Our hearts that are loving are forever young. It is a wonder, but reading fairy tales was regarded once as so much fun. That was in the good old days, before our fractured stories of gruesome and very grim endings for some characters were all sanitised into rose coloured feel goods in Disney versions.

Lovely as the film versions are these days, this writer can wonder why we boomers did not get Book Phobias along the way. For example, Cinderella was exploited to do housework by evil characters. That was sort of dramatically prophetic for some of us old babes. ‘Twas only housework, still doing It, it is keeping me more than pleasantly plump. One might realistically wonder where did indeed vanish some handsome fella with a princely income to hire housemaids. After things came good for old Cinders, the evil relatives had their eyes pecked away by some like-minded feathered friends, quite gruesome. Maybe the birds did not like housework either.

Yes, we did read all that. Then there was the ghastly troll, hiding under a bridge to eat any innocent billy goats who wanted to ‘do lunch’ in the land of emerald Gruff. Uncaring, but this might be regarded as an ancient reference to the long gone Neanderthals, resented and exterminated by our human ancestors. Yep, another genocide of trolls, doing their own thing.

So we all read along, these dreadful endings must have been character forming. We were visualising Snow White, eating poisoned apples, surrounded by dwarfs who each had a personality disorder. It was all so melodramatic, Snow White lapsed into an enchanted slumber, rescued at last. Maybe she practically went into a coma because she was exhausted from all that cooking. Any young mother or a grandma with tiring toddlers might agree. Or perhaps Snow White was fatigued. Senior smiles these days, there is peace or Book Phobia. The nasty queen came to sticky end, but that was fate.

That is what fairy tales had us believing. Sleeping Beauty was a classic, in a lovely format on our screens. Sleeping, dreaming, she woke up pregnant with twins, impregnated while she was sleeping, by a cheating married man. Poor old Sleeping Beauty chased her dream lover with the babes and was nearly topped by his wife. Ah, emotions, but after that drama, Grimm’s gruesome tale had a happy ending and a white wedding. But did she marry well, or did her husband cheat on her too. Ain’t love just grand?

Evil enchantment lingered on in our innocent childhood imaginations. We were supposed to be enjoying our newly formed skills in silent literacy. There came the tale of Rapunzel, locked in a tower, fed bread by another nasty, creepy control freak female. She was a really maternal type. Sort of grim. Rapunzel’s lover clambered up clutching her long hair, so old nasty pasty in her menopausal years shed Rapunzel’s hairstyle, and blinded her lover. Escaping, the loving couple disappeared through dank forests. He was cured by love, and they had a happy ending. Not so much for the motherly type, but let’s face it, we were hooked on these grim form of fairy tales.

Grimm and co told the tale of the Little Mermaid. Nothing Disney about our version. In our old heritage story book, the Little Mermaid could only walk on land with legs that felt like walking on knives. Her one true love married another, not good husband material. So the Little Mermaid cast herself into the sea, turning into the foam of waves in that cold ocean. Yes, it was all true love, miserable endings, and fascinating to fantasise.

Surprisingly, we did not listen to sage warnings from the authors of these gruesome fun stories. We expected to wed in tasteful, white weddings we could afford, all hoping for happy endings. Many of us boomers may have initiated our divorces along the way. So much for Prince Charming. That is your long lost Grandpa, kiddos, really character forming. That was quite some fairy tale! Yes, still reading, love a good book and a heart forever young…..