When Beauty Wakes
by Sarah Ashton Baker
The general story of “Sleeping Beauty” seems perfect on the surface. A beautiful woman gets to sleep for a century or so and is woken up from her beautiful dreams by a handsome prince. And even more than that, when she wakes, the princess is untouched by age. Her youth and her beauty is intact. The price a company could put on that face cream in today’s world would be astronomical.
Audrey Hepburn, “Breakfasy at Tiffany’s”
This outline is the skeleton for each of these four stories even though they are from different cultures, “The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood,” by Charles Perrault, “Little Briar Rose,” by The Brothers Grimm, “The Petrified Mansion,” by Francis Bradley-Birt, and “The King of Erin and the Queen of the Lonesome Island.” But when one looks past the surface and into the details of “Sleeping Beauty,” it can be found that some of them are not as pretty as the sleeping princess.
For example, one less than pretty detail that reoccurs in all four versions of the story is that the prince falls unequivocally in love with the princess, while she is asleep. This fact is disturbing even for those believing in “love at first sight.” For while in her slumber, the princess has no sight. And more than that no voice, no opportunity for action, no chance to make decisions for herself. She has only her appearance to speak for her. This reoccurring focus on appearance in the Sleeping Beauty tales also appears in Rachel Parbs’s paper on objectification, “She has become an idealized image of who she once was: the most beautiful and perfect woman, however now with no autonomy, voice, or purpose other than being admired,” (Parbs 7). While the romantic notion that a man can fall in love with a woman because of her beauty can be considered flattering, it is also ignoring the essence of a person and reads more like objectification as Parbs brings to attention. Attraction naturally plays a role in love and choosing a wife or husband, that is just one initial part of a relationship. Never once does the prince change his mind after he heard the princess speak. Her words, her views on the world, her thoughts on healthcare in the 1800s, have no role in the prince falling in love. I argue that the story of “Sleeping Beauty” presents a focus on women as more of an object of beauty with characteristics of the stereotypical domestic female rather than an active, independent person with their own aspirations. I’d like to explore the effect that this surface beauty can have, whether the princess is aware of it or not.
The first story I want to pull surface beauty details from is of the French culture, “The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood” by Charles Perrault. Perrault’s princess is beautiful true to form, however, unlike the other three stories he lends some physical details of the princess’s beauty. Besides being “the most beautiful person in the world” we get descriptions like, “her cheeks were carnation, and her lips were coral,” (Perrault 3). It is also mentioned in this tale, a soft breathing could be detected from the princess. All of these descriptions suggest the picture of health, of loveliness. She is alive, but passive. She is beautiful, but is unaware of the potential she has. This feeds directly into the stereotype of women being only object of beauty. Still, this beautiful object causes action without effort, without knowing. “Sleep is a site of protection and a site of potentiality,” Kendra Reynolds author of “A Rude Awakening: Sleeping Beauty as a metaphor for the Slumber of Post-Feminism” suggests.
“At last he came into a chamber all gilded with gold, where he saw upon a bed the finest sight was ever beheld -- a princess who appeared to be about fifteen or sixteen years of age, and whose bright and, in a manner, resplendent beauty, had somewhat in it divine. He approached with trembling and admiration, and fell down before her upon his knees” (Perrault 4).
The entire scene of finding the princess is described with beauty, “gilded gold,” leading up to the most beautiful “sight” of all. The sight of her is a catalyst for his reaction, not anything the passive princess actually says or does. The prince trembles. He is literally brought to his knees by her beauty. These are the same effects that an enemy in war could bring. Her beauty is her power. It is how she, the enchanted, is able to enchant. Unfortunately though, the sleeping woman doesn’t seem to have any knowledge of her power.
