Well, after that nonsensical and insulting detour, we're finally back to fairytales. However, the next choice is also odd, because the story, "Little Man," is a retelling of "Rumpelstiltskin."
Which I never believed had a truly happy ending anyway.
"Rumpelstiltskin" has never been one of my favorite fairytales, because even when I first read it, I just could not buy the happy ending. The milliner's (EDIT: miller's) daughter ended up marrying the villain who kept threatening to kill her if she didn't create gold for him and the one who helped her, thus saving her life, was turned into the villain and tore himself up at the end. Even when I was a kid, it just didn't seem right or fair to me.
I'm not saying this to toot my own horn. I'm sure that plenty of other kids had problems with the ending too. And I'm sure that plenty of other kids didn't, which is perfectly fine. If people enjoy the fairytale, then more power to them. The reason why I'm bringing this up, though, is that, like "Jack and the Beanstalk", "Rumpelstiltskin" is already a morally ambiguous fairytale. It's not the classic good vs. evil fairytale that the Anonymous Narrator (A.N.) seemed so determined to deride in the prologue. For me, the fairytale already had an unhappy ending, or, at the very least, a bittersweet one. So, what would be the point in trying to make the story darker and more depressing?
Like "Crazy Old Lady", the story is told in second-person perspective. Second-person perspective is a very tricky POV to pull off, which is why most how-to-write books advise novice writers to avoid it. It's direct and confrontational and suggests a kinship with the reader.
And as I go through this story, it won't be difficult to see what kind of kinship the narrator is inviting through the use of this perspective.
The story opens up with an interesting motive for Rumpelstiltskin. Initially, he decides to help the miller's daughter just to help her. But A.N. notes that his deeper motive, his deepest wish, is to have a child of his own. Which is why he will later help the miller's daughter in exchange for her first-born child.
I say that this is interesting because we rarely see children as a motive for male protagonists. Usually, it is female characters who are motivated by the desire to have children or a family. A male character may want to have children as a secondary goal, usually after he's married someone and wants to start a family, but it's rarely his main goal.
So, Rumpelstiltskin desperately wants a child. He also is descended from a long line of minor wizards, rather than being a member of the Fair Folk as he usually is in most versions. A.N. says that he's the first one to be paid for his services because his people believe that taking money from customers will eventually corrupt them and render them dependent on their customers.
However, another interesting change is that Rumpelstiltskin doesn't ask for payment at first. It is the miller's daughter herself who willingly gives him jewels in exchange for helping her. She also does this after he's done making gold.
So, the spinning wheel does not make her fall asleep, as it does in the original fairytale. So...why couldn't she ask Rumpelstiltskin how he spins straw into gold? Why couldn't she learn how to do it?
Oh, wait, I'm sorry, learning how to do things and trying to actively achieve a goal is anathema in this book. That's why the twelfth prince didn't bother to try to fix the swan wing that was giving him trouble, why the giants resorted to deception and inaction instead of trying to save their failing marriage, and why the Whites preferred to ignore their zombie son in favor of whining about their own failing marriage.
And if she learned how to do it herself, then she wouldn't be dependent on Rumpelstiltskin (as I've noted with the original fairytale). A.N. even notes that Rumpelstiltskin secretly relishes the power that he has over her. But don't think that Rumpelstiltskin is taking advantage of her in any way, he truly cares for her - honest!
And you have to feel sorry for him because all his life, he's been rejected because of his looks! Those shallow girls never paid him a second glance, so he's never known love. He's been all alone, which is why he wants a child so desperately. You understand, don't you, misunderstood and rejected men who are reading this book? Rumpelstiltskin is you. You immediately understand his pain because the second-person perspective includes both of you.
Note that A.N. has no sympathy whatsoever for the king, though. For all that A.N. prattled on about how it was only right that fair maidens and noble knights be torn down by demons and witches, he has no interest in humanizing the king, who is basically the villain of the story. A.N. snidely notes that "According to rumor, he was abused by his father, the last king. But that’s the story people always tell, isn’t it, when they want to explain inexplicable behavior?"
So, Rumpelstiltskin is allowed to have a tragic backstory, but the king isn't. There is no attempt to explain his behavior and the one excuse that we could have had is quickly dismissed by A.N. in favor of sneering at people who want to employ a Freudian excuse. But at least a Freudian excuse is something. We get nothing for the king. He's just evil. Which...is what he was in the original fairytale. The one told to children. So...how is this a more mature and grown-up version again?
