The Red Shoes $11.99 - Therapy for Reading Said Story $&@$#!

Yesterday passed swiftly as work was busy from start to finish and then I had to race home to get my daughter ready for dance class. Okay, I told her to get herself ready or raised my voice repeatedly for her to get herself ready. I didn’t tie up her hair as is required, and then my husband brought her there. It really was his fault as he gave me the out on whether or not I needed to go. And in my defense, I did bring her to gymnastics when he was at work on Saturday. So as not to feel that we have a completely uneven partnership/marriage, I did the dishes while they were out. They fetched the dinner and then it was off to the bath for my daughter. I have decided we need to be better about a decent bedtime and be better about reading every night. She is almost 7 so we read one together and then I read one for fun. Then she was to get into bed, after brushing her teeth and listen to a Netflix movie. I know I know. We are working on that too. Well as I sat pretending to work on my book she came trudging out of her room whining with tear-stained cheeks and tired eyes. Her kindle and iPad were both dead and needed to charge. The clock blinked 10:15 pm. I wasn’t thrilled, but she asked me to read her a story. I caved and followed her to her room. I sifted through her books on the floor. She had stacked them to make a desk for one of her dolls. Please don’t ask me to explain the inner workings of her magical playtime. I found an oldie. One my aunt bought me years ago when I was a child. It has to be okay, my sweet loving Aunt Cyndie surely wouldn’t want to damage my psyche. Fairy tales by Hans Christian Anderson. I tried this book once before and didn’t like the first one about the brothers. North Wind, South Wind…something something. So, I flipped through until I found a safe title. Ahhh. The Red Shoes. This should be okay, I think. I mean, I know what these stories are like, I get it. But I’m still hoping I chose something not terribly horrifying.

Well, as she fell asleep, I continued to read until the end, dumbstruck. It might have been better if I just let her watch It, or read her It. This story was traumatizing. It’s hard to read in a soothing voice as you speak of feet being hacked off to a sweet sleepy child. Don’t worry, I made it work. I loved these stories, when I was a preteen, so don’t misunderstand what I’m saying, but reading with my 41-year-old brain I was stunned. I interpreted this story (in the following, very brief synopsis) like this: a poor young girl, who could never afford decent shoes, whose name, by the way, is Karen, (yeah, another reason to be a little terrified) finally was gifted a pair of cheap reddish maroon shoes by an old shoemaker that took pity on her. She wore them the day her mother was laid to rest. Yes, her mother died, and she wore her first pair of red shoes to the funeral. They weren’t great, but they were decent. Better than the wooden pair that chafed her ankles. She was soon adopted by an elderly woman that clothed and fed her and took her to church. At some point, the girl receives beautiful new red shoes that the old woman would not have allowed had she realized they were red, for her confirmation I believe. Anyway, long story short, she wore them several times against her adopted mom’s wishes and was punished for her vanity as she only paid attention to the shoes during church. Her punishment doled out by some strange man with a red beard was the inability to remove the shoes and they forced her to continuously dance for days until the shoes grew to her feet. She danced for days and days until she found the executioner's house and begged him to cut off her feet and thereby the shoes. He did.

She wanted to be forgiven by God but every time she went back to the church to repent the shoes showed up. Apparently, they were not done partying and dancing all over town, but did not want her to go in. She was scared so she ran back home…I’m sorry hobbled back home on her fake wooden feet she was given. After a while (I’m guessing based on the description of her throughout the book she is still a young girl) an angel transported her to church. Hooray! She was forgiven at last and allowed to attend church. She had repented and she soaked in the beauty of everything the made up the church, from paintings, to singing and to the people. There were no shoes to distract her. Happy ending! Oh wait, it wasn’t over. Her reward for finally being forgiven and finding true (not vain) happiness -- she died. (blink blink..huh?) But don’t worry, the way the story tells it, that IS the happy ending because she went to Heaven. Goodnight my daughter, sleep tight, don’t let the red dancing shoes bite. What in the blazes!?

The story is about her vanity on the surface. The story tells us this, but to me, as I looked at this story, I thought what a rough deal this little girl got? I mean, first, her name is Karen, so I know she is awesome, and not at all vain. Karen’s are simply awesome. But seriously, she was practically homeless and the day her mom was laid to rest, put in the ground, dead, she wore red shoes…of course she would have this obsession with red shoes. I saw this as a connection with her mother. Her adoration for the shoes, in my opinion, was this connection to her mother and the last time she was near her, though dead. And instead of saying this little girl needs love and counseling (it’s the time I know, it was published in 1845) she apparently needed her feet hacked off and to die.

I know, I’m reading too much into a fable. It was designed to scare children into not being vain…and at that time, scaring little girls (especially poor ones) into not being vain and coveting things outside the church. It’s interesting commentary of the times then and how much they have changed and how little they have changed in another respect. Or it’s simply a story I took way too seriously.