Daydreams of the Ugly Duckling

I saw the movie Enchanted today. It was cute, and I was amused by it, even though all of my friends that have seen it thought it was idiotic. (I'm immature, what can I say?) But because the movie was all about fairy tales, it unearthed the part of me that's still 6 years old. I grew up with beautiful books and stories, but from a young age, I always preferred fairy tales. Not just the Disney ones, although of course I grew up watching Snow White, Cinderella, The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, and many, many others, countless times, (my favorite movie with a "princess" in it was Beauty and the Beast: Belle loved to read and she was a brunette; for a 5 year old that's a huge deal), but also the real fairy tales: the (somewhat) unsanitized tales of princes that fight gigantic ogres with terrifyingly bad breath, the beautiful princesses who were sometimes in league with witches and demons, the youngest sons of farmers or woodcutters who were somehow the bravest and the strongest and the kindest in the land who always win in the end, the mythical creatures in the equally mythical and mysterious, dangerous, dark forests, and the entire magical world. I adored fairy tales. I read everyone I could find. The library of my elementary school, had the entire collection of Andrew Lang's Fairy Books (The Blue Book, The Red Book, The Green Book, The Yellow Book, the Violet Book, The Chartruese Book, The Salmon Book, etc. ...) and I read all of them at least two times. (I also read and reread and reread and reread Hans Christian Anderson and the children's version of the Brother's Grimm.) Back then (and, alright, now) fairy tales were my only means of escape from a cruel and inhospitible world, and they very quickly became my reality. There are no divorces in fairy tales. Young girls who have sad and lonely childhoods grow up to be the most beautiful women in the world, whom everyone adores. The ugly duckling always becomes the swan. She has to; that's the way it's written. I began to see the world in terms of good and evil, with the strictest ethics that I learned from my books. But at the same time, they taught me that even the lowliest was capable of the greatest good; that even I was capable of good. Fairy tales have their own view of justice: the evil die or are horribly punished, while the good get their happily-ever-afters. I saw that in my books, and I dreamed that it would somehow get applied to the real world. I guess I still do. But more so then the justice, and the safety, I retreated into stories for the wonders they possessed. In fairy tales, the mundane and supernatural walk together like twin brothers. And just like twins, sometimes you don't know which is which. The supernatural becomes mundane and the mundane becomes something supernatural. In fairy tales wonderful, beautiful, magical, miraculous events take place every day. I don't regret my reclusion into fantasy; it gave me so much more that reality never could. It awakened in me a great sense of wonder, for somewhere, everywhere, there was something fantastic happening, even if I couldn't see it. They made me search my back yard and the nearby park for leprechauns. Fairy tales allowed me to see the magic that I desperately needed; and they taught me to cherish every living thing, for life has a magic of its own, far more powerful than any spell. They made me into the idiotically optimistic person I am today. For a time I recanted my beliefs in fairy tales: those years were the hardest and saddest in my life. I've grown older and become this strange girl-woman hybrid, and now I can see the beauty and the truth in my old daydreams. Crutch for reality they may be, but fairy tales only add hope, wonder and magic to this world: things we need more than we know.
"Fairy tales do not tell children the dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children the dragons can be killed. "-G.K. Chesterton
Kathleen, the (ex?) Disney Princess