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The Duality of all Things ... 49
Contemporary Adaptations ... 51
Tangled (Nathan Greno, Byron Howard 2010) ... 53
Chapter 4
Little Red Riding Hood ... 65
Spinning the Tale from Myths ... 65
Literary Variations & Pre-stories... 67
The Grandmother's Tale
finding the strength within ... 67
Perrault's Le Petit Chaperon Rouge sharing the hunger ... 72
The Grimm's Little Red Cap change awaits... 75
Cultural backgrounds ... 81
The wolf - father
seducer and protector ... 84
The two mothers an (un)conscious battle ... 85
Contemporary Adaptations ... 87
Literary Adaptations ... 87
Angela Carter ... 88
Cinematic Adaptations... 91
The Company of Wolves (Neil Jordan 1984)... 91
Red Riding Hood (Catherine Hardwicke 2011) ... 96
Conclusion ... 102
Bibliography ... cv
9
Introduction
O
nce there was a girl who freely went to bed just to hear one more story from a land that
lies east of the sun and west of the moon - to wonder how straw could possibly be spun into
gold overnight and to marvel at King Thrushbeard's clever, yet deceiving wits.
Now I read those tales of wonder to children myself, only to discover the same excitement in
their eyes that I, too, once felt. And still feel, for fairy tales never cease to amaze. Today I
might not be waiting for someone to read or recite a classic tale or an old myth to me, but I am
nevertheless eager to witness new forms and ways for my old tales to be told - in different
countries, under different roofs. Today I hear storytellers all around me, wonder at the current
recovery of fairy tale films and marvel at Annie Leibovitz's conceptual, yet beautiful photo-
graphs. As I am finding myself in a process of constant changing and adapting, I am once again
accompanied by an old friend, the tale.
In a Darwinian sense, the term adaptation manifests first and foremost survival through
evolution, a theory I find very applicable to literary studies, and more specifically, to the
concept of continuity with regard to classic fairy tales. I therefore argue in my paper that
contemporary adaptations of fairy tales positively affect the continuance of the tradition of
storytelling. Adaptations influence the audience's perception of foregone fairy tales and,
depending on the former's success, may be established as part of the collective memory,
which ensures the survival of the fairy tale.
In order to further explore my study, I chose and analysed various adaptations of two clas-
sic fairy tales and compared them to the source fairy tale, its origins and its influence in
modern times. Before I will specifically concentrate on the tales of Rapunzel and Little Red
Riding Hood, I will start my paper by giving an introduction to the fairy tale genre in general, as
well as to the art and techniques of adaptation.
Over the past decades, a lot of scientific works have been published concerning the most
popular fairy tales, e.g. Snow White, Sleeping Beauty or Cinderella. In fact, this was done in
such a great quantity that I did not feel very compelled to write about any of the afore-
mentioned fairy tales. Instead, I noticed that within a time frame of mere four months, new
film adaptations of the classic tales Rapunzel, Beauty and the Beast and Little Red Riding Hood
were to be released in theatres, which gave me a first idea. The movies Tangled (Disney, 2010)
and Red Riding Hood (Hardwicke, 2011) eventually turned out to take up most of my examina-
10
tion, as their genre-conform approaches impressively differ from one another and their
respective source material. Nevertheless, I will also draw on other fairy tales and their adapted
forms as illustrative examples.
I wholeheartedly agree with Sandra Beckett that retold fairy tales can be marked as an
"interplay of tradition and innovation" (Recycling Red Riding Hood (2002), xx). Adapting and
adjusting start where mere copying ends. It takes the product, or in this case story, beyond its
original parameters, shaping it anew but preserving the core at the same time. It may be
stripped bare until only the most distinctive features remain, translated into different times or
even circumstances. Especially fairy tales were designed for exactly this: to be most fitting in
any situation, anywhere and anytime, profession irrelevant. The short prose of fairy tales or
even the slightly longer ones known as fairy tale novellas allow audience and adapters to fill
the gaps, to extend the story or simply provide a new livery in this regard the possibilities
seem to be endless.
Before I started to write this paper, I had been tempted to use the German term `Märchen'
instead of `fairy tale' for it recaps the main concept in one single word. The former established
long before the seventeenth century term `fairy tale', which is in fact rather misleading as the
fairy tale does not define itself to necessarily include fairies. `Märchen' on the other hand is
the hypernym of both folk and literary tale (`Kunstmärchen'). Other English translations for
`Märchen' are `tales of magic' or `tales of enchantment' which all hint at the supernatural plots
they commonly feature. Then again, fairies can also be counted as a metaphor for otherworld-
ly occurrences, which is the reason why I held on to the term `fairy tale' in this paper.
As time passed, classic tales have grown in all kinds of directions, from the hearth to the
stage, onto paper and screen. They will continue to do so and in my mind, this is not a violation
of tradition or distorting their original character, but a tradition itself and proof for every
storyteller's imagination. If we take a closer look at some tales, especially those by the
brothers Grimm, we soon realise that the motif of conveying certain morals is just a superficial
layer that has mostly been added once the group of listeners and readers became increasingly
younger. In the old times (during monocracy, slavery or serfdom) and amidst oral tradition,
fairy tales were told to and by adults. They processed everyday experiences, expressed among
hopes and fears, a need for equity and justice and included wishes that could only come true
with the help of magic. After a great amount of fairy tales had been collected and written
down (especially after the publication of the brothers Grimm's first edition of Children's and
Household Tales, (1812)), the audience changed to that of mostly children. They remain as the
main target group up until today, even though many fairy tales motifs and themes can be
found in the entertainment world of adults as well.
11
Robert Stam, editor of Literature and Film (2005), further agrees that adaptations can be
seen "as `mutations' that help their source novel `survive'. Do not adaptations `adapt to'
changing environments and changing tastes, as well as to a new medium, with its distinct
industrial demands, commercial pressures, censorship taboos, and aesthetic norms? And are
adaptations not a hybrid form [...]?" (cf. Stam 3).
On the other hand, he does not fail to outline the threat that adaptations pose to their literary
sources for they can also be
"[...] seen as parasitical on their source texts and on the A-list prestige of literature.