Like her unawareness of power, the rest of the story the princess showcases the definition of a domestic woman. There is foretelling of this domesticity earlier in the story when servants try to revive her from her “swoon,” because all pretty, mannered ladies swoon. “They threw water upon the Princess’s face, unlaced her, struck her on the palms of her hands, and rubbed her temples” (Perrault 3). The splashing of water is a gentle way to wake up the naturally more gentle of the sexes. The unlacing suggests the use of a corset, an object used to reshape a woman’s body by restriction, a tool of “beauty.” The striking of the palms is reminiscent of the chastising wrap on the wrist of a misbehaved child and the rubbing of cheeks is an effort to pinch life back into her as well as a sign of beauty. The domestic nature of the princess is exemplified again near the end of the story. Her husband leaves her at home with the children. To push the passive stereotype, the ogress mother-in-law preys on the princess and her children. When faced with death, the princess puts up absolutely no fight. “Execute your orders, and then I shall go and see my children, my poor children, whom I so much and so tenderly loved” (Perrault 6). Her ties to her children were so strong that she did not want to exist in a world without them. “...hints at the true human nature behind the porcelain shell” (Reynolds 38). Behind her dormant, beautiful shell, Perrault’s princess is a perfect mother figure of domesticity.
Now, if we travel a bit east we find a similar tale from Germany. As close as France is to Germany, is so the relation of the two tales. However, in “Little Briar Rose” by Brothers Grimm the princess gains more of an identity, she is given a name. This lends a hand toward helping the princess have a more developed identity outside of simply, “passive princess.” Reynolds also suggests that “voice and sexuality” should be considered when exploring the female identity (Reynolds 35). I agree, however, beauty is taken into highest regard in this German version. “...the Queen had a little girl who was so pretty that the King could not contain himself for joy, and ordered a great feast,” (Grimm 1). This feast is “with all manner of splendor” and served on golden plates. The surface beauty of the child produces more beauty on her surrounding surfaces. And the reaction of power from surface beauty continues when beauty has the power of slight. The wise woman who curses the child to death on her fifteenth year does so simply because she is not given a banquet seat with a golden plate of food. Further more in the French version the princess is intrigued by the spindle because it is “pretty.” Both the German and French stories exemplify how beauty can lead to not only powerful actions by princes but dangerous actions. In the Grimm’s story, the prince only dares the impossible thorn guarded journey to the castle because there is beauty inside of it. People risked their lives just to lay eyes on the princess, all while she is sleeping, all without her even knowing. Her beauty is her identity. She is to be admired while others are driven to action.
On a different continent, lies a different story but with similar passive beauty details, India’s “The Petrified Mansion” by Francis Bradley-Birt. This tale provides details building the most passive princess of the four stories researched. It too has examples of extraordinary beauty like a golden bed and a stick of gold with healing powers. There is more detail given about the princess’s surrounding than the princess herself. She is as silent as her presence. In this version I focused on the importance of voice, like Reynolds brought to attention, or rather the lack of one’s voice. The “beautiful damsel” does not have any say in her marriage arrangement. “In recognition of the very great service he had rendered them, the prince was rewarded with the princess’s hand,” (Birt 1). The princess is given to her “deliverer” as a reward, a pretty object with no protest or excitement for the matter, no action, no voice.
One blogger, “InkGypsy,” suggests an insightful theory, “On the one hand, Aurora can be decried as more of a plot device than an actual character. On the other, she is a poetic metaphor for the whole human race” (InkGypsy). The “Aurora” figure is seen as passive, but also as a reflection of society, especially in India. This idea of a women’s silence is an important one in the culture of India. P. Jayaseela and A. Bhagyalakshmi, coauthors of “Perspectives On Indian Women,” make an important case in their article. “Some claim that in ancient India women were accorded equal status with men, but owing to a variety of causes, she was regulated to a backward position in all walks of life...The real woman was missing” (Jayaseela 1). In the three stories I’ve discussed so far, each princess marries the prince and adopts the lifestyles of their husband’s family supporting the domestic motif. Their identities, mainly their beauty, morph to fit the mold of their husbands’ lives. “Mostly Indian women are controlled and conditioned by the dictates of their husbands and their family. Educated or illiterate, rich or poor they have to depend on their husbands for everything” (Jayaseela 1). Even being a princess does not right this damsel a choice, her father has control over her marriage. Even if this princess has skills and talents not mentioned in the story, the princess goes from her father’s home to her husband’s. There is no time of self discovery in between. “Women are indeed living at the mercy of men,” (Jayaseela 1). Whether it is by a German kiss, a golden stick from India, or just French timing, the princess awakes each time by the aid of the prince driven by the prize of beauty. Each escapes the curse of sleep and returns to life because of their beauty.
