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Boyana:
 








Little Red Riding Hood - A Politically Correct Fairy Tale



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by Jim Garner

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There once was a young person named Red Riding Hood who lived with her mother on the edge of a large wood. One day her mother asked her to take a basket of fresh fruit and mineral water to her grandmother's house -- not because this was womyn's work, mind you, but because the deed was generous and helped engender a feeling of community. Furthermore, her grandmother was not sick, but rather was in full physical and mental health and was fully capable of taking care of herself as a mature adult.

So Red Riding Hood set off with her basket of food through the woods. Many people she knew believed that the forest was a foreboding and dangerous place and never set foot in it. Red Riding Hood, however, was confident...

On her way to Grandma's house, Red Riding Hood was accosted by a Wolf, who asked her what was in her basket. She replied, "Some healthful snacks for my grandmother, who is certainly capable of taking care of herself as a mature adult."

The Wolf said, "You know, my dear, it isn't safe for a little girl to walk through these woods alone."

Red Riding Hood said, "I find your sexist remark offensive in the extreme, but I will ignore it because of your traditional status as an outcast from society, the stress of which has caused you to develop your own, entirely valid worldview. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be on my way."

Red Riding Hood walked on along the main path. But, because his status outside society had freed him from slavish adherence to linear, Western-style thought, the Wolf knew of a quicker route to Grandma's house. He burst into the house and ate Grandma, an entirely valid course of action for a carnivore such as himself. Then, unhampered by rigid, traditionalist notions of what was masculine or feminine, he put on grandma's nightclothes and crawled into bed.

Red Riding Hood entered the cottage and said, "Grandma, I have brought you some fat-free, sodium-free snacks to salute you in your role of a wise and nurturing matriarch."

From the bed, the Wolf said softly, "Come closer, child, so that I might see you."

Red Riding Hood said, "Oh, I forgot you are as optically challenged as a bat. Grandma, what big eyes you have!"

"They have seen much, and forgiven much, my dear."

"Grandma, what a big nose you have -- only relatively, of course, and certainly attractive in its own way."

"It has smelled much, and forgiven much, my dear."

"Grandma, what big teeth you have!"

The Wolf said, "I am happy with and what I am," and leaped out of bed. He grabbed Red Riding Hood in his claws, intent on devouring her. Red Riding Hood screamed, not out of alarm at the Wolf's apparent tendency toward cross-dressing, but because of his willful invasion of her personal space.

Her screams were heard by a passing woodchopper-person (or log-fuel technician, as he preferred to be called). When he burst into the cottage, he saw the melee and tried to intervene. But as he raised his ax, Red Riding and the Wolf both stopped.

"And what do you think you're doing?" asked Red Riding Hood.

The woodchopper-person blinked and tried to answer, but no words came to him.

"Bursting in here like a Neanderthal, trusting your weapon to do your thinking for you!" she said. "Sexist! Speciesist! How dare you assume that womyn and wolves can't solve their own problems without a man's help!"

When she heard Red Riding Hood's speech, Grandma jumped out of the mouth, took the woodchopper-person's axe, and cut his head off. After this ordeal, Red Riding Hood, Grandma, and the Wolf felt a certain commonality of purpose. They decided to set up an alternative household based on mutual respect and cooperation, and they lived together in the woods happily ever after.

originally appeared in "Comic Relief" April, 1993

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Boyana:
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SpecBlogs NewsroomCommentariatSpectacleDarkroomEditors Notes     « previous postnext post »Once Upon a Retelling: Politically Correct Bedtime Stories by James Finn Garner
share thisThis collection of fairy tales retold in all its politically correct glory, at first refreshing, quickly gets old and cumbersome to read. More of a statement on society’s struggle for politically correctness than creativity, but still original and worth a look.
The short story collection starts out strong with “Little Red Riding Hood”, and one quickly learns what the writer plans to do to every story. Red Riding Hood is not bringing fresh fruit and “mineral water” to her grandmother because it is woman’s work, but because she and her mother are generous and the deed would “engender a feeling of community”. Furthermore, the grandmother is not sick and can take care of herself as a mature adult. When the wolf tells Red Riding Hood that “it isn’t safe for a little girl to walk through these woods alone,” she replies

I find your sexist remark offensive in the extreme, but I will ignore it because of your traditional status as an outcast from society, the stress of which has caused you to develop your own, entirely valid, worldview.