[...] critics speak of adaptations which overwhelm and vampirize their sources, `suck-
ing the life' out of their `hosts'. (ibid).
Notwithstanding the manifold disapproving statements that have presumably existed ever
since the very first fairy tale adaptation, Jack Zipes underlines my thesis by claiming that
"the tale is preserved in some manner and in many cases enriched [...] and can be-
come of a documented cultural heritage" (Zipes, The Enchanted Screen (2011), 11).
12
Chapter 1
The Fairy Tale
"I foresee that the Andersen and Fairy Tale fashion will not last; none of these things
away from general nature do." Mary Russell Mitford to Charles Boner (1848)
Origins and Definition
The curious thing about a fairy tale definition is that there is no consistent definition, only
guidelines which include representative characters (or archetypes), themes and motifs and
that are ever open for dispute. One of the difficulties is that the term fairy tale itself is too
broad on the one hand, yet also too constrictive on the other. Some literature professors
prefer to use the term `folk tale', whereas others banish any foreign translation and keep the
German word `Märchen' as it is a more distinctly defined term. Stith Thompson published
The Folktale in 1946 with the definition that a `Märchen' is "a tale of some length involving a
succession of motifs or episodes. It moves in an unreal world without definite locality or
definite creatures and is filled with the marvelous. In this never-never land, humble heroes
kill adversaries, succeed to kingdoms and marry princesses." (Thompson 8). As a sub-genre,
the fairy tale belongs to the genre of general folktales, which also includes legends, fables
and myths. However, the lines between those sub-genres are often indistinct and can blur
easily, making it impossible to be properly distinguished from one other.
Fairy tales are furthermore understood as orally passed down narrations from generation
to generation, with varying characters, order of events and endings. The popular saying `Tale
as old as time' refers to the practice of storytelling which is indeed thousands of years old and
has probably developed along with the first signs of communication. Therefore, fairy tales are
an assumed form of unwritten folk literature or, as Johann Gottfried Herder coined it, `natural
poetry', which Jacob Grimm understood as something creating itself (naturally, as opposed to
a poet's or writer's concoction). Because of the romantic understanding that folk literature has
always been present and seems therefore non-contrivable, the fairy tale's origins are only
seldom questioned. So, even though images of fairy tales are formed individually in the
recipient's mind, the concept of folklore leads them back to a collective source. This does not
13
necessarily exclude the former, though historical, artistic or cultural influences as well as
personal accounts regarding the perception of tales are not considered a priority in this theory.
Again, in the sense of Herder, the concept has developed that fairy tales have become part of
the ethnic soul with a transpersonal and time-transcending nature (cf. Liptay 40 f.).
The reason why origins of fairy tales are indeed explicitly difficult to trace, despite their
longevity, is because of the little literary evidence there is, including cave art. In the old days,
tales were told around the hearth or during a peasant's daily work and were frequently acted
out. The idea of collecting those stories told within a community became fashionable in the
sixteenth and seventeenth century in the Western world and was further encouraged by the
invention of the printing press in 1440. Giovanni Francesco Straparola published Le Piacevoli
Notti (English title: The Facetious Nights of Straparola) in Italy in the middle of the sixteenth
century, followed by Lo Cunto de li Cunti (The Tale of Tales or Pentamerone) by Neapolitan
Giambattista Basile almost a hundred years later. Charles Perrault borrowed many stories,
contained in his Contes de ma mère l'Oye (Tales of my Mother Goose, 1695) from Basile (e.g.
Sleeping Beauty) and Straparola (e.g. Puss in Boots), along with other folktales from the French
oral culture and adjusted them to the likings of the current society. Over a hundred years later,
the brothers Grimm's Children's and Household Tales also became one of the best-known fairy
tale collections worldwide, popularising stories like Cinderella, The Frog King or Snow White up
until today. While reading the latter's tales, it becomes clear that many roots lie in the stories
already told by Straparola (e.g. Iron John), Basile (e.g. Rapunzel) or Perrault (e.g. Little Red
Riding Hood). In fact, all five authors hold a position somewhere between publishers of orally
told folk tales and writers of literary fairy tales. They did not invent the whole story, but
changed them enough (e.g. in style and context) that they were able to publish them under
their own name and call them their property, so the adapted folk tale was no longer public
property. In this sense and for the sake of more clarity, it was (unsuccessfully) attempted to
establish the term `Buchmärchen' (cf. Tismar, Kunstmärchen (1977), 48).
Whereas possessing books was a sign of luxury in former centuries, certain writings soon
became affordable to the common people. Thus, the history of any tale preceding these
`modern' developments is inevitably vague and unclear. They are therefore called or declared
folk tales due to the unidentifiable inventor or rather inventors of such story. There are,
however, exceptions to this. Lucius Apuleius' tales, which include the well-known tale of Cupid
and Psyche, date back to the ancient Rome of 100-200 AD. It is even preceded by the Indian
Panchatantra from the third century BC as well as The Tale of the Two Brothers which is
14
considered to be one of the oldest known fairy tales as it dates back to ancient Egypt in 1200
BC. Yet, how precisely those tales relate to popular narrations of their respective period of
time and its people, remains unknown. They do, however, prove that the beginnings of
collecting fairy tales started during antiquity and not, as opposed to popular belief, in the
fourteenth century with the oriental collection of One Thousand and One Nights (cf. Diedrichs,
Who's who im Märchen (1995), 56).
Fairy tales had not been classified as a distinctive literature genre for a long time. They
were merely considered or perceived as `Märchen' or `Märlein' a fictive or funny short tale.
Both German terms are diminutives of `Mär(e)' which translates as lore or a piece of infor-
mation. The term fairy tale first appeared in France in the late seventeenth century where the
first `contes de fees' were told at the French Court and literary salons by both noble women
and men. Among them, of course, was Charles Perrault. Today's meaning of fairy tales have
mostly been coined by him as well as the brothers Grimm. Even though the latter's collection
also contains elements of legend, saga and fable, they are first and foremost tales of wonder
and enchantment (cf. Rötzer, Literarische Texte verstehen und interpretieren (1994), 13).