In Ireland, things get interesting, dare I say “active.” This story has the most variation. First off, the princess is instead a queen, an upgrade lending some authority. She has more depth and also the biggest action propelled by her beauty than the other stories. “The King of Erin and the Queen of the Lonesome Island” by Jeremiah Curtin explores Reynold’s idea that sexuality plays a role in identity. But what happens when the action of sex is not a choice for the sleeping queen? What if it is a violation of her body driven by her surface beauty?
For example, one less than pretty detail that reoccurs in all four versions of the story is that the prince falls unequivocally in love with the princess, while she is asleep. This fact is disturbing even for those believing in “love at first sight.” For while in her slumber, the princess has no sight. And more than that no voice, no opportunity for action, no chance to make decisions for herself. She has only her appearance to speak for her. This reoccurring focus on appearance in the Sleeping Beauty tales also appears in Rachel Parbs’s paper on objectification, “She has become an idealized image of who she once was: the most beautiful and perfect woman, however now with no autonomy, voice, or purpose other than being admired,” (Parbs 7). While the romantic notion that a man can fall in love with a woman because of her beauty can be considered flattering, it is also ignoring the essence of a person and reads more like objectification as Parbs brings to attention. Attraction naturally plays a role in love and choosing a wife or husband, that is just one initial part of a relationship. Never once does the prince change his mind after he heard the princess speak. Her words, her views on the world, her thoughts on healthcare in the 1800s, have no role in the prince falling in love. I argue that the story of “Sleeping Beauty” presents a focus on women as more of an object of beauty with characteristics of the stereotypical domestic female rather than an active, independent person with their own aspirations. I’d like to explore the effect that this surface beauty can have, whether the princess is aware of it or not.
The first story I want to pull surface beauty details from is of the French culture, “The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood” by Charles Perrault. Perrault’s princess is beautiful true to form, however, unlike the other three stories he lends some physical details of the princess’s beauty. Besides being “the most beautiful person in the world” we get descriptions like, “her cheeks were carnation, and her lips were coral,” (Perrault 3). It is also mentioned in this tale, a soft breathing could be detected from the princess. All of these descriptions suggest the picture of health, of loveliness. She is alive, but passive. She is beautiful, but is unaware of the potential she has. This feeds directly into the stereotype of women being only object of beauty. Still, this beautiful object causes action without effort, without knowing. “Sleep is a site of protection and a site of potentiality,” Kendra Reynolds author of “A Rude Awakening: Sleeping Beauty as a metaphor for the Slumber of Post-Feminism” suggests.
“At last he came into a chamber all gilded with gold, where he saw upon a bed the finest sight was ever beheld -- a princess who appeared to be about fifteen or sixteen years of age, and whose bright and, in a manner, resplendent beauty, had somewhat in it divine. He approached with trembling and admiration, and fell down before her upon his knees” (Perrault 4).
The entire scene of finding the princess is described with beauty, “gilded gold,” leading up to the most beautiful “sight” of all. The sight of her is a catalyst for his reaction, not anything the passive princess actually says or does. The prince trembles. He is literally brought to his knees by her beauty. These are the same effects that an enemy in war could bring. Her beauty is her power. It is how she, the enchanted, is able to enchant. Unfortunately though, the sleeping woman doesn’t seem to have any knowledge of her power.
Like her unawareness of power, the rest of the story the princess showcases the definition of a domestic woman. There is foretelling of this domesticity earlier in the story when servants try to revive her from her “swoon,” because all pretty, mannered ladies swoon. “They threw water upon the Princess’s face, unlaced her, struck her on the palms of her hands, and rubbed her temples” (Perrault 3). The splashing of water is a gentle way to wake up the naturally more gentle of the sexes. The unlacing suggests the use of a corset, an object used to reshape a woman’s body by restriction, a tool of “beauty.” The striking of the palms is reminiscent of the chastising wrap on the wrist of a misbehaved child and the rubbing of cheeks is an effort to pinch life back into her as well as a sign of beauty. The domestic nature of the princess is exemplified again near the end of the story. Her husband leaves her at home with the children. To push the passive stereotype, the ogress mother-in-law preys on the princess and her children. When faced with death, the princess puts up absolutely no fight. “Execute your orders, and then I shall go and see my children, my poor children, whom I so much and so tenderly loved” (Perrault 6). Her ties to her children were so strong that she did not want to exist in a world without them. “...hints at the true human nature behind the porcelain shell” (Reynolds 38). Behind her dormant, beautiful shell, Perrault’s princess is a perfect mother figure of domesticity.
