#bluebeard variations

[adarkrainbow]

Cover for "Three tales of Blue Beard", a French children book collecting three variations of the Blue Beard tale.

The original written by Charles Perrault, about a newly-wed's curiosity leading to a bloody discovery... The Jerusalem folktale of Abu Freywar about a girl discovering her father married her to a man-eating ghul... And the Scottish story "The Grey Horse" about a girl ending as the prisoner-fiancee of a supernatural horse in an attempt to protect her mother's cabbage patch.

...

That's Scottish fairytales for you.

[adarkrainbow]

I am happy to have contributed if even just a little :3

Oh you forgot to add that according to the book, this version was a mix of Perrault's own Bluebeard with a Spanish fairytale called "The small door".

Bluebeard

by Bruno de La Salle

If you love fairy tales, you need a French friend. I read this version of Bluebeard when I was a child. It stuck with me, because in this version, there’s a dark, melancholic, and dream-like romance between the protagonist and the titular Bluebeard, here reimagined as a prince cursed into being a giant.

But I could never find this book again.

My good friend @adarkrainbow helped me find it and I will forever be thankful to him.

@ariel-seagull-wings , this is the Bluebeard I talked about. A Bluebeard tale that is also a mix between Beauty and the Beast and Prince Lindworm.

"Curse, curses, Spells, imprecations: Words of blood, words of lead."

There had been a curse and no one knew why, for whom or in what way. But what remained certain was that misfortune was there. There was, in this kingdom where neither king nor laws existed, a poor old man who had just lost his wife. And this poor man had lost, with his wife, his courage, his good humor and the last grain of brain that remained to him.

He had had three beautiful sons, they had been away at war for six years and would not return at the earliest after seven.

He had only his daughters left: four girls to marry, but who were not yet married and who every day asked what there would be to eat, knowing that there would be nothing.

He spent his days looking for what he could bring them back and did not find much.

One day, a winter day without bread, he suddenly saw in front of him a field covered with blue cabbages. Those cabbages that are put in soup and that are tender and crunchy. They seemed so numerous to him that it was like an ocean. But what surprised him most was that he had never seen such a field, in that place, before.

Without trying to find out more, he threw himself at this godsend. He wanted to pull out these cabbages to take them away as quickly as possible.

He could not pull out a single one. These cabbages were as if attached to the earth of this strange field. As if connected by threads. The poor man was overcome by a desperate anger. He began to hit the cabbages, kicking and punching.

He heard a rumbling, and suddenly saw a rock rise up above him and the field, an enormous stone. It was neither field nor stone! It was the head of a giant and the field was his chest on which his blue beard feel like cabbages.

The poor man wanted to run away but the giant had seized him with two of his enormous fingers. He brought him close to his face and asked him gently: What was he doing in that beard? Why had he disturbed him?

The poor man told everything: his misfortune, his misery, his four daughters to marry, feed and clothe.

“Give me one and you will never be hungry again. Otherwise, since you are disturbing me, I will crush you like a fly!”

The man did not hesitate much. Fear, misery, stupidity, the urgency of his decision did not help him to think. He accepted.

When the appointment was made, he quickly returned home, reassured and almost happy to have gotten rid of the danger, and also of his eldest daughter.

Without being heard by the others, he came to tell his daughter that a prince was in love with her, that she had to go see him near his castle as soon as possible, to come to an understanding and to marry him.

The girl did not argue. The opportunity was too good to miss, to leave such a poor father to find a powerful husband. She urged him to leave.

On their way, crossing a river, they came across washerwomen who were washing fine shirts that they were putting in baskets. The oldest of the washerwomen spoke to the girl:

“Help me carry this linen!”

The other did not look at her. She was not going to compromise such an attractive marriage to help such poor people!

When they arrived at the field, they found a drawbridge, in front of the bridge, a purse full of money and behind it, a large door that opened a crack.

The poor man pushed his daughter inside despite the terror she had, he pushed it and the door closed.

He waited but he did not hear a noise. That seemed enough to him to think that everything was fine. He took the purse and then returned home, very pleased with his good deal.

So his elder daughter disappeared and no one knew how, except him and the giant. He did not try to find out what had become of her. He worried about it the day he found his purse empty.

So he returned to the field. His blue beard waved under the winter sky. Very, very respectfully, he pulled on one of the curls that was shaped like a cabbage.

And, like the first time, the blue giant straightened up. The old man was terrified. He hesitated to ask for news of his elder daughter but what he wanted most was to ask for money.

He did not need to do so. It was the giant who asked:

“Give me your second daughter if you want to earn money and if you want to save your life!”

The old man asked for nothing else. He did not ask any questions. He did what he had done again.

And like her elder sister, the second was too happy to believe she had escaped misfortune.

She left with her father, did not listen to the washerwoman, ducked behind the door and was the father able to take the salary from this affair.

Ill-gotten money evaporates without one knowing how to do without it.

A third time, the father headed for the blue field. And as the previous times, things went well.

It was the last one's turn. The youngest, the innocent one, the one who wanted to stay home to watch over her father who was left alone since the others had left.

Everything had to be explained to her: the story of the older sisters and the giant, the choice he had left her: a daughter or to be killed.

She agreed to give herself up, but took a raven and a dove on her shoulder to send news: white and joyful news, black and dangerous news.

They met the washerwomen on the way.

The oldest asked her to help her carry the laundry. She came to help her immediately.

Then the old woman gave her three small colored handkerchiefs, the first white, the second red, the other blue:

-Take them for your wedding day, they are a shirt, a dress and a coat. And you will not take them off until your husband also takes off similar clothes.

The washerwoman returned to her shirts at the washhouse and the girl to her way.

They came to the gate. The father took his money. And the girl and her two birds went into the castle.

She enters the castle, the brave young girl and she is all amazed.

It is a magnificent palace, all lit up, all illuminated and so well made, so well arranged that it is as if she had always lived in this palace.

She crosses the lounges, the rooms, the apartments. She sees there, she recognizes there what she had guessed to see there, except that everything is blue.

