I love books like this one. Not books about propaganda or mayhem, but ones that make you think about certain aspects of your life for hours on end. In fact, there are hidden messages in almost every form of written text, if you choose to read between the lines, I skill I fear many are losing.
I recently had the pleasure of reading a few fairy tales to my little cousins. On the surface, I was doing quite a reasonable interpretation of a pantomime drama queen, internally, I was beginning to wonder about the message behind the insane drivel I chose to read to them and how much of it would be to their benefit.
Cinderella: A damsel in distress, harassed by two wicked sisters and a ghastly step-mom for most of her life, her story is one filled with woe. After an interlude with a wand-yielding old lady, she gets lucky with a prince and lives happily ever after. They all live happily ever after these fairy-tale people.
Where is the moral of the story?
I thought about this for a while… and was surprised at how very intelligent I am. Not really, this is a lie. I was surprised at how easily I sifted through all the pixie dust and found something quite viable.
See, this Cinderella chick, she was a nice person. She did all the chores in the house and slept in the fireplace. [Maybe she thought that if she stared at the coal long enough, it would turn into diamonds or something, I don’t know, those middle-age people were a bit nutty]. Conclusion: you should be nice to others even though they treat you like shit because its the morally acceptable thing to do. Also: people love the underdog.
But then *dum dum dummmm* in comes a fairy god-mother. Her spell makes Cinderella pretty BUT it only lasts for a few hours. I think the message behind this is that occasionally in your life you get people/situations that gives you a helping hand but you can’t depend on it because it too will fade and after that its up to you to make yourself happy.
So Cinderella meets the Prince and he’s smitten, insane with lust, mouth agape at the sheer awesomeness of her newly magic-ified glory, blah blah. I think this prince is a superficial prick to be honest but I won’t go on to insult him because he’s not part of the story (he’s a Daryll). It took me a while to figure this one out, and I was mighty proud of myself when I did: We are all diamonds in the rough, all it takes is a bit of elbow grease and we could shine like a million suns or be used in telescopes or be used to shine other diamonds (these people are calles ‘life coaches’ or mothers or Oprah)
What about the ugly family members? Well, there is nothing to say about them. They treated Cinderella like shit and deserve to be left in the house, washing their own socks. The whiney bitches. That is karma my darlings, I’ve been on the arse-end of it many times to recognise it when I see it.
See Mr Anderson: 4 hidden messages! I’m over thinking things as usual I know. I can’t help it, its the book, its making me re-assess my perceptions of life and such.
*sigh* I love these types of books.