Now, if we travel a bit east we find a similar tale from Germany. As close as France is to Germany, is so the relation of the two tales. However, in “Little Briar Rose” by Brothers Grimm the princess gains more of an identity, she is given a name. This lends a hand toward helping the princess have a more developed identity outside of simply, “passive princess.” Reynolds also suggests that “voice and sexuality” should be considered when exploring the female identity (Reynolds 35). I agree, however, beauty is taken into highest regard in this German version. “...the Queen had a little girl who was so pretty that the King could not contain himself for joy, and ordered a great feast,” (Grimm 1). This feast is “with all manner of splendor” and served on golden plates. The surface beauty of the child produces more beauty on her surrounding surfaces. And the reaction of power from surface beauty continues when beauty has the power of slight. The wise woman who curses the child to death on her fifteenth year does so simply because she is not given a banquet seat with a golden plate of food. Further more in the French version the princess is intrigued by the spindle because it is “pretty.” Both the German and French stories exemplify how beauty can lead to not only powerful actions by princes but dangerous actions. In the Grimm’s story, the prince only dares the impossible thorn guarded journey to the castle because there is beauty inside of it. People risked their lives just to lay eyes on the princess, all while she is sleeping, all without her even knowing. Her beauty is her identity. She is to be admired while others are driven to action.
On a different continent, lies a different story but with similar passive beauty details, India’s “The Petrified Mansion” by Francis Bradley-Birt. This tale provides details building the most passive princess of the four stories researched. It too has examples of extraordinary beauty like a golden bed and a stick of gold with healing powers. There is more detail given about the princess’s surrounding than the princess herself. She is as silent as her presence. In this version I focused on the importance of voice, like Reynolds brought to attention, or rather the lack of one’s voice. The “beautiful damsel” does not have any say in her marriage arrangement. “In recognition of the very great service he had rendered them, the prince was rewarded with the princess’s hand,” (Birt 1). The princess is given to her “deliverer” as a reward, a pretty object with no protest or excitement for the matter, no action, no voice.
One blogger, “InkGypsy,” suggests an insightful theory, “On the one hand, Aurora can be decried as more of a plot device than an actual character. On the other, she is a poetic metaphor for the whole human race” (InkGypsy). The “Aurora” figure is seen as passive, but also as a reflection of society, especially in India. This idea of a women’s silence is an important one in the culture of India. P. Jayaseela and A. Bhagyalakshmi, coauthors of “Perspectives On Indian Women,” make an important case in their article. “Some claim that in ancient India women were accorded equal status with men, but owing to a variety of causes, she was regulated to a backward position in all walks of life...The real woman was missing” (Jayaseela 1). In the three stories I’ve discussed so far, each princess marries the prince and adopts the lifestyles of their husband’s family supporting the domestic motif. Their identities, mainly their beauty, morph to fit the mold of their husbands’ lives. “Mostly Indian women are controlled and conditioned by the dictates of their husbands and their family. Educated or illiterate, rich or poor they have to depend on their husbands for everything” (Jayaseela 1). Even being a princess does not right this damsel a choice, her father has control over her marriage. Even if this princess has skills and talents not mentioned in the story, the princess goes from her father’s home to her husband’s. There is no time of self discovery in between. “Women are indeed living at the mercy of men,” (Jayaseela 1). Whether it is by a German kiss, a golden stick from India, or just French timing, the princess awakes each time by the aid of the prince driven by the prize of beauty. Each escapes the curse of sleep and returns to life because of their beauty.
In Ireland, things get interesting, dare I say “active.” This story has the most variation. First off, the princess is instead a queen, an upgrade lending some authority. She has more depth and also the biggest action propelled by her beauty than the other stories. “The King of Erin and the Queen of the Lonesome Island” by Jeremiah Curtin explores Reynold’s idea that sexuality plays a role in identity. But what happens when the action of sex is not a choice for the sleeping queen? What if it is a violation of her body driven by her surface beauty?
Original image can be found at http://feministdisney.tumblr.com/post/13301468172/sleeping-beauty-a-rose-with-no-thorns
“When she saw the child, she began to cry and wring her hands, and said: ‘Some man has been here while I slept.’,” (Curtin 7). Again there is an example of the dangerous action beauty can bring. This Irish queen has a child of six years and is unaware. The prince used her body in the highest form of objectification, rape. And he even left a note under her pillow letting her know he had been there. This is a clue to find him since he has an identity outside of the castle in which the princess was trapped in sleep. This gives this sleeping beauty a chance to break the passive mold, a chance to act on her own behalf.
