“The Part of Me That’s No Fairy Tale”: Alice Major’s “puce fairy book”


Fairy tales, originally folk tales from the oral tradition, transformed into stories suitable for children only much later, are fabulously entertaining studies of human nature. Fairy tales have a universal appeal; everyone enjoys a good bout of a hero’s journey through an enchanted forest to rescue a princess. I personally love fairy tales. I have some great illustrated versions of the Brothers Grimm, Hans Christian Anderson, and Giambattista Basile’s tales sitting on my bookshelf right now. However, many feminists, scholarly or otherwise, have criticized the role of women in fairy tales, as princesses are often helpless waifs in needs of saving.

Now, if you look more extensively at some of fairy tales (I’m thinking “Viola” from Basile’s The Tale of Tales, or Entertainment for Little Ones), you do find independent women, but for the most part if you are a strong, independent woman in a fairy tale, that probably means you’re an evil witch. Yikes!

Recently, female writers have been crafting revisionist versions of fairy tales, looking at them from a different perspective and challenging the social mores they uphold. Alice Major uses famous fairy tales in her poem “puce fairy book” to challenge the unfair expectations women are held to, especially by men in relationships. I present here the poem, and then an analysis of its meaning and significance:

puce fairy book


you wanted Rapunzel   waiting in a tower

braids of hair like ropes

stairs that only you could climb


my hair would never grow long enough


you wanted a lady   sleeping in a garden

no rings on her fingers

never been kissed


other princes had made it through my forest


so you tried revisionist tale-telling

and turned them into dwarves –

you wanted happy ever after


I forgot to water the roses round the door


I piled up mattresses    to cushion you

but you tossed and turned

bruised by that one small nub


the part of me that is no fairy tale


you brought me a crystal slipper

on a heart-shaped pillow

pretty    but slightly passé


my foot was too big to fit into it


you might have been the one true prince

but on mature consideration

I declined   with thanks   the honour


of cutting off my toe


First, let’s pay attention to the title. Puce is a nasty, reddish-brown, purple kind of colour, and its name is derived from the French “flea.” I probably don’t have to tell you how disgusting it is to associate a colour with a flea. Immediately it puts a bad taste in your mouth. Yes, the colour is purple, which is associated with royalty, but yes, it is a nasty-ass purple, indicating corruption or something being just plain wrong.

Maback of lacy dressjor focuses on a couple different fairy tales throughout the poem, each showing how the speaker is unable to meet the expectations of the “you” she’s addressing (presumably a man). The prince wants some specific things that the woman is unable to deliver such as Rapunzel’s “hair like ropes” (2), Sleeping Beauty having “no rings on her fingers/never been kissed” (5-6) and Cinderella’s dainty foot fitting in the crystal slipper. The reference to having strong, long hair is linked to female sexuality and traditional depictions of women, that show women with luxuriant, long hair. By the speaker’s hair not being “long enough” (4), the suitor is never able to access her sexuality in the way he would like. In contrast, the prince also wants a woman with “no rings” (presumably never been married) and virginal because she’s never been kissed. This brings up the impossible position many women are put in, as for thousands of years, a girl’s virginity has been honoured above all other things about her (apart from perhaps her ability to bear sons), and this is not a perspective society can get rid of at the stroke of midnight like Cinderella’s dress and carriage. Women are supposed to be empowered, confident, assured of themselves sexually, yet at the same time, slut-shaming is a very real thing, and men seem to oscillate between wanting a woman that is pure, yet one that will sexually satisfy him (and yes, I realize “not all men,” but just ride my train of thought as it relates to the poem). Think of Ludacris’s line about how he wants “a lady in the streets, but a freak in the bed.” Women are supposed to be sexual, but not too sexual, because that is threatening. The crystal slipper is an essential part of the poem that I will address later after looking at some of the earlier significant lines.

Like every other person on the planet, the speaker is not without her flaws. She “forgot to water the roses around her door” (12), implying that she did something wrong in the relationship, whether it was lying, cheating, or being distant, or even is guilty of an arbitrary slight that the suitor believes is unacceptable. Up until this point, it is the speaker associated with fairy tale princesses. It is interesting that after the speaker messes up, the suitor is the one who becomes the princess, as there is an allusion to The Princess and the Pea. Even though the speaker “piled up mattresses to cushion you…you tossed and turned” (13-14). This effeminization makes the suitor look absurd and like a prima donna (and let’s be honest, the princess from The Princess and the Pea was the prissiest, most high maintenance person ever).

The speaker admits, “other princes have made it through my forest” (8) (and yes, if you think that’s innuendo, you would be correct), but the would-be suitor reimagines them as dwarves to downplay the speaker’s other relationships. The suitor wants to control and manipulate the speaker, enclosing her within his idea of what she should be as a woman and a lover. The crystal slipper is the symbol representing his traditional viewpoints of relationship, with the woman being subservient to the man. You can tell that the slipper is supposed to be a “normal” nuclear relationship because it has all the trimmings of a kitschy Valentine’s Day gift, coming to here on a “heart shaped pillow” (18) despite being “passé” (19). Just as the speaker has failed the suitor’s expectations in other ways throughout the poem, here too her foot is too big to fit inbroken glass shoesto the shoe. This is her moment of power here because she refuses “the honour with thanks/of cutting off my big toe” (23-24). Just as the prince became associated with a princess earlier in the text, the speaker has changed roles too. In the Cinderella fairy tale, one of the stepsisters cuts off her toe in order to fit into the crystal slipper. So desperate is she to be married to a prince that she is willing to mutilate herself to please him and his shoe obsession. This hearkens to mind Chinese foot binding (or lotus feet) as one of the very real examples of how women have suffered to fit an ideal of beauty made by men. The speaker has become a stepsister, she is not even a princess anymore, showing her ultimate refusal to fit into mode of femininity.

