Shooting Fish In A Barrel; Or, Absurdities That Occurred To Me As I Read "The Fairy Shoe Dance"
Posted 9 December 2008 in Books by Catriona
Warning: This will make absolutely no sense unless you have read the post immediately below.
It may not make sense even if you have read that post—after all, the story makes no sense.
1. Just a thought, but perhaps the sun—sorry, the Sun—deserted your park—sorry, Park—because you’re so profligate with capital letters? You might give a thought to the poor blogger who wants to make fun of the story but keeps missing the shift key. At least you could do it consistently: why is “village” sometimes a proper noun and sometimes not?
2. How does the Queen expect to find a nice, dry, sunshiny park when the sun has apparently deserted all the parks? There’s a flaw in that plan.
3. Why is the Queen such a sycophant? Methinks there’s a dark back story behind her obvious desire to placate the King . . .
4. How does a plan to “take a Hall in the village near” turn into breaking and entering into the home of complete strangers and violating their shoes?
5. Why are the King and Dukes so obsessed with domestic interior design? In what way do “a staircase” and “a passage with some good cupboards” contribute to a space’s suitability for a fancy-dress party? Okay, the kitchen I’ll grant you, but a staircase?
6. Seriously, does the King actually amuse himself by peering in people’s windows and criticising their house-keeping skills? I’m starting to think that my point about his secretly sinister nature in point three about wasn’t quite as facetious as I intended it to be . . .
7. Hang on a second—they’re not just taking the shoes from the people whose house they’re invading in order to hold a fancy-dress party, they’re also going to sneak into neighbouring cottages and steal their shoes, as well? These fairies are total sods!
8. Can anyone figure out how many Dukes the King has? First it’s three Dukes, then it’s “all his Dukes,” then it’s two Dukes—perhaps fairies are cannibalistic?
9. No, I’m sorry—those pictures do not show tiny fairies inhabiting shoes. Those clearly show anthropomorphic shoes—and anthropomorphic shoe brushes. The two aspects of illustrated story telling are at complete cross-purposes here.
10. If the fairies are inhabiting shoes are costumes for a fancy-dress party, why are they shown casually strolling around in shoe form in every single illustration? I’d say that the illustrator never actually read this story, except that it rapidly becomes obvious that the author never actually read the story, either.
11. The fairies managed free decorations for their party by planning it for the day before a wedding? Cheapskates!
12. Hey, Bride and Bridegroom? If you’re so worried about the shoes, why don’t you move them yourselves into what the Fairy King assures me are capacious and convenient cupboards, instead of just standing there and looking at them?
13. Does anyone want to take bets on which drugs Aunt May is taking? Or, alternatively, offer me an explanation of what she means by “I am a Fairy” and why she isn’t surprised about the rambunctious party for supernatural beings that she overhears?
14. The Fairies actually have a Palace? Why on earth do they need to break into someone else’s house, then?
15. Even though the sun shines for a month, they’re still planning on breaking into someone else’s house to hold another party? These fairies aren’t just sods—they’re delinquents.
16. Is there a moral to this story? It seems as though there should be a moral, but I can’t isolate one—unless it’s “Don’t let fairies into your house, because they’re interfering little sods who’ll violate your shoes.”
I plan to take that moral to heart.
Share your thoughts [9]
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Tim wrote at Dec 10, 05:15 am
2. How does the Queen expect to find a nice, dry, sunshiny park when the sun has apparently deserted all the parks? There’s a flaw in that plan.
The narrator knows that the sun has deserted all the parks but the Queen does not.
3. Why is the Queen such a sycophant? Methinks there’s a dark back story behind her obvious desire to placate the King . . .
Maybe she just likes him and trusts in his planning skills.
4, 7, 15:
They’re fairies; they don’t always follow human behavioural conventions.
8. Can anyone figure out how many Dukes the King has? First it’s three Dukes, then it’s “all his Dukes,” then it’s two Dukes—perhaps fairies are cannibalistic?
The second instance presumably means ‘all of his dukes currently in the vicinity’. Alternatively, he has some form of telepathic communication with all of his dukes. In the third instance, perhaps the missing duke has gone upstairs.
9. No, I’m sorry—those pictures do not show tiny fairies inhabiting shoes. Those clearly show anthropomorphic shoes—and anthropomorphic shoe brushes. The two aspects of illustrated story telling are at complete cross-purposes here.
How do you know what fairies look like? Also, the shoes and brushes can be considered separately; for example, the fairies in the shoes may have animated the brushes with a different spell. (I will grant that the shoulder-shoe depiction is a point in favour of the anthropomorphic shoe interpretation.)
10. If the fairies are inhabiting shoes are costumes for a fancy-dress party, why are they shown casually strolling around in shoe form in every single illustration? I’d say that the illustrator never actually read this story, except that it rapidly becomes obvious that the author never actually read the story, either.
