Romancing the Blog | Romance Authors and Readers Who Blog

It’s pretty obvious to me that fairy tales are the stuff that romance readers are made of. My favorite movie when I was little was the Walt Disney version of Cinderella, but I loved the story long before I ever saw the film. Someone — my mother? a family friend? — had bought me a hardcover, illustrated copy of the old Charles Perrault version when I was very small. The cover was pale pink with an iridescent illustration mounted in the center of the front, and the illustrations inside looked like old fashioned paintings, the colors muted and somehow even more magical because they had that nineteenth century feeling to them. The pumpkin that became the gilded coach had winding green vines stretching out to either side, and Cinderella’s ball gown was edged in gold. And of course the prince was handsome, with thick, dark hair and a serene expression — until, of course, his dream girl ran off, and then he looked suitably miserable.

The film held a different appeal. Yes, my little girl heart went pitter patter when Cinderella danced with the prince at the ball, but the guys over at Disney knew that preschoolers had a limited attention span for true love, and so they threw in a lot of other things to keep us entranced. I think it was my favorite Disney film because of those other details more than anything else. The idea of little mice and birds helping you dress in the morning (as opposed to your mother yelling up that breakfast was getting cold while you struggled with your head caught in the hem of your pullover) really appealed to me. The wicked step-mother and step-sisters were wonderfully vivid villains, more real and scary than any witch because they wield very authentic and possible power over Cinderella. And I adored the music — I ran around singing “bibbity bobbity boo” for days on end after I saw the movie, to the point where my mother bought me the record for my birthday.

Now I’m a bit (okay, quite a bit) older, but I still have a soft spot for Cinderella. When my parents packed their house up to move last winter, I made sure my beloved old book was one of the volumes that made it into the box and not into the pile for Goodwill. When the film first came out of the infamous Disney vaults and made an appearance on VHS, my college roommate knew to buy me a copy. And I still feel a bit of a thrill when I see Cinderella wandering around at Disneyland.

But what, exactly, is the lasting magic of this story for me? Yes, I’m a fan of the other fairy tale heroines, both original and Disney versions, but Cinderella remains my number one pick. So I sat down to analyze it, as only someone who spends way too much time thinking about romance stories can do, and I came up with a few reasons:

1. I like Cinderella as a person. This is a girl who works hard with a smile on her face, despite having been turned into a servant in her own home. She’s not stupid — she knows her step-mother and step-sisters treat her badly and that they’re in the wrong, but she sees that being bitter won’t really get her anywhere. The girl’s a smart cookie.

2. She appreciates a windfall. Cinderella may be surprised by her fairy godmother’s appearance, but she knows better than to turn down such a wonderful gift. She’s grateful, and then she makes the most of her opportunity.

3. The danger in this story is real. The step-mother and step-sisters are human, manipulative women with power in their hands. They have Cinderella at their mercy, and there’s not much I find more frightening than a real-to-life threat that a reader can relate to. Witches and vampires are lots of fun, but give me a situation that I could see happening next door, and that’s going to keep me up at night.

4. I also like the prince. This is a boy who knows a good thing when he sees it. I also like that he’s willing to hold out for true love; he won’t marry just any princess, he wants to marry this particular girl. We all want a man who will fight for us. Even if that means fondling every smelly foot in the kingdom to find the one that fits that lost shoe.

5. Which brings me to my last point: How can you not love a story that hangs on a beautiful, custom-made slipper, glass or otherwise? ( I was a shoe lover even as a child.)

Next month I’m going to Disney World with my brother and sister-in-law and my two nieces. The baby is two, and apparently obsessed with Snow White. She wore the costume last year for Halloween, and now watches the DVD repeatedly as often as her parents will let her. She told my mother “high ho” on the phone the other night. My mother mumbled something about seven dirty old men, and how my niece has a lot to learn. I just figured she’s more or less on the right track, and that there’s another romance reader in the making.

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