Sleeping Beauty II
And we're back! Last time we met the princess (the future Sleeping Beauty) and her parents and attended a lavish christening ceremony that probably could have used a better party planner. We dive in just as the king realizes that one of the non-invitees is pretty peeved about the oversight...
The king scrambled to be a gracious host. He got some servants to lay a new place for her at the high table, but, unfortunately, he didn’t have another of those solid gold pieces of work to sit in front of her. This was an oversight. Wasn’t there a backup one made, or one with slight imperfections still sitting back in the workroom? Or, hey – YOU’RE IN A PALACE – quick! find something of equal or greater value, and pretend it was a preconsidered, Better Than The Others, Unique and Special Present.
Failing that, take one of the much more reasonable 7 original “good” fairies into the hallway, explain the situation to her, and ask very politely if you could regift her present to the “bad” fairy, and work to replace the original as quickly as you can. This presumes that the original 7 fairies’ gifts were not personalized; but, as no-one has names in these stories, they really couldn’t have been.
The “aged fairy” (whom CP is only calling the “old creature” at this point; I’m not going to use that) sits down and ungraciously mutters through her teeth throughout the duration of the dinner about how disappointed she is that she didn’t get a present. I mean, I get it. She thinks it’s a direct slight against her, and even though everyone’s telling her it was an honest mistake, she decides to take it VERY PERSONALLY.
At some point, her mumbled complaints turn into mumbled threats, which, okay, Aged Fairy. You can be more subtle about your plans. This would be the equivalent of purposely going through airport security in a shifty manner. You’re just going to make everyone’s life more difficult, and someone’s going to notice you and do something about it.
Case in point: The Aged Fairy is muttering just loud enough that one of the OG Seven, seated nearby, hears her. This (Extremely Smart) Fairy wonders if the Aged Fairy will actually go through on her threats, which sound like she has something “mischievous” planned for the royal baby. The Extremely Smart Fairy decides to duck out into the hall, idk, pretend she’s using the ladies’ or whatever, so that she’ll naturally be last in queue to bestow her magical gift. Perhaps, if the Aged Fairy gives a less-than-helpful gift, the Extremely Smart Fairy could use her own magic to make the situation a little better.
After dinner, it’s presents time. Fairies 1-6 give pretty typical gifts, but I suppose they couldn’t all be interesting? We’ve got utmost beauty, angelic temperament, graciousness, decent dancing skills (so far, we’ve got Cinderella), a beautiful singing voice, and intrinsic musical talent. She could be a killer one-man band.
I wonder if the Aged Fairy realized that there was still one positive gift to go, or if she was just seething in a corner? If so, I mean, there’s a pretty solid Villain’s Playbook, and Rule One is: Don’t get distracted from what’s happening in front of you because you’re too caught up in scheming. It works NEVER. Anyhoo. It’s her turn.
CP notes that she’s shaking as she staggers over the dais to the Royal Cradle, but it wasn’t because she was old, it’s because she was mad. This should have been a clue. In a great voice, she informs the court that the beautiful baby girl will die via spinning wheel. “A shudder ran through the company,” and all I could picture was the crowd doing the Wave. Those in the room were more appropriately saddened: “All eyes were filled with tears.”
After a beat, the Extremely Smart Fairy pops out from behind a tapestry. Sidebar: I’d love and hate to play Hide and Seek in a castle, you know? So many opportunities. But, on the other hand: so many opportunities.
A proclamation from the Extremely Smart Fairy: “No worries! She’s not going to die! But I can’t do much about the spinning wheel thing. She’ll just go to sleep for one hundred years, no big, and then a King’s Son (come on, Chaz) will have to kiss her awake.” Out of context, I hope the fairy understands that this is almost as bad as the Aged Fairy’s scenario. Yes, the daughter gets to live—eventually—maybe—but as far as the king and queen go, they’re going to lose their daughter, y’know, the one they just drank so much Fiji water to produce.
Because the king is either an optimist or someone who Must Do Something in the face of utter doom, he passes an edict getting rid of all the spinning wheels. Perhaps this is when shopping vintage (or nudity) came in vogue in France. Or when importing yarn instead of making it became a thing.
Sixteen years pass. The King and Queen must have been feeling really secure in their putatively spindle-free kingdom, because they decided to go on holiday—or as CP puts it, they leave “on pleasure bent”, okay, Charles—and leave the teenaged princess alone in the castle. Sixteen is exactly when you don’t want to leave your rebellious kid home alone! (Did they not see Home Alone?) I mean, kid’s probably been brought up surrounded by too many guards, being treated like a tissue. What’s the first thing she’s going to do when she’s not being watched like a hawk? Ditch the security, go explore? Exactly.
After running around for a bit, she “came at length to a garret at the top of a tower.” Garrets are never good things in CP’s world. Last time we were in one, the room became filled with an entire circus of horses and coaches and Stone Age bed situations. It got uncomfortable.
In this particular garret, there’s an Aged…Woman sitting alone with a peculiar wheel-shaped device which the princess had never seen before. She looked upon it in awe. Again, I feel like this was a poor parenting decision. If the princess had just been brought up to know what she should be avoiding…how many times now could this entire story been avoided? I mean, I’m not mad, it’s a good story. I’m just pointing things out as Lessons Learned, in case anyone reading this has a child who is likely to be / has already been cursed by a sorceress in a similar fashion. (TL;DR: Don’t overreact. Also, don’t underreact. That’s about it.)
Oh, wait. I’d assumed that the woman in the garret was definitely the Aged Fairy? My movie knowledge is showing. It’s just an elderly woman—CP goes so far as to call her a “good woman”. Okay. Not good of hearing, apparently: Even though she ?lives? in the castle, she’s never heard of the no-spinning-wheels thing. (Was the castle relying on people hearing the edict? Did no one go and double-check that all spinning wheels had been burnt? Particularly in the castle in which the adventurous/doomed princess was living? Adding that to the list of Sensible Things They Didn’t Do. This story is basically a PSA.)
The princess watches the old lady at work for a bit, and then, naturally, wonders aloud what she is seeing.
“I am spinning, my pretty child,” replied the dame, not knowing who she (the princess) was.” REALLY not good of hearing, then! You! Live! In! A! Castle (probably)! Whose castle is it? How old are you? Have you been stuck in that garret for seventeen years? The birth of the princess was a really big deal. Even if you have been up there for the better part of two decades, whoever brings you the wool, takes away the finished yarn, and gets you food and water probably mentioned at some point that there was a Princess and a Curse. This is a time before television and the internet. THAT WAS WHAT PEOPLE TALKED ABOUT FOR AT LEAST A YEAR AFTER IT HAPPENED. There had to be some sort of #SpindleWatch, there had to be people with conspiracy theories, there had to be false accusations running amok and perpetual tension (or “pension”) for everyone, like…this is unacceptable.
“Oh, what fun,” said the sheltered princess at the first mention of the CursedChore. “Can I try?”
Of course she could, because there were massive loopholes in her security and education. (Could not the king and queen have invested in some armored gloves for the girl, or something? They were royals, they could have worked to make, idk, golden thimbles on every finger de rigeur for tweens. COME ON.)
The old spinner lady’s, like, sure.
CP’s quick to assure us that maybe, probably not, but maybe what obviously happens next isn’t all the Aged Fairy and her Curse’s fault. (I’m not getting the impression he always loves his protagonists, which is kind of a weird place to be coming from.) “Partly because she was too hasty, partly because she was a little heedless, but also because the fairy decree had ordained it, no sooner had she seized the spindle than she … fell down in a swoon.”
No shit, CP. Way to blame the victim. COME ON.
Rebecca out.