The young girl arrives at the dining room, where the meal is prepared with everything she prefers.

The giant is there, suddenly, and invites her. They then sit down at the table. It is like her father told her during their journey: his skin, his beard, his hair are blue, pale blue like anger, like winter cabbages.

And yet, he seems less big, less big than a large stone and a field. But a terrible sadness can be read on his face, a heavy blue sadness.

When they have finished eating, he takes her to his room then withdraws without saying anything.

The next day, at dawn, he stands ready to lead her, to show her what he has.

He says:

“Everything belongs to you. Take whatever you want.”

But she looks and is silent, admires but does not dare say anything and it is he who must guess what she would like to ask.

The days pass thus, discovering themselves to each other, being silent and listening to each other, revealing themselves without saying anything.

She was no longer afraid of him, nor of his astonishing appearance. But as for him, the more time went by, the more he seemed worried. It was as if he had feared that a noise or a movement might shatter a hope she was unaware of.

She had asked him for news of her three sisters.

He had not invented any, he had said: They died because of their imprudence!

He had said nothing more.

In the evening, when they separated, all the lamps went out. And he had forbidden her to light a single candle before dawn the next day.

He joined her in the night and left her before daybreak. And if she had not known who he was and what he had probably done, she would have loved him very much.

Almost a year had passed. One morning, he came to find her, more serious and sadder than ever:

“I am going to go on a journey and you are going to be left alone. I leave you all my keys, the hundred keys to the house. Everything in it is for you. Go wherever you wish. Except to the lower room where I keep what belongs to me. I beg you not to go there, otherwise I am not responsible for anything.”

He tells her all this in a whisper and he leaves and she finds herself alone.

She does not hesitate for long. She knows that she must discover what this house hides.

She runs to the lower room and with the small key opens the unfortunate door.

A suffocating stench immediately takes hold of her by the throat.

She advances inside. She perceives, in the silence, the dull noise, the slow and brief noise of heavy drops that crash.

There is, in this darkness, a glowing light that escapes from a smoking fire. And this threatening glow reveals the brownish shadows that are suspended from the ceiling.

After a moment, she understands the giant's horrible secret: these shadows, these noises, this smell, are the blood, the flesh, the limbs and the remains of the wives who preceded her in this place and those of her elder sisters who were murdered and cut up.

She guesses almost everything that had happened: they had come here driven by curiosity. They had been betrayed by a secret, a magic. The giant thus warned had killed them immediately.

They had dropped this key which was magic. And this key had spoken to warn the murderer.

The young girl this time does not drop the key.

Among all the butchery, she recognizes her three sisters, their heads, their trunks, their limbs.

With tenderness, she gathers the pieces. And their bodies are reconstituted. And as if by magic breathe, but nevertheless remain asleep.

While she is at her work,She suddenly notices another door in the room. A very small door.

Curiosity takes hold of her. She wants to know what is behind this little door. She opens it and discovers a staircase. She goes down.

She arrives in a cave. A gigantic cavern, as big as the whole world, with a vault as vast as a starry night sky.

And under this sky unfolds a marvelous landscape, made of hills, rivers, mountains, fields and rocks.

But when the moon appears and illuminates the cavern, she understands what she sees: it was not a landscape, but the sleeping body of a man.

And under the moonlight, she recognizes the giant who sleeps almost peacefully.

In the middle of his chest, as vast as a valley, flows a white river.

And on the edges, washerwomen wash soiled linen, shirts stained with blood.

And each time a shirt is cleaned, the giant sighs and sobs.

And his complaints are so touching that the young girl forgets to hold the key, and lets it go.

As soon as it is no longer held, as soon as it is abandoned, the key swells, twists and screams, it screams and it warns:

“This woman has disobeyed! This woman has disobeyed!”

Then the washerwomen flee, the river stops flowing and the valley, on the giant's chest becomes a gaping wound again.

Then the giant wakes up, resumes his tormented form. His beard and his skin become pale blue like anger, like cabbages in winter.

He addresses the young girl:

“You did not know how to keep the key. This cursed fairy key that watches over me to keep me cursed. Because of you, I become again the one who only does evil, the one who separates and who kills, the one who cannot stop himself from killing so great is his fear and who will kill you too.”

He immediately seizes his ax and begins to sharpen it, while grinding between his teeth which excite his grindstone:

“Guise, guise, my grindstone! Guise my beautiful gray blade! Crips, criss for the betrothed! Guise, guise, I caught her disobeying me! Guise my beautiful gray blade! I'm going to cut her throat!”

She says to him:

“Listen to me! Since you are going to kill me, grant me a favor! I would like to become your wife before I die. I would like you to marry me before you kill me. And I want, for that moment, my bridal finery. Let me go and get dressed.”

The giant does not answer her, but while sharpening his ax, he signals her to go.

She runs out of the cave. Quickly climbs the stairs. Finds her sisters awake. Quickly tells them what to do:

Climb to the top of the tower. Open the raven's cage, so that it can fly away and warn their brothers who have returned from war. Watch, watch and watch, then warn when they arrive.

The three sisters climb the tower and make the raven fly away. The young girl is in her room. She unfolds the three handkerchiefs that the washerwoman had given her.

Then she undresses and takes the first white handkerchief. She puts it on her chest. It makes a shirt for her.

But down below the monster is busy:

“Guise, guise, my millstone! Guise my beautiful gray blade! Squeal, squeal for the betrothed! Guise, guise, I caught her disobeying me! Guise my beautiful gray blade! I'm going to cut her throat!”

And suddenly he gets impatient: “Is your finery on?”

And the young girl answers: “I can't find my chemise.”

Then she addresses her sisters:

“Don't you see anything coming?

And the three sisters answer her:

“We only see the paleness of the dawn that is about to arrive and nothing, and nothing on the way.”

But she, she looks for the handkerchief, the second little red handkerchief. She unfolds it on her body and it makes her a robe. And the giant shouts again:

“Guise, guise, my millstone! Guise my beautiful gray blade! Squeal, squeal for the betrothed! Guise, guise, I caught her disobeying me! Guise my beautiful gray blade! I'm going to cut her throat!”

