Isn't It Romantic? Sacrificing Agency for Romance in the Chronicles of Prydain
2015; Mythopoeic Society; Volume: 33; Issue: 2 Linguagem: Inglês
ISSN
0146-9339
Autores Tópico(s)Folklore, Mythology, and Literature Studies
ResumoIn an article entitled What's Wrong With Cinderella, author Peggy Orenstein laments the obsession American girls have with the concept of being a princess. When asked by her daughter why she was so against the idea of idolizing princesses, Orenstein replied, It's just, honey, Cinderella doesn't really do anything (Orenstein 62). scene of Cinderella's magical transformation from a servant to a princess, though lamented by Orenstein as disempowering to women, has nonetheless become a cultural icon in film, television, and literature as a way to depict female power acquisition. Actress Julia Roberts rose to fame and superstardom in Pretty Woman, a romantic comedy film that is a modern interpretation of the Cinderella myth. In one of the movie's most memorable scenes, Roberts's character, a Los Angeles prostitute named Vivian Ward, stands in the dressing room of a Rodeo Drive boutique trying on dress after dress. As the camera zooms in on Vivian's lithe body, she twirls girlishly in each glamorous outfit, clearly having the time of her life. In the next frame, she walks down the street with arms laden with shopping bags, turning heads of every wealthy man she sees. Vivian is at the height of her power here, and in case we doubt it, Roy Orbison's Oh, Pretty Woman plays as she struts down Rodeo Drive, reminding the audience that this glamorous creature we are watching is a dream girl who is the truth, no one could look as good as you (Orbison). To demonstrate her newfound power, Vivian walks into a boutique in which the salesladies refused to help her only days before. Dressed as she is in her new finery, the saleswomen fail to recognize her and are instantly solicitous until Vivian reminds them of their rudeness. Vivian may become socially acceptable, but she also surrenders the identity she has crafted for herself in order to become what Edward wants. Being a prostitute may not be the safest or most prestigious life choice, but it is one Vivian makes for herself. makeover moment marks a distinct transference of power in which Vivian transitions from being Edward's employee to his accessory. Transformed into a lady, Vivian becomes a prostitute of a different sort, being deprived of the freedom to go as she pleases. Instead, she sits in the hotel, waiting for Edward as a housewife would. At the film's outset, Vivian is the property of men of her choosing and only for as long as she chooses. Now she is distinctly Edward's. Amanda Allen, author of The Cinderella-Makers: Postwar Adolescent Girl Fiction as Commodity Tales observes that much fiction acts almost as instruction guides for women about how to attain popularity or attract a man's attention. right hairdo, the right dress and accessories are all that is needed to secure a desired social position. Even in YA Science Fiction and Fantasy (SFF), this trope is very much present, though hidden under the guise of romance. In YA Fantasy series, the female character is usually wise, resourceful, and spirited, creating the idea that she is stronger and more capable than her counterparts in other genres. Oftentimes, she teaches the male character what he needs to know in order to become a hero. At a certain point, however, she undergoes a physical transformation and emerges traditionally beautiful, sacrificing her agency and individuality under the guise of romantic love to become an object for the hero to win. It seems that nearly all of the YA Fantasy princesses in the 20th century, from Edgar Rice Burroughs's Martian Dejah Thoris, to J.R.R. Tolkien's elf-daughter Arwen, struggled in vain against the objectification foisted upon them. Dejah, despite being an accomplished and savvy political figure, is solely praised by all male characters in the novel for her extraordinary beauty. Her introduction in A Princess of Mars (1917) immediately marks her as an object for the male gaze for the novel's protagonist, John Carter, as save for her highly wrought ornaments, she was entirely naked, nor could any apparel have enhanced the beauty of her perfect and symmetrical figure (Burroughs 45). …
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