Most popular volumes of collected fairy tales have remained mainly unchanged in their
overall concept until today. This causes a so-called "Requisitenerstarrung" (Rötzer 12) a
`torpor' of the accoutrements, i.e. of cultural, political and economic circumstances. In her
book WunderWelten (2004), Fabienne Liptay refers to this as literary fixation (cf. Liptay 130).
Over the centuries, fairy tales changed whenever society changed, mirroring the difficulties of
everyday life albeit the magical elements. As the adjustments to the folk tales came to a stop,
the process of actualising or updating the tales also halted and as a result, the conditions of life
in the fairy tale no longer match the evolving reality of today.
`Märchen' can further be divided into folk tales and `Kunstmärchen' - tales whose rights
belong to a known and identifiable author and remain unchanged from the beginning.
Dictionaries either translate the German term `Kunstmärchen' as `fairy tale' as well or as a
`literary fairy tale', making a proper assignment nearly impossible. Authors of literary fairy
tales, such as Oscar Wilde, use the traditional form and structure, but invent their own fairy
tales. His collection The Happy Prince and other Tales was published in 1888 and features
many internationally known `Kunstmärchen'. The Happy Prince, e.g., is written in the accord-
ing, aesthetic style, but with a less amount of naivety. Fairy tale novellas or novella fairy tales
(i.e. longer tales) generally belong to the category of `Kunstmärchen' as well. E.T.A. Hoffmann,
author of The Golden Pot A modern Fairy Tale (1814) added a more sinister or eerie taste to
the fairy tale in his novellas. The possibly best known inventor of literary fairy tales, H. C.
Andersen, created a unique style of his own that has become recognised and inspired many an
15
adaptation worldwide. The atmosphere of oral narration remains ever present in his tales,
even though their frequent `unhappy' endings stand in stark contrast to the general concept of
the fairy tale. Büchner drove the idea of an unexpected fairy tale ending even further when he
presented his anti-fairy-tale called Fairy Tale of the Grandmother (in: Woyzeck 1879). Distinc-
tive traits of the fairy tale are reversed and his tragic tale with the seemingly `wrong' structure
ends accordingly. It conveys no hope whatsoever to the reader, but reveals the harshness of
reality in every line instead. Everyone is on his own in his life, which never ends happily, but
always deathly.
Characteristics
According to Röhrich, fairy tales appeal to collective anxiety dreams as well as idle wishes
and mirror general inner conflicts and the possibility of solution. Therefore, fairy tales affect
everybody for they represent an everyman's reality and more importantly, the longing for
fulfilment of one's own fortune and happiness. (Das Kontinuitätsproblem bei der Erforschung
der Volksprosa. (1969) cf. Liptay 41).
There is no distinction between reality and the supernatural; both worlds are inseparably
entwined in fairy tales. Laws of nature are naturally overruled, meaning that everything is
possible in the fairy tale which may include actions like communicating with animals or
meeting magical figures like sorcerers or witches. Well known opening formulae such as `Once
upon a time...' or similar first lines like `There once was...' signalise that the plot of the fairy
tale may take place anywhere and anytime. Furthermore it does not come as a surprise that
many protagonists of various tales do not possess common names. Their names are often
designations for the character's appearance (e.g. Beauty, Dwarf), their everyday or supernatu-
ral profession (e.g. Tailor, Witch), their status (e.g. Prince), the degree of kinship (e.g. Stepsis-
ter) and so forth. Popular, and thus exchangeable, names of a specific time period are also
likely to appear as it is often the case in the Grimm's fairy tales who, among others, published
various tales that frequently feature protagonists named Hans, e.g. Hans in Luck, Hans my
Hedgehog, Iron John (Der Eisenhans), Clever Hans, Hans married or the famous Hansel and
Gretel. More abstract names like Rapunzel, Red Riding Hood and Briar Rose (or Aurora as she is
sometimes called in other editions) are often linked to circumstances of the protagonist's
birth, appearance or fate, marking them as symbols of their own (cf. Rötzer 72).
16
Whether these distinctive features are preserved in an adaptation as well differs from
author to artist, who re-interpret and appropriate fairy tales to their own imagination.
Depending on the objectives, adaptations may incorporate the typical characteristics of fairy
tales, may invent new contexts or may be presented as a combination of both. Regarding the
protagonist's names, no tendency can be observed as to whether authors and playwrights
keep the original ones or give them individual or additional names. Jim Henson refused in The
Storyteller (1988) to call the Prince anything but and Cinderella's name is simply shortened to
Ella in Tommy O'Haver's Ella Enchanted (2004).The same clipping applies to the name Rapun-
zel in Donna Jo Napoli's fictive novel of Zel (1998). Alex Flinn, author of cross over fairy tale
novels, named her Sleeping Beauty in A Kiss in Time (2010) Talia, after Basile's Sun, Moon and
Talia (1634), which is one of the first literary versions of Sleeping Beauty. Angela Carter, on the
other hand, chose traditional names for the characters in her retold fairy tales or simply
referred to them as `her' or `him' as seen in The Courtship of Mr Lyon (1978) and The Lady of
the House of Love (1975), respectively.
The almost non-existent introduction to the story is another characteristic feature of the
fairy tale. Unlike in novels, there is not much space needed to create a whole new world,
which, again, is supported by the concept of the collective memory. The fairy tale cuts right
to the point of conflict, which is usually a state of injustice or improper behaviour. Many
popular tales follow that pattern so that certain features have become an easily recognisable
identifier of fairy tales. Problems and difficulties, although kept relatively short compared to
other genres, are soon established in order to build up the arch of suspense and because the
alternative would be too small a challenge for the protagonist to be worthy of a personal
happy ending.
Fairy tales do not have to include the obligatory fairy in order to be called fairy tale. Be-
fore and after the time of etymological development, tales have been told with or without
fairies, talking animals, sorcerers, witches and the like. No matter whether the supernatural
element finds its way into the tale or not, they still mirror the wishes and longings of a
seemingly unified audience. Ever since the oral tradition has turned into a written one, the
conventions of a former reality have been left untouched. Centuries old fairy tale collections
such as Perrault's Tales of my Mother Goose nor the Grimm's Children's and Household Tales
are as present as ever, even though classifications or concepts, like a princess being promised
to a neighbouring prince whom she has never met before, are now foreign to the Western
civilisation.