And shouts even louder: “Is this chemise on?”

She answers: “It is on, but now I'm looking for my robe!”

Then she addresses her sisters:

“Don't you see anything coming?”

And the three sisters answered him:

“We see the sun coming, lighting up the horizon, but nothing, nothing on the path.”

She took the last handkerchief, the blue handkerchief, and placed it on her shoulders, and it made her a coat. A blue coat like the giant's beard.

The monster howled like a madman:

“Guise, guise, my millstone! Guise my beautiful gray blade! Squeal, squeal for the betrothed! Guise, guise, I caught her disobeying me! Guise my beautiful gray blade! I'm going to cut her throat! Is this dress finally on?”

“It's on properly. I can't find the coat!”

Then she addressed her sisters: “Don't you see anything coming?”

And the three sisters answered her:

“We only see the morning and the sad day that is coming. And then also three horsemen in the distance!”

But it is probably too late, because here is the giant coming up to look for her.

So she must resolve to go down to find him.

And he, when he sees her coming, dressed in her three handkerchiefs, he remains completely bewildered, so perfect is this finery.

He orders:

“Take off this coat!”

And she, without knowing why, answers:

“Take off a coat like this!!”

These words make him angry, even more than he was there, but he cannot refuse her what she has just asked.

With both hands, he takes his blue beard, pale blue like anger, like winter cabbages. He tears it off his face.

And all his giant skin, which was blue like his beard, he tears off his whole body. Then, she takes off his coat.

But under this skin of anger, which the giant had just lost, appears a red crust like the dried earth.

He asks:

“Take off your dress!”

She answers:

“Take off a dress like this!”

He tears off the two lips of his wound from his chest. And all the crust of earth that had covered him until then cracks and crumbles into dust. Then, she takes off her dress.

But under the layer of earth, which the giant had just lost, appears a skin of stone, like a white and pointed rock, a yoke of sharp stones.

He asks her in a breath:

“Take off your shirt now.”

She answers:

“Take off a shirt like this!”

The giant begins to tremble, to tremble from head to toe. Trembling so much that he makes the castle tremble. And suddenly, the rock breaks, the stones split, finally break.

Then the man emerges from his shell, old and young at the same time, full of strength, but exhausted, like a newborn in the hands of the one who gives birth to him. And she took off her shirt.

The three brothers had arrived. They had blown up the door and were running to the cavern. The three sisters accompanied them.

They arrived too late. The young girl had defeated the curse. She had freed the prince.

There was only a queen and a king left, happy to be free.

There were only sweet, tender and affectionate words.

Nothing more of the sinister past.

Nothing more of what had been feared, nothing more of what had been believed.

"Curse, curses, Spells, imprecations: Words of blood, words of lead."

It was all gone, like a dream.

Again, thanks for helping me find this gem again

@ariel-seagull-wings @the-blue-fairie @thealmightyemprex @tamisdava2 @princesssarisa @adarkrainbow @piterelizabethdevries @natache @theancientvaleofsoulmaking

[pasdetrois]

- Mererid Puw Davies, The Tale of Bluebeard in German Literature: From the Eighteenth Century to the Present

[haveyouplayedthisttrpg]

Have you played DETECT OR DIE ?

By Ben Klug

I'm just going to let the game's blurb on itch speak for itself:

A tabletop RPG of neo-noir empiricism, unstable detectives, and total ego death & resurrection. Inspired by science fiction stories of memory and detection like Blade Runner (1982) and Disco Elysium (2019), Detect or Die places the players as the various inner voices of the Detective, collectively embodying the fractured psyche of an amnesiac protagonist attempting to solve the Case. One player takes on the role of the World, laying out the setting and mystery for the rest, using a bespoke variation of the Powered by the Apocalypse game engine influenced by Blades in the Dark and Bluebeard's Bride. The rest play Personality Components, the fragments of the Detective's Ego who combine investigative competencies with erratic coping mechanisms, trading off control and emotional stamina to make it through the Case to the ultimate revelations - about the World and about the Detective.

[a-land-of-shadow-and-substance]

This may be a hot take, but I consider Crimson Peak (2015) a *very* unofficial Haunted Mansion adaptation. It's by Guillermo del Toro, involves a haunted mansion infested with ghosts and twisted family history (including both variations on a murdering bride AND the Bluebeard myth), has a "corridor of doors" scene...and even has a cameo from actual Haunted Mansion wallpaper! (It's the foyer pattern, not the eyes, but still, that HAS to be deliberate!)

[decidedly-not-heterosexual]

What do you think about Will makes him Hannibal/ bluebeard's last wife? And how did that line make Will realise that Hannibal is in love with him?

Hi Anon! So, my familiarity with Bluebeard comes from two adaptations (Catherine Breillat's 2009 film Bluebeard and Angela Carter's short story The Bloody Chamber). The film especially seems to match the most common portrayal of the Bluebeard story. Though, like all fairytale/folk tales, there are variations.

In gist: Bluebeard is a rich nobleman. All of his wives have gone missing. His young wife is aware of these disappearances, yet still chooses to marry him and leave her family. Bluebeard gives his wife a key to a chamber and tells her not to open the chamber. He goes on a trip. The wife opens the chamber and sees the corpses of his former lovers. Bluebeard comes back earlier, having given his wife the key as a test of loyalty. Betrayed, he prepares to kill his wife. His wife stalls so that her sister has time to come and kill Bluebeard.

In terms of connections to Hannibal:

Will goes back to Hannibal in S3 while knowing that Hannibal is a killer. Will even orchestrates Hannibal's escape from prison. This parallels Bluebeard's last wife marrying Bluebeard while very likely knowing he's a killer. She knows that, even if she's "special," her fate could be the same as the other wives.

In Breillat's film, Bluebeard truly does love his last wife. Yet he still gives her the key to test her loyalty. This puts the wife in an impossible position. She has to know what lies beyond the chamber door. This parallels Hannibal's tests of Will throughout the show. Because Hannibal loves Will, he wants Will to love the entirety of his monstrous self.

