A Pinocchio Tale That Isn’t Wooden

A Pinocchio Tale That Isn’t Wooden

A Pinocchio Tale That Isn’t Wooden

A review of Charlie Petch’s Daughter of Geppetto.
By Derek Newman-Stille

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In their performance “Daughter of Geppetto”, Charlie Petch takes the fundamental idea of Pinocchio – “I want to be a real boy” – and turns it into a Trans tale, asking questions about what “real boy” means and the questions this poses about gender and performance.

Petch performs a one-person play, using multiple media including a sound board that lets them echo sounds and play with soundscapes to provide context for their act of storytelling, music performed by Petch, and shadow puppetry to invite the audience to think about ideas of echoed voices, overlapping waves of sound and the idea of puppetry itself (since Pinocchio is, ultimately, a puppet). Petch brings attention to the ways that theatre is made and the theatricality of theatre, breaking down the boundaries between audience and stage. They invite their audience to think about performance itself and the ways that we perform our identities off stage, pointing to the scripted way that we express gender in our society.

Like much of Petch’s work, “Daughter of Geppetto” defies simple categorization, encompassing theatrical performance, puppetry, musical performance, spoken word poetry, and fairy tale.

“Daughter of Geppetto” illustrates the craving and need for fairy tales in the Trans community and the power that fairy tales have to shift and change and adapt to new voices. For a community that is constantly being told about tradition and that we don’t fit into tradition, the idea of adapting fairy tale traditions for the Trans community is important because we need these stories. We need to play with our fairy tales and see ourselves in and through them.

“Daughter of Geppetto” is a powerful, evocative, and, yes, transformative tale. It is beautifully dark while also delightfully light and playful. It is new and innovative while also playing with and illustrating the magic of traditional tales.

 

To find out more about Charlie Petch, visit their website at http://www.charliecpetch.com

Check out a trailer for “Daughter of Geppetto” here https://youtu.be/YYt5NHfYB_U

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Telling Silences

Telling Silences

Telling Silences

A review of Margaret Yocom KIN S FUR (Deerbrook Editions, 2018)

By Derek Newman-Stille

Margaret Yocom was the person who first introduced me to erasure poetry, so I am extremely excited that her erasure poem KIN S FUR has been published. KIN S FUR transforms the fairy tale All Kinds of Fur, revealing the voice of the daughter between the lines, in that interstitial space where ideas are formed. Yocom sorts through words, sifting them until she finds the silenced voice within the fairy tale.

Fairy tales have power and part of their power is their ability to adapt, to transform, to shift and change, and Yocom combines the metamorphosing power of these tales with the transformative quality of erasure poetry. Yocom searches through the fairy tale All Kinds of Fur to find what is left unspoken and devoiced and she finds that voice at the margins, hidden within the words fo the fairy tale and pulls these words to the surface, casting her own spell of discovery over the text.

Yocom brings up the voices of women, highlighting words like wife, daughter, mother, she, and her, focussing the reader’s attention on the role of women and their significance to fairy tales (even ones like All Kinds of Fur where female characters remain unspoken). Yocom proves that even the seemingly silent speaks and that sometimes the oppressed speak their strongest through silence.

To discover more about Margaret Yocom, visit https://margaretyocom.com

To find out more about KIN S FUR, visit http://www.deerbrookeditions.com/kin-s-fur/

Island Resistance

Island Resistance

Island Resistance

A Review of Melissa de la Cruz’ “The Isle of the Lost” (Disney Enterprises Inc, 2015)

By Derek Newman-Stille

Although The Isle of the Lost is part of Walt Disney Studios’ Descendants franchise, there are elements of the book that allow for a counter-hegemonic readings. De La Cruz highlights the potential dangers of a kingdom that pushes its particular brand of “good” on everyone and exiles anyone who is against the norm to an island prison.

