童話的魔力

斗轉星移，世事變遷，但那些伴隨一代又一代人成長的童話卻從未被時間的洪流吞噬。它們被重述、被“翻寫”，被代代相傳。你也許不懂，那個永遠充斥著“公主、王子、城堡與魔法”的世界為何擁有如此經久的魅力？在我看來，從我愛上童話的那一刻起，我就知道：相比于童話外在的裝飾性套路，童話內部所構筑的充滿正義、善良與真愛的世界才是永不褪色的主題。在對這一童話主題的詮釋與重述中，我們這些微不足道的人類也嗅到了不朽的味道。

Why are some writers drawn back to fairytales again and again， even when they also write original fantasies and books in other genres， like Shannon Hale1) (The Goose Girl， The Book of a Thousand Days， Rapunzel’s Revenge)? Why do some writers love a particular fairytale so much that they retell it more than once from different perspectives， like Robin McKinley2) (Beauty， The Rose Daughter， Sunshine)? Why are writers able to pull a fairytale to pieces3)， take the bits they like， discard the rest， put everything back in an entirely different order， and still call it a retelling， like Jackson Pearce4) (Sisters Red， Sweetly)?

It’s because fairytales are more than just the stereotypical trappings that first spring to mind5) when we think about them. More than the carriages and ball-gowns， the beautiful princesses， handsome woodcutters and wicked stepmothers. More than just spells， enchanted castles， fairy godmothers and happily ever after.

Fairytales have a magical quality that is entirely separate from the magic that goes on within them. They have been passed down from mother to daughter， father to son， for hundreds of years. Like a stone staircase burnished and worn by the passage of a thousand feet， fairytales offer us a familiar path which we instinctively follow—and yet， unlike a stone steps， they may take us to a different destination every time we travel them. Each successive generation has retold these stories in their own way， often pulling and warping6) them out of all recognition. A modern-day girl who reads the original story of Sleeping Beauty would be shocked， disgusted and disbelieving to realise exactly what Prince Charming did to the sleeping princess (I know I was!).

But instead of wiping that sickening story from our oral traditions and our imagination as our societal mores7) and our moral standards have changed， we have brought it with us， retelling it again and again until it has become a story symbolising the strength of true love and patience and the triumph of good over evil. We can’t leave fairytales behind us. Something within them is stronger than the outer trappings. Something—some universal truth—always goes on.

When I was a little girl my big sister and I fought like cats in a sack， and barely a day went by without our house being shaken by screams and complaints. One day when I was seven or eight， our mother sent us both out of the house with instructions to go to the library—TOGETHER!—and for heaven’s sake， STOP ARGUING. In tense silence， we walked the short distance to the shabby little building and went in. My sister abandoned me to browse the adult shelves. I poked around8) in the children’s section， and then， without much hope， looked in the Cancelled Box (where the librarians put books for sale). There I discovered a very special book. It was a large， hardback picture book， a bit peeling and worn on the outside， titled The Wild Swans9). Within， children played in a fairytale castle. A wicked enchantress cast a spell. Horses tossed10) their manