While good plots are very important, what really keeps people watching is the characters.

Plots are important, but I think characters are even more important. If you have a wonderful plot with amazing twists and turns, I'm probably not going to care too much about it unless you also have some amazing characters to experience that plot. I'm not going to relate to anything in the story unless I can relate to the characters. That relating can mean I understand where they're coming from and what they're dealing with because I've been there, or it can mean I want to know WHY they're acting the way they do in a certain situation, or it can mean I want to be more like them. However I relate to a character, I'm going to keep reading to figure out what's going to happen because I've made an emotional investment in the characters.

I'm looking back on some of my favorite fictional characters. At the top of the list is Meg Murray from "A Wrinkle in Time" and the other books in that series. I get her. In a lot of ways, I am her. I'm that awkward kid who gets frustrated with herself and others way too easily. I'm constantly struggling with the idea that I am not good enough, trying to balance it with the idea that I've been made in the image of God. Madeleine L'Engle struck gold when she found Meg. I know a lot of people who have said that they're just like her. If she can overcome the odds she had to face, then so can we. That's good writing.

Then there's my second favorite fictional character, Samwise Gamgee from LOTR. To me, this little hobbit is the embodiment of loyalty. He wouldn't leave Frodo. When he couldn't carry Frodo's burden, he carried him. I relate to Sam because I think I am a lot like him, but I want to be even more like him. I want to be that fiercely loyal friend. My emotional investment to him caused me to weep like a baby when I got to the end of the books and realized he would have to be separated from Frodo. It makes me a little teary eyed to think of it even now.

My third favorite fictional character is also someone I wish I could be more like. Lucy Pevensie from "The Chronicles of Narnia." I wish I could be as childlike as she is. Every time she has to leave Aslan, especially at the end of "Voyage of the Dawn Treader," I also get weepy.

Another of my favorite characters is Taran from "The Chronicles of Prydain." He's a boy and he's a little harder to understand than some of the other characters I love. I do understand him some. I do want to be like him in some ways (good characterization is usually pretty multifaceted). I also wonder what he's going to do next because I don't always understand why he acts the way he does. I want to see if he attains his dreams. I want to see if he gets the girl. I want to see what he learns through his journies.

It's the same sort of feeling I get when I read Harry Potter. I don't get why Harry acts the way he does. I don't know why he gets himself into certain predicaments, but it's interesting to see how he gets out of them. I want to see what happens to him. J. K. Rowling is very good at weaving elements through stories. Something that seems insignificant somewhere might be the very thing that ties everything else together. I like her writing, but it wouldn't be very good if she didn't also have all these amazing and interesting characters.

I've been thinking about my own characters. There's a few that are very much like me, and these have been the easiest for me to write. But right now I'm starting a new story and I think the main character is a lot like me, only I'm having a lot of trouble with her. I think the reason is because she's a lot like who I was when I was a teenager, only perhaps a little more down to earth (she has had more disappointment in life than I had ever had at that point in my life). She's closed. She doesn't let people in easily. I'm trying to write her, but she doesn't want to let me in enough to let me see how to write her. She has the potential to be someone amazing, and I want to show her that. Right now, though, she's uncomfortably awkward (I've finally become very comfortable with my awkwardness--read my socially awkward blog). She has one friend. She doesn't trust people. She's angry and bitter and extremely moody. She has a lot of good qualities, too, of course, but it's harder to see them because she doesn't like to show them.

I adore her, but she doesn't want to let me write her.

I know that sounds weird. I can't help the way I relate to my characters. Ever since a character named "Rain" entered my life and demanded that I write her the way she IS instead of the way I wanted her to be, I've been treating my characters with a lot more respect. If I expect them to live, then they're more likely to live.

But Rain didn't take over (and quite literally possess me for two weeks) immediately. I dreamt her up and thought she was someone quite weak and unimportant until one day she just spoke up and proclaimed her strength and vitality. Maybe it's the same thing with this other character. Maybe I need to give her some time.

I hope it doesn't take too long. I've got a plot (weak as it is at the moment), but without her and another character (who I am also having just a little bit of trouble with), the plot is pretty much useless. I want people to invest in her and my other characters. I want to make people care about what happens to her. At the moment, I don't think she WANTS other people to care. So that's where the conflict is. Sigh.

I think it's time to write letters to my characters again.