21st Century Fairy Tale Telling

Metalalia--Postmodern Fairy Tales for Your Tablet and Phone

It's been about 200 years since the brothers Grimm first committed pen to paper in order to preserve the folktales of their native Germany.

Since then, fairy tales have grown and contracted, been melted down and reforged to make new alloys of folk-and-fiction.  The twenty-first century has already seen impressive and stunning contributions to the fairy tale tradition, but what about the storytelling medium?  To see the written word upon paper expire is the last thing I want, as I'm sure all of you agree.  But adaptability is key to survival.  And movies just aren't cutting it as a successful fairy tale medium (see my review of Disney's latest Frozen).

Enter Metalalia, an immersive, digital fairy tale storytelling experience.

character design for The Wind-up Boy

Musician Pam Shaffer and author Alex Nicholson have defied distance to join their creative efforts over the width of the Atlantic (Steel thistles and glass mountains?  Please!).  Together, with a team of talented professionals, they've laid the foundations for an app that will bring "future-twisted fairy tales" to your fingertips with original scores, fresh imagery, and interactive elements.  This means users will be able to "tailor their experience by combining or removing artistic elements, customizing the story, and making it more accessible."

first page of The Hair-Woven Rope

A multimedia storytelling experience that harnesses organic audience-to-author interaction recreating folkloric origins in a 21st century context?  I think yes.

The Metalalia team are rallying fairy tale enthusiasts and free-spirited creative types to help them fund the launch of their app on Kickstarter.  At the time of my writing, they have already raised almost $2,000 of their $9,000 dollar goal.

If this looks like something you'd appreciate; if you feel the importance of the digital medium in preserving our sacred fairy tales and engendering new ones; or if you just want some really cool freebies, click over there and donate anything from $1 to $1,000.  Whatever you feel moved to contribute.

If you're at all like me, they'll have you at "digital illuminated manuscript" and "William Blake."

Storytelling with Pictures

There's a lot of focus on the written form of storytelling on Spinning Straw into Gold, but literary tales are a fairly recent addition to the folklore pool.  Oral storytelling is the origin of many beloved fairy tales.  Storytelling in pictures is another traditional medium.  Done well, it can capture the imagination just as effectively as words, as one can see through the life's work of Dutch painter Rien Poortvliet.

I grew up watching David the Gnome, a quietly magical children's cartoon from the days when Nick Jr. (Nickelodeon) was an unlikely treasure trove of foreign culture.  A few years later, a book appeared in our library collection titled The Book of the Sandman.  As a teen, the similarities between these illustrations and what I remembered of David led me to seek out Rien Poortvliet's books on gnomes.

It was everything I remembered of my beloved children's show and more.  I was delighted to learn that the qualities which drew me to the animated series were rooted directly in the books.  Poortvliet approaches his mythical subjects as one writing a field guide, creating a layer of authenticity reminiscent of what one finds researching oral traditions in rural areas of old Europe.  Look at the sketchy quality of his paintings subtitled with inky scribblings:

field notes?

Poortvliet's knowledge of the natural world and talent in reproducing it to paper make the fantastic both mysterious and familiar--mysterious because of the successful representation of the secret silence of nature, and familiar due to its lovingly accurate portrayal.  One would expect to glimpse the following scene on a casual summer stroll in the mountains.

hard at work

His books don't talk down to children, either.  There's reference to history and science, with vocabulary to match.  Poortvliet's determination to immerse the reader in an utterly believable world is one of the unique charms of his storytelling.  Whatever the chthonic creature--be it gnome, troll, or sandman--he takes great pains to record logical explanations for the roles and habits of his subject.

The courtesy he pays his fairy tale folk by taking them seriously, for me, earns him no small amount of respect.

More like Home

An interview with artist Cathy Sidhu, of The Old Burrow

[Dear readers, the mythic tradition lives and breathes, but never ceases to shock me with its timelessness and universality.  You'll know what I mean when you see these pictures by Cathy of the Old Burrow.  I've never seen images like these before, and yet, I know them intimately.  So when she so graciously agreed to an interview for Spinning Straw into Gold, I felt the profound communion of those-who-know-magic more than ever.  Enjoy!--Christie]

The Story Keepers

What first introduced you to wonder and fairy tales?

Oh gosh!  That’s a long time ago. 