The Descendants franchise focusses on the children of the Disney villains, particularly emphasizing characters Mal (daughter of Maleficent), Evie (daughter of the Evil Queen), Jay (son of Jafar), and Carlos (son of Cruella De Vil). In the franchise, the Beast from Beauty and the Beast has united all of the different Disney movie kingdoms into one united community and all of them have exiled their villains to an island called The Isle of the Lost, where not only are the villains imprisoned, but also their children. The Descendants film portrayed Ben, the son of Beauty and the Beast deciding that he wanted to allow Mal, Evie, Jay, and Carlos to come to the exclusive prep school for all of the royalty of the Disney films. They are separated from all of the other children on the island who are left there still and they are taken to Auradon Prep where they eventually decide to become good.

Melissa de la Cruz’ The Isle of the Lost is a prequel to the Descendants film portraying the lives of the characters on the Isle of the Lost before Ben brings them to Auradon. The novel features Mal, Evie, Jay, and Carlos trying to live up to their parents’ expectations, always feeling like failures in the eyes of their parents for not being able to live up to the evil destinies their parents want for them. The novel centralizes ideas of isolation in families, illustrating characters who feel so trapped in their destinies that they can’t connect with others. Even Ben is unable to escape from his destiny to be king, which has trapped him in a narrative that makes him believe that he needs to be exactly like his father, the Beast.

While Mal, Evie, Jay, and Carlos question their narrative of evil, they also critique the actions of the “good” community of Auradon, pointing out the issues with the control enforced from this mainland community. Auradon forces the residents of the island to watch propaganda as their only TV channel, constantly being bombarded with images of how good things are in Auradon and how terrible it is not to have the privileges of Auradon. The island only receives the garbage from Auradon to survive off of, living on the remains and waste of the mainland. This narrative allows for an Island Studies reading, portraying an island as a place dependent upon a mainland while also locked into a constant pattern of similitude. The mainland also exerts its power over the island as a dependent, pushing their narrative onto island culture. But the island also exerts its counter narrative, resisting mainland control and making its own narrative.

The island narrative is paralleled with the narrative of youth. Youth, like the Island of the Lost are portrayed as resisting the control of a larger power structure (in this case, their parents and ideas of destiny). The island is also codified as loneliness and the youth are portrayed as relating to each other through a shared loneliness, an isolation that comes from the notion that islands are lonely places. Characters and the island both resist hegemonic power imposed from without, resisting not just exertion of power, but also resisting the writing of a narrative over their own destiny.

Readers are given a glimpse into the power structures of the mainland when given flashes of Ben trying to rule and perpetuating the union-busting of his father (upon the former sidekick figures). Readers are able to see that “good” is controlled by a central authority that puts certain people with certain pasts into positions of power. Magic is strongly discouraged in Auradon, meaning that they have had to shift a lot of cultural expectations and their lifestyles.

The Isle of the Lost is a narrative of change and resistance, a counter-hegemonic voice for Disney’s far to easy binary of good/evil.

To discover more about Melissa de la Cruz, visit http://melissa-delacruz.com .

To find out more about The Isle of the Lost, visit http://books.disney.com/book/the-isle-of-the-lost/

The Snow Queen’s Son

The Snow Queen’s Son
By Derek Newman-Stille

The Snow Queen’s son
paints frost on the windows,
ferns that speak of his love of summer,
sketching a world he can no longer belong to.

He pulls
the shard of ice from his heart,
blue with blood,
touching it to the window pane
  Pain
and tracing his art onto the window,
wanting to hide the interior of a warm home
too reminiscent of his loss
a reminder of his exile.

He blows the snow
back and forth
knowing that any of his art
is impermanent
defrosting
into nothingness.

He buries everything in snow
wanting to bury himself,
his feelings,
the grass and weeds and flowers
hidden from his own sight

He is shaped by the cold,
shaping it in turn,
building on the cold by wanting to taste the warmth
every kiss on the face of warm lives
leaves a bitter chill,
vampirically consumes the heat
but leaves nothing of it in his body.
  Impermanent.
    Always waning.

Leaving him hungry
like the wind is hungry
  like the snow is hungry
    like the ice is hungry
leaving emptiness inside of each flake.