Take Hannibal's wrath in Mizumono. Will has to betray Hannibal because of who he is: someone desperately trying to hold onto their "goodness" by catching killers, rather than being one. Similarly, Bluebeard's wife, as a curious child, has to open the chamber door.

Will betrays Hannibal by setting up a sting. Even though he backtracks, Hannibal doesn't care--the betrayal is still there.

Hannibal says "I forgive you, Will. Will you forgive me?" and kills Abigail, an innocent. This parallel's Bluebeard's wrath when his wife betrays him and he plans to kill the wife, who is also innocent.

There are some interesting differences here. Hannibal kills someone else rather than Will. Unlike Bluebeard, Hannibal is willing to set up another test after Will betrays him.

Will stalls. He does love Hannibal. But Will can't let go of who he is--or who he wants to be. (I think Will's desire to not be a killer is as much a part of his character as him enjoying killing). Rather than becoming a fully-fledged killer, Will chooses to kill Hannibal. This parallels how the wife's sister kills Bluebeard.

In Hannibal, Will is the beloved and the killer. There is no external "sister" to sweep in and save him. He chooses to kill the monster, who he loves, also killing himself in the process.

Will himself is somewhat of a monster, having embraced his "becoming" and being a murder. So, along with being a victim of Hannibal's, he's also complicit in Hannibal's evil, and can't stand to betray his strongly-held values.

As another parallel, maybe Bluebeard's wife was suicidal, choosing to marry him when all his wives have disappeared...

So yeah. The monster (Hannibal/Bluebeard) cherishes their beloved (Will/Bluebeard's wife). But the monster has an evil that is too great. The monster asks their beloved an impossible task, which requires being complicit in the monster's evil, and requires the beloved going against their own nature. The beloved can't stomach the task. Then the monster has to kill their beloved. But the monster ends up being killed by their beloved.

PS: When I made that post I actually didn't remember that Bedelia has a quote mentioning Bluebeard's wife and wanting to be the last wife😭 Lmao. There's a whole other analysis as to how Bluebeard applies to Bedelia. As such, I'm not sure if that line made Will realize Hannibal was in love with him. PPS: Sorry for the late reply! I knew it would take me a while to type out my thoughts on this and I didn't have the spoons until now. I really appreciate the question!!

[dearorpheus]

(that last anon again) Thank you so much for the recommendations! I'm truly in awe of how well read you are and how thorough your answers are. May I ask if you have any fiction recommendations with the same themes?

(following on from this ask)

hi!! you're very kind, apologies for taking so long to get back to you! i've been snowed under with assignments+readings for uni and the slowly encroaching exam crawl... but yes absolutely♡

- The Story of O, Anne Desclos - The Bloody Chamber ; The Infernal Desire Machines of Doctor Hoffman ; The Passion of New Eve, Angela Carter -> Angela appreciated and referenced symbolist artists like Rops:

Woman Putting on Costume, 1848-1898, Rops; The Bloody Chamber, Angela Carter; excerpt from Romana Byrne's Aesthetic Sexuality: A Literary History of Sadomasochism (mentioned in previous ask) which seems esp pertinent given the Bloody Chamber is a Bluebeard tale (but which is actually referencing Story of O)

I also mentioned Giger in the previous ask, and Hans Bellmer was an influence of his whom I enjoy viewing alongside Rops...

this is Sans Titre (Jeune Fille et la Mort), 1963

- The Torture Garden, Octave Mirbeau

(Le Jardin des supplices (1976) dir. Christian Gion; screencap from estateofinsanity)

- Exquisite Corpse, Poppy Z. Brite - Necrophilia Variations, Supervert - Story of the Eye; My Mother, Madame Edwarda, The Dead Man; Blue of Noon, Bataille - Justine, or The Misfortunes of Virtue ; Juliette ; 120 Days of Sodom, Sade - The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty, Anne Rice -> supplement w Sleeping Beauty (2011) dir. Julia Leigh - Venus in Furs, Leopold von Sacher-Masoch - Monsieur Vénus, Rachilde - Le Necrophile, Gabrielle Wittkopp - The Apprenticeship of Big Toe P, Reiko Matsuura - The Damned ; Against Nature, Joris-Karl Huysmans - Empire of the Senseless, Kathy Acker - Crash, J.G. Ballard (+ the Cronenberg of course) - Salomé / Teleny, or the Reverse of the Medal, Oscar Wilde - La Morte Amoureuse, Théophile Gautier

^Romuald bitterly remembers his lost love, 1904, Eugène Decisy—his etchings for Gautier's story are beautiful (x, x)

- The Image, Jean de Berg - Trois Filles de leur mère, Pierre Louÿs - House of Incest, Anaïs Nin - My Dark Vanessa, Kate Elizabeth Russell - Naomi, Jun'ichirō Tanizaki - “Dolores”, Algernon Charles Swinburne:

-> first of many stanzas^ ; I also like his “Laus Veneris” - Trouble Every Day (2001) dir. Claire Denis - Belladonna of Sadness (1963) dir. EIichi Yamamoto

(screencap from eternal--return)

- Nekromantik (1988) dir. Jörg Buttgereit - Thirst (2009) dir. Park Chan-wook -> supplement w Zola's Thérèse Raquin and In Secret (2013) dir. Charlie Stratton

[bilightningwhumper]

Bilightningwhumper's Angstober 2024 Collection

*planned queued posts to be at 4:45pm each day until the end of October; links here will updated sometime after because I have work when the posts are queued*

Excerpts using prompts from @angstober for my planned "Shadow of a Shield" (MCU fic collection), "The New Eden Institution" (fairy tale retelling fic collection), and "Temptations of Fate" (Romeo and Juliet Angels/Demons AU variation fic). So, warnings for spoilers ahead, but I'm doing my best to keep them minimal. Short and sweet. Well, short and angsty, lol.

"Shadow of a Shield" chapters will be labeled with "SoaS" in the title

"The New Eden Institution" ones with "TNEI"

"Temptations of Fate" with "ToF"

Hope you enjoy!

