| by Michelle Ruggaber OSCAR WILDE knows what his audiences want. This is hardly a controversial claim, given Wilde's fame for pushing the envelope, bringing decorum just to the breaking point in his lectures and at dinner parties. In the famous preface to The Picture of Dorian Gray that he wrote in response to negative reviews and in the revisions to the book that tone down the homosexual themes, Wilde again acknowledges the necessity of playing to an audience. (1) However, in Josephine M. Guy and Ian Small's study Oscar Wilde's Profession: Writing and the Culture Industry in the Late Nineteenth Century (2000) this claim seems to be called into question, at least in terms of Wilde's fairy tale collections, The Happy Prince and Other Tales (1888) and The House of Pomegranates (1891). (2) While Guy and Small readily point out the differing marketing strategies that Wilde and his publisher employed in the production of each volume to appeal to a wide range of readers, they dismiss the idea that the creative content of the collection is an equally clear indicator of the different intended audiences for each collection. They assert, "Put simply: the stories in A House of Pomegranates were not different enough to signal unequivocally that they were intended for adults, and this confirms the suspicion that Wilde's and his publisher's identification of them as adult material was a marketing rather than creative decision." (3) As I will discuss, Guy and Small are correct in their assertion that the collections were marketed differently, but they too readily dismiss the evidence that shows significant creative differences between the two collections. The stories in Pomegranates do, in fact, "signal unequivocally that they were intended for adults." The stories do suggest significant creative differences and each collection implicitly acknowledges a different audience. The first collection tells tales of love, friendship, and sacrifice that lead to happiness, redemption, and stability; the second seeks to disrupt calm and comfort with details of violence, cruelty, and betrayal and calls into question the traditional categories of right and wrong. The first contains stories short enough for children to enjoy in one setting; the second strives for complexity of plot and confusion of morals. Overall, in contrast to The Happy Prince and Other Stories, A House of Pomegranates consists of stories of a dark nature with complex plots, which, while they can still be enjoyed by children, are meant to challenge and destabilize the expectations of adults. (4) If the stories of The Happy Prince are the songs of innocence, then these are the songs of experience. The publication history of both collections implies that, minimally, the books were intended to be marketed towards different audiences. In a June 1888 letter to Florence Stoker, Wilde calls stories in The Happy Prince "simple," an adjective that describes the physical nature of the book, as well. (5) Guy and Small explain: "[T]he stories in [the book version] of The Happy Prince are set in large type with wide margins; the format could have been designed with the child reader in mind." (6) However, Wilde's letters indicate a desire to market A House of Pomegranates to an audience expanded to include adults. In a 12 November 1891 letter he describes the forthcoming Pomegranates as similar to The Happy Prince, "only more elaborate," (7) and in a letter to Dodd, Mead, & Co., the American publishers of Pomegranates, he requests, "Gentlemen, It will give me great pleasure to arrange with you for the publication of my book The House of Pomegranates in America.... I hope the book will be well printed and bound." (8) Certainly a book constructed as Wilde suggests would cost more than A Happy Prince or any other book designed for children, and Wilde's concern with the quality of the binding of Pomegranates implies a desire for it to belong to the library of an adult rather than a child. Guy and Small continue: "Wilde added dedications to various society women, his wife included, to the stories collected in A House of Pomegranates. Part of his intention may have been to signal the adult content of the volume, or to indicate that it was the kind of expensive book which a society woman might buy for herself, as much as for her children." (9) Although Wilde's life is a lesson in paying attention to an audience, a response he wrote to a review of Pomegranates suggests disgust at the idea that he had any intention of writing to a particular audience, much less to one audience rather than another. Wilde wrote in the Pall Mall Gazette in late 1891, "Now in building this House of Pomegranates I had about as much intention of pleasing the British child as I had of pleasing the British public.... The artist seeks to realize in a certain material his immaterial idea of beauty, and thus to transform an idea into an ideal.... The artist has no other object in making things." (10) However, while Wilde's primary objective in writing Pomegranates may have been to "transform an idea into an ideal," his secondary objective was the much more pragmatic one of selling books, and his