Cinderella is one of the world’s most beloved fairy tales thanks to the heroine’s inspirational “rags to riches” story. The figure Cinderella has been known by many names, such as Aschenputtel in German, Cendrillon in French, and Cenerentola in Italian. Fairy tale scholars believe there may be over 1,000 versions of the Cinderella story from around the world. Fairytalez has gathered a wonderful collection of the beloved classic familiar Cinderella stories by Charles Perrault, and the Grimm Brothers, but also other tales from other corners of the world. Enjoy this wonderful collection of Cinderella stories from all over the world and find your own personal favorite Cinderella tale.
12/2023 reread: My favorite versions of Cinderella will always be between the Grimm and Perrault, but most of the others in this book are enjoyable, particularly The Three Girls Who Went as Servants to the King's Palace, Rhodopis and Her Little Gilded Sandals, and The Indian Cinderella.
Today, Valentine’s Day, I’ve been thinking about the very first love story I ever read or heard or had read to me. I’d probably have to check with mum and her memory, but I feel quite strongly that it must have been Cinderella. I must have first read it or had it read to me in the Disney version (maybe the 1950 Golden Book?) and I do remember the Perrault more than the Grimm version, but that makes sense as the Grimm is rather grim. The horrid way the sisters mutilate their feet to fit into the mystery slipper. One told to cut her toe off. OMFG. The other told to cut a piece off her heel. And after all that, birds pluck out their eyes. The sisters are condemmed to be blind, because they were so mean.
Anyway, this edition also includes other Cinderella stories and I had fun reading the Strabo 7BC story of rose-cheeked Rhodopis, whose gilded sandal is taken by an eagle who ends up dropping at the King of Egypt’s feet. The King becomes obsessed by the beauty of the sandal and imagines more and more intently the beauty of the woman to whom this sandal belongs. At one point, he slips the sandal under his robe. It’s all a bit creepy, but love and lust will have us obsess with objects and equate their beauty with their owns. I used to obsess about boys who carried books I loved. One was Bentley who was carrying Nick Cave’s “And the Ass…”
Anyway, to the Cinderellas. I had forgotten the jealousy towards her (in the Perrault version), especially that of the Stepmother because her daughters were not quite as beautiful and good-mannered as Cinderella was. In the Grimm version, the bullying becomes rather extreme emotional abuse. The girl wants to go to the festival but the stepmother throws lentils into the fireplace and Cinderella has to separate them before she is allowed to go. That is a horrible thing to go through. Interestingly, Cinderella just does her best and that means calls for supernatural help from the birds to help her separate the lentils from the ash. She also gets supernatural help for a dress and so on. In the Perrault, it’s help from the Godmother. My own godmother had no magical powers, but she’d always remember my birthday, nameday, and Christmas with generous cash gifts which certainly contributed to solving some of my obstacles growing up.
Is this a love story? Does Cinderella even fall in love? The Prince certainly (in all three versions) becomes attracted to her beauty, but love? Supposedly Cinderella is a good person and that (for Perrault) is one of the morals of the tale, but it is unclear how her goodness contributes to her reward, if you like, of winning the Prince.
She gets the guy as a result of chance, fate, and the supernatural (maybe they are all three the one thing; things beyond our control). Her goodness, which is the only thing she truly controls, does not drive her story to its “happy” end. Her beauty, however, and the lucky acquirement of gorgeous attire, wheels, and drivers has nothing to do with virtue. Moreover, the Prince chooses her because she’s the most beautiful woman in the room, not because she’s the kindest. He falls in love with her when she is dressed up; she’s otherwise invisible as the cinder girl.
The whole idea of the King inviting all the eligible girls to attend an event so his son can “choose” a wife and all the wives-in-wanting appearing all dressed up and ready to be “chosen” is reminiscent of—back in the day—the way we dressed up and hired a car or taxi and paraded about a danceclub in the hope someone would choose us. There were no princes then but we still paraded about hoping to be chosen. I hated that scene, flipped the fairytale, and started asking boys out. Waiting around to be chosen is no fairytale. Today, one parades around an app and are chosen or ignored with a swipe.
One of the most interesting parts of the story is the behind-the-doors conflict and competition between the women/girls in the house. Beauty is threatening because, all other things being equal, virtue for one thing, it is beauty that wins out. Or, for Perrault, goodness plus a fairy godmother.
When I was twelve, I played Cinderella in a recital. Prince Charming was a charming young man, a good, tall, handsome boy, but I was in love with one of the other boys, the one who played one of the ugly sisters (yes, drag at the recital). He was ridiculous in his ball gown, but after the ball and the recital I wanted to be noticed by him and not the Prince. It never happened.
Still, this was a fun read! L and I sat by the fire after our Valentine’s Day meal and I asked him to read the Perrault, Grimm, and Strabo versions.
But is it a love story? No. First of all, she doesn’t fall in love; he does. The question is, why did I remember it as the first love story I ever read?