Day 1- Again- TNEI

Fic: Final Piece (The Last Unicorn retelling) PoV: Galen- Last Unicorn Summary: Galen has a choice to make

Day 2- Countdown- ToF

Fic: Temptations of Fate (Romeo and Juliet Angels/Demons AU retelling) PoV: Morgan- Romeo Summary: Morgan and the team preparing to attack for the last stand

Day 3- Self-Destruction- TNEI

Fic: Missed Shot (Robin Hood retelling) PoV: Marianne- Maid Marian Summary: Marianne has an abrupt intervention

Day 4- Blood- TNEI

Fic: Dead End (Bluebeard + Hansel and Gretel retelling) PoV: Henry- Hansel Summary: Henry gets a call from Ruben after a bad mission

Day 5- Do Better- TNEI

Fic: Bruised Apple (Snow White retelling) PoV: Darcy- Snow White Summary: It's hard to please her stepmother when everything Darcy does is wrong

Day 6- Medication- TNEI

Fic: Hollow Mirror (Alice in Wonderland retelling) PoV: Reid- Red Knave Summary: Reid has difficulties helping Natalie

Day 7- “You Still Don’t Get It.”- TNEI

Fic: Missed Shot (Robin Hood retelling) PoV: Marianne- Maid Marian Summary: Marianne can't hide her worry about Robin

Day 8- Growing Pains- SoaS

Fic: When an Angel Falls... (Becca's story) PoV: Becca- Steve and Bucky's daughter Summary: Becca goes to one of her dads for help preening her wings

Day 9- Promise- TNEI

Fic: Dead End (Bluebeard + Hansel and Gretel retelling) PoV: Ruben- Bluebeard's final wife Summary: Ruben asks Henry an important favor

Day 10- Humiliation- TNEI

Fic: Royal Makeover (Frog Prince retelling) PoV: Wayland- Frog Prince Summary: Against his will, Wayland is forced to attend his first party as Lorainne's bird

Day 11- Wake Up- TNEI

Fic: Weary Rest (Sleeping Beauty retelling) PoV: Petal Sleeping Beauty Summary: Petal has an unexpected reunion

Day 12- Rotten Touch- TNEI

Fic: Bruised Apple (Snow White retelling) PoV: Darcy- Snow White Summary: Darcy has a nightmare

Day 13- Shaking- TNEI

Fic: "Royal Makeover" (Frog Prince retelling) PoV: Max- Princess Summary: Max helps Wayland take a bath

Day 14- Only Around You- TNEI

Fic: "Just Right" (Goldilocks retelling) PoV: Oscar- Talia's husband Summary: Oscar and Tressa bond a little bit

Day 15- False Hope- TNEI

Fic: "Final Piece" (The Last Unicorn retelling) PoV: Galen- Last Unicorn Summary: Another attempt at freedom fails for Galen

Day 16- No One Else To Turn To- TNEI

Fic: "Dead End" (Bluebeard + Hansel and Gretel retelling) PoV: Henry- Hansel Summary: Henry takes a leap of faith with his sister

Day 17- “Shhh…”- TNEI

Fic: "Weary Rest" (Sleeping Beauty retelling) PoV: Petal- Sleeping Beauty Summary: A proposition is met with... an unexpected response

Day 18- Falling Stars- ToF

Fic: "Temptations of Fate" (Romeo and Juliet Angels/Demons AU retelling) PoV: Evangeline- Juliet Summary: A proposition is met with... an unexpected response

Day 19- Tear-Stained Cheek

Day 20- Spare Me

Day 21- Abandoned

Day 22- Crocodile Tears

Day 23- Safe/Unsafe

Day 24- Dark Sunrise

Day 25- You’re No Better

Day 26- Persuasion

Day 27- Curled Up

Day 28- Perfect

Day 29- Get Out

Day 30- Nothing Else To Tell You

Day 31- It Ends Here

Full collection on Ao3 (or will be at the end of October, lol) here:

[stromuprisahat]

Disgusting old man, pure innocent heroine and the boy she’ll end up with

As mentioned here, I’ve read Angela Carter’s variation on Bluebeard’s wife and some passages remind me of how are we supposed to perceive Darklina, Alina as a heroine and her amazing endgame:

His wedding gift, clasped round my throat. A choker of rubies, two inches wide, like an extraordinarily precious slit throat.

~> Morozova’s collar anyone?

And I saw myself, suddenly, as he saw me, my pale face, the way the muscles in my neck stuck out like thin wire. I saw how much that cruel necklace became me. And, for the first time in my innocent and confined life, I sensed in myself a potentiality for corruption that took my breath away.

~> Heroine corrupted by a piece of  jewellery around her neck?

And there lay the grand, hereditary matrimonial bed, itself the size, almost, of my little room at home, with the gargoyles carved on its surfaces of ebony, vermilion lacquer, gold leaf; and its white gauze curtains, billowing in the sea breeze. Our bed. And surrounded by so many mirrors! Mirrors on all the walls, in stately frames of contorted gold, that reflected more white lilies than I'd ever seen in my life before.

~> Don’t forget girls, if he wants to fuck you on a huge bed in front of a mirror, he’s secretly evil.

I lay in bed alone. And I longed for him. And he disgusted me.

~> Alina’s feelings for Aleksander in a nutshell.

I could not take refuge in my bedroom, for that retained the memory of his presence trapped in the fathomless silvering of his mirrors. My music room seemed the safest place, although I looked at the picture of Saint Cecilia with a faint dread; what had been the nature of her martyrdom? My mind was in a tumult; schemes for flight jostled with one another ... as soon as the tide receded from the causeway, I would make for the mainland--on foot, running, stumbling; I did not trust that leather-clad chauffeur, nor the well-behaved housekeeper, and I dared not take any of the pale, ghostly maids into my confidence, either, since they were his creatures, all. Once at the village, I would fling myself directly on the mercy of the gendarmerie.