decisions about bibliographic style affected to whom he planned on selling books. The style of printing and binding is not the only indicator we have of the shift in audience from A Happy Prince to A House of Pomegranates, though. Contrary to the claim that there are no significant differences between Wilde's two fairy tale collections, differences in the style, plots, and themes between the stories in each collection indicate a shift in audience from children to adults. Further, this shift in audience allows Wilde to build on themes he had established in earlier works, like "Lord Arthur Savile's Crime," and would build on in later works, like The Importance of Being Earnest. While themes like the questioning of institutions, the value of beauty, and moral complexity appear in both collections, the adult emphasis of A House of Pomegranates increases the likelihood that Wilde's audience will seriously consider those themes. (11) Even before examining the text of the stories themselves, we can see from the title of each collection that A House of Pomegranates is more appropriate for an adult audience than for the young audience suggested by the title The Happy Prince and Other Tales. The first story in the collection is "The Happy Prince," and the title of the collection primarily serves to advertise that fact, and the fact that there will be other stories in addition to that one. The title also introduces the idyllic tone familiar to children's stories. The word "prince" is reminiscent of Prince Charming, for example, and this particular prince is neither jubilant, nor ecstatic, nor blithe. He is simply happy, and the image of a happy prince is one that children can easily understand. The same cannot be said for the image described by the title of A House of Pomegranates. Not only is Pomegranates not the title of any of the stories in it, but it also stands in stark contrast to the benign tone of the first collection's title, as it alludes to the myth of Proserpine, which explicitly connects pomegranates with the underworld. (12) Wilde's use of the image in the title implies that the stories contained within will be universally dark, irresistibly alluring, and potentially damning. Wilde just as easily could have named his second collection The Young King and Other Tales, following the example set by The Happy Prince, but he made the decision to create an entirely new title that would describe thematically all of the stories in it, not just the first. The contrasting levels of complexity of the two titles are only the first of many indicators that the themes of the stories themselves will also differ significantly. A comparison of the length, detail, and sentence structure of the stories in each collection reveals that the themes introduced in the titles carry over to the stylistic devices Wilde uses in the stories. The stories in The Happy Prince average just over six pages each in length (approximately 3100 words), while the stories in Pomegranates average fifteen pages (approximately 8200 words). The fact that the Pomegranates stories are more than double the length of their predecessors would not be as significant if the stories were also simple in style. However, much of the additional length of those stories is due to the extreme detail in some of the descriptions. For example, in "The Fisherman and His Soul," Wilde includes far more complicated details about the journeys of the Soul than he does about the many trips the Miller sends little Hans on in "The Devoted Friend." The Soul explains: | |
When the dwellers in the villages saw us coming, they poisoned the
wells and fled to the hill-summits. We fought with the Magadae who
are born old, and grow younger and younger every year, and die when
they are little children; and with the Laktroi who say that they
are the sons of tigers, and paint themselves yellow and black; and
with the Aurantes who bury their dead on the tops of trees, and
themselves live in dark caverns lest the Sun, who is their god,
should slay them; and with the Krimnians who worship a crocodile,
and give it ear-tings of green glass, and feed it with butter and
fresh fowls; and with the Agazonbae, who are dog-faced; and with the
Sibans, who have horses' feet, and run more swiftly than horses. (13) | | All of this information is secondary to the outcome of the Soul's journey, which is that he finds the Mirror of Wisdom. The extreme detail may or may not be necessary to show the lengths to which the Soul journeys, but they are not details that would be likely to keep a child's interest for very long. Additionally, they stand in stark contrast to the minimal details the Linnet uses to describe little Hans's journey through a storm to fetch the doctor in "The Devoted Friend": "What a dreadful storm it was! The night was so black that little Hans could hardly see, and the wind was so strong that he could hardly stand. However, he was very courageous, and after he had been walking about three hours, he arrived at the Doctor's house, and knocked at the door." (14) In this scene, the required details to show the danger little Hans is in and the severity of the storm are