All right then! When I first encountered this, I thought it was clever and witty. Then after I finished the twelve stories in the collection, I felt it was tiresome and lacked the original spark.

The next story, “The Emperor’s New Clothes”, ends with an embrace of alternative lifestyles, namely, nudist.

“The Three Little Pigs” was entertaining with its overtones of imperialism. I would have said it feels like a comment on the present day conflicts, if this book hadn’t been published in 1994. The last sentence feels relevant today:

Then the pigs set up a model socialist democracy with free education, universal health care, and affordable housing for everyone.

Isn’t that better than a “and they lived happily ever after”?

“Rumpelstiltskin” is enjoyable in its way of turning straw into gold (though time gets a little hazy) and what the princess does after the tale.

“The Three Codependent Goats Gruff” felt long winded and the characters changed mid-story. This, “Chicken Little”, and the last story, “The Pied Piper of Hamelin”, were the weakest stories of the collection.

“Rapunzel”’s ending is the only moderately worthwhile portion of the story as the rest of the story follows the fairy tale fairly faithfully (just add a record deal).

“Cinderella” serves a wonderful punch to fashion, though I was amazed there wasn’t a politically correct statement stating that there was nothing wrong with cross dressing. Perhaps nudity’s ok, but gender bending isn’t.

“Goldilocks” is a weak attempt at changing the fairy tale by making Goldilocks into a rogue biologist and while the story has been changed, I couldn’t say it’s better than Willingham’s Goldilocks (interspecies love anyone?).

“Snow White” takes a very ‘ick’ adult turn half way through the ‘feel good’ story, nearly becoming the original version. What was a lecture from Snow White to her stepmother about how to be a beautiful person on the outside, turns into a disgusting prince attempting to rape Snow White while she lies in a dead-like state. (In the original version, she doesn’t wake to a prince’s kiss, but to the labor pains of her twins.)

“The Frog Prince”’s ending is a violent gem with an environmental message that doesn’t feel like it’s crammed down your throat.

Unless it wasn’t obvious, this book is not for reading to the little ones. While “Rapunzel’s Revenge” and “Beauty” are suitable for younger readers, the rest of the books in this reviewed series are meant for more mature readers.

The One and Only Mo:
 ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D

Hilarious.

Boyana:
Snow White--Politically Correct
Once there was a young princess who was not at all unpleasant to look at and had a temperament that many found to be more pleasant than most other people’s. Her nickname was Snow White. After her mother’s death, her father, the king asked another wommon to be his queen. Snow white did her best to please her new mother-of step, but a cold distance remained between them.

The queen’s prized possession was a magic mirror that would answer truthfully any question asked it. Now, years of social conditioning in a male hierarchial dictatorship had left the queen very insecure about her own self-worth. Physical beauty was the one standard she cared about now, and she defined herself solely in regard to her personal appearance. So every morning the queen would ask the mirror:


Mirror, mirror, on the wall, Who’s the fairest one of all?”
Her mirror would anwer:


“For all it’s worth, O my queen, Your beauty is the fairest to be seen.”
That dialogue went on regularly until once when the queen was having a bad hair day and was desperately in need of support, she asked the usual question and the mirror answered:


“Alas, if worth be based on beauty, Snow White has surpassed you, cutie.”
At this, the queen flew into a rage. She ordered the royal woodsperson to take Snow White into the forest and kill her. The woodsperson, a kind soul, sadly agreed to these orders, and led the girl, who was actually now a young wommon, into the middle of the forest. He told Snow White of the oppressive and unsisterly order of the queen and told her to run as deeply as she could into the forest.

Snow White ran deep into the woods. Just when she thought she had fled as far as she could form civilization and its unhealthy influences, she stumbled upon a cottage. Inside she saw seven tiny beds, set in a row and all unmade. The beds looked so inviting that the tired youngster curled up on one and immediately fell asleep.

When she awoke several hours later, she saw the faces of seven bearded, vertically challenged men surrounding the bed. She sat up with a start and gasped. One of the men said, “You see that? Just like a flighty woman: resting peacefully one minute, up and screaming the next.”

When Snow White finally regained her senses, she begged, “Please, please don’t kill me. I meant no harm by sleeping on your bed. I thought no one would ever notice.”

“Don’t try to play victim with us, kid!” Snarled one man.