To find the prince, the queen has a certain clue to his identity, his son. “Whoever was here must be a hero; for the child has gold on his forehead and silver on his poll” (Curtin 7). The child being beautiful and of royal blood makes the queen proud to be his mother instead of just the simple fact that she is his mother. Here again, the Queen of Lonesome Island shows a break in the mold of domestic motherhood that the other stories showcased. She also breaks the pattern of passiveness. She immediately takes action when she wakes. She seeks out the man who was in her chambers with vengeance and is not afraid to search for answers. This queen has characteristics other than “beautiful.” She is capable of action and really didn’t even need a man to wake her from her slumber (her curse was purely set on periods of time). Still, she does marry the man who entered her quarters like the rest of the maidens. But it is her choice, she makes him a king.
In conclusion, “Sleeping Beauty” pushes forward the issue of how women are viewed. Their sleeping curse represents the passiveness that is so easy for women to fall into. Beauty is proven to be a means of survival in these stories. Beauty is the tool that led to a marriage, a home and family. However, as the Irish version supports, there is an abundance of opportunity for women. Women do not have to solely rely on their surface beauty as a crutch, they can do more. Women in any culture of today should take away a message from “Sleeping Beauty.” We are not asleep. We are very much alive and capable of pursuing our own desires, creating our own identities and not having men create them for us. If a woman wants a prince and a family and shelves devoted to holding pageant crowns, that should be considered wonderful. As long as the woman is writing her own story and not simply waiting on something to happen to her.
To find the prince, the queen has a certain clue to his identity, his son. “Whoever was here must be a hero; for the child has gold on his forehead and silver on his poll” (Curtin 7). The child being beautiful and of royal blood makes the queen proud to be his mother instead of just the simple fact that she is his mother. Here again, the Queen of Lonesome Island shows a break in the mold of domestic motherhood that the other stories showcased. She also breaks the pattern of passiveness. She immediately takes action when she wakes. She seeks out the man who was in her chambers with vengeance and is not afraid to search for answers. This queen has characteristics other than “beautiful.” She is capable of action and really didn’t even need a man to wake her from her slumber (her curse was purely set on periods of time). Still, she does marry the man who entered her quarters like the rest of the maidens. But it is her choice, she makes him a king.
In conclusion, “Sleeping Beauty” pushes forward the issue of how women are viewed. Their sleeping curse represents the passiveness that is so easy for women to fall into. Beauty is proven to be a means of survival in these stories. Beauty is the tool that led to a marriage, a home and family. However, as the Irish version supports, there is an abundance of opportunity for women. Women do not have to solely rely on their surface beauty as a crutch, they can do more. Women in any culture of today should take away a message from “Sleeping Beauty.” We are not asleep. We are very much alive and capable of pursuing our own desires, creating our own identities and not having men create them for us. If a woman wants a prince and a family and shelves devoted to holding pageant crowns, that should be considered wonderful. As long as the woman is writing her own story and not simply waiting on something to happen to her.
“Beauty is Sleeping,” Sarah Ashton Baker
References
- Bradley-Birt, Francis. Bengal Fairy Tales. London: John Lane, 1920.
- Curtin, Jeremiah. Myths of Folk-lore of Ireland. Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1890.
- Grimm, Jacob and Wilhelm. Household Tales. Margaret Hunt, translator. London: George Bell, 1884.
- Jayaseela, P., and A. Bhagyalakshmi. “Perspectives On Indian Woman.” Language In India 14.11 (2014): 17-21. Communication & Mass Media Complete. Web.
- InkGypsy, http://fairytalenewsblog.blogspot.com/2014/05/micechat-discusses-perraults- sleeping.html
- Lang, Andrew, ed. “Sleeping Beauty.” The Blue Fairy Book. New York: Dover, 1965.
- Parbs, Rachel. “Who is the Most Objectified of them All.”
- Reynolds, Kendra. A Rude Awakening: Sleeping Beauty as a Metephor for the slumber of Post-Feminism. Journal of International Women’s Studies, 16 (1), 34-46.