I started the year with a challenge to read a particular 24 books this year, and here we come to the first: Grimm Tales for Young and Old by Philip Pullman.
Grimm Tales is an English language retelling of fifty-two folk tales from the Brothers Grimm's nineteenth century collections. It includes tales you will certainly have heard of like Cinderella and Rapunzel, along with some you are less likely to have encountered before (Hans-My-Hedgehog anyone?)
Cards on the table now: I love fairy tales in all their forms. I have read, amongst other things, a translation of the original Grimm folk tales, and have committed a perhaps unwisely great number of hours to pondering them. I was ambushed by this book in the shop, and embarked on reading it ready and willing to be delighted by it.
There is virtually no limit to the number of things that can be done with a fairy tale: there is the Disney approach, leaving the tale in its setting but taking off some of the more gritty edges and making sure of a happy ever after; there is the effect created by a good number of both pantomimes and animated films where the story is left more or less intact "for the children" but anachronistic (or downright smutty) jokes are slung in regularly as a reward for the adults who are suffering through it. There is the "rebooting", to use film parlance, where the tale is uprooted and given a new, edgy, modern setting with bigger explosions, better dialogue and more sex scenes; and then there is the reimagining where the action of the tale becomes an extended metaphor for modern life. This has been done to interesting effect on BBC Radio 4 in the past, including the tale of an unrepentant burglar with a penchant for big houses with nice beds whose nickname was Goldilocks.
This book is none of these. Pullman's stated aim was to distill the tales to be "as clear as water," running freely with nothing to impede the story itself. I would say that this book is a masterclass in how to do that, but as with all masterpieces, these tales do nothing so mundane because they do not show their working: they read as if they dropped out of the ether, complete and finished, needing nothing more than to be committed to paper.
As Pullman himself says in the introduction, each teller tells the tale in their own way, playing to their own strengths, and what Pullman has achieved is that he has, in effect, let the tale find its own voice. Some rip along full of twists and turns that leave the reader quite breathless, others are so scant in their story as to be delicate and fragile. Some are hilarious, others creepy. Each leaves a distinct impression. Unlike their Disneyed siblings, the endings vary: in some the baddies get their comeuppance, often in suitably horrifying ways; in others they seem to get away murder. Expect darkness, death, magical transformations, a multitude of golden-haired princesses and even a little pre-marital action (which for some reason Penguin had excised from the copy of Rapunzel that I read as a child.)
In the odd moments that Pullman's humour or personality pops up (I'm sure I read a reference to weapons of mass destruction somewhere!) it doesn't jar; rather it twinkles at you from the page leaving you with that most special of feelings that the author has spotted you noticing it, and has tipped you the wink; it comes across like a shared moment.
Fairy tales are endlessly fascinating: shaped by generations of story tellers and formed entirely around the question, "then what?" they present a particular way of looking at the world: many seem to come out of a superstitious, pseudo-Catholic world-view, but they are very open to interpretation. Unlike with other works from a single mind, the question, "what did the author intend here?" is meaningless, and doubtless many forests have been felled and many big bad wolves left homeless through the printing of endless words seeking the meaning of these little tales. I shall not attempt to add to that bulk here, but safe to say, these tales are true fairy stories which can be brushed aside or delved into to the degree the reader desires.
Part of the joy of reading is still, for me, the book itself, and Grimm Tales does not disappoint on that front either. The cover art is beautiful, the paper is good quality (I struggle to read books which appear to be printed on yellow loo roll), and the type-setting is is easy on the eyes (a significant consideration to a migraine sufferer). Each tale is followed firstly by a listing of the source and comparable folk tales from other traditions, and then with a short note from Pullman perhaps commenting on the story, explaining changes, or suggesting further adaptations or extensions which could be made.
The notes, sources and bibliography would make this an excellent starting point in the study of folk tales, but more importantly is a book to delight all ages. It has a magical, timeless quality to it, and I know my copy will be reread and thumbed through until it is aged, worn and falling to pieces. For me, there is no higher praise.
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