17
Fairy tales deal with processes of life, whether someone is in danger, tested, maturing or
saved all of this we experience as surreal, as `magic' moments which will then be projected
onto our own life. Many tales are full of surprises, hope and humour. Instead of witty dia-
logues, humour in fairy tales is generally conveyed through the actions of the characters. The
witch in Petrosinella, for instance, tries to catch the thief by lying underneath the earth, with
just one ear above it. Thus, the thief thinks the large ear to be a special, yet beautiful mush-
room and tries to pick it up. (Lüthi, Es war einmal (1998), 87).
Many people like to add a happy ending to the general set of fairy tales rules. Nevertheless, it
is certainly not true for all fairy tales, even though such idea might have arisen because of
various factors. First of all, many popular tales like Snow White or Beauty and the Beast end
indeed very happily. Secondly, it is conceivable that a later version, which provides a happy
ending at last, may come to fame. Little Red Riding Hood turns out to be a decent example:
Whereas Charles Perrault lets the heroine die at the end of the tale in order to emphasise his
message of warning, the brothers Grimm decided to have mercy on her and created a
different, a happy ending, making it the favoured version of this tale. In fact when Heinz
Rölleke speaks of the `Grimm Genre' it includes the affinity for happy endings which especial-
ly applies to countless fairy tales by the renowned brothers (Rölleke, Die Märchen der Brüder
Grimm (2000), 139). Yet numerous tales by different authors are not providing the reader
with a classic happy ending, at least not at the first glance.
Even though fairy tales are not always fated to end with a happy ending, many of them
still provide the reader with optimistic impressions. This means that even though the hero or
the heroine has to go through hard times or accomplish nearly impossible tasks during his or
her quest, they innately know that they will be rewarded in the end. At the peak of utter
bleakness of prospects a rescuing, often supernatural force helps the protagonists to
overcome their misfortune and guide them towards their wish fulfilment, underscoring the
presumption that fairy tales first and foremost, consciously or unconsciously, mediate the
concept of hope to its reader or audience.
18
How Fairy Tales Echo throughout the World
In 1926 and 1927, German storyteller Lisa Tetzner published Die schönsten Märchen der
Welt für 365 und einen Tag. It is, according to Winfried Freund, the last significant collection of
folk tales that offers a tale from varying cultural circles every day (cf. Freund, Das Märchen
(2003) 43). Coming across one of those international collections of tales, it seems like a tale of
wonder itself that a great amount of similar fairy tales exist in yet so many different countries.
Themes and motifs repeat themselves even though the countries, in which they were originally
told, lie far away from each other and did not have direct contact with one another.
Rötzer presents the following theories as possible answers to the afore-noted phenome-
non: The oldest one thereof is called evolutionary tree theory: a certain theme or plot has
been established at one place and one time from which travellers and merchants spread them
out into different parts of the world where they were re-told with added local colour and were
adapted to their own culture and way of living. Due to the longevity of fairy tales, large
migrations display a supplementary possibility. Scholars refer to this as the concept of
monogenesis: the singular development of fairy tales. The Indian Panchatantra e.g., is often
regarded as the first collection of all tales, presenting "an entire `mythogenic' zone from which
tales first emerged and diffused throughout the world" (Orenstein, Little Red Riding Hood
Uncloaked (2002), 77).
However, this theory does not explain why peoples that evidently never came into contact
with each other call similar fairy tales their own. In this case the theory of polygenesis,
represented especially by the Jungians, provides a look at the unique phenomenon of humani-
ty that connects every human being, body and soul combined, and eventually produces the so-
called archetype. Similar themes emerge at different times and different places because of the
similar cultural, political and economic congruities of a human being, which "give rise to
collective dreams and symbols" (ibid 78).
International exchange further has the effect that the boundaries of similarly structured
and thematised fairy tales blur in the collective memory due to the great number of variants of
one tale. In 1893 there were 345 recorded versions of the Cinderella tale, followed by presum-
ably thousands of similar editions and adaptations in various medial sectors around the world.
As opposed to other forms of art, the fairy tale genre evolved as a closely intertwined entity
with traditional motifs which are frequently revisited, cited, varied, continued or advanced (cf.
Liptay 131).
19
Chapter 2
The Adaptation
"Adaptation constitutes the driving force of contemporary culture, with stories adapted across
an array of media formats." (Murray, The Adaptation Industry (2012))
Adapting Literature
Adapting literature is, to put it briefly, transferring a story from one medium to another
while keeping the essence of the original work (cf. Keane, Schritt für Schritt zum erfolgreichen
Drehbuch (2002), 197 f.). Syd Field, author of a number of books subject to screenwriting,
further adds that adapting a medium is the ability to make something inherently consistent by
means of modification and adjustment (cf. Field, Drehbuchschreiben für Fernsehen und Film
(2003), 93). Conventions of the respective media have to be recognised and overcome in order
to create something new without being held as a mere copy of something already existent. Yet
the difference between appropriation (the process of turning another one's work of art into
one's own, notwithstanding original intentions etc.) and keeping the message and effect of the
original work remains. In a broader sense and reality, however, the degree of fidelity to the
original `script' often depends on economic restrictions:
"Adaptation is seen as a kind of purge. In the name of mass-audience legibility, the
novel is `cleansed' of moral ambiguity, narrative interruption, and reflexive medita-
tion. Aesthetic mainstreaming dovetails with economic censorship, since the chang-
es demanded in an adaptation are made in the name of monies spent and box-office
profits required" (Stam 43).
Stam further sums up the unbalanced relationship between literature and, as will be dis-
cussed thoroughly in the next chapters, its cinematic adaptations with regards to reoccurring,
though contradictive arguments by critics:
"Adaptation criticism purveys a series of such `double binds' and `Catch 22s'. A
`faithful' film is seen as uncreative, but an `unfaithful' film is a shameful betrayal of
20
the original. An adaptation that updates the text for the present is upbraided for not
respecting the period of the source, but respectful costume dramas are accused of a
failure of nerve in not `contemporizing' the text. If an adaptation renders the sexual
passages of the source novel literally, it is accused of vulgarity; if it fails to do so, it is
accused of cowardice. The adapter, it seems, can never win" (ibid 8).
