Roald Dahl’s Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf is, certainly, by no means unique. Without the already existent idea of Little Red Riding Hood, the tropes that Dahl leans upon for humour—Little Red Riding Hood’s familiar listing of what big this that or the other thing for instance—wouldn’t have nearly as much humour. The subversion of the expected lends the work its punch, with the remaking of Little Red Riding Hood into Miss Riding Hood. At the same time, beyond the expected tropes and borrowed plotline, Dahl’s authorship, sense of rhythm and rhyme, are something that many authors would struggle with and give the story a unique feel—the flickering eye, drawn pistol, and lovely furry wolfskin coat.

Clearly it’s a work, distinct in its own way and possessing artistic merit in its own right, but at the same time such a work is heavily reliant on the pre-existing narrative of Little Red Riding Hood. In a sense, Roald Dahl’s version of Little Red Riding Hood is essentially just fan fiction of the ‘original’—in so far as anybody knows the original—tale of Little Red Riding Hood.

Then, when considering authorship, and what works can and should be critically and academically studied, how far off is fan fiction, in the modern context, from that? Fairy tales were once considered not worthy of applied academic rigour—now it’s a sizable field in its own right. Fan studies is currently more the study of the culture of ‘fandom,’ but I’d hope one day it incorporates literary examinations of works of fan fiction as literary works in their own right, similar to what happened with fairy tales.

All in all though, the idea of authorship, of borrowed plotlines and reused tropes is one that’s interesting to me.

In many contemporary discussions of parenting, there is often a particular focus on children’s exposure to violence. Parents, teachers, and even news anchors assert that children in the 21st century are exposed to violence in unprecedented ways

Yet, throughout each story we have read thus far, the writing has been far gorier than anything I have ever seen in a children’s movie or video game. For example, Red Riding Hood eating her grandmother for a snack and drinking her blood, or The Little Mermaid feeling knives puncturing her feet at each step until they begin to bleed. Gore has held a significant place in children’s stories for hundreds of years.

I wonder if the violence in these stories impacts children differently than in contemporary examples because it is not senseless. Every instance of gore or violent actions has a clear attachment to right or wrong, so instead of promoting violence, these stories actually warn children against it. This is the difference between the violence in these stories versus the violence that children may see on video games, or in TV shows. Although, I still wonder, does violence have any place in media designed for children? Even though it is attached to a moral code, will any sort of violence that children are exposed to affect them?

After reading the numerous adaptations of Sleeping Beauty, I’ve become increasingly curious about how we could interpret Charles Perrault’s: The Sleeping Beauty in The Wood from a gender studies perspective.

Undoubtedly, the general theme of Sleeping Beauty has played into the nature of the female curiosity invoking disasters, such as The Little Mermaid wanting to explore new waters or Little Red Riding Hood taking a different path/playing along with the wolf. However, the most thought-provoking subject I would be interested in exploring is how the characters of the fairies highlight “appropriate” gender roles and conduct. More specifically, how the king exonerated responsibility in all of the adaptations for forgetting about the last fairy foreshadowing the curse on his only child. In Perrault’s telling of the tale, the older fairy was forgotten because she was never spotted leaving her tower, assumed to have died or been cursed(123).

The character of the older fairy should be considered a powerful and wise being, but she is old, without beauty, a social outcast, irrational, and non-confrontational.

 Instead of the Grimm’s fairy that “cried out in a loud voice,” she “mutters threats” and curses the princess when her turn to bestow a gift arrives. The other fairies are humanized and domesticated and seem prone to childish competition. Furthermore, the gifts they give her make her suited for a construct of the perfect wife and woman at the time. Similar to what the little mermaid had, the fairies gave her beauty, the disposition of an angel, gracefulness, great dancing ability, and for her to sing like a nightingale.

It is up for debate why the “good” fairy in Perrault’s telling hid and waited for the older fairy to curse the child instead of calling her out, placing some protection magic, or simply just waiting behind her.