Some of the fairies are obviously trying out their costumes before the party.
12. Hey, Bride and Bridegroom? If you’re so worried about the shoes, why don’t you move them yourselves into what the Fairy King assures me are capacious and convenient cupboards, instead of just standing there and looking at them?
They might have been about to do something, but they were distracted by Aunt May’s mutterings and went off to look up a discreet mental health professional.
13. Does anyone want to take bets on which drugs Aunt May is taking? Or, alternatively, offer me an explanation of what she means by “I am a Fairy” and why she isn’t surprised about the rambunctious party for supernatural beings that she overhears?
That’s a tough one! But my guess is that Aunt May was a changeling who was brought up in human society and had entirely forgotten her fairy lineage until ancestral memories were triggered by the sight of the pile of shoes.
14. The Fairies actually have a Palace? Why on earth do they need to break into someone else’s house, then?
Rising damp.
16. Is there a moral to this story? It seems as though there should be a moral, but I can’t isolate one—unless it’s “Don’t let fairies into your house, because they’re interfering little sods who’ll violate your shoes.”
On the other hand, “Leave your crap lying around any old how, and maybe fairies will clean it up for you.”
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Catriona wrote at Dec 10, 07:22 am
2. The Queen should be aware that other parks will be just as damp as her own, unless she suspects the rain is unusually localised. It also seems a drastic measure to take.
3. Nope, the King is definitely sinister. The Queen is too eager to placate him.
4, 7 and 15: Okay, I’ll accept that fairies have a different moral code to that of mortals. But I still don’t see how “let’s find a nice hall” translates to “let’s break into this house and dance in their hallway.”
I also don’t see how either relates to the illustration showing the shoe-fairy-creatures gesturing to a “Palais of Dance” (or “Danse”? It’s unclear), but, as I said, it doesn’t look like the illustrator actually read the story.
8. “All his Dukes” seems to me an unusual way of saying “all the Dukes in the vicinity”; I would argue that either “the Dukes” or even “all the Dukes” would be more seemly phrases under the circumstances.
There are also a number of equivocal phrases in that counter-argument . . .
9. I will not be moved on the position of the anthropomorphic shoes. Those don’t look anything like fairies inhabiting shoes—the shoes have their own legs! I’ll admit that I don’t know what the fairies actually look like, but I would hazard a guess that if they looked that much like shoes, they wouldn’t be dressing up as shoes for a fancy-dress party.
12 and 13. I’m with you on Aunt May, but I’m still betting on either drugs or paranoid schizophrenia, rather than her being a changeling.
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Tim wrote at Dec 10, 08:32 am
2. The Queen should be aware that other parks will be just as damp as her own, unless she suspects the rain is unusually localised. It also seems a drastic measure to take.
She doesn’t necessarily know how widespread the cloud cover has been. She might reasonably suppose that there are other parks that haven’t been overcast. Perhaps she was thinking of a trip to the Continent.
3. Nope, the King is definitely sinister. The Queen is too eager to placate him.
You’re welcome to your interpretation.
4, 7 and 15: Okay, I’ll accept that fairies have a different moral code to that of mortals. But I still don’t see how “let’s find a nice hall” translates to “let’s break into this house and dance in their hallway.”
Note the wording ‘take a hall’ rather than ‘find a hall’. When fairies see something they want, they are inclined to take it without asking for permission.
I also don’t see how either relates to the illustration showing the shoe-fairy-creatures gesturing to a “Palais of Dance” (or “Danse”? It’s unclear), but, as I said, it doesn’t look like the illustrator actually read the story.
The fairies in that picture were unsure of the venue or had misunderstood the directions. The caption could be: ‘“This is the place, I’m sure of it.” “No, no, I don’t think it is.”’
(It does seem odd for a village to have a ‘Palais de Dance’, though.)
8. “All his Dukes” seems to me an unusual way of saying “all the Dukes in the vicinity”; I would argue that either “the Dukes” or even “all the Dukes” would be more seemly phrases under the circumstances.
I don’t disagree.
9. I will not be moved on the position of the anthropomorphic shoes. Those don’t look anything like fairies inhabiting shoes—the shoes have their own legs! I’ll admit that I don’t know what the fairies actually look like, but I would hazard a guess that if they looked that much like shoes, they wouldn’t be dressing up as shoes for a fancy-dress party.
Three other possibilities:
a) Fairy magic has caused the shoe leather to become flexible at certain points in order to accomodate their limbs.
b) The fairies have cut holes in the shoes. (As I suggested above, these aren’t shown in the illustrations, but that may simply be an error.)
c) Shoes naturally have arms and legs, but humans can’t normally see them.
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Catriona wrote at Dec 10, 10:25 am
2. Or, I suppose, the Queen might not be very bright. Or—and this is the most plausible interpretation, to my mind—the author might have forgotten what they were writing about before they’d even finished writing it.