The Snow Queen’s son
sees in mirrored gaze
  Glaze
always reflective
and never complete
refracting infinitely
so he only sees himself

Accessing The Mermaid

Accessing The Mermaid

Accessing the MermaidA review of Angeline Woon’s “The Mermaid and the Prince of Dirt” in Those Who Make Us: Canadian Creature, Myth, and Monster Stories, edited by Kaitlin Tremblay and Kelsi Morris (Exile, 2016)
By Derek Newman-Stille

In “The Mermaid and the Prince of Dirt”, Angeline Woon takes the exploration of essential otherness in Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Little Mermaid” and reworks it into a tale of disability and trying to fit into a world that actively prevents spaces of accommodation. The Little Mermaid was already a tale about ideas of belonging and spaces that prevented access, but Woon’s reimagining of the tale focuses on the way that our social and physical environments are made to exclude and reject certain bodies. 

Woon’s narrator is a mermaid who sought the land not due to her obsession over a human prince, but because she wanted to escape the control of her older sisters who regularly made decisions for her. As a mermaid, she already felt like an outsider. Annalee seeks out a witch who can give her access to the surface world and, like the mermaid in Andersen’s tale, Annalee gives her voice in order to gain the ability to walk on the surface world.

Annalee doesn’t rankle at her loss of voice and finds that as long as she can move and dance, she can express herself, but her sisters view her as incomplete without having a voice and decide that she can’t be complete unless she has one, so they unilaterally make the decision to trade with the witch to get Annalee’s voice back. The witch decides to take away most of Annalee’s legs as part of the bargain and Annalee becomes a wheelchair user. Decisions over her body are still being made by her sisters and she is assumed incapable of making her own decisions.

Rather than seeking a prince, Annalee finds Liam, a person who experiences mental health issues, but is also willing to believe her when she says that she is a mermaid, which most people refuse to do. Although Liam doesn’t come from noble blood, he is a prince to Annalee because he is one of the few people who is willing to make spaces accessible to her body. 

Woon’s reworking of The Little Mermaid becomes social commentary, bringing attention to the way that accessibility is still not a priority for most people, issues with government financial assistance (both the lack of it, and the constant requirement to prove disability), and the willingness and readiness of our society to assume the worst of people experiencing mental illness. 

To discover more about Those Who Make Us, visit https://thosewhomakeus.wordpress.com and http://www.exileeditions.com/shop/those-who-make-us-the-exile-book-of-anthology-series-number-thirteen/

To discover more about Angeline Woon, visit https://angelinewoon.wordpress.com

Under the Slippers

Under the Slippers

A review of Sarah Pinborough’s Charm: A Wicked Cinderella Tale (Titan Books, 2015)
By Derek Newman-Stille

What does it mean to live your whole life imagining court life and fantasizing about princes and castles only to be offered everything you’ve always wanted? What does it mean to grow up in a household where your stepmother and stepsisters come from noble bloodlines but you come from more humble origins? Is beauty or noble blood more important?

Sarah Pinborough’s Charm transforms the quintessential Love at First Sight story into a gothic romance, populated with hidden truths, secrecy, locked doors with hidden keys, curiosity, jealousy, dusty old turrets, and dark corridors hung with cobwebs. Pinborough explores the darker side of Cinderella, warning her readers of the danger of getting everything you wish for and pointing out that sometimes the dream is better than the reality you dream of. 

Pinborough highlights the potential problems of Cinderella’s magic slippers, pointing out the issues of consent for a Prince who has been forced by magic to fall in love with a woman that he couldn’t even recognize outside of her slippers. She asks what happens when the slippers come off and the prince goes back to his non-spell-addled self. Court life isn’t the dream that Cinderella imagined and full of a lot more darkness than she had envisioned. Just like her slippers, Cinderella is about to discover that her imagined perfect life is nothing more than outer dressings.

To discover more about Sarah Pinborough, visit https://sarahpinborough.com/

An Interview with Theodora Goss

Through the Twisted Woods interviews fiction writer, folklorist, and academic Theodora Goss about the nature of fairy tales, the power of fairy tale revisions, the pedagogical value of fairy tales, and the ability of fairy tales to shift and change to explore new ideas and issues at different periods in time.

 

Through The Twisted Woods Audio

 

You can visit Theodora Goss‘ website at https://theodoragoss.com/

To find out more about the work of the interviewer, Derek Newman-Stille, you can visit his website Speculating Canada at http://www.speculatingcanada.ca