present, but the description quickly gives way to action, which a child would find much more engaging. In addition, the length of sentences in the two passages varies greatly. The first passage, from "The Fisherman," consists of only two sentences and a complicated combination of clauses; the second passage, on the other hand, consists of three sentences, all of which are fairly simple in construction and much more amenable to a child's understanding. An occasional long and detailed digression in a story or two would not be enough to prove Wilde's shift in audience from children to adults if it were not coupled with an increased complexity of plot. Comprehension of the plots of the stories in Pomegranates requires a high level of questioning and critical thinking, and the plots do not offer traditional morals. For example, at the end of "The Birthday of the Infanta" the Infanta seems to be the cruel and selfish character for her request, "For the future let those who come to play with me have no hearts." (15) But is the cruelty the sole fault of the Infanta? Is it the fault of the Dwarf for being so innocent? What about the world that values beauty? Since the Dwarf dies, does the story teach us that ugliness is fatal? Can the Infanta be held accountable for a lack of emotional sensitivity when she sees her father indulge so excessively in emotion that he cannot let go of his wife, who has been dead for twelve years? Unlike the stories in The Happy Prince, this story does not attempt to answer these questions, but it challenges adults to examine the way perceptions of beauty affect their behavior. "The Fisherman" brings up similar uncertainty. Why does the Fisherman seem to be better off without his soul? Isn't the soul what connects us to God? In addition, although the priest ultimately agrees to bless the sea when he sees flowers bloom in the grave of the Fisherman and the Mermaid, his blessing seems to have negative consequences. Once the priest blesses the sea, "never again in the corner of the Fullers' Field grew flowers of any kind, but the field remained barren even as before. Nor came the Sea-folk into the bay as they had been wont to do, for they went to another part of the sea." (16) Why are the two symbols of love in the story, the Mermaid and the flowers, banished after the "happy ending" when the priest blesses the sea? What does this say about the efficacy of religious institutions? Finally, the Star-Child seems to learn humility and goodness through his search for his parents. He honors the good people, exiles the bad, teaches "love and loving-kindness and charity," feeds the hungry, clothes the naked, and brings peace and prosperity to his kingdom. Why, then, the final paragraph? The last words the reader is left with are, "Yet ruled he not long, so great had been his suffering, and so bitter the fire of his testing, for after the space of three years he died. And he who came after him ruled evilly." (17) What does this story teach us? That it is better to live selfishly, because if you suffer for others, you'll die? That all sacrifice is useless because evil will triumph in the end? The way individual readers answer these questions is not at issue here; what is important is that it is difficult to read these stories without asking such unsettling questions. Although the tales in Pomegranates may be enjoyed by children, they are meant to be savored by adults. The stories of The Happy Prince, on the other hand, lend themselves well to being read as teaching stories, and could easily be used by parents to reinforce in their children traditional values like selflessness, charity, and love. As Richard Ellmann writes, "Most of the characters [in The Happy Prince] are brought to recognition of themselves, and a recognition of ugliness and misery. Wilde celebrates the power of love as greater than the power of evil or the power of good." (18) Even while the tales may allow for other readings, the traditional understanding Ellmann presents is the one that a reader often sees most clearly. Many of the tales in The Happy Prince can be read as if/then statements: if you sacrifice yourself for others, then you will find your reward in heaven; if you help those who are in need, then others will help you later. Even "The Devoted Friend," which ends with a conversation attempting to distinguish a moral, has one. (19) Although the story ends without anyone flatly stating what the moral is, the story is full of morals in the guise of the Miller's aphorisms about what makes a good friend: | |
"There is no good in my going to see little Hans as long as the snow
lasts," the Miller used to say to his wife, "for when people are in
trouble they should be left alone, and not be bothered by visitors.
That at least is my idea about friendship, and I am sure I am right.
So I shall wait till the spring comes, and then I shall pay him a
visit, and he will be able to give me a large basket of primroses,
and that will make him so happy."
... "But could we not ask little Hans up here?" said the Miller's
youngest son. "If poor Hans is in trouble I will give him half my
porridge, and show him my white rabbits."