But--could I trust them, either? His forefathers had ruled this coast for eight centuries, from this castle whose moat was the Atlantic. Might not the police, the advocates, even the judge, all be in his service, turning a common blind eye to his vices since he was milord whose word must be obeyed? Who, on this distant coast, would believe the white-faced girl from Paris who came running to them with a shuddering tale of blood, of fear, of the ogre murmuring in the shadows? Or, rather, they would immediately know it to be true. But were all honour-bound to let me carry it no further.

~> Less chaste Winter Fete with no Baghra in sight. The monstrosity of her spouse is discovered by the heroine herself.

The door slowly, nervously opened and I saw, not the massive, irredeemable bulk of my husband but the slight, stooping figure of the piano-tuner, and he looked far more terrified of me than my mother's daughter would have been of the Devil himself. In the torture chamber, it seemed to me that I would never laugh again; now, helplessly, laugh I did, with relief, and, after a moment's hesitation, the boy's face softened and he smiled a little, almost in shame. Though they were blind, his eyes were singularly sweet.

~> Gods, I wish this was Malina. This girl’s better choice is shy, sweet, blind piano-tuner. She’s a pianist btw.

He took my hand; he pressed his arms about me. Although he was scarcely more than a boy, I felt a great strength flow into me from his touch.

~> Little comforts between the endgame couple.

'Oh, madame! I thought all these were old wives' tales, chattering of fools, spooks to scare bad children into good behaviour! Yet how could you know, a stranger, that the old name for this place is the Castle of Murder?'

How could I know, indeed? Except that, in my heart, I'd always known its lord would be the death of me.

~> “In my heart, I knew that Baghra was right.” The Darkling also has a reputation full of horrors.

I pulled the curtains close, stripped off my clothes and pulled the bedcurtains round me as a pungent aroma of Russian leather assured me my husband was once again beside me.

'Dearest!'

With the most treacherous, lascivious tenderness, he kissed my eyes, and, mimicking the new bride newly wakened, I flung my arms around him, for on my seeming acquiescence depended my salvation.

'Da Silva of Rio outwitted me,' he said wryly.' My New York agent telegraphed Le Havre and saved me a wasted journey. So we may resume our interrupted pleasures, my love.'

~> Good thing we have Baghra to save us from this. Shadow and Bone never even got to pleasures...

'Go and get them.'

'Now? This moment? Can't it wait until morning, my darling?'

I forced myself to be seductive. I saw myself, pale, pliant as a plant that begs to be trampled underfoot, a dozen vulnerable, appealing girls reflected in as many mirrors, and I saw how he almost failed to resist me. If he had come to me in bed, I would have strangled him, then.

But he half-snarled: 'No. It won't wait. Now.'

~> Unfortunatelly Alina lacks agency and could never openly use her sexuality as a weapon. Closest we get is when she uses the Darkling’s longing for company at the end of Siege and Storm, but that's very chaste, suicidal alternative.

The evidence of that bloody chamber had showed me I could expect no mercy. Yet, when he raised his head and stared at me with his blind, shuttered eyes as though he did not recognize me, I felt a terrified pity for him, for this man who lived in such strange, secret places that, if I loved him enough to follow him, I should have to die.

The atrocious loneliness of that monster!

~> The Darkling... do I need to explain?

'You do not deserve this,' he [the boy] said.

'Who can say what I deserve or no?' I said. 'I've done nothing; but that may be sufficient reason for condemning me.'

'You disobeyed him,' he said. 'That is sufficient reason for him to punish you.'

~> The irony of Alina’s true sin being “I’ve done nothing.” and certain people claiming it’s disobedience... 

My lover [the boy] kissed me, he took my hand. He would come with me if I would lead him.

~> You are my nation, you are my flag..

On her eighteenth birthday, my mother had disposed of a man-eating tiger that had ravaged the villages in the hills north of Hanoi. Now, without a moment's hesitation, she raised my father's gun, took aim and put a single, irreproachable bullet through my husband's head.

We lead a quiet life, the three of us. I inherited, of course, enormous wealth but we have given most of it away to various charities. The castle is now a school for the blind, though I pray that the children who live there are not haunted by any sad ghosts looking for, crying for, the husband who will never return to the bloody chamber, the contents of which are buried or burned, the door sealed.

~> Once the monster’s slain, they life of charity and caring about others.

No paint nor powder, no matter how thick or white, can mask that red mark on my forehead [done by magical tainted key]; I am glad he cannot see it--not for fear of his revulsion, since I know he sees me clearly with his heart--but, because it spares my shame.

~> At the end of the trilogy, Alina remains physically untainted. Unlike the piano-tuner, Malyen had no problem feeling disgusted by Alina’s involvement with the Darkling, although the retcon tried to persuade us otherwise.

[sloshed-cinema]

The Piano (1993)

The gothic romance, it would appear, has an uncanny valley. Shipped off by her family from rainy Scotland to muddy and rainy New Zealand, Ada McGrath is forced into the arms of her arranged husband Alisdair Stewart. Finding herself in a strange land with her young daughter Flora, Ada is forced to deal with harsh terrain and unfamiliar people, all while needing to communicate through either her daughter’s fiery translation of her sign language, written notes, or rigid and firm body language. She cannot speak, expressing herself instead through her piano playing, and she is stuck between two men. Alisdair is controlling and distant, and local handyman George Baines is coarse and blunt. Both men desire her, and she wants none of them. In its unfolding, The Piano manages to fall directly into the gulf between romance which is transgressive and charged, and that which is intended to be such but just comes across as creepy. Alisdair expects that his chosen spouse perform her duties because that’s her role and generally skulks around; not much needs to be said of him for that part. He is the patriarch incarnate. But George, in his game of exchanging sexual favors for the 88 keys of the piano that he’s holding hostage in a bid to garner her favor, is no better. The relationship blossoming between them seems to be prodded along because the film desires it to go in a direction rather than it happening in an organic sense, coercive that it is. That’s not to say it’s not without wit: writer-director Jane Campion finds indulgence within this, having George finger a hole in Ada’s stocking in an obvious innuendo, and later matching the handyman going down on the landowner’s wife to said landowner peeping in while having his hand eaten out by the family dog. Cue the train entering the tunnel. But the relationship between George and Ada isn’t love borne out of shared suffering, it’s some variation on Stockholm Syndrome. Ada’s position is unenviable, and the film leans into that, but it’s hard to buy that in the grander scheme of things. It just comes off as another case when I have to walk away scratching my head and wondering why movies seem to find these dynamics so sexually interesting. This has all of the trappings of a Wuthering Heights type situation but in its execution cannot balance transgression with coercion.