I suppose I was brought up with stories.  My mother often read to us and my Grandfather would send us audio tapes of him reading stories and singing songs.  He lived in England and I grew up in Australia so the tapes were the only way we could 'spend time with him' in between visits.  Stories always carried me away to a place that felt as though it had more meaning to me than the everyday.  They spoke of woods and animals that I loved and felt a kind of resonance with.  Although the Australian bush has its own unique beauty and the wildlife is amazing . . . I always felt a longing for the Woodlands of Britain and Europe.  I suppose Fairy tales in a way took me to a place that felt more like home than the place in which I lived.

Who or what inspires you?

Nature inspires me . . . it’s overwhelmingly magical.  Particularly old trees, streams, valleys, and wildlife, but the magic can be found in anything . . . from a pebble to a snowflake. . .  It sets my imagination ablaze.  I remember one particular time after I had spent a day walking in the Lake District, I closed my eyes in bed that night and my head was filled with moving images of gnarled trees turning into men and walking around the woods. . .  It was incredible and so clear. . . I so desperately wanted to show someone what was in my head.

Do you have a favorite place to create?

Not yet . . . one day I hope to have an old cottage made from natural materials . . . and in it I will have a little nook for me to create in.  I would like it to be on the ground floor with a view to a woodland and stream, oh, and I need to be near a door . . . for easy escape to the outside between brushstrokes (not asking for much, hey ?).  For now I have a little room that looks out to a hawthorn tree from which hangs all my bird feeders . . . so I watch the birds and the little voles between washes.

Baba Yaga

Who are your favorite mythic artists?

Hmm . . . there are probably quite a few: 

• Ivan Bilibin
• Iassen Ghiuselev
• Gennedy Spirin
• Arthur Rackham
• Kay Neilsen
• Mercer Mayer
• Alan Lee
• John Bauer, 
• Lizbeth Zwerger 
• Errol le Cain 
• Edmund Dulac  

And then of course there is the Pre-Raphaelite era. 

Also I love the Russian Lacquer boxes. . . (the painters have to be extraordinarily talented.) 

And, although I've never seen any work of his that relates to Myth or Fairy Tales, I can't not mention Kit Williams.

What is your favorite fairy tale, and why?

You know, I don't think I have a favourite tale . . . it's more the 'realm' of the myth and fairy tale that I'm in love with.  I just love the space it takes me to . . . out of time and out of mind to a source of wonderful creativity.  If I'm truly honest, I am often disappointed with the ending of fairy tales. . . they sometimes feel too simple, too quick and unsatisfying somehow. . . but then I'm not altogether sure whether that is just because they are ending and that means I may have to get on with the 21st century mode of 'doing'. 

But if pushed, I have a fondness for East of the Sun and West of the Moon, especially Mercer Mayer's retelling.  I think I like it because of the kindness, help, and gifts that she [the lass] receives along her journey.  Each step and each experience she has is an integral part of the quest . . . bringing with it a feeling that nature is supportive and has a bigger picture, a bigger plan than we are aware of.  At the end of the story we are left feeling in no doubt of her love for her young man because of the difficulties she has faced to be with him.    He, in turn we feel safe with because, although she was very beautiful and rich, he chose her at a time when she was bedraggled and poor. 

Hmm . . . I think it's safe to say I am an idealist and a romantic. 

I also love the Celtic Selkie Tales.  All the Selkie tales involve shape-shifting of some kind.  I feel very at home with the idea of being part human, part animal . . . just an extension of my connection with nature, I suppose.  I also love water . . . as a child, and less frequently as an adult, I often had dreams of being able to fly and being able to breathe under water.  The most well known tale of the Selkie Wife has something about it that I resonate with.  She is slightly adrift and different from humans and yet a no less devoted wife and mother.  Her inner yearning for home is always there and undeniably strong.

Troll Song

What are your upcoming projects?

Hmm . . . well I have a few in progress and they won't be rushed.  I have at least two stories on the go but they will only be written (and then illustrated of course) when they feel like it.  Both are folk tale-like in their quality.  One of them is 'Troll Song' that appeared on a blog post of mine a while ago . . . it is turning out to be a sort of Shamanic Alice in Wonderland with stories interwoven within stories taking place both on land and within the realm of what I suppose might be described as Shamanic consciousness.  Both influencing and interacting with one another, each with equal power upon the other.  It is, on the surface, a story about Unn and her journeys with a kind, wise and magical old troll who guides Unn to find her real home.  They share a journey on land during the day and, at night they share dream journeys and neither one is more important nor more real than the other.  As the story progresses, the veil between the two world becomes very thin and, I hope, a sense of oneness between the two is felt. 

