Once Upon a Time
My introduction into the world of archetypes came when I was a girl by way of fairytales and nursery rhymes. To this day Rumplestilskin and the Snow Queen repeatedly show up in my poetry. When I first saw the kiln at the university where my potter son was a student, memories were stirred of Hansel and Gretel pushing the witch that had imprisoned them into the oven. When I’m in the garden, I watch rabbits and wonder which one is Peter. Because of the story of Cinderella, a pumpkin will always be magical to me.
In all native cultures there are stories and creation myths to illustrate truths that can’t easily be grasped directly. Jesus used parables to teach. Professor of Mythology, Joseph Campbell said, “A myth is a lie that tells the truth.”
Growing up in a working class family, the literature available to me was How Now Brown Cow and the stories of Hans Christian Anderson. All summer long I tested the meter of language with jump rope and bouncing ball songs. My mostly Irish father spouted nursery rhymes, both traditional and made up. Ours was an oral tradition of reading, reciting, and singing out loud.
As a girl I always held out hope that I would hear the nightingale’s song in the woods. I guarded myself against adults who could have been the Snow Queen in disguise. Whenever I went out walking, I had the urge to drop bread crumbs to mark the way. Rhymes like Hey Diddle Diddle the cat and the Fiddle fostered an early love of sound and world play.
Fairytales and nursery rhymes also gave me access into an inner life. They provided a context of meaning for the unexplained mysteries. Themes played out in fairytales – fate, survival, temptation, loss, courage, fear, and perseverance – are all the ingredients that make for good storytelling. Stories mirror life and give insight into the underpinnings of it.
May 6th, 2008 1:51 pm
Jesus intended that people understand the parable of the sower. After all, he went right on to explain it (Mark 4:14-20).
Different people respond differently when confronted with the truth. Some of the sown seed (representing the Word of God) is eaten by birds (snatched away by the enemy). Some falls on shallow soil and fails to survive in the hot sun (hearers not rooted in the truth). Some is choked by thorns (cares of this life). But some of the seed falls on good soil and produces a crop (hearers who accept God’s truth and produces spiritual fruit).
May 6th, 2008 4:22 pm
Archetypes are great for writers and poets and creative types. They make parts whole and capture souls. I have always been partial to Greek mythology. The story of Daphne in particular always seemed to resonate with me. I think perhaps because I grew up with Disney’s watered down fairytales, they never had as much power as they could have when I was young.
Great post. You have me thinking.
May 6th, 2008 5:10 pm
I can hear Dad saying…..”Georgie porgie pudding and pie, kissed all the girls and made them cry. When Georgie Porgie came out to play all the girls ran away!” And of course there were many others.
May 6th, 2008 5:23 pm
Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear. Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair. Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn’t fuzzy was he? That was my favorite. We were lucky dad was so fun loving and was a treasure trove of stories and rhymes.
Some of those Disney fairy tales worked on me. Bambi and Snow White especially.
May 6th, 2008 7:53 pm
as i read this post i thought about the greek and roman and hindu gods and all the explanations about the complexities of life their stories represent.
May 6th, 2008 9:38 pm
I heart Joseph Campbell.
May 7th, 2008 5:58 am
you made me do a lot of introspection with this one – different passages in my life and the tales I’ve held onto..sk
May 7th, 2008 10:48 am
The first book I ever read was a gorgeously illustrated fairy tale collection. It was love at first sight. Later, when I studied fairy tale and myth in college the lessons and archetypes fell into place for me – it all clicked.
My favorite Joseph Campbell quote is this – “Myth is something that never happens and always does.”
May 7th, 2008 11:28 am
I spent a lot of time studying the cover of the Hans Christian Anderson collection we had, not because it was beautiful though. The pictures were dark and scary. I was intrigued by what they brought up in me. Love that quote.
May 7th, 2008 2:34 pm
A wonderful and thought-provoking essay, Colleen.
Your story about your Dad reminded me of how my Daddy used to go about the house sometimes quoting poetry he’d learned growing up. He’d quote it with great feeling and sweeping hand gestures. A little embarrassing when we were teenagers, but I remember it with great fondness now. He was partial to Longfellow.
May 7th, 2008 2:49 pm
My dad did a very dramatic Hitler impression while holding a black comb mustache over his lip, and once made a female snowman that had breasts. We were embarrassed and delighted at the same time at some of my dad’s colorful antics.
May 7th, 2008 3:48 pm
As a child, I always thought if I just got up early enough, I’d see tiny colorful fairies out in the dew-kissed grass, laughing with little tinkley giggles..
May 7th, 2008 5:41 pm
I was especially glad to read this today, May 7th, the 5 year anniversay of my dad’s passing. He loved literature, silly and real, deep and pun-i-ful. He made up the best stories, especially the one about the Lopoloupolous who supposedly hibernated in the winter as a wire hanger. How he must have laughed at the sight of us neighborhood kids pulling a red wagon containing a hanger, waiting for the Lopoloupolus to reawaken that spring.
July 12th, 2012 7:51 am
[…] 7. Growing up in a working class family, the literature available to me was How Now Brown Cow and the stories of Hans Christian Anderson. All summer long I tested the meter of language with jump rope and bouncing ball songs. My Irish-American father spouted nursery rhymes, both traditional and made up. Ours was an oral tradition of reading, reciting, and singing out loud. ~ Read more about how fairy tales and nursery rhymes were the foundation of my love of language and how they also gave me access into an inner life HERE. […]
October 2nd, 2013 11:50 pm
[…] with the students. I also used “jump rope” when I told the kids that my love of language was first awakened by jump rope songs and the nursery rhymes my father taught […]