"What a silly boy you are!" cried the Miller; "I really don't know
what is the use of sending you to school. You seem not to learn
anything. Why, if little Hans came up here, and saw our warm fire,
and our good supper, and our great cask of red wine, he might get
envious, and envy is a most terrible thing, and would spoil
anybody's nature. I certainly will not allow Hans's nature to be
spoiled. I am his best friend, and I will always watch over him,
and see that he is not led into any temptations. Besides, if Hans
came here, he might ask me to let him have some flour on credit,
and that I could not do. Flour is one thing, and friendship is
another, and they should not be confused. Why, the words are
spelt differently, and mean quite different things. Everybody
can see that." (20) | | The absurdity and selfishness in the Miller's response to the generosity of his son, tied with his irrational argument against giving little Hans flour because flour and friendship "are spelt differently," is a stronger moral than any traditional ending could be. For all that could be said about the fact that little Hans allows himself to be abused by the Miller, the Miller's speeches throughout the story contain the implicit moral that a true devoted friend should not act selfishly. The only story in the collection that seems devoid of a moral is "The Remarkable Rocket," but it too could be used to teach children valuable lessons. According to Bruno Bettelheim, "Morality is not the issue in [amoral] tales, but rather, assurance that one can succeed." (21) The self-satisfaction that the rocket feels when he finally ignites and explodes comes from his success--"I knew I should create a great sensation" (22)--and teaches the value of resolve. In addition, the stories of The Happy Prince avoid the vivid cruelty and violence that are present in Pomegranates. (23) The only episode in The Happy Prince that might qualify as violent is the sacrifice of the Nightingale in "The Nightingale and the Rose." However, the Nightingale's sacrifice is more poignant than anything else. The Nightingale is in obvious pain as she moves closer and closer to the thorn to thrust it into her heart and create a red rose, but the pain is her own sacrifice, not something imposed on her: "[T]he Nightingale pressed closer against the thorn, and the thorn touched her heart, and a fierce pang of pain shot through her. Bitter, bitter was the pain, and wilder and wilder grew her song, for she sang of the Love that is perfected by Death, of the Love that dies not in the tomb." (24) Throughout the Nightingale's death scene, the narrator returns to the fact that she is making a sacrifice for love, a sacrifice that no one asked her to make. The eventual rejection of the Student by the Professor's daughter calls into question the sentimentality of the Nightingale's sacrifice, but since neither the Student nor the Professor's daughter knows of the Nightingale's sacrifice, we know that her sacrifice had neither a positive nor a negative effect on their actions. The Nightingale's sacrifice is ultimately futile, but it does not approach the cruelty present in the Pomegranates stories. The Student and the Professor's daughter are unaware of the pain they cause the Nightingale, and it is not, therefore, correct to call her death cruel. In contrast, the stories in Pomegranates are full of characters who knowingly inflict pain, often without remorse. For example, in "The Fisherman," the Soul convinces the young Fisherman to beat and attempt to murder their host; the Star-Child pokes the eyes out of young animals, throws rocks at people, and is whipped, starved, and thrown in a dungeon. In perhaps the most painful instance of cruelty, the Dwarf in "The Birthday of the Infanta" regrets his own existence once he learns what he looks like. | |
When the truth dawned upon him, he gave a wild cry of despair, and
fell sobbing to the ground. So it was he who was misshapen and
hunchbacked, foul to look at and grotesque. He himself was the
monster, and it was at him that all the children had been laughing,
and the little Princess who he had thought loved him--she too had
been merely mocking at his ugliness, and making merry over his
twisted limbs. Why had they not left him in the forest, where there
was no mirror to tell him how loathsome he was? Why had