The other is again a folktales within a folktale type of story.  It's about a kind and talented carpenter and a beautifully magical piece of furniture that responds in a delightful way to the fireside stories that are being told within the room that it sits.  The family are unaware that it is silently, intently listening, soaking up the stories word by word. 

I am also delving into the realm of painting miniatures on wood with a view to making Music boxes decorated with Fairy Tales or Myths and Legends. 

. . . And then there is another exciting one, but I am in the process of seeking help to design and engineer it, and . . . well . . . it's a secret.  I can only say if it turns out any where near the image I have in my head I will be truly pleased. 

On top of that I am starting up an holistic healing business . . . my other hat!

Why do you think fairy tales matter?

I just 'feel' deeply that they are truly important . . .  I have never studied the subject but I feel they have a healing and magical quality about them . . . they speak to a part of us that is ageless and timeless.  How old are you when you are listening to a storyteller?  I am no age . . . I'm just there . . . in the moment . . . held within that space of creativity. . .  It is very difficult for me to describe.

Where can we reach you?

Drop into theoldburrow.blogspot.com or email me theoldburrow@googlemail.com, and I'm also on etsy.  The world of Facebook is as yet unknown to me but I may get there one day.

Snow Apple

This is a superb re-telling, made to accompany a virtual item on Gaia Online.

I'm not sure of the artist and author.  Words and images were provided here.

In a frozen land far from any place you have ever been, where night seemed as eternal as the cold, there reigned a queen made of ice. She was cruel and beautiful, her subjects frigid spirits, her servants souls she had taken pity upon and rescued from certain death in the cold. 

The snow queen was vain as well. She enchanted a mirror to show her the fairest woman in the kingdom, and of course, hers was always the face she would see.


Among the queen's servants, her favorite was a child she had taken from the snow. She was quiet and hard working, and plain, the part that the queen liked most. The girl was called Snow White.


Years passed, and Snow White grew into a young woman. One day the queen asked her mirror to show her the most beautiful woman in the kingdom. . . And to her horror, the traitorous mirror did not show her own face, but the likeness of her servant.


Enraged, she summoned her most powerful minion, the Yeti. She ordered him to take Snow White far out into the wilderness, and return with her frozen heart.


The Yeti obeyed and lead Snow White far across the ice, into the circle of the world that is only frozen ocean. There, he looked upon her, shivering and cold, and could not bring himself to kill her. He told her to run and hide where the queen could never find her.


Terrified, Snow White ran and ran until her lungs burned in the cold air and her legs gave out under her. Lying in the snow, she knew she would die if she didn't get up. But her eyelids felt so heavy, and the snow felt almost warm. . .


And when she opened them, she WAS warm! Piled around her were seven sled dogs, the same colors as the rocks and ice, almost as if they were born of the land.


When she asked them who they were, they replied, "We are the workers of the snow and ice. We can run forever and never fall, and despite the long cold night we will never freeze. Stay with us, young one, and we'll teach you the ways of the winter, and make you strong." She gladly agreed. Months passed. . .


And Snow White's spirit grew fierce. Even so far beyond the edges of the queen's kingdom, the enchanted mirror could see no one else. The queen knew her minion had betrayed her, and also, looking upon the face of the girl she had condemned to death. . . She felt a terrible fear.


She called upon her own ferocious spirit, casting a spell to transform herself into a great white bear. She hid between her claws a sliver of ice from the very top of the world, so cold it froze anything it touched.


The queen travelled far across the ice, tracking Snow White for many weeks. Finally, they found each other in the wasteland. Snow White could not recognize the queen, and saw only a bear threatening her dogs. She lunged towards the bear even as it charged her, as fearless as she was certain that she would not emerge alive. The queen's heart trembled as she looked upon the girl, and saw her death in those dark eyes.

The bear faltered, its claws missing Snow White by a breath, and she saw her harpoon's opening, sealing the fate of the beast.  As she stood, she suddenly recognized the queen.  She felt a sharp pain in her chest, and looking down, she found the shard of ice, lodged in her heart.  The familiar beating of her blood stopped cold.  Even her breath froze.

The seven dogs ran to her, but there was nothing they could do. They nipped at her boots and barked for attention, but she would not wake. Overcome with sorrow, they threw their voices to the wind, calling for help that they knew would not come.


