We live in a world of juxtapositions - although beautiful, the Earth is plagued by ugliness. We may be surrounded by birth and growth, but death and deterioration journey hand in hand.
At the same time, kindness, happiness, and love fill our senses with possibilities. Still, these are accompanied by clouded shadows - evil, misery and hatred lurking in corners waiting to taint gaiety with gloom.
As a teacher, I often ponder how ready children are for transition: to school, to Senior school, to the teenage years, and beyond.
I look at literature throughout the ages, debating its purpose and impact over time. I look to the didactic materials of days gone by - clearly a scare tactic for these poor children shaking in their boots! See this poem, for example, taken from the Struwwelpeter (a very famous German collection of ten poems primarily written in iambic tetrameter couplets):
"The whole child is on fire!
Me-ow! me-oh! me-ow! me-oh!
Help! the child has set herself on fire!"
All is burnt, whole and quite,
The poor child, with her skin and hair;
Only a handful of ash remains,
And both shoes, pretty and fine."
Having children myself, I know that poems and prose of this nature definitely do not help children get to sleep—neither do they prepare them for what life has to throw at them.
Instead, I look to fairytales.
When I say fairytales, I'm not talking about those Disneyfied monstrosities - oh no! I'm talking about the terrifying tales of Charles Perrault, the terrifying works of the Brothers Grimm, the dastardly narratives written by Hans Christian Andersen – you know – the version of The Little Mermaid where Ariel throws herself into the ocean and turns into sea foam? Or how about the version of Cinderella where the stepsisters have their eyes pecked out and must live as blind beggars? Sound familiar?
Despite the gore, despite the cruelty (the stepmother in Snow White was actually her birth mother and demanded not only her daughter's heart but lungs and liver for dinner that night!), there are real-life lessons to be learned here. After all, there is some truth in every tale ever told – Gaiman wrote in American Gods, "I can believe things that are true and things that aren't true, and I can believe things where nobody knows if they're true or not." And by putting these all-important life lessons alongside tales of mermaids, seven cohabitating dwarves, dragons, witches and cauldrons alongside those didactic messages.
Fairytales put the world into black and white – into categories of good and evil – and both are easily identifiable – the good are satisfyingly good; the evil, auspiciously evil. By reading about these characters, children are able to identify with aspects of the good; they are able to direct anger or aggression towards the evil and, thus, come into contact with the darkness of the world and healthily direct their feelings and additionally, to learn the most important of virtues to a developing child – hope.
G.K. Chesterton wrote, "Fairy tales do not tell children the dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children that dragons can be killed." The broader message is that even though dragons are large and scary, they can be defeated. And, yes, I know that dragons exist – but to me, dragons signify the horrors of life – the bogeyman, the tax man, the hard times, the poor, the frail, the ignored… and these tales teach us how to deal with the issues that come up day to day. They connect to our lives, dreams, and overwhelming anxieties and provide us with a platform to step into their shoes or take the experiences of these characters and learn vicariously through their failures and successes.
Fairytales allow us to face these real-life problems in a fantastical setting; the hero often prevails. It is a safe environment for children to face the evils of life – no one journeys through life without facing, and no one is immune from problems – these stories help build emotional resiliency, an idea of consequence and capacity in our children. These skills teach them how to hold on and cope during tough times; they make them stronger, more durable, and more likely to recover from these setbacks faster.
As a secondary English teacher, fairytales are paramount to my Year 7 teaching (Myths and Legends), which teaches the basics of storytelling. We use a range of these to explore setting, character, and structure and develop prediction and comprehension skills. In addition to these specific skills tailored to English, there are all essential critical thinking skills: by exposing students to these stories, posing well-thought-out questions, and directing conversation, more can be done to exercise those brain muscles, guiding children towards those higher-level thinking skills.
Finally, these stories really help develop and nurture a child's imagination. "Logic will get you from point A to point B. Imagination… will take you everywhere else," said Albert Einstein.
We live in a world of juxtapositions - although beautiful, the Earth is plagued by ugliness. We may be surrounded by birth and growth, but death and deterioration journey hand in hand.
But, by being prepared and learning how to deal with life's challenges from the safety of a few hundred pages bound in leather, it makes us happier individuals, more creative, more resilient, and more likely to succeed.
Put down the Axel Shaffer for the night, leave Rowling on the bookcase, and give Greg Heffley the evening off. Dust off your beautifully illustrated fairytales gifted by that elderly family member because we still have so much to learn.
This is why I fell in love with the written word and storytelling when I was young. It was because of fantastical and fabulously amazing English teachers like you!
I was very lucky to have two, one at secondary school and one at college. The one at secondary school brought the written word alive for me. I couldn't believe it when other students appeared not to be as engaged as I was; particularly when he would get into character - if the part he was reading required a certain emotion such as sadness with tears, that's what he'd give us. I was captivated.
My college teacher was so imaginative with his assignment setting. I almost exploded with excitement when after reading 'Brighton Rock' over some weeks, the assignment was to write our own final chapter. I lost myself in that one, however to my 17 year old embarrassment and horror at the time, he read my finished chapter out to the class as he was so taken by it!
This was a really interesting read. I picked up Revolting Rhymes the other day for myself as i remembered how thrilled i was by its rhymes (and possibly also the brilliant telling by the teacher i had).. but had never read them as an adult. Now with a 2 year old I was curious when something like that would be apt... Not for a while... Roald Dahl was irreverent in his unforgivably modern and slapstick retelling, so its not quite Brothers Grimm I admit... It has all of the harsh cruelty of life that the originals told and then the perverse darkness of modern life thrown on top. I guffawed at some of the lines that were right on the edge, and these days you'd probably be fired for reading to kids. But its still refreshing to see the stories told hard and true. Picking the right time and ensuring that the child understands the fantasy and asks the right questions afterwards must be key.. I love that my daughter is focussed on books rather than TV and perhaps the fairly tales of old will teach her more than any sanitised cartoon or fetching advertisement.
Great read. Thanks for writing and sharing your insights. !