Ultimately, Major presents a speaker who has a strong sense of self-worth. Rather than feeling bad about herself for having a part of her that is “no fairy tale,” (16) she rejects the suitor’s demands that she change for him. “puce fairy book” is an interesting take on the expectations we place on one another, the unrealistic pedestals we place others on and the disappointment that can come from that person not meeting our expectations. Using the allusions to traditional fairy tales, Major takes something associated with a universal, common sense kind of sensibility associated with fairy tales and twists it, showing a speaker that does not want to conform to rigid notions of what it means to be a real princess.




Two Views of Poetry Part Two: Lowell’s “Fishnet” and the Poet’s Place in History

fishing nets

“I lie on a bed staring, crossing out, writing in, crossing out what was written in, again and again, through days and weeks. Heavenly hours of absorption and idleness…intuition, intelligence, pursuing my ear that knows not what it says. In time, the fragmentary and scattered limbs become by a wild extended figure of speech, something living…a person.”[i]

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Two Views of Poetry Part One: Wallace Stevens and Robert Lowell

take a bow on stage

Wallace Stevens and Robert Lowell are two modern American poets who share quite a few similarities in their views on the poet and what the poet should be doing when making poetry. Both were writing in the mid-20th century, with Stevens dying in 1955 and Lowell in 1977. They also share the commonality of producing some of their most well-known works later in life. Rather than having a mid-life crisis, these poets had an explosion of creativity and genius that resonates to this day. I’ve been on huge poetry kick lately, so I wanted to take a look at “Of Modern Poetry” by Stevens and “Fishnet” by Lowell as exemplars of their views on what it means to make poetry. I chose these two poems because both use the metaphor of the theatre and the act of performance to ruminate on poetry. Continue reading

“Put Away Childish Things”: Jeffery Donaldson’s “Figurine”

Jeffery Donaldson is exactly how I picture a poet should be. Not one of those tortured, angsty types, unchecked in their spontaneous overflow of powerful emotion and morbidity (you can find some of them skulking about on tumblr), but one who balances piercing intelligence, extensive cultural knowledge, lyricism and emotional depth into his work expertly. If you have an excess of any one of these elements, the poetry can become cold and inaccessible or can overwhelm the reader with unchecked affect or even become plain boring. However, Donaldson performs the balancing act well. In other words, he makes me think thoughts and feel feelings. One of my favourite of his poems is from his latest poetry collection, Slack Action (The Porcupine’s Quill, 2013) about a dollhouse:

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Art, Life, and Legacy in Robert Lowell’s “Marriage”

I am under the impression that life imitates art a great deal more than the reverse. How much of what we say or do is influenced by characters from movies, books, or video games we like and wish to emulate? Next time you have a conversation, pay attention to how much of it is composed of references or quotes. Perhaps in the social circles I travel in this happens more often, but I would say even with the least culturally savvy group of people, it is inevitable that at some point someone might say a line they heard in a movie, or imitate the voice of a TV show character.

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Maintaining Appearances and Encroaching Death in Robert Lowell’s “Terminal Days at Beverly Farms”

American poet, Robert Lowell is one of the frontrunners of the confessional poetry movement that would become popular in the 50s and 60s, a movement that would include others such as Sylvia Plath, Allen Ginsberg, and W.D. Snodgrass. Lowell’s poetry collection Life Studies is one of the first collections to include extensive autobiographical content within his poetry. Every artist takes inspiration from experiences in their lives (you write about what you know after all), but Lowell explicitly infuses facts about himself and his family in discussing broader themes concerning human nature. This is unlike other poets I’ve discussed in this blog, such as Wallace Stevens or Robert Frost, whose writing is much more allegorical. I wanted to look at the poem “Terminal Days at Beverly Farms” from Life Studies, a touching poem on the decline of his father. “Terminal Days” grapples with the theme of death and the ways that people face the inevitable. Although meditation on death is a far-reaching, philosophical theme, Lowell explores the topic through the personal and mundane. Lowell uses autobiographical information describing his father’s last days and his father’s refusal to acknowledge death up until the very end of his life. I’ll show you the poem below, and then give a very brief analysis (no need to get too heavy, the topic of death needs no help on that front): Continue reading

Can’t One Life Be Enough?: Wallace Stevens’s Celebration of Mortality in “The River of Rivers in Connecticut”

Although it is becoming more acceptable to be openly atheist, there is still a fair amount of prejudice directed at this population. In at least certain parts of the world there isn’t any Inquisition-like persecution, but atheists still get a lot of hate dumped on them for various reasons. One such complaint is that atheism is immensely depressing: life is all there is and then that’s it. There is no heaven or nirvana to imagine, there is no opportunity to continue on the wheel of samsara, you are simply finished. And apparently for some atheists the best way to spend the only life you get is to post on forums making fun of religious fundamentalists and compiling an expansive fedora collection that will clash nicely with their short-sleeved button down Hawaiian and/or flame patterned shirts. But for others the idea that this is the only life you get is incredibly exciting! Much of what we find beautiful is temporary, think for example of the brief, happy life of the Monarch butterflies. We are drawn to their fragility. Just because there is nothing beyond the eighty-odd years you get on the planet does not discount the richness of experiences you can potentially have here. Continue reading