Saturday, November 23, 2024

The Wrath was the Mercy

A few months ago it suddenly hit me, at 36 years old, what the fairy tale of Rapunzel was actually about. 30 years after hearing the story.

I had always hated the story. I thought the Prince was a real jerk. He didn't rescue her from the tower, but rather, kept her there, and visited her many times, and got her pregnant. She was a peasant. He was a prince. He had more power than her.  The Prince in Rapunzel seemed like he wasn't all that interested in getting her out. (Unless he was abysmally stupid, and didn't know about the invention of the rope.) She didn't even seem to know what a man was, let alone sex, let alone pregnancy, by her asking the Witch why her belly was growing. I thought he sounded like a Uppity boy taking advantage of a naive girl. I found the story icky, because of the Prince. I even thought darkly that the ending was suspicously 'too happy' with the blinded beggar prince finding Rapunzel in the end in the wilderness and seeing again. When I read kiddie version trying to sanitize the unwed-pregnancy part of the tale I saw through them as the weak attempts at retconning honor for a disappointing prince ('they sorta had a secret wedding in the tower before she got pregnant...but no, he didn't take her home'  and "she said to the witch 'you are heavier than the prince' so it wasn't that the witch found out she was pregnant....but then she had babies so um, yeah, she was pregnant....")

When Tangled came out when I was 22 or so, I said "Ahh, they fixed it" when Eugene turns out to be a nice gentlemanly peasant-thief who doesn't trick her or climb her hair. She is the princess, she holds the power, Eugene never takes advantage of her, physically or any other way. He climbs the tower with his own strength, not tricking her into using hair, and she's the one always trying to kiss him. I said with relief that it was "uncreepified" from the original tale.

And then, at 36 years old, out of the blue, slightly sick and in my jammies, I started crying one morning at breakfast, when I realized the whole point of the fairy tale.

The point was that the Prince wasn't being above board. And he also makes an infinite amount of sense. After learning a lot more about both politics and history, in blood-monarchies it was of infinite importance whom a prince married and procreated with. Even in the pagan times. Constantius left both his peasant wife Helena and his son Constantine, for a chance to marry the noble woman and be Emperor of Rome. Alexander the Great had a kid with a political nobody, at 16 before heading off to conquer the world and pick his royal bride(s) at 30. This list could easily fill pages.

Then, in the Christian era, when annulments weren't as easy to procure as Roman divorces, there always was the common-law wife on the side. The "wives the Danish [pagan] way" as the Saxons would say. Henry II did it. Many many princes did it. (even dear Harold Godwinson had his 'danish-style' common-law wife before he got engaged to the Northern Lady/Princess at being made king at 40) Noble men resigned themselves to often having to wait over a decade before the official noble wife was found, at the right moment when they ascended to their full power, and saw the most pressing alliance that their country required. Telling a passionate 17 yr old that he has to wait, perhaps till he's 35, to have sex when he marries the right princess...they tried to find ways to have what they wanted but still keep their future political options open.

And so the prince in Rapunzel, was in fact, acting like a prince---historically, realistically, pragmatically anyways. He knew that there would be political complications to anything he did. After all, bastard sons can figure-head factions for the throne. Civil War and differing claimants to succession was an always a looming threat. And then, suddenly, out hunting, alone, here's his chance. He meets a peasant girl in the woods in a tower, completely unconnected to politics, that no one else knows is even there...and now he can kiss and all, with no political repercussions whatsoever. Perhaps he meant to abandon her when he got his political marriage in the vague future. Perhaps he intended to keep her as his 'danish wife' indefinitely, not abandon her, just have both at once (and hide his secret tower family from his eventual noble bride). Perhaps he told himself he would take her away from the tower and bring her home, when he had the courage to do so. But whatever he intended, in the fairy tale, he kept her secret for some time, while visiting her in a conjugal fashion, which is how he got caught by the witch. Rapunzel asks the witch to help her get her dress on, and asks her why her belly is growing, and the whole thing comes down like a house of cards. 

And judgment comes down hard. He's blinded. He loses everything. Because he was keeping it all a secret, his servants don't even know where he is. He's lost in the wilderness, a blinded prince, no ID cards, no servants, no credentials, nothing to prove who he is. The Politics he treasured, that kept him keeping the girl a secret, now have abandoned him.  Not even with the peasant-wife. He's alone. He's a nobody. He's a blind involuntarily-celibate nobody---less than a peasant. He can't even find work in a manual labor-culture & warrior culture, being blind was to be useless. He is wandering around homeless, perhaps begging, or scrounging, trying to find enough calories to survive another day.

And he gets that for years and years. 

But the story doesn't end there. 

Because in the wilderness...like something out of the book of Hosea...He finds his children and his woman, that he would have abandoned for fear of losing everything. Crying on him, hugging him, kissing him, and miraculously, he can see again. 

He loses everything....and gains everything in the end. Instead of a guilty secret on his wedding to a princess...he can hug his children and Rapunzel no longer abandoned.

So that morning in the kitchen, 25 years of disliking this fairy tale, I now was sobbing to my confused kids (and my Jenny in characteristic epigenetic distaste of the prince) ---at breakfast three months ago....that was the whole point of the story. 

That the wrath was the mercy. 


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