“Yes, we are known as the seven towering giants!” cried another, “And we are dedicated stewards of the earth and live here in harmony with nature. To make ends meet, we also conduct retreats who need to get in touch with their primitive masculine idnetities.”

“So what does that involve,” asked Snow White, “aside from drinking milk straight from the carton?”

“Your sarcasm is ill-advised,” warned the leader of the Seven Towering Giants. “My fellow giants want to get rid of our corrupting feminine presence, and I might not be able to stop them, understand? My men, we must speak our hearts openly and honestly. Let us adjourn to the sweat lodge!”


Meanwhile, back at the castle, the queen rejoiced at the thought that her rival in beauty had been eliminated. She puttered around her boudoir reading Elle and Glamour, and indulged herself with three whole pieces of chocolate without purging. Later, she confidently strolled up to her magic mirro and asked her same, sad question:


“Mirror, mirror, on the wall, Who’s the fairest one of all?”
The mirror replied,


“Your weight is perfect for your shape and height, But for sheer OOOOMPH!, you can’t beat Snow White.”
At this news, the queen clenched her fists and screamed at the top of her lungs. For years, her insecurities had been eating away at her until now they turned her into someone who was morally out of the mainstream. With cunning and malice, she began to devise a plan to ensure the nonviability of her daughter-of-step.

A few days later, there was a knock on the door of the cottage. Snow White opened the door to find a chronologically giften woman with a basket in her hand. By the look of her clothes, she was apparently unfettered by the confines of regular employment.

“Help a woman of unreliable income, dearie,” she said, “and buy one of my apples.”

Snow White thought for a moment. In protest against agribusiness conglomerates, she had a personal rule against buying food from middlepersons. but her heart went out to the economically marginalized woman, so she said yes. Little did she know this apple was poisoned.

The queen burst into tears.

“Why, what’s the matter?” asked Snow White.

“You’re so young and beautiful.” sobbed the queen. “How do you stay in such perfect shape?”

“Well, I meditate, work out in step aerobics three hours a day, and eat only half-portions of anything placed in front of me. Would youlike me to show you?”

“Oh, yes, yes, please,” said the queen. So they started out with 30 minutes of simple hatha yoga meditation, then worked out on step for another hour. As they relaxed afterward, Snow White cut her apple in half and gave a piece to the queen. Without thinking, the queen bit into it, and both of them fell into a deep sleep.

Later that day, the Seven Towering Giants returned from a retreat in the woods, elaborately decked out in animal skins, feathers, and mud. With them was a prince from a nearby kingdom, who had come on this male retreat to find a cure for his impotence (or, as he preferred to call it, his involuntary suspension from phallocentric activity.) They were all laughing and high-fiving until they saw the bodies stopped short.

“What has happened?” asked the prince.

“Apparently our house guest and this other woman got into some sort of catfight and killed each other,” surmised one giant.

“You know,” said the prince, “this might sound a little sick, but I trust you guys. I find that younger one attractive. Extremely attracitive. Would you fellows mind...um...waiting outside while I...?”

“Stop right there!” said the leader of the giants. “These half-eaten apple pieces, that filthy-costume--this has all the earmarks of some sort of magic spell. They’re not really dead at all.”

“Whew,” sighed the prince, “that makes me feel better. So, could you guys take five and let me...?”

“Hold it, Prince,” said the leader. “Does Snow White make you feel like a man again?”

“She certainly does. Now, could you guys...?”

“Don’t touch her! You’ll break the spell.”

Then the pieces of poisoned apple fell from the mouths of Snow White and the queen, and they awoke from the spell.

“What do you think you’re doing? Put us down!” they shouted. The giants were so startled they almost dropped the womyn to the floor.

“That’s the most sickening thing I have ever heard!” shouted the queen. “Offering us around like pieces of property!”

“And you,” said Snow White to the prince, “trying to make it with a girl in a coma! Yuck!”

There was much shouting and name-calling, but the queen eventually had her way. Before the Seven Towering Giants could be evicted from their home, though, they packed up their sweat lodge and moved deeper into the woods. The prince stayed on at the spa as a cute but harmless tennis pro. And Snow White and the queen became good friends and earned world-wide fame for their contributions to sisterhood. The giants were never heard from again, save for little muddy gootprints that were sometimes found in the morning outside the windows of the spa’s locker room.

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The One and Only Mo:
 ;D ;D ;D  Brilliant.

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