Cinderella is one of the first fairy tales many children encounter, a foundation narrative in their conception of the world. While the value of fairy tales remains debatable because of their nearly ubiquitous happy endings, where heroines are compensated for their hardships with a handsome man and a lap of luxury, there is no mistaking their profound and enduring impact on both children and adults. Cinderella, of course, rests on the archetypal premise that a defenceless and pure-hearted maiden will be rewarded for her goodness despite her obstacles. In fact, the tale’s appeal is so far-reaching that Disney has produced a live-action version starring Lily James, Helena Bonham Carter and Cate Blanchett, due for release this year, just in time for the cartoon’s 65th anniversary. You can view the trailer here.

Of course, the story also promotes the ideal that good can triumph over evil with a little help from one’s friends, as  in the sequence from Walt Disney’s Cinderella (1950) at the end of this post. However, this pink dress–an addition by Disney–is interesting to me for different reasons when I look back on the film as an adult. While the lavish ice blue ball gown and the glass slippers magically bequeathed by Cinderella’s fairy godmother tend to be considered the pivotal–and more memorable–symbols of Cinderella’s transformation into a woman and a princess who gets her prince, the dark heart of the story resides in this humble pink dress, which represents Cinderella’s fragile hopes. After all, what is Cinderella fundamentally if not a story about cruelty to other women?

Indeed, the fact that the dress is brutally ripped apart by her step-sisters in this savage scene reflects a very specific malignancy amongst females, where envy and jealousy bring out ugly behaviour towards other women. This is embodied in Cinderella’s step-mother, who plays the archetypal vicious female who coolly manipulates and terrorises the child of her dead predecessor, who produced a child whose character far surpasses that of her own daughters. A bloodless kind of violence, but violence nonetheless. In fact, so compelling is this age-old and atavistic struggle between women for rank and status that a psychology book, called Cinderella and Her Sisters: The Envied and the Envying utilised it to frame its investigation of emotions that remain difficult for many to admit or manage. Moreover, the tearing of the dress viscerally conveys the cruelty we deal others when we feel threatened. The dress also reflects the discomfiting fact that a woman’s biggest bargaining chip tends to be her appearance, and the quickest way to undermine her is to destroy it, an instinct that remains well and alive even today.

Of course, it can also be argued that Cinderella is equally about good mothers, and just as Cinderella is a victim of women, she is equally aided by another to her freedom by virtue of living out her higher values of goodness. It was also designed as a cautionary tale about envy. In fact, Giambattista Basile’s 1634 version of the story, which was named “Cat Cinderella” or “Cenerentola”[1], underscores this with the ominous prologue: “In the sea of malice envy frequently gets out of her depth; and, while she is expecting to see another drowned, she is either drowned herself, or is dashed against a rock, as happened to some envious girls, about whom I will tell you a story.”[2]

However, that the fairy godmother’s ephemeral magic only underscores the barbarity of reality. Indeed, the dark original sin of envy that women inflict upon each other lingers nonetheless, and not even the comeuppance of having Cinderella’s stepsisters slice off parts of their feet and having their eyes pecked out by birds in the Brothers Grimm version offers much consolation. Furthermore, the concept of the ultimate prize being a prince who will solve all your problems remains problematic and difficult to support. However, Cinderella is an eloquent snapshot of cruelty, one that unfortunately does not require leaving the hearth to find.

[1] Cinderella has also undergone various modifications by Charles Perrault (who added the pumpkin coach, fairy godmother and glass slippers) and the Brothers Grimm–who added more gruesome details–before Walt Disney’s much more sanitised version became the 20th century’s definitive take on the tale.

[2] Read the full story at gutenberg.org.

Credits:

Screen still of Cinderella (1950) from Fanpop
Video from YouTube