But perhaps this viewing was colored by my aversion to films that feel the need to hammer in the messaging or symbolism of their narrative. This is more Nathaniel Hawthorne than Haruki Murakami. Early on, we establish that the piano is Ada’s voice in the world. Indeed, her playing is anachronistic in its lyricism and fluidity, commingling freely with composer Michael Nyman’s lyrical and flowing score. People notice and comment on this. But needing to draw attention to something which is already clear is the least of the worries of the film. Throughout, conscious parallels are drawn in the most achingly obvious manner: the church pageant features a pantomime of the Bluebeard tale, a jealous man beheading his wives with an axe. Cue Alisdair with an axe. Ada removes a key from her precious piano, intended as a gift and love-affirmation to George, but it is intercepted by the vengeful Alisdair. By chopping off Ada’s index finger, he deprives her of her pre-stated voice. All of this would be fine, but for the fact that a play within a film literally tells you an idea you’re supposed to pay attention to, and the finger-severing is commented on obliquely when a Māori worker notes that the separated key no longer has a voice. All of this would be poetic but for how sweatily intentional is the presentation of it all. When the parallels are clear by implication, it starts to feel insulting when they get pointed to time and again by characters within the film. To that end, the conclusion of the film feels a little mixed: Ada finds a new life with George, and yet comments on her soul through her piano still binding her to its watery grave. Well, which is it gonna be, Jane? Just drown your character and put this to its watery grave, as you said you wanted to do so later.

The handling of the Māori was… not great. They’re present within the world of the film, as would make sense for the time period of the story. But at no point does the film look their way and think about the effects of colonialism inflicted on these people. Instead, they are largely presented as simpletons who cannot understand theatre effects but are useful when it comes to rowing canoes or carrying cargo.

All said, the ratio of loss from piano keys to human fingers isn’t exactly equivalent. SUCK IT, METAPHOR!!!

THE RULES

SIP

Someone uses a synonym for 'silent'.

Ada starts to play piano.

Close-up of piano hammers.

BIG DRINK

Flora tells a lie.

A number of keys is named in the piano ownership bargain.

Obscene amounts of mud.

[traumendesmadchen]

Now that our visual novel Chronotopia: Second Skin has been released, we’re starting an event called ✨Fairytale Friday✨. Every Friday, we’ll discuss a tale from the game’s archives! 😃

Today we’ll discuss Comorre, another Breton variation, but of Bluebeard this time! 🧔🏻 The fearsome Comorre proposes to princess Triphyna 👸. Considering his previous wives’ untimely death, she’s scared for her life but has to accept to avoid a war ⚔️.

Comorre seems unexpectedly sweet at first but his behaviour suddenly changes when he learns she’s pregnant 🤰. Helped by the ghosts of the former wives (and the Raven Ring), she escapes in the middle of the night and gives birth in the wood 👻🌳.

Unfortunately, Comorre catches Triphyna & beheads her without realizing she had hidden their son. Yet the baby, later found by her family, turns out to have magical powers 👶✨. Not only does he make Comorre’s castle disappear but the dead princess also comes back to life! 🙌

💜 You can buy Chronotopia on Steam💜

[adarkrainbow]

Masterpost 16: A fairytale spring

Fairytale fantasy: The Wine of the Gods - Les Flammes de la Nuit

Shout-out to the Spiderwick Chronicles - About Enchanted and Disenchanted - Kincaid illustrations - A discussion about fée versus fairy - About French variations of Cinderella (part 1 - part 2) - About the Lilac Fairy - About the New Adventures of Cinderella - A brief review of Elle voit des nains partout - About the abuse part in folkloric Cinderellas - About the Gender-Swapped Fairy Tales - Puss in Boots illustrations - A video about YA fairytale retellings

The New Adventures of Cinderella behind the scenes - Faun's märchen songs - The importance of cultural details in adaptations -

Unofficial duologies and trilogies: American cinematic corpuses - Youth novel series - Fairytale police procedurals -

Fairytale references within Throne of Eldraine: Part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

Fairytales in French cinema: 2011's Little Thumbling - Miroir mon amour - La Belle endormie - 2009's Bluebeard - The New Adventures of Cinderella - Elle voit des nains partout - 2001's Little Thumbling - Peau d'Âne - Caro Nostra - Belle Dormant - Cocteau's Beauty and the Beast - 1972's Little Thumbling - Blanche comme neige - 1986's Bluebeard - Cendrillon de Paris - Kirikou et la sorcière - Azur et Asmar - Princes et princesses - Jacques Demy's The Pied Piper

And a video about fairytale cinema

[cantsayidont]

BLUEBEARD'S EIGHTH WIFE (1938): Frustratingly clumsy Ernst Lubitsch romantic comedy starring Gary Cooper as an oft-married American millionaire who falls for an opportunistic Frenchwoman (Claudette Colbert), who really just wants to marry and divorce him as quickly as possible so she can start collecting his fat alimony checks and thereby revive the fortunes of her broke marquis father (Edward Everett Horton). With this cast, a Billy Wilder/Charles Brackett script, and the famed Lubitsch Touch, it seems like it ought to be a winner, but it's sunk by a disastrous lack of narrative direction and various unwelcome lapses in taste.

