I've been wanting to try Gregory Maguire's books for a while. His trademark seems to be to offer new takes on old stories, which is a genre I'm interested in; he wrote the novel Wicked on which the hit musical about the Wicked Witch of the West is based (I've seen the musical and very much enjoyed it, though not so much for the story as for the great songs). However, not having read The Wizard of Oz (yet - I will get to it), I was more curious about Maguire's version of famous fairy tales, such as Cinderella and Snow White. In the end I bought Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister, but as I was not immediately hooked by the first pages, it has been standing in my bookcase for quite some time. Now I've finally read it, and I'm glad I did - it's well-written, and the narrative flows at a pleasant pace, making it a good "lunch read". To my mind, though, it works better as historical fiction than as a version of the Cinderella story.
The book opens with an old woman encountering children in the street telling each other the tale of Cinderella and her ugly stepsisters. This stirs memories in the old woman of her own past, and she wonders whether her family's story can have inspired the tale. Here's the thing, though: this set-up makes the ugly stepsisters part of a folksy tradition, and I'm not so sure they are. Neither in the Perrault version nor in the Grimm version of Cinderella are the stepsisters ugly, though Perrault points out that Cinderella is prettier. The brothers Grimm even contrast the sisters' good looks with their cold and nasty hearts. Though Disney didn't invent the ugly stepsister-part of the story - they are ugly, say, in British pantomime, and mostly played by men in drag - the animated film certainly popularised the notion. It's ironic that Disney then ditched the concept in the live-action remake and bragged about how poking fun at ugliness didn't seem appropriate "in this day and age".
Anyway, ugly stepsisters abound in other fairy tales, and Cinderella is one of the most popular fairy tales around, so it's not too much of a stretch to imagine a Disney-esque version making the rounds in the 17th century. Just thought I'd point out that if you want to make an argument against the whole "ugly - bad, beautiful - good" notion, Cinderella may not be the best starting point.
After this prologue, the novel tells the story of the old woman's past and that of her family. It's seen mainly through the eyes of Iris, the younger of two sisters who, along with their mother, arrive in 17th-century Haarlem after having been driven out of their village in England when a flood, which their dead father was supposed to be able to prevent, ruined the crops. Iris is plain, her older sister Ruth is seemingly simple and their mother Margarethe unscrupulous. They are destitute, and Margarethe's grandfather (she is of Dutch origin), to whom they wanted to turn for help, turns out to be dead. Luckily, they find work at the studio of a painter, Schoonmaker, whose picture of Iris drives home how plain she is and undermines her confidence. In time, they are taken on as servants in the home of a wealthy merchant, whose daughter Clara is in need of companionship. Clara is shy in company and never leaves the house, sheltered as she is by her anxious mother.
For the longest time, the story hardly resembles Cinderella at all. Clara, who is the Cinderella character, has the upper hand at first - she is the spoilt brat rather than Iris and Ruth. When she eventually retreats into the kitchen she does so voluntarily, and it is she who jokingly starts calling herself Cinderling and Cinderella, though Margarethe isn't slow to adopt the usage in a suitably spiteful way. It isn't until there is talk of a ball, held in honour of Marie de Medici no less and a godson of hers, that the references to the Cinderella story start popping up. Until then, the novel is more focused on the girls' lives in a time of great painting - Iris has a painter's eye and is fascinated by Schoonmaker's art - and tulip speculation. It is interesting in its own right, but I did feel slightly cheated. It was as if Maguire really wanted to write a novel about 17th-century Haarlem and forced some resemblance of Cinderella onto the story because his readers have come to expect that kind of thing from him.
But then the family are financially hit by the tulip crash, in no small part through the fault of Margarethe, and hope to have their fortune miraculously restored by the ball. That is, Margarethe hopes - the rest of the household just humours her. Iris is convinced that she has no earthly chance of catching any princeling's eye (and anyway she's in love with another man, believing her love to be unrequited), and therefore persuades the luminously beautiful Clara to attend the ball secretly. From then on, things get properly Cinderella-like, with slippers (though not in glass) and all.
Some of my concerns did disappear, at least partly, by the end of the book, not least because of a clever twist that made sense of the novel's title. But I'm not entirely convinced that historical fiction and fairy tale mix well, at least not in this instance. The stepmother and stepsisters are (unsurprisingly) the characters that interest me most in the original story, and on paper it seems a good idea to explore their motives further in a more "realistic" setting than a made-up fairy-land. But Maguire's versions of the characters didn't quite satisfy me. Margarethe is consistently wicked, but she's not clever enough to become a fascinating monster, and she doesn't care for her own daughters in the way I, at least, imagine Cinderella's stepmother should (seeing as jealousy on behalf of her daughters furnishes the fairy-tale version with a solid motive for hating her stepdaughter). I've always liked that there are two stepsisters, but only one prince, which can lead to all kinds of possible family dynamics, from downright rivalry and squabbling to a calmly thought-out plan A - plan B strategy, where perhaps one of the sisters cares for the Prince a great deal while the other doesn't care a button and is prepared to support her sister's prior claim. By sidelining Ruth I thought Maguire had opted for a cop-out solution, but Ruth plays an important part of the story in the end, so I guess I can't complain. Iris is a strong protagonist, a generally good egg without being too perfect - it would be unnatural if she didn't resent Clara from time to time.
My main problem with the novel is Clara. Maguire hasn't just flipped the coin and made her bad and Iris good, for which I'm thankful - I get irritated when revisionist takes on fairy tales go down that road. Clara is capable of acting nobly when push comes to shove and cares about her stepsisters in her way. But consciously or unconsciously, she's a pain. I think we're meant to feel sorry for her and the hardships she has to face by being so beautiful she attracts every man's eye. Maybe I'm just catty, but I have a hard time buying the whole "beauty can be a curse" argument. I'm sure it's not always easy to be breathtakingly beautiful, but I believe most of us would be prepared to take the problems on board along with all the privileges a stunning face (and figure) ensure. Clara's self-pity grates, and it's a mystery to me why Iris, who suffers a great deal from her (partly imagined) ugliness, doesn't punch the girl in the face.
The original Cinderella can be perceived as a bit of a ninny, but for us as readers (or audience) to root for a Cinders she does need to be good. Disney's live-action version of Cinderella may have been completely unnecessary, but they did make the right choice, in my opinion, when they hammered in the "have courage and be kind" message. Kindness and endurance are Cinderella's trump cards, and if she doesn't display enough of these characteristics she risks coming across as either a sly piece, unpleasantly abrasive or, as in Clara's case, someone in love with her own victim status.
All the same, I liked the novel, and I'll be checking out Maguire's Mirror, Mirror. However, I'll try to get more into the historical novel-vibe with that one, and not expect to find anything approaching my favourite versions of Snow White or the Evil Queen in it.