his father not killed him, rather than sell him to his shame? (25) | | The reaction of the Dwarf to his own reflection demonstrates a world far crueler than any of the worlds in The Happy Prince. Whether the Dwarf's reaction stems from his innocence of the real world, from the behavior of the Infanta, or from a world that values appearance over all else, the Dwarf experiences self-loathing, and his pain remains pointless. As the Infanta witnesses a poor creature wish himself dead in a moment of clarity about the cruelty of the world, she returns to her needs, her selfishness. The Dwarf dies, and she learns nothing. There is no resolution, no explicit lesson. The physical violence and cruelty in the eponymous young King's dreams pale in comparison to the emotional trauma of the Dwarf, but their graphic nature still indicates an adult audience. In the young King's various dreams he sees "pale, sickly-looking children," a slave master "[take] a painted bow in his hand and [shoot] one of [the slaves] in the throat," a slave forced to dive for pearls who resurfaces with "blood [gushing] from his ears and nostrils," and men who "[swarm] up the crag like ants." (26) Combined with episodes in the other stories, this striking imagery of cruelty creates a world that is dark and disturbing, a world that likely would stimulate thought in an adult but create nightmares in a child. Perhaps the most striking contrast between the two collections of fairy tales lies in the differences between two seemingly similar stories. "The Happy Prince" and "The Young King," the first stories of each collection, share more than similar titles. They also share similar themes and main characters, but the execution and resolution of the plots differ significantly, and the latter explores themes that the former ignores. While both engage questions of poverty, wealth, and materialism, the first offers a fairly straightforward indictment of a system that values wealth over charity, while the second invites the reader to question those traditional ideas. The reader comes to understand the Happy Prince as a character concerned with making people's lives better, one who gives of himself until there is nothing more to give. Three times, the Swallow removes precious stones from the Happy Prince and gives them to the poor people they see in the town, and each time follows a similar pattern: the Swallow plucks the stone, flies to the needy person, unseen drops the stone near the person, and returns to the statue, where the scene is repeated. Although the reader never sees the recipient of the Happy Prince's generosity make use of the gift, the implication is that the precious stones, or later the leaves of the gold, bring bodily and financial comfort to the people of the town. The assumption of the Happy Prince's heart and the Swallow's body into heaven confirms this interpretation--they find their reward in eternal salvation. Certainly it would be possible for the resistant reader to find reason to question this interpretation and outcome, but there is no clear indication in the text that the story can or should be read as more than a straightforward fairy tale. "The Young King," however, focuses more on thematic complexities than the similar "The Happy Prince." Both stories involve young monarchs with wealth at their disposal, and in both stories the monarch ultimately decides that it is unfair that he should have wealth when others suffer. However, the execution of this theme in "The Young King" is quite different. When the reader first meets the young King, he has just been recovered from a secret upbringing in the forest and is awaiting his coronation while glorying in the cape, crown, and scepter that are being made for the event. The night before the ceremony, he falls asleep and has three dreams, all of which allow him to see the exploitation of the people who toil to make his beautiful garments. He awakens and, like the Happy Prince, sees the poverty and oppression around him. However, two events after this realization prevent this story from being as clear-cut as "The Happy Prince": the young King's reaction to his finery and the townspeople's reaction to his desire to commune with the poor. When the young King sees the beautiful golden cape, crown, and scepter that have been prepared for him, he refuses to wear them: "Take these things away, and hide them from me. Though it be the day of my coronation, I will not wear them. For on the loom of Sorrow, and by the white hands of Pain, has this my robe been woven. There is Blood in the heart of the ruby, and Death in the heart of the pearl." (27) The young King refuses to wear the royal garments because of the pain they have caused those who made them, yet he does not request that these expensive garments be sold and the money given to the poor. Rather, he requests that they be hidden from him, an act that does not do anyone any good. The reader encounters a similarly troubling reaction when the townspeople see the young King's resolve to dress as a commoner. The young King is able to salve his own conscience by not wearing the robe, but he forgets that, as a man in the crowd points out, "out of the luxury of the rich cometh the life of the poor[.] By your pomp we