There are some very funny bits and an assortment of memorable throwaway lines, but the story lurches and lumbers, the main characters are unsympathetic in ways that aren't very funny, and Wilder and Brackett seem to have assumed that domestic violence was inherently hilarious. (In one particularly disagreeable scene, the Colbert character drunkenly urges her husband to kiss her, only to reveal that she's deliberately just eaten a handful of raw onions, to which she knows he's deathly allergic; he responds by threatening, with disconcerting seriousness, to murder her in her hotel suite, an escalation that's apparently intended to compensate for the lack of any actual punchline.) Cooper seems badly out of his depth, alternating between stoic stiffness and clumsy mugging, which means he's constantly being upstaged by the supporting cast (in particular Horton, who steals every scene he's in without apparent effort). There are some great pieces scattered throughout BLUEBEARD'S, but when it's bad, which it too often is, it's dreadful — one of the worst films from one of the world's great comedy directors.

MIDNIGHT (1939): Less than a year after BLUEBEARD'S EIGHTH WIFE, Wilder and Brackett redeemed themselves with this sparkling CINDERELLA variation, directed by Mitchell Leisen. Again set in Paris, it also stars Colbert, who's in rare form as Eve Peabody, a gold-digging American chorine who masquerades as a Hungarian baroness with the aid of a wealthy fairy godfather (John Barrymore) who wants her to deflect the interest of a suave playboy (Francis Lederer) who's been making time with his beloved wife (Mary Astor). This is complicated by the arrival of the handsome Hungarian-born taxi driver (Don Ameche) whose name Eve has borrowed, who's been looking for her all over the city since she ghosted him.

Using CINDERELLA as a framework gives MIDNIGHT the structure BLUEBEARD'S desperately needed, and the fluidity with which the story's various complications unfold is a delight. Better still, Leisen brings out the best in a mostly superlative cast — just watching their expressions is a lot of fun — and gives the proceedings the air of Lubitschian wit and sophistication that Lubitsch himself had recently failed to deliver. MIDNIGHT does stumble a bit at the end, with the final scenes (featuring Monty Woolley as an irrascible judge) succumbing to the heavy-handed mugging the rest of the film had mostly resisted, but it's not bad enough to sour the stew. As a result, MIDNIGHT is at least in the 85th percentile of screwball comedies, able to stand comparison with better-known classics of the genre.

[mxdam]

fairy tales and the female gothic

"gothic" is a bit played out as a term. what is the gothic? is it Dark Macadamia? is it crimson peak? is it ebony dark'ness dementia raven way?

the gothic as a genre is generally agreed to have begun with the novel the castle of otranto by horace walpole, one of the worst pieces of crap ever composed in the english language. i'm so serious, don't read it. walpole (1717-97) was an antiquarian, sort of a hobbyist historian whose particular interest was in the medieval period (this was pretty hot shit in england at the time, but we can talk more about 18th century foundations of horror and ghost stories later). by talking about otranto we can identify certain hallmarks of the gothic genre:

an illusion of historicity. walpole pretended that the novel was actually derived from a medieval italian manuscript which he'd "discovered" and translated for a modern audience.

a focus on the family unit, lineage, inheritance: conrad, the sickly heir to otranto, dies horribly at the beginning of the story and this is seen as heralding the downfall of the family line.

an interest in corruption, violence, unequal power dynamics: manfred, the lord of otranto and conrad's father, wields the power of life and death over peasants under his rule and the inhabitants of the castle cower under his whims.

the appearance of unusual and/or supernatural occurrences that undermine ordinary reality and emphasize the themes of the story

an almost taken-for-granted exploration of patriarchal power and control, in the literal sense of rule of the father, with commensurate interests in sex, control, and incest: after conrad's death, manfred decides to divorce his own wife, conrad's mother, and marry isabella, his dead son's fiancee. both women are helpless to do much but run away.

what does this have to do with fairy tales? in our previous installment, we talked about the ways in which fairy tales reflect and reinforce patriarchal realities for women; that's one connection. another connection hinted at by marie mulvey-roberts in her essay, "from bluebeard's bloody chamber to demonic stigmatic," is that the prototypical gothic story is a fairy tale: the tale of bluebeard.

in bluebeard and its variations across cultures, we see a story that reflects "a time when women were deprived of legal rights within marriage," such that "the ‘Bluebeard’ fable is a test of wifely obedience and subjugation to the will of her husband" (mulvey). perhaps not for nothing, the most famous rendition of this story, la barbe bleue, was written by charles perrault, the same guy who gave us cendrillon, or "cinderella," upon which the disney cartoon and countless other renditions were based. in it, a young woman is married to a man whose knowingly-impossible demand of absolute obedience from his many wives inevitably results in their slaughter. the protagonist barely escapes with her life.

there are numerous parallels between the gothic and this story: a fascination with violence, corruption, and evil, a focus on lineage and the family unit (the male-female couple being the basis for all nuclear family and for all structures of biological inheritance), and above all an exploration of patriarchy. bluebeard can almost be considered the ur-text for what has come to be called the "female gothic," gothic stories written primarily by women (ann radcliffe, the bronte sisters, jane austen, octavia butler, angela carter, shirley jackson, toni morrison, jean rhys, daphne du maurier, etc) which explore the complex webs of interpersonal relationships and power structures that shape and control the lives of women, and how those women react to, challenge, or submit under the force of those structures.

in the next installment, i will talk about the wicked stepmother and the female gothic. stay tuned 🥸

[haveyouplayedthisttrpg]

Have you played BLUEBEARD'S BRIDE ?

By Marissa Kelly, Whitney Beltranand Sarah Richardson

A feminine horror game about the new bride of Bluebeard, travelling through his mansion and encountering the horrors in each room. A variation of PBTA as a oneshot, this is a game about violence, danger and the decisions women must make to protect themselves in the face of violent men, as the Bride must choose whether to be 'faithful or disloyal' to her new husband at the expense of her own life.

[kurjakani]

(◍ ^ヮ^ ◍) 24 and 55?

24. favorite crystal?

HONEYCOMB OPAL and opals in general 🥺🥺 opalized wood also...... its so beautiful... i also like,, i tjink it was moss agate????

55. favorite fairy tale?

HUH THIS IS ACTUALLY QUITE DIFFICULT. no actually not. I love bluebeard. It's such a weird story & has interesting variations.

The one read to me I think had like a barrel of blood.... detrimental visualizations from childhood.