And then, a miracle happened! A survivalist named Les Cannon happened to be filming nearby, and heard the mournful howls. Adventurous and bold, he immediately determined to discover the source.


Upon arriving, he saw the frozen Snow White, and was moved. He dropped his equipment and labored to revive her. As their lips met, albeit in the breath of resuscitation and not the legendary prince's kiss, the spark thrown off from the clash of their two strong spirits melted the ice in her heart, and it leapt in her chest.


Together with the seven dogs, Snow White and Les Cannon trekked back through the winterland, intending to alert the frozen kingdom of their liberation from the queen. As the palace grew larger on the horizon, so did the faint warm blush of a long dawn. Day had come at last.

Fourth Friday Fairy Tale Prompt: Volume 2

Martine Johanna, website

How to Participate 

 

1. You have until the fourth Friday of next month to use this prompt to inspire a piece of art, music, or writing.
2. Your piece does not have to be supernatural, as long as it is inspired by the fairy tale prompt.
3. Post your finished piece on your blog, site, or other online presence.
4. Link your virtually published piece to this post.  (See inlinlz tool at the bottom.)
5. Read (or view) the other entries.  Offer insights, appreciation, constructive criticism, and encouragement.  Have fun.
6. Use the following image in your post and link back to this post so that other people may find us and participate in the future.

Looking forward to sharing the creative process with you!  Please e-mail or leave a comment if you have any questions.



*  Please give credit for the prompt.  Not under any circumstances is the prompt to be used for personal monetary gain; it is the rightful creative property of another.  Nor does Spinning Straw into Gold receive any compensation through the use of these prompts.

The 1st Chapter

Make your own word cloud at Wordle.

2013

Looking Back

In 2012, we've held our first contest, hosted what we hope to be the first of many Fourth Friday Fairy Tale Prompts, heard about the fairy tale value of Harry Potter, seen a promising adaptation of an old classic, and witnessed the unveiling of a brand new fairy tale publication!

So, what's on the agenda for next year?

Cory Godbey

Looking Forward

Fourth Friday Fairy Tales

When the holidays die down, we'll resume our fairy tale prompts.

As a reminder, the prompts can be used to inspire any original, creative undertaking: be it a piece of music, performance art, or a collage.  It doesn't have to be only poetry and writing!

Contests

So far, SSiG has held one contest, and I'd like to hold more.  However, financing more than one a year poses a problem.  I've considered adding a Donate button to the blog, but am wary about asking readers to trust their money will go right into funding contests and giveaways.  I'd like to hear readers' opinions on this.

The Harry Potter Project

The biggest undertaking of them all.  I've only read the first book in the Harry Potter series, which gives me a strong disadvantage in fantasy and fairy tale dialogue.  And what would be more fun and discussion-spurring than posting about my Potter experience as I'm reading it?

A few things give me pause: Harry Potter has already permeated our culture in such a way that it would be impossible to pick up the books without previous influence.  So I could approach reading in either one of three ways:

1.  Pretend as best I can that I have never heard of the series and try to imagine what my reactions might be if I were encountering the books in pure experience. 

2.  Throw my prejudices and expectations out there as I read, and let the reader determine what is of value and what isn't. 

3.  Do extensive research before and during reading.  Come to the books armed to the teeth with knowledge of sources, influences, and authorial intention.

What do you think?

And More

More book reviews, original fairy tales, and artist spotlights!  What would you like to see more of on SSiG in the new year?

Cory Godbey

Red, Black, White

A killer cold knocked me off my feet for the past couple of weeks.  To make up for it, I've been pinning on Pinterest like a madwoman.  So check out the feed below for lots of eye-goodies.

In my subjective experience, the most popular fairy tales to be illustrated (or at least the most popular collected illustrations) are Snow White, The Little Mermaid, and Little Red Riding Hood.  And Little Red Riding Hood towers above the other two for sheer volume.  Every artist that ever posted a drawing on deviantART has tried his or her hand on LRRH.*

artist unknown, please e-mail

And no wonder.  The vampire-werewolf-insertsupernaturalhotbeinghere craze is well beyond infancy and striding confidently into hot-blooded adulthood.

But, artistically speaking, I think there is another reason why Red Riding Hood is such a popular subject for artists.  And this is something I've also noticed from my pinning.