However, structural theoretical developments and cultural studies are more and more
deconstructing the system of a vertical hierarchy associated in this frame of reference. The
focus lies on "exploring `horizontal' relations between neighbouring media" (cf. Stam 9) in
order to establish a separate "zone" (ibid) that is neither beneath nor above its source text but
an entity, an original of its own. This way the genre of adaptation has the possibility to present
itself in the proper, or at least in a more tolerable perspective for "[complete] originality is
neither possible nor even desirable" (ibid). Hence, the adaptation can neither be substitute nor
competition to the source material. Both are exclusively distinct in their significance.
Adapting a form of art into another requires altering and interpreting the original source in
order to make it one's own. In some cases, however, the popularity and impact of the altered,
adapted material has surpassed that of its origin. The latter lives and dies with it at the same
time. Julia Sanders wrote in her study about Adaptations and Appropriation that "so influen-
tial, indeed, have some appropriations become that in many instances they now define our
first experiences or encounters with their precursor of art" (Sanders, Adaptation and Appro-
priation (2005) 158).
In 1957, André Malraux brought the concept of `Le musée imaginaire' forward. It describes
the coexistence of different works of art, which can be experienced at the same time, despite
their possible historical and cultural distance. His theory is also applicable to the art of
adaptation, meaning that an adapted work can be equally enjoyed and exist next to its source
text, creating an audience-oriented dialogue instead (cf. Liptay 129 f.).
Adapting Fairy Tales
Over the centuries, fairy tales have established their own `musée imaginaire' as they shift-
ed through various centuries, cultures and media and mingled with other existing themes and
motifs. Therefore, whenever a new fairy tale emerges or has done so in the past, it can be
observed that certain elements were taken of that large pool of existing tales or in Malraux's
sense: from the imagined museum of tales (ibid).
21
Godard's Histoire(s) du cinéma (1988-98) shows that the artist himself creates a new work
of art from the indefinite fundus of an imagined collection of all things seen and remembered.
In fairy tales as well as adaptations, the reference to something that has existed before is
almost imperative and not only a side effect of artistry. In fact, some features, e.g. the
archetypical characters and formulaic devices, derive from the act of manifold repetition. The
emphasis lies again on the original, or rather roots of the story. Whenever a tale in the oral
tradition of storytelling was re-narrated, a new version of the former tale emerged with it,
growing and splitting into innumerable branches. This process is further evident in the popular
collections of fairy tales which have been inter alia personalised in style and theme or altered
for the anticipated audience. Especially the brothers Grimm repeatedly emphasised that their
aim was the preservation of traditional Germanic tales instead of creating new ones (ibid).
The concept of continuity, i.e. passing on stories over long passages of time, rejects perpe-
tuity and invariability of the traditional narration. Over the last years, the changes made to
fairy tales over past centuries have been discussed, seeing them as the precondition for
consistency of certain motifs and plot lines, leading to the conclusion that cultural goods can
only survive when adapted to altered conditions. Technically speaking, the concept of continu-
ity only applies to the oral tradition of fairy tales while their literary form, i.e. the `Kun-
stmärchen', is fixed and preserved for it is not part of the active lore anymore. Therefore,
questions of change should not be applicable to written tales. Liptay however argues, that
written texts are passed on as well and thus changed albeit their frozen appearance. The
cultural and historical changes are expressed in the texts that emerge from the literary tales
whenever they are interpreted, edited or adapted, swaying between the poles of continuity
and transition. So, every new edition does not only preserve narrative tradition, but represents
folk memory as well. Depending on the degree of variation, it is also an individual reshaping
that highlights signs of contemporaneity (cf. ibid 41 f.).
Notwithstanding whether artists adapt a fairy tale or a novel, there are always two pro-
cesses involved: expropriation and appropriation. The one adapting the story first expropri-
ates, literally takes the story away from the original proprietor, after which he turns it into his
own work of art, i.e. appropriates it to suit his imagination and re-creation (cf. Zipes 14).
Depending on the intended emphasis the `new' storyteller wants to convey, it is the latter's
fair right as an appropriator to change especially the socio-cultural context. Charles Perrault,
who wrote down oral fairy tales or variants of already published ones, followed the same
motivations, when he adapted them to suite the expectations and quirks of his time, i.e. the
22
seventeenth century, and place, i.e. the royal French court. Michel Ocelot, director and former
president of the International Animated Film Association, even demands that nobody should
contribute to making adaptations, but creating originals. Even though he is often inspired by
anonymous tales, it is him who tells the tale this time. He takes the tale into whichever
direction he chooses and thus personalises its contents, but refrains from being too concerned
with its origin, for he does not want to be stuck in a specific time or context. "Today [...] I do
what I want with the heritage" (Aurouet quoted in Zipes 16).
Adapting a fairy tale does not always have to involve changing the context. Even though
timelessness is a specific feature of the fairy tale, artists who rely on fixed versions of a tale
or use a `Kunstmärchen' as a source, sometimes relate or try to recreate the period in which
that specific tale or version of the tale was first published. A large number of adaptations,
however, are presented in a complete new livery and surrounding setting, because, once the
fairy tale has been expropriated, "it [is] freed to become appropriated in innumerable
unimaginable ways up through the present" (Zipes 11).
The fairy tale world is a metaphor for a world that can be painted in black and white.
Everything is good or evil, poor or wealthy and so forth and there seems to be nothing in
between. In the end, the good will be sufficiently rewarded and the evil punished. In
contemporary adaptations however, especially longer lasting productions such as motion
pictures, theatre plays or novels, the possibility opens up to fill that grey area. Thus, the
prima facie `simple' fairy tale can be turned into a more complex scenario and is able to
address and emphasise interpersonal relationships more heavily (as e.g. seen in Catherine
Hardwicke's Red Riding Hood).
