Women who grab power, or try, are generally reviled or at least held in suspicion (see the day’s news for examples). Mistrusted. This was true throughout our long history, when stepmothers were always evil and maidens always powerless and pure. When independent or sexual women were accused of witchcraft and burned at the stake-that’s not some cute historical narrative-those women were murdered. Funny how the Brothers Grimm were writing their misogynistic tales full of violence toward women about the same time. And all the women and girls watching learned a powerful lesson. Namely, it’s safer to hide under the protection of a man, shut up and keep your head and skirts down. Ever wonder how those themes play out in society today?
Much serious scholarly research has already been done on this subject, but I have written an unserious poem about Snow White’s stepmother for an assignment in my creative writing class. (See also Forbidden Fruit) I know it’s not a serious poem because my professor told me it isn’t. Maybe that is why it was fun to write.
Here it is:
Dead Madonna
Her loving arms a memory now
An intruder’s face emerges in the
Mirror, Mirror on the wall
Who is the fairest of us all?
No longer you, faded queen
The Virgin waits with her little men
unsullied body
a heady cocktail
of youth and beauty
waits to quench the thirst of the prince.
She is the only draught worthy of rescue
Resignation to fate her only
hope of elevation
Attempting escape
Renders her attributes mute
Else she will fall
To the dark magic of assertion
The witchcraft of power
The banishment of desire
In that case
Boil her lungs and
boil her liver
Use plenty of salt
Set a place for one
Lips smacking
bloody in the middle
Mirror Mirror…
Still the young one
Why is it only Witches
demand a place at the table?
And where is her father now?
He rides away with
a nudge and a wink
and his men and his horses
pockets full of money and deeds
and larger concerns
And so I ask you
Do we write our stories or do the tales tell us?
