by Janis Patterson
I don’t suppose there’s a one of us unfamiliar with the
story of Cinderella – the rightful heiress to her papa’s wealth and mistreated
stepchild of her father’s second wife and her ugly daughters who ended up
marrying the Handsome Prince. It’s a fairy tale that has – in one form or
another – enchanted millennia of little girls.
And has also been one of the worst role models for little
girls ever written.
I can already hear the outraged cries of those who love
Cinderella – and I love her too, but that doesn’t stop me from being honest.
Think about it. She is quiet, obedient, unfailingly kind to the step-family
that mistreats and abuses her and works unquestioningly like a slavey. She
shows no spine or protest or anything – she is a doormat. Her only reaction to
this grossly unfair situation is to weep as she sits in the kitchen fireplace
trying to keep warm.
But it’s worth it, her fans cry. She ends up marrying the
Prince.
Agreed – but through no action of her own. She just allows
things to happen to her. In the commonly accepted versions, the mice and birds
help her and the Fairy Godmother provides everything else. Dear little Cindi is
acted on, but never acting, simply trusting to others to make things right for
her. Hardly a good role model for anyone.
Yet the archetype persists – good girls win by doing
nothing. Good girls win by being sweet. Good girls win by being passive. Thank
goodness this view of womanhood is changing. I do believe in good manners and
good behavior (but not to the extent of extreme doormattishness). I applaud
some of the strong, self-responsible heroines who get into messes and pretty
much get themselves out. I even like some of the kick-ass heroines who belong
to the FBI or CIA or fight their way to their goal – to a point. Some are
undeniably vulgar and some – to my mind – are downright psychotic. These are as
bad in their own way as Cindi is in hers. Extremes are never good.
So what got me started on this rant? I was reading a book,
or trying to, and it kept ending up against the wall. Three times. I try to
give writers some wiggle room, so I kept trying. I have officially given up.
The heroine is a Mary Sue. She is just too totally perfect.
She’s gorgeous, but of course doesn’t realize it. She speaks several languages
fluently and knows everything from how to bake a cake from scratch to how to
field-strip a 50mm rapid fire gun. She is unfallably kind, thinks of everyone
else before herself and holds only the most politically correct ideas. She would never dream of holding a grudge or creating a scene or demanding anything. Everyone
she meets loves her, in fact the villain hates her only because she won’t love
him back with equal fervor.
In other words, she is a complete bore. I’ve seen paper
dolls with more believability than this creature. There is no depth, no touch
of real humanity in her. (And guys, this is not a purely feminine thing. There
are plenty of books in which the male protagonist is just as revoltingly,
boringly perfect.)
There is a place for fairy tales; they are part of the
archetypes of our culture, but as a people we must progress beyond such animate
homilies into the world of real (albeit fictional) people. If we are to make
our characters real, if the people we make are to resonate with readers, they
must be human. Perhaps a little prettier, a little smarter, possessed of a
wider range of knowledge, but still with recognizably human foibles and flaws. Perfection
is boring.