The fairy tale in written or traditional oral form is usually defined as short prose, originally
told within a social gathering or as a bedtime story. However, there is nothing short about a
film or a play that lasts at least ninety minutes and nothing comforting in the anonymity of a
dark theatre. The more connected the audience becomes to fairy tale adaptations shaped by
the ever developing technology of new media, the less it remembers specific details from their
sources, albeit the fact that they promote awareness of the latter. Eventually, the success and
established popularity (traditionally or overnight) of a fairy tale in one medium or another will
decide whether a classic tale remains unharmed within the minds of generations or whether it
shares its spot of memory with, or is even completely replaced by an adaptation. People who
claim to know e.g. the story of The Little Mermaid (1837) by the Danish poet H. C. Andersen
may be genuinely convinced of its happy ending. What they actually have in mind is not the
written tale itself but Disney's cinematic love story of red-haired Arielle, who lives happily ever
23
after with the prince she once saved (The Little Mermaid (1989)). They may also believe in the
magical kiss between the princess and the frog as the overcoming of her fear and disgust, for
one may not sympathise with a woman who, after breaking nearly all of her promises, throws
her repugnant future husband against a wall and still gets to marry the handsome prince he
has suddenly turned into.
The fairy tale kiss itself can be identified as a `disneyfied' or at least as a modern delusion
and romanticised consequence of adapting stories of the fairy tale genre. Slowly but surely, it
has become common belief that everybody can be transformed and released from a spell with
a kiss. Briar Rose (Sleeping Beauty, Disney, 1959) will be awakened, and Frog King (Der
Froschkönig, ARD, 2008) and Beast (Beastly, CBS Films, 2011) will both turn into handsome
princes, once all three have touched their true love's lips. It is rather ironic that none of the
written tales, on which the movies are based, ever mention a true love's kiss as a spell
breaking potion. In fact, physical contact might often be implied, but is generally not explicitly
present in the lines of the stories. In truth, Sleeping Beauty awakes because, on the day the
prince arrives, her century of enforced sleep has passed, and the lucky young man might just
happen to be at the right place at the right time. The Frog King, as mentioned earlier, gets
slammed against a wall by the snobbish princess which triggers his transformation and the
Beast's fragile heart simply knows when it has finally been touched by love.
Even though not all fairy tales end with a happily ever after, it has become one of the most
recognised features of this genre. So, whenever stories, films or even songs (not having to be
particularly categorised as a fairy tale or a fairy tale adaptation) are completed with a too-
satisfying `fairy tale like' happy ending, a common reaction towards this final turn of events is
incredibility. The critical audience usually relates such happy endings to a dreamlike state, as
unreal and untouchable as the fantastic elements of the fairy tale itself. However, the purpose
of these stories is to allow and not deny oneself the implied hope that potentials can be
reached and that the unrealistic can become very real indeed. Joe Wright, director of the
acclaimed cinematic adaptations of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice (2005) and Ian McEwan's
Atonement (2007) adds that
"wish fulfilment serves a purpose. A lot of people consider it a cop out or a cynical
act, but I think wish fulfilment is really important in drama. And it's important for the
people who watch it and the people who make it. We need to have something to
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reach for to not settle for less." (Pride & Prejudice, Director's commentary,
01:49:10).
Fabienne Liptay concludes that every fairy tale adaptation has to be considered a "Individ-
ualisierung des Allgemeinen" (Liptay 45), in which artistic-aesthetic and biographical, ideologi-
cal, cultural as well as socio-political, national and epochal backgrounds are reflected.
According to her, this should be regarded as the true motivation for contemporary adaptation
and realisation of fairy tales instead of a deficiency. So, even though their themes are consid-
ered timeless, the fairy tale around it does change with each time-bound perception. This gives
especially the medium of film the opportunity to show and actually demonstrate the above-
mentioned changes right in front of the audience's eyes (cf. ibid).
Adapting from different Media
The process of adapting is not limited to referring to the genre of novels, or to literature in
general, as a source material, even though it appears to be the most frequent means. Short
stories like The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (1922) by F. Scott Fitzgerald or stage plays
such as Tennessee Williams' The Glass Menagerie (1944) have been repeatedly adapted
throughout the past decades. Biographies, poems, prose, parodies and even articles as well as
other films can and have been adjusted to fit screens, stages or exhibitions, only to name a
few, in numerable examples. Adapted comics, especially those featuring the superheroes of
Marvel and DC Comics, along with Japanese manga frequently appear in TV shows and movies
alike. Even computer games, in which the storyline is often regarded as subordinate, are likely
to be adjusted to the big screen, as seen in the recent film version of Prince of Persia: The
Sands of Time (2010). In fact, the Walt Disney Company successfully adapted their own theme
park attraction and turned it into the box-office hit The Pirates of the Caribbean (2003-2011).
Yet they all share the underlying concept of a story (even regarding Disney's theme park) that
induces inspiration to take the written wor(l)d even further.
Origins of Beauty and the Beast can be found in Lucius Apuleius' tale of Cupid and Psyche
(second century AD). Similar themed versions by French writers Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de
Villeneuve and Jeanne-Marie Le Prince de Beaumont of the seventeenth century contributed
to the popularity of the fairy tale, which exists in different variants around the world. In 1946,
French director Jean Cocteau turned it into the romantic black and white fantasy film La Belle
et la Bête. It is followed by Walt Disney's animated Beauty and the Beast (1991, which in turn
adapted various motifs, like the candelabra and the added subplot that includes Belle's
25
malevolent suitor, from Cocteau's movie. Due to its success and its rising popularity, the
animated film was transferred to the stage and rewritten as a musical in 1994. Over a decade
later, American novelist Alex Flinn retold the classic tale as a contemporary love story between
two teenagers (2007), a story that has recently been adapted to the cinematic screen (2011).
Both versions are called Beastly. Phenomenally enough, this little excursion barely covers
today's best-known adaptations of Beauty and the Beast. Numerous other versions were
realised among different types of media and in various parts of the world, especially when the
aspect of recycling the tale, its characters or themes, is included in the count.
As Stam points out, "[t]he `original' always turns out to be partially `copied' from some-
thing earlier: The Odyssey goes back to anonymous oral formulaic stories, Don Quixote goes
back to chivalric romances, Robinson Crusoe goes back to travel journalism, and so on ad
infinitum" (Stam 8). The same Derridean deconstruction applies to the authors of collected
fairy tales, including those of Perrault and the brothers Grimm (ibid).
