I noticed today a story about Disney's effort to rein in Merida, the princess who broke the Disney mold. It made me laugh as I recalled the story of a man who reined in all the Disney princesses.
The story begins like every good fairy tale should.
Once Upon A Time....
Once Upon A Time... there was a little princess. She was smart. And fearless. And beautiful. Total strangers, overcome by her charm, would give her things for no reason. People would give her gifts, treats, sometimes even items of value. All they expected in return was to see her smile. This impact was not lost on the child. She knew she was special. She accepted it as a fact of life, much like gravity. She came to expect this treatment the way mere mortals expect gravity to pull them down.
One day, her father sarcastically dismissed one of her imperious demands by saying, "Yes, I know. It's your world and we just live in it." The princess, too young to recognize sarcasm, smiled in that patronizing way children reserve for adults they think are not all that bright, and said, "That's right." This was the first inkling her parents had that a force of nature was about to be unleashed on an unsuspecting world.
Recognizing the havoc such power could wreak if not properly constrained, and recognizing the only constraints that would bind such power must necessarily come from within, they began to plant seeds. "Always use your powers for good, not evil" was one seed they dropped early and often into the fertile field of her mind. Unfortunately, they were not the only ones working that field.
McDonald's, Burger King, Mattel and Breyer were all vying for mind share. The first two were relatively easy to dismiss. Alternatives abounded and they never got a toe-hold. Mattel and Breyer were more problematic. The horses snuck in and had the run of the place before her parents realized they had taken over. It was a horse that brought the first Barbie. She was soon joined by many others. Hoping Barbie would go the way of all flesh before issues of self-image would become manifest, her parents consoled themselves that at least she was engaged in creative play.
Things went well in this peaceable kingdom. The princess ruled over her horses and Barbies tended them while she slept. Ruling her little kingdom, she knew she was special, but she didn't know there was a word to describe her particular type of special. Her parents, aware of the word that described her, were loathe to use it around her, lest she embrace her identity and declare her birthright before she was ready to use it responsibly.
Then, one day, Disney entered her life. The characters left quite an impression on the little girl. Recognizing herself in the characters, she knew what she was and what destiny held in store for her. "I know what I want to be when I grow up," she delightfully informed her father one morning as she was getting ready for school. "Oh, what to do you want to be?" He asked. "When I grow up, I want to be a princess."
You know how they say your life flashes before your eyes right before you die? The images that flashed across her father's eyes were just as vivid, but they came from the future and they scared the hell out of him. Faced with the certainty that a monster was about to be birthed into the world, her father looked into his angel's eyes, swallowed his panic and smiled.
"Do you know what it means to be a princess?" He asked, brightly.
"No, what?" She replied.
"It means you are in training to be the Queen." He said, enthusiastically.
"Ooooooooooh," the child cooed, her eyes beginning to glow with excitement.
"Do you know what it means to be the Queen?" He asked.
"No, what?" She replied.
"It means you are in charge ... of everything." He said, whispering the final prepositional phrase in a conspiratorial tone.
"Ooooooooooooh!" The child cooed even louder, barely able to contain her glee as she contemplated the prospect of ruling everything
"Do you know what it means to be in charge?" He asked.
"No, what?" She replied.
"It means you lead by example, you can't complain, and you will be blamed when things go wrong whether it's your fault or not." He said, locking his eyes onto hers.
She didn't respond right away, but as the implications of this new-found knowledge worked its way into her pretty little head, a scowl spread across her face. Glaring at her father, she declared, "Not.Interested," as she picked up her backpack and headed out the door to conquer the world.
To his enormous relief, that was the last conversation they ever had about princesses.