are nurtured, and your vices give us bread. To toil for a hard master is bitter, but to have no master to toil for is more bitter still. Thinkest thou that the ravens will feed us? And what cure hast thou for these things?" (28) And the young King fails to provide a satisfactory answer. Wilde complicates the situation further by juxtaposing the man's protest with the statements of the weaver in the young King's first dream. In this dream, the weaver counters the young King's naivete by explaining, "In war ... the strong make slaves of the weak, and in peace the rich make slaves of the poor. We must work to live, and they give us such mean wages that we die." (29) Is it better to set the workers free but not provide them with resources to live, or to keep them "enslaved," but give them just enough money to live? In his quest to be simple and selfless, he denies many people a livelihood without offering them a solution. The complications in "The Young King" create a much more troubling story than the simplicity of "The Happy Prince" does. Whereas the Happy Prince is able to practice charity without seeing the effects, the young King is challenged to live a life of charity that serves more people than himself. The structure of "The Young King" is more complicated than that of "The Happy Prince" as well, primarily in its adaptation of fairy tale conventions. Both stories, like many of the stories in each collection, use traditional fairy tale motifs as part of their structure, but "The Young King" plays with and deviates from that structure more than "The Happy Prince." Both stories contain plot events that occur in threes (the Swallow delivers three jewels and the young King has three dreams), both have a royal figure as the central character, and both have nameless characters, or characters with general names, like "the young King." (30) However, "The Happy Prince" does not challenge these conventions, while "The Young King" does so extensively. The young King's early childhood life--secretly raised by commoners in the woods--is a fairly common device in fairy tales; Sleeping Beauty was also raised in the woods, and Cinderella lived a humble life before becoming royalty. However, while most stories that use this device rely on it heavily as a means of describing the personality of a character, Wilde truncates the young King's history into one long paragraph at the beginning of the story. Once he completes the necessary exposition, he never returns to it again. He does, though, use a convention at length that would be familiar to educated adults, but not to children--the medieval morality play. In the young King's third dream, he encounters a work force governed by Death and Avarice, who are aided in their work by Ague, Fever, and Plague, all personified. As did the original morality plays, this third dream teaches the young King a lesson--to give up greed. The dream instructs the young King in a traditional and conventional manner; it is not, however, a manner that would have been familiar to child readers. "The Young King," like the other tales in Pomegranates, is a fairy tale, but it is a fairy tale more attuned to adults, and therefore uses conventions, like groupings of threes, and themes, like a questioning of hierarchy, that would be familiar to adults. Oscar Wilde is an author who built his career--not to mention his life--on being difficult to pin down, and his two collections of fairy tales certainly represent that elusiveness. An increased complexity of plot, structure, and theme in A House of Pomegranates allows Wilde to challenge his readers to read his tales and their world in a new way. In A House of Pomegranates Wilde challenges aesthetic principles, questions religious institutions and hierarchies, and speaks of moral complexities. With A Happy Prince and Other Tales, Wilde shows his ability to connect with the innocence of children. A House of Pomegranates demonstrates a desire to reshape the styles and themes of The Happy Prince into stories for the adult audience that can seriously consider them. Notes Acknowledgments: I would like to thank Michael Patrick Gillespie and M. V. Dugherty for helpful suggestions on this article. (1.) Richard Ellmann, Oscar Wilde (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1987), 322. (2.) Throughout this article I will refer to individual stories without stipulating in which collection they appear. The Happy Prince and Other Stories consists of "The Happy Prince," "The Nightingale and the Rose," "The Selfish Giant," "The Devoted Friend," and "The Remarkable Rocket." A House of Pomegranates consists of "The Young King," "The Birthday of the Infanta," "The Fisherman and his Soul," and "The Star-Child." All references come from Oscar Wilde, The Complete Works of Oscar Wilde: Stories, Plays, Poems, and Essays (New York: Harper & Row, Perennial Library, 1989). (3.) Josephine M. Guy and Ian Small, Oscar Wilde's Profession: Writing and the Culture Industry in the Late Nineteenth Century (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), 81. (4.) Clearly, adults would also be an audience for The Happy Prince. The fact that it is the more accessible of the two volumes does not mean it is not enjoyable for adult audiences. My argument, therefore, is not reciprocal. I am arguing that A House of Pomegranates is not as appropriate for children as A Happy Prince, not the reverse. (5.) Oscar Wilde, More Letters of Oscar Wilde, Rupert Hart-Davis, ed. (New York: Vanguard, 1985), 73. (6.) Guy and Small, 231. (7.) Wilde to Mrs. W. H. Grenfell, 12 November 1891, More Letters, 100. (8.) Wilde to Dodd, Mead, & Co., 1891, More Letters, 106. (9.) Guy and Small, 231. (10.) Oscar Wilde, Selected Letters of Oscar Wilde, Rupert Hart-Davis, ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1979), 99. (11.) My purpose in this article is to compare the two collections rather than to focus on interpreting any of the individual stories. However, for examples of various types of analyses of the different stories see Jack Zipes, When Dreams Came True: Classical Fairy Tales and Their Tradition (New York: Routledge, 1979), 134-40 and Fairy Tales and the Art of Subversion: The Classical Genre for Children and the Process of Civilization (New York: Wildman Press, 1983), 111-21; Michael Patrick Gillespie, Oscar Wilde and the Poetics of Ambiguity (Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 1996), 26-31; Emmanuel Vernadakis, "Wilde's Reading of Clemens Alexandrinus," Rediscovering Oscar Wilde, George Sandulescu, ed. (Gerrards Cross: Smythe, 1994), 421-31; Clifton Snider, "Eros and Logos in Some Fairy Tales by Oscar Wilde: A Jungian Interpretation," Victorian Newsletter, 84 (Fall 1993), 1-8; John Allen Quintus, "The Moral Prerogative in Oscar Wilde: A Look at the Fairy Tales," Virginia Quarterly, 55 (1977), 708-17. (12.) The title of A House of Pomegranates alludes to darkness, entrapment, death, and the underworld. References to pomegranates appear in some of the individual stories in the collection, but the title of the volume carries with it references to the myth of Proserpine of which only educated adults would have been aware. The myth tells of Ceres's search for her daughter Proserpine, who had been carried off to the underworld by Pluto. Ceres petitions Jupiter to get her back. Jupiter agrees, but only on the condition that Proserpine not have eaten anything during her time in the underworld; if she had, he would not allow her to leave. Ceres agrees to the condition, and Jupiter sends Mercury and Spring to retrieve Proserpine, but the messengers soon discover that she had eaten a few seeds of a pomegranate that Pluto had offered her. As a result, Proserpine's complete return to is impossible; Pluto, however, agrees to a compromise in which Proserpine spends half of her time with Ceres (on earth) and half of her time in the underworld with Pluto. See Thomas Bulfinch, Bulfinch's Mythology: The Age of Fable, The Legends of Charlemagne, The Age of Chivalry, Abridged by Edmund Fuller (New York: Dell, 1959), 54-55. (13.) Wilde, Complete Works, 258. (14.) Ibid., 307. (15.) Ibid., 247. (16.) Ibid., 272. (17.) Ibid., 284. (18.) Ellmann, 299. (19.) I am grateful to an anonymous reviewer for pointing out the irony inherent in the presence of a moral, albeit implicit, in a story that explicitly argues against one, and the likelihood that adults would be more able to recognize and contemplate the irony than children. However, this does not change my claim that "A Devoted Friend," like the other stories in The Happy Prince, is more accessible to children and works as a didactic tale without requiring recognition of the irony. (20.) Wilde, Complete Works, 302-303. (21.) Bettelheim, 10. (22.) Wilde, Complete Works, 318. (23.) I recognize that many fairy tales in their original non-Disney versions contain violence and cruelty on par with or surpassing that in Wilde's tales; my intention is not to compare Wilde's tales with all fairy tales, only to compare the tales in the two collections with each other. (24.) Wilde, Complete Works, 295. (25.) Ibid., 246. (26.) Ibid., 226-29. (27.) Ibid., 230. (28.) Ibid., 231-32. (29.) Ibid., 227. (30.) For more on the traditional characteristics of fairy tales, see Bruno Bettelheim, The Uses of Enchantment: The Meaning and Importance of Fairy Tales (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1976); Zipes, Dreams, which contains a summary of Vladimir Propp's work; and Zipes, Subversion. | |
MICHELLE RUGGABER
Marquette University
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