prirejene pravljice za lahko noč
Tega nisem brala, je pa moj sin pred časom dobil v dar nekakšne novodobne verzije Grimmovih in drugih klasičnih pravljic, ki so vse po vrsti postale strašansko prijazne in mile – nihče ne umre, nikogar ne požrejo, hudobci so humano kaznovani ipd. To je po mojem precej mimo, in res me zanima, če ima še kdo kakšno mnenje o tem.
Resda nisem mama, ampak če sodim po sebi v otroških letih – bila sem na moč krvoločen otrok – me takšne pravljice ne bi ganile. Kot sem tudi globoko prezirala butaste “vzgojne” risanke. (V smislu: “Fantek in punčka imata rožico, ki jo pridno zalivata. Rožico napadejo hudobni črvi, onadva pa v najboljši maniri waldorfske šole okrog nje posadita rastlinice, ki črvom tako smrdijo, da pobegnejo težit drugi rožici. Fantek in punčka veselo zaplešeta okrog osvobojene rožice.” Happy end. Bljak.) Tudi sem vesela, da smo še smeli gledati Disneyjeve risanke – mnogi prijatelji, ki imajo otroke, se namreč kar pokrižajo, če jim samo omeniš Disneyja …???
Če bereš kateregakoli priznanega teoretika, se ne glede na siceršnja razhajanja strinjajo, da otroci v pravljicah potrebujejo grozote, da ščistijo svoje strahove, jeze, stresne situacije … In če stvar ni grozljiva, napeta, potem itak ni nobenega pojnta v razrešitvi, ni katarze …
Kakšna Marinka je po mojem šund prve vrste, karnekizem, kar nekej iz vsakdanjega življenja, brez česarkoli, kar bi otroka obogatilo.
Rdeča kapica v Perraultovi verziji konča v volkovem želodcu – kar je za deklice strogo opozorilo: Ne govori s tujci. Če boš, si bivša. Malo karikirano.
Po Grimmu je malo mehkejša verzija, ta, ki jo vsi poznamo, in je že toliko zmehčana, da že imamo happy end, čeprav grožnja ostane. Če pa še to vzamemo, potem pa vseskupaj sploh nima več smisla. Enako je Tremi pujski …
Pri zgoraj omenjenem naslovu ne gre za “omehcane” verzije klasicnih pravljic, ampak za parodijo na “novorek” politicno korektnega izrazoslovja; ne vem, ce v slovenscini tako zadenejo.
Za “taste of it” bom prilepila Rdeco kapico (Garnerjevo, na netu se najde se vec verzij).
here once was a young person named Red Riding Hood who lived with her mother on the edge of a large wood. One day her mother asked her to take a basket of fresh fruit and mineral water to her grandmother’s house–not because this was womyn’s work, mind you, but because the deed was generous and helped engender a feeling of community. Furthermore, her grandmother was not sick, but rather was in full physical and mental health and was fully capable of taking care of herself as a mature adult.
So Red Riding Hood set out with her basket of food through the woods. Many people she knew believed that the forest was a foreboding and dangerous place and never set foot in it. Red Riding Hood, however, was confident enough in her own budding sexuality that such obvious Freudian imagery did not hinder her.
On her way to Grandma’s house, Red Riding Hood was accosted by a Wolf, who asked her what was in her basket. She replied, “Some healthful snacks for my grandmother, who is certainly capable of taking care of herself as a mature adult.”
The Wolf said, “You know; my dear, it isn’t safe for a little girl to walk through these woods alone.”
Red Riding Hood said, “I find your sexist remark offensive in the extreme, but I will ignore it because of your traditional status as an outcast from society, the stress of which has caused you to develop your own, entirely valid worldview. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must be on my way.”
Red Riding Hood walked on along the main path. But, because his status outside society had freed him from slavish adherence to linear, Western-style though, the Wolf knew of a quicker route to Grandma’s house. He burst into the house and ate Grandma, an entirely valid course of action for a carnivore such as himself. Then, unhampered by rigid, traditionalist notions of what was masculine or feminine, he put on Grandma’s nightclothes and crawled into bed.
Red Riding Hood entered the cottage and said, “Grandma, I have brought you some fat-free sodium-free snacks to salute you in your role of a wise and nurturing matriarch.”
From the bed, the Wolf said softly, “Come closer, child, so that I might see you.”
Red Riding Hood said, “Oh, I forgot you are as optically challenged as a bat. Grandma, what big eyes you have!”
“They have seen much, and forgiven much, my dear.”
“Grandma, what a big nose you have–only relatively, of course, and certainly attractive in its own way.”
“It has smelled much, and forgiven much, my dear.”
“Grandma, what big teeth you have!”
The Wolf said, “I am happy with who I am and what I am,” and leaped out of bed. He grabbed Red Riding Hood in his claws, intent on devouring her. Red Riding Hood screamed, not out of alarm at the Wolfs apparent tendency toward cross-dressing, but because of his willful invasion of her personal space.
Her screams were heard by a passing woodchopper-person (or log-fuel technician, as he preferred to be called). When he burst into the cottage, he saw the melée and tried to intervene.
But as he raised his ax, Red Riding Hood and the Wolf both stopped.
“And what do you think you’re doing?” asked Red Riding Hood.
The woodchopper-person blinked and tried to answer, but no words came to him.
“Bursting in here like a Neanderthal, trusting your weapon to do your thinking for you!” she said. “Sexist! Speciesist! How dare you assume that womyn and wolves can’t solve their own problems without a man s help!”
When she heard Red Riding Hood’s speech, Grandma jumped out of the Wolf’s mouth, took the woodchopper-person’s axe, and cut his head off. After this ordeal, Red Riding Hood, Grandma, and the Wolf felt a certain commonality of purpose. They decided to set up an alternative household based on mutual respect and cooperation, and they lived together in the woods happily ever after.
Ja, saj vem, samo pripopala sem vprašanje zraven, ker mi je ravno prišlo na misel. In da sklenem – ne jaz ne mož v otroštvu nisva trpela nobenih travm zato, ker je volk požrl Rdečo kapico in na koncu umrl, tako da sva malemu potem nabavila kar originalne Grimmove. Hm, zakaj pa naj bi bil sporen Disney? A ni že tako čisto v ‘family values’ stilu?
No, najboljše pri tehle novodobnih priredbah klasičnih pravljic je to, da se ti lahko zgodi, da vsakič ko vzameš v knjižnici isti naslov v drugačni izvedbi, dobiš tudi drugačno zgodbo. Moja otroka sta bila na koncu že čisto zmedena in nisem prepričana, če bi sploh znala (takrat) obnovit Rdečo kapico :-). Ampak po temeljitem opazovanju in pogovorih lahko zatrdim, da so jima najbolj sedle tiste krvoločne verzije :-).
Moje skromno mnenje je, da to postane smešno, ko si že zrel bralec in dobro poznaš klasično verzijo. Za moja otroka pa to ni… Če jima berem dolgočasne pravljice, mi za kazen naložita leksikone o kačah, pajkih in dinozavrih pa tiste beremo za lahko noč. Ja, tiste najbolj grozljive in najbolj strupene.
Moram se postaviti na tisto stran, kjer stoji Katja 10…ne samo zase, tudi za moja otroka. Ne vem sicer, kako je z drugimi, a moja potrebujeta dramatičnost. Če ni napisana, si jo ustvarita sama…