Adapting to different Media
German philosopher Ernst Bloch calls the element of hope in fairy tales the "anticipatory
illumination" (quoted in Zipes 1), emphasising their utopian and inalienable appeal. He further
argues that the maxims of fairy tales do not belong in the past but remain until today in the
form of "modern fairy tales" (Zipes 4), whether they come in the form of movies, modern
romances, comics and the like. Fairy tales lead their audience and readers to believe that they
are entitled to happiness, that they can consider themselves born free, that they should not be
afraid to use their own mind and that they can look positively into the future (ibid).
The print culture has manifested the oral tradition and yet the transformation of the print
culture towards new media technologies results in the phenomenon that younger generations
have already gained knowledge about certain fairy tales via the internet, the TV or theatre
screen before they have been introduced to the written sources (cf. Zipes 10). Today the
former appears to dominate the contemporary popular culture, even though the annual
amount of published literary adaptations of fairy tales is not to be underestimated either.
Stage productions that feature altered tales in the form of plays, the oldest form of visualising
imagination, ballets or musicals and the like, naturally belong to this category as well. Shorter
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versions of screen or other illustrative adaptations can even be occasionally observed in the
advertising sector.
Nevertheless, the antagonism of word and image, or abstractness and visualisation still
remains, levelling the foundation for a complicated, yet interdependent relationship.
Adapting to the Screen
"A fairy-tale film is any kind of cinematic representation recorded on film, on vide-
otape, or in digital form that employs motifs, characters, and plots generally found in
the oral and literary genre of the fairy tale, to re-create a known tale" (Zipes, The
Enchanted Screen, 8)
"Film, we are reminded, is a form of writing that borrows from other forms of writing."
(Stam 1).
Syd Field further claims that the trick of adapting original work is not to be true to the orig-
inal. In the past, many a film adaptation shattered under the heavy weight of a story that tried
to be too faithful to its source, presented in a different medium that includes every subplot or
secondary character (cf. Field 97). Fellow screenwriter Christopher Keane advises to omit the
term original work completely and to regard the latter only as research material for the
adaptation that has now become the original work (cf. Keane 198). In the end, however, the
former original work always sets the standards for or against the altered and adapted version
in the eyes of the critics.
Raised interest in visual entertainment and art eventually included the genre of fairy tales
in this art of transformation, even though said genre takes a different position. According to
Liptay, a cinematic fairy tale adaptation is not automatically a fairy tale movie. The designation
can only be applied when the link to the traditional material or roots become perceptible (cf.
Liptay 130). The required sources are technically speaking often oral ones, so it becomes
necessary to state that most fairy tale adaptations do not share the classic rules of adaptation.
However, fairy tales do not only provide recognisable archetypes, but also themes and stories
which principally address the inner fears of human beings, which may turn out as basic key
constellations for film scripts. During the attempt to create something new, instead of simply
doing a remake, the focus lies on extracting the meaning and the symbolic value of certain
elements and functions of the fairy tale. This means that, e.g. supernatural elements do not
27
have to literally appear in the final version of the adaptation, but may be translated into
something else entirely, as long as both actions amount to similar or equal purposes. Even
Vladimir Propp's Morphology of the Folktale (1928) can be transferred to the film genre in a
broader sense (cf. Kallas, Kreatives Drehbuchschreiben (2007), 141 f.). His structural analysis of
folktales and his dissection thereof into archetypical characters and functions turns out to be
applicable to innumerable screenings, which shows just how much impact the `ancient' oral
tradition of narration still has on modern pop culture. Kallas further reveals a technique called
intentional mistake, when dealing with a fairy tale as a source text. Anticipated behaviour of a
character or renowned elements of the tale are therefore occasionally inverted, exchanged or
completely omitted in order to give the plot a new or more exciting twist (ibid). The animated
film adaptation of Little Red Riding Hood called Hoodwinked! (2005) functions as an example.
Here, the audience meets a tough Karateka who listens to the name Red, a naive wolf, a
huntsman turned cowboy and a rather hazardous Granny.
A script is a story told in pictures, a visual experience true to the spirit of the source text
(cf. Field 93 f.). Dramaturgical necessity has priority over the source material for the latter is
only the point of departure but not the final station of the script. However, this does not
change the fact that creating a film means creating a story, told by screenwriters, actors and
directors; it is storytelling. The cinematic adaptation is about events and anecdotes combined
with thoughts and feelings expressed in fast moving pictures. Unless a film or TV format
features inner monologues or narrative voices, the reader is not able to `see' inside a charac-
ter's head anymore, as it is the case in stories that feature a first-person narrator. Hence,
intellectual brilliancy of the mind becomes irrelevant. Words not spoken out loud in a book
need to be translated into dialogues, if not actions, limited to those that will actually move the
storyline forward. Watching an adaptation of a novel sometimes feels like being served the
fast food version of what was once a full four-course meal. Reading a novel usually takes
longer than ninety minutes. But unlike the comparably slow building arch of suspense in a
book, it is exactly the opposite that makes up pace and tension in a movie: time pressure
(Keane 198 f.). In contrast to this popular philosophy based on necessity, stands the BBC,
which frequently produces TV adaptations of well-known classics such as Jane Austen's Emma
(2009) or Thomas Hardy's Tess of the D'Urbervilles (2008). In their aim to be as authentic as
possible, their productions are often presented in more than one episode, for the whole
format greatly exceeds the usual running time of 90 to 120 minutes and thus the pleasurable
concentration span of the audience. Eventually this concept, with its eager eye for detail, has
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proven successful for the British Broadcasting Corporation. Another common approach to
adapting literary sources is the `modernisation' of classics. In 1995, the main themes of
nineteenth century Emma were outlined in the contemporary comedy Clueless. The movie
revolves around the high school student Cher who plays Cupid around her friends, even
though she is unaware that her own future boyfriend has always been right in front of her.
Both productions of the BBC and Paramount Pictures have earned their share of recognition
for their very different approaches (and thus different anticipated audiences), whilst using the
same source text. Yet what they do have in common is that they actualised or rather updated
the collective memory. Fairy tales need to be remembered as well, so they will not eventually
slip our collective mind one day. The medium of film (for TV and cinema) is therefore a means
to ensure the continuity of collected memories. They are expressed in a different volume,
which is likely to turn out to be the preferred medium of younger generations that will soon
pass their memories on to the next generations. The only condition for a beneficial symbiosis
between film and original script is the mediation of awareness of the film's origins towards the
audience.
