Most of my childhood entertainment involved sheer fantasy.
Alice in Wonderland was--and is--my favorite fantastical literary and Disney cinematic adventure of all time. I discern the two genres because primarily, my childhood was one of books and locking myself in my closet to get lost in writing my own stories. Now I'm feeling nostalgic about the days of crafting with pencil on paper, and of creating the exact images in my head with literary description instead of attempting to place existing images to match, or being constantly bombarded with imagery so that we don't even have the opportunity to craft our own (Verilio).
My sister and I had access to an impressive number of animated Disney VHS tapes. In fact, probably all of them that had been made at that point in time were items in our collection. The Jungle Book and Beauty and the Beast ranked in our top-watched, but Alice in Wonderland was always my favorite.
Raised by a highly educated feminist mother, as I reflect on my interpretations and reactions to Disney films, I appreciate the impact she had on my outlook even as a young girl. Until now, I hadn't given much thought to what appealed to me most in the Disney films and fairy tale narratives of my past, but now I know it was never the princesses in distress who were eventually "saved" by some dashing prince. Of course I was attracted to beauty, color and sparkle, as all young girls are. Of course I had my faux tiaras, but my own scripted fantasies never involved the prince. I simply relished in the power of being a beautiful princess alone.
The characters that struck me most were the dark ones: Ursula from The Little Mermaid, the evil queen from Snow White, the ill-intentioned fairy godmother, Maleficient, in Sleeping Beauty; Cruella Deville in 101 Dalmations; and of course, the Red Queen in Alice in Wonderland, a character whose evil laugh I impersonated perfectly in a school play. (I threw my head back so theatrically to bellow evil laughter my crown fell off every time. I wasn't satisfied with the two runs of the play, so I was then the Red Queen for Halloween).
My sister and I had access to an impressive number of animated Disney VHS tapes. In fact, probably all of them that had been made at that point in time were items in our collection. The Jungle Book and Beauty and the Beast ranked in our top-watched, but Alice in Wonderland was always my favorite.
Raised by a highly educated feminist mother, as I reflect on my interpretations and reactions to Disney films, I appreciate the impact she had on my outlook even as a young girl. Until now, I hadn't given much thought to what appealed to me most in the Disney films and fairy tale narratives of my past, but now I know it was never the princesses in distress who were eventually "saved" by some dashing prince. Of course I was attracted to beauty, color and sparkle, as all young girls are. Of course I had my faux tiaras, but my own scripted fantasies never involved the prince. I simply relished in the power of being a beautiful princess alone.
The characters that struck me most were the dark ones: Ursula from The Little Mermaid, the evil queen from Snow White, the ill-intentioned fairy godmother, Maleficient, in Sleeping Beauty; Cruella Deville in 101 Dalmations; and of course, the Red Queen in Alice in Wonderland, a character whose evil laugh I impersonated perfectly in a school play. (I threw my head back so theatrically to bellow evil laughter my crown fell off every time. I wasn't satisfied with the two runs of the play, so I was then the Red Queen for Halloween).
Above images, © Disney
I always found the flawed, darker character so much more intriguing. Not that I aspired to be like them, but they weren't ever represented as victimized, defensless women that needed to be saved by a prince; they didn't have all of their "problems" solved as soon as a handsome, rich young man swept in to their lives. Characters such as Cruella Deville, Ursula and Maleficient had real, genuine problems and complexities that seemed much more authentic.
Obviously, I didn't rationalize these surprising preferences in my younger years as I am now. But these patterns of my cherished maternal influences and my disdain for the victimized princesses can't help but present themselves as I am forced to reflect.
I admired independence in the characters of my childhood, such as Mowgli from the Jungle Book, who went to live alone in the jungle, befriended massive mammals and had an extended tropical soiree with these beasts. The non-villainous female characters I admired included Belle from Beauty and the Beast, who read voraciously with no regard for antiquated judgement from others, and ended up rescuing the prince herself by reversing the beast's curse. And of course, there was Alice, who stumbled into the terribly confusing and disorienting Wonderland, making friends along the way, solely handling crises with composure and grace, and never relying on romance to define her. After all, she did tell one of the Red Queen's soldiers: "Why, you're nothing but a pack of cards!" She needed no man on a white steed with a sword in his belt; she only needed her own confidence.
Obviously, I didn't rationalize these surprising preferences in my younger years as I am now. But these patterns of my cherished maternal influences and my disdain for the victimized princesses can't help but present themselves as I am forced to reflect.
I admired independence in the characters of my childhood, such as Mowgli from the Jungle Book, who went to live alone in the jungle, befriended massive mammals and had an extended tropical soiree with these beasts. The non-villainous female characters I admired included Belle from Beauty and the Beast, who read voraciously with no regard for antiquated judgement from others, and ended up rescuing the prince herself by reversing the beast's curse. And of course, there was Alice, who stumbled into the terribly confusing and disorienting Wonderland, making friends along the way, solely handling crises with composure and grace, and never relying on romance to define her. After all, she did tell one of the Red Queen's soldiers: "Why, you're nothing but a pack of cards!" She needed no man on a white steed with a sword in his belt; she only needed her own confidence.
As a child, I read much, much more than I watched anything. My parents stocked me with books weekly, it seems; we'd always take massive trips to The Open Book (not Barnes and Noble, because we needed "to support local business," they'd say); they would always attend my school book fairs and purchase however many books I pleased. I was not overtly spoiled as a child. I couldn't just ask and receive, but when it came to books, these rules of indulgent discretion were out the window.
I had so many books that I would spend my time alphabetizing them, which I enjoyed immensely. Since I couldn't read as I performed this task, I would listen to my Disney books on tape set.
Anyway, one of my favorite books gifted to me by a parent is the above pictured copy of Alice in Wonderland, complete with original artwork from Alice's Shop in Oxford, England. I can't wait to pass it down a daughter of my own, who I can only hope will be more inspired by Alice than by Sleeping Beauty.
I had so many books that I would spend my time alphabetizing them, which I enjoyed immensely. Since I couldn't read as I performed this task, I would listen to my Disney books on tape set.
Anyway, one of my favorite books gifted to me by a parent is the above pictured copy of Alice in Wonderland, complete with original artwork from Alice's Shop in Oxford, England. I can't wait to pass it down a daughter of my own, who I can only hope will be more inspired by Alice than by Sleeping Beauty.