3. Well, thank you kindly!
;)
4, 7, and 15. I’m not so much concerned about the difference in wording between “take a hall” and “find a hall” as I am in the difference of wording between “hall” and “hallway.” “Hall,” especially at this time and in this context, implies something like a “village hall,” rather than a hallway, or a relatively small passage leading between different rooms.
I think we also need to bear in mind that these are post-Victorian fairies, and the Victorian fairies were smaller and far more benign than the earlier, human-sized nature spirits that, for example, Shakespeare exploits in Midsummer’s Night’s Dream.
But I will accept your argument about the geographically challenged fairies.
8. What is it Peta always says about using a double negative rather than a straight positive?
9.
a. But if the leather is flexible, that’s assuming that their limbs have pushed certain sections of the leather outwards, as though they’re wearing leather gloves and stockings/shoes combinations?
That seems complicated and, frankly, uncomfortable.
b. I can’t argue that the illustrations don’t look as though they belong to the story, but it’s another interpretation that relies on possiblies. It also doesn’t really, to my mind, take into account how odd their faces look—or rather, how oddly the combination of their faces and the interiors of the shoes fit together.
c. Okay, now I’m going to have to go barefoot for the rest of my life.
5
Tim wrote at Dec 10, 11:01 am
2. Or, I suppose, the Queen might not be very bright. Or—and this is the most plausible interpretation, to my mind—the author might have forgotten what they were writing about before they’d even finished writing it.
Indeed.
3. Well, thank you kindly!
(snicker)
4, 7, and 15. I’m not so much concerned about the difference in wording between “take a hall” and “find a hall” as I am in the difference of wording between “hall” and “hallway.” “Hall,” especially at this time and in this context, implies something like a “village hall,” rather than a hallway, or a relatively small passage leading between different rooms.
‘They peeped into every building. There was one big house.’ It seems to me that the village didn’t have a village hall (at least, not one that met the King’s criteria), so instead they chose the hall at the big house.
I think we also need to bear in mind that these are post-Victorian fairies, and the Victorian fairies were smaller and far more benign than the earlier, human-sized nature spirits that, for example, Shakespeare exploits in Midsummer’s Night’s Dream.
Not necessarily less whimsical, though.
8. What is it Peta always says about using a double negative rather than a straight positive?
I don’t know. What is it Peta always says about using a double negative rather than a straight positive?
9. a. But if the leather is flexible, that’s assuming that their limbs have pushed certain sections of the leather outwards, as though they’re wearing leather gloves and stockings/shoes combinations?
Yes.
That seems complicated and, frankly, uncomfortable.
If this is what’s happening, they seem relaxed in the pictures.
b. I can’t argue that the illustrations don’t look as though they belong to the story, but it’s another interpretation that relies on possiblies. It also doesn’t really, to my mind, take into account how odd their faces look—or rather, how oddly the combination of their faces and the interiors of the shoes fit together.
Perhaps they’re big-headed fairies, like bobblehead dolls.
c. Okay, now I’m going to have to go barefoot for the rest of my life.
You won’t want to know what else shoes do on the ground, then.
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Catriona wrote at Dec 10, 11:25 am
4,7, and 15. Okay, I’m willing to accept that the big house might be a default in the absence of anything else suitable, but I’m still uncertain about the morality of their decision.
I’d need to do more reading on Victorian fairy tales (which, not at all ironically, is what I’m supposed to be doing, in preparation for a journal article on fairy tales in Victorian penny weeklies) to judge the whimsy of Victorian fairies. My general sense, though, is that you’re quite right.
8. Well, I can’t remember, either—that’s why I couched it in generalities.
It generally involves a quote from NCIS, though.
9a. The fact that they seem so relaxed in the pictures is why I’m not entirely convinced by this reading.
b. But the heads just seem to merge into the shoes, as though they’re part of the same entity. But the spell implies that they simply become small enough to climb inside the shoes.
I still think the illustrator hasn’t read the story. Or perhaps they’re on the same drugs as Aunt May.
c. No. No, I don’t.
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Tim wrote at Dec 10, 01:00 pm
4,7, and 15. Okay, I’m willing to accept that the big house might be a default in the absence of anything else suitable, but I’m still uncertain about the morality of their decision.
That, then, returns to my earlier point.
It generally involves a quote from NCIS, though.
“I have three ex-wives. I can’t afford any fetishes.”?
Or this one?
http://blogs.msdn.com/michkap/archive/2006/04/04/568664.aspx
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Catriona wrote at Dec 10, 01:23 pm
The latter—though she generally uses a much more truncated version of that.
I must make a note of that in case I do the first-year lectures again, actually . . .
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Tim wrote at Dec 11, 10:34 am
I see.