The striking color red, and it's common-sense counterpart white, is intrinsically woven into the soul of the story.  And I'm not talking about the theory of LRRH as a cautionary tale to girls on the threshold of menstruation to beware of wolfish men.  I mean, very literally, the red hood, the black wolf and woods, and, never mentioned, but astonishingly uniform in artistic depictions, the white of the snow.

Austere, copyright konako

This is suspiciously like one of the other popular-among-artists fairy tales I mentioned, Snow White.  I don't think it's coincidence, even if it's not conscious on the part of the artist, that when painting the colors on LRRH, they pick them up from Snow White's color palette.

At the very least, it shows how powerful colors are; how one color strategically placed in a tale can color its whole flavor.  

copyright papernoodle of Etsy

What do you think?  Why are the colors red, white, and black so universal and striking?  Is it something basic in our nature, like an evolved fancy?  Or is it symbol-recognition?  Or even just human beings reacting to things that look pretty?

Can you think of any other fairy tales in which a color or colors play a significant or intrinsic role in the story?




* It's also super popular for crafts, more so than any other fairy tale I've seen so far: hoods, dolls, necklaces, puppets, folksy wood paintings . . . I don't think it's insignificant that the colors lend themselves well to traditional-type crafts.

And Now for Something Completely Different

Have you seen this one?  From Hark, A Vagrant!

Copyright Kate Beaten

Click the link to see the full-sized version.

The Secret of Kells and the Art of Making

I've only recently encountered this delightful animated film from 2009.  The Secret of Kells is about a boy growing up in the walled abbey in Ireland during the time of the Viking raids, while the Book of Kells was being penned and illustrated.  It was an instant favorite for my family, and we play this song to our little one all the time.

This clip shows the highly stylized animation that evokes traditional Irish art.  Much could be written about these exquisite and deceptively simple illustrations.

The plot is straightforwardly simple, so much so that I was a bit surprised when the credits started rolling.  However, after stepping back from the experience of viewing to examine the whole, a clear theme emerged: that of the perseverance of human nature and its ability to create art in despite of trial.

The Book, not yet known as the Book of Kells, arrives in the abbey fortress with the famed illuminator Aidin, sole survivors of a Viking raid to the island of Iona.  Brendan is told by his uncle Cellach to keep away from the Book, and the forest that creeps up to the very threshold of their settlement.  Both are dangerous in different ways.

Cellach's intentions are worthy enough; day and night, he labors over the design and construction of an immense wall, intended to hold out the Vikings and defend the abbey and those who look to it for protection.

But the lure of the Book's mystery speaks to young Brendan.  Once he glimpses the fantastic illustrations, he longs to be a part of its making.  He risks disobedience at Aidin's behest and ventures into the woods to find berries for ink.  There he meets Aisling, a native faerie, who befriends him and teaches him the mysteries of the wood.  As Brendan's knowledge grows in the art of illumination, so does his appreciation for the art of the natural world.

The Secret of Kells is about pushing through adversity to continue making; about the human soul reaching out for beauty, and the way art transforms, even as men and women transform the materials around them into something new, especially works of art.  

In times of trial, we are tempted to point a finger at the dreamers and idealists; it is hard to see what the value of art is in a world of destruction.  Beauty and utility clash.  What good is a lovely song or a moving picture when death lurks at the end of every day?

This is the abbot's unspoken question in Kells.

Cellach, the abbot of Kells, was once an illuminator himself.  Jaded by hardship and worry, he forsook it and took up the task of building a wall to protect those under his care.  So desperately does he try to preserve life at any cost, he shuts out that which does not directly contribute to that aim.  He banishes his sense of wonder and refuses to acknowledge beauty.  One cannot eat a poem, he reasons.  A painting cannot stave off death.

What Cellach believes will protect him, however, ultimately proves useless.  Only, having shirked joy and the hope inherent in creating things solely for beauty's sake, he has failed to treasure the gifts and talents (and people) he had while he had them.  He has neither safety, nor hope.

Fortunately, the film doesn't end on the wasted Kells and the empty abbot.  Brendan, who, with a child's innocent wisdom, recognized in his own way the importance of the Book, facilitates his uncle's reconciliation with truth and beauty before the end.

It's a well-made, thoughtful movie, and I highly recommend it.  Whether intentionally or not, The Secret of Kells speaks to why we should still tell stories, especially fairy tales.   

Our voices matter, and our efforts are not made in vain; just as the aged monk's were not, who could not have guessed the profound richness with which he endowed humanity, when he first picked up ink and quill.