Unlike in classic novels, the question of compromising the story's content for the benefit of
the audience or the finished product is generally irrelevant regarding fairy tales. Because of the
tale's traditional short and tight structure, it is more a question of what or whom to add to the
plot in order to fill at least ninety minutes of running time. In the 2005 film version of Jane
Austen's Pride and Prejudice we see only one of Charles Bingley's two sisters on screen. Yet,
Caroline Bingley occasionally shows characteristic traits of both sisters combined. Reducing
characters or merging two or more into one is a popular technique in order to keep part of the
original atmosphere. Again, this is handled the other way around in movies that call fairy tales
their origin. The tale's archetypal characters leave the screenwriters a lot of room for develop-
ing unique personalities, albeit limiting the possibility for broad identification at the same time.
Jack Zipes agrees that the common definitions of adapting stories to the screen do not
entirely apply to the art of "[using] and [recreating] fairy tales and folk tales for the cinema"
(Zipes 7). It often happens that adaptations of fairy tales rely on more than one source text,
since their origins may vary (excluding the literary fairy tale). In addition to that, the people
who are involved in the realisation of the movie might also recall different versions of the
story, so that the pre-text is not a fixed source material but a more "flexible or fluid text, or it
consist of several variants of a tale type" (ibid 8). This also means that, even though the Walt
Disney Company based their movie Tangled on the Rapunzel tale by the brothers Grimm, it is
not the `urtext', as the Grimm's version is already an adaptation itself.
29
It is often claimed, especially within the educational sector, that today, children do not
seem to need books anymore in order to be introduced to the art of storytelling. The negative
connotations that swing along in this statement cannot be missed. However, Michael Sahr
argues that children need movies as well, even if they merely function as a means to learn how
to bring the manifold pictures into order, to understand the story underneath (cf. Sahr,
Verfilmte Kinder- und Jugendliteratur (2004) 23). Stam underscores this message while
disempowering the popular cliché that
,,`it takes no brains to sit down and watch a film.` This is rather like saying that it
takes no brains to sit down and turn the pages of a novel; what matters, in both cas-
es, is understanding what one sees or reads" (cf. Stam 7).
Just like novels and tales, well-prepared movies can stimulate the child's fantasy and creativity
as well, for they offer individual and various interpretations. Sahr further emphasises the
essential symbiosis of literary and audiovisual media, as they are either necessarily inspiring
(e.g. literary source material) or required (e.g. screenplay) for the other party. However,
literature clearly dominates this symbiotic relationship, since cinema and television are more
dependent on literary sources than the other way round (cf. Sahr 24). Upon this statement,
Stam remarks that
"The conventional language of adaptation criticism has often been profoundly mor-
alistic, rich in terms that imply that the cinema has somehow done a disservice to
literature. Terms like `infidelity,` `betrayal,' `deformation,' `violation,' `bastardiza-
tion,' `vulgarization,' and `desecration' proliferate in adaptation discourse, each
word carrying its specific charge of opprobrium. [...] the standard rhetoric has often
deployed an elegiac discourse of loss, lamenting what has been `lost' in the transi-
tion from novel to film, while ignoring what has been `gained'. [...] Too often, adap-
tation discourse subtly reinscribes the axiomatic superiority of literature to film."
(Stam 3 f.).
The superiority that Robert Stam mentions here might derive from the concept of long-
cherished and familiar traditions. Compared to the age-old art of writing, movies are mere
toddlers, trying out different approaches to conquer the world. "The older the wiser" or the
older the more prestigious is what Marshal MacLuhan refers to as the "rear view mirror" logic
(Stam 4). And yet, to imply that the older is also inevitably the better marks the point where
30
prejudices are introduced. Stam further mentions the concept of rivalry between literature
and film as yet another reason for the often palpable hostility between the two media:
"The writer and the filmmaker, according to an old anecdote, are traveling in the
same boat but they both harbour a secret desire to throw the other overboard. The in-
ter-art relation is seen as a Darwinian struggle to the death rather than a dialogue of-
fering mutual benefit and cross-fertilization. [...] In Freudian terms, film is seen in
terms of Bloom's `anxiety of influence,' whereby the adaptation as Oedipal son sym-
bolically slays the source-text as `father'" (ibid.).
Regarding the claim that movies restrict the unfolding of fantasy as opposed to its literary
source, it can be added that such criticism clearly underestimates the activity of the audience's
fantasy that is necessary to perceive and understand the film as a whole. The film might turn
abstract images into concrete ones, but the recipient's flow of fantasy does not stop once it
has been given a pre-defined visualisation. It rather concentrates now on the further develop-
ment and interpretation of the material and especially on that which could not be seen. Films
are usually shown or told in an elliptic way, meaning that the audience's imagination has to fill
all the gaps and work out coherencies that are omitted, due to editing or nonlinear time
frames, in order to follow the story line of the film. The audience's fantasy is therefore an
important part of the `media competence' required for comprehending any film (cf. Liptay
36f.). Sergej Eisenstein and Jean-Luc Godard even differentiate between `depiction' or
`representation' (visible image) and `image' (invisible image), while Godard further argues that
it is the association with the latter that stands for the true quality of a film (cf. Sergej Eisen-
stein, Das dynamische Quadrat (1988), 81f.). This becomes evident when the audience feels
the need to pull the invisible image into the light of visibility (through the use of fantasy),
when, whilst reciting a watched film to other people, the audience might remember images
that were never shown on screen (cf. Liptay 36f.).
Represented images are under metamorphosis when seen images become remembered
images and are consequently part of and stored in our memory. The audience is seduced by
the camera which takes it right into the heart of events and into subjective reveries that
continue until they merge with the reality of the film. The actual film is therefore not only
taking place on the screen, in front of the audience or the off-area around it, but in the
recipient's mind as well with its individual and unique associations and memories. Hence, such
semantic and emotional image processing can only be led back to a highly active fantasy of the
audience, thus discharging the contrasting theory of restriction, i.e. films limiting the viewer's
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