After the second time that Rumpelstiltskin creates gold, A.N. takes a potshot at fairytales in general by saying that for some reason, the king needs everything in threes, because that's how it usually is in fairytales. I could talk about the symbolic importance of the number three and why a lot of fairytales use it, but A.N. clearly doesn't care, so why should I bother?
When Rumpelstiltskin learns that the king has promised to marry the miller's daughter if she spins gold a third time, he reasonably asks why she plans to do so. Her answer is that she'll be queen. When he presses her again, she says that her father's sick because grain dust gets into his lungs while he works and he'll be able to be tended by the king's physician.
This actually sounds sympathetic and understandable. The miller's daughter is willing to marry a tyrant in order to help her father. Except for one thing.
We never see evidence of her father's sickness. We only have her word that he's sick. When Rumpelstiltskin comes to court later on in the story, he sees her father and there is no indication whatsoever that her father has ever been ill.
So, for all we know, the miller's daughter is lying. Her father isn't sick, she just wants to be queen. And she stupidly doesn't care about what an abhorrent person the king is.
Because women always want the bad boy, right? They never look at you, the poor, ugly, misunderstood, but smart nerd. Even after all you've done for them.
After Rumpelstiltskin makes the miller's daughter pledge her first-born child to him in exchange for his help, he fears that the king will abuse his future child because "don’t men who’ve been abused always do the same to their children?"
First of all, no. Some men do fall into that pattern, but others do not. They do not all abuse their children. And shame on you for propagating that idea, A.N.
Second of all, I thought that the rumor that the king was abused was just that, a rumor. Isn't that why A.N. so easily dismissed it and sneered at people who'd try to use it to explain the king's behavior? Now all of a sudden, it's true? Well, who cares about being consistent, as long as A.N. can bash people. First, people are stupid because they try to understand the root cause of bad behavior, and now the king is stupid because obviously he'll just repeat the pattern like an automaton because he's not a character. He's a caricature of an evil tyrant.
A.N. slips into anachronisms again as he describes the souvenir coffee mugs that Rumpelstiltskin sees after the king marries the miller's daughter. So, this is supposed to be taking place during modern times? I can't see how, what with the king being able to kill people over gold. Or is this supposed to take place in the same setting as that of a "Shrek" film? Where the general setting is Ye Olde Medieval Europe, but there are anachronisms like photographs for comic relief? Even though the reason why "Shrek" has that is that it's a comedy for children, whereas A Wild Swan is not.
After the baby is born, Rumpelstiltskin arrives at court before the king and queen. So, unlike the original fairytale, the king hasn't randomly disappeared into the ether once he's served his narrative purpose as the antagonist. However, he clearly has no idea what's going on and it's made purposely unclear about what the queen tells him (there's a strong implication that she naturally doesn't tell him the whole truth).
Once Rumpelstiltskin sees the queen again, A.N. decides to tell us that he's in love with her. Of course. Because, like the giant's wife in "Jacked," that's totally necessary to the story at this point and it's the only reason why he would want to help her.
But yes, now he's suddenly in love with her. But she's married the mean jock - er, I mean, the mean king, like the shallow, grasping idiot that she is. But don't worry, she's still not safe, for "having produced a male heir she has now, after all, rendered herself dispensable".
Umm, why? Maybe I'm just basing this on Henry VIII and his wives, but wouldn't producing a son make her less dispensable? If she was unable to have a healthy boy (like poor Catherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn were) or was barren all together, the king would have no use for her. Like the original fairytale, it's never stated that he needs her to make gold for him again, so it's not like he's keeping her around for that. Is this A.N.'s attempt to make the queen sympathetic? It's a little too late for that.
Especially when A.N. is more concerned about Rumpelstiltskin's feelings, as he imagines the queen throwing it all away, giving her child to him, and running away to him. Oh, how romantic! How sad! How poignant!
How completely transparent.
The rest of the tale follows the original fairytale. Rumpelstiltskin gives the queen a loophole: guess his name correctly and the deal is off. She does so and he tears himself apart while the king laughs (because, again, he's just supposed to be a psychopath here. Nuance is for nerds). To her credit, the queen tells her guards to carry his two halves out of the room and into the forest. He eventually joins his two halves together by strength of will, but is forever cursed with a split personality, as one half frequently quarrels with the other.
This story reminds me of why I also didn't like Spinners, a retelling of "Rumpelstiltskin" by Donna Jo Napoli. Because the same problems exist here. Everyone is unlikable except the protagonist, nobody learns everything, and it all becomes pointless by the end. "Life stinks and then you die" seems to be the mantra for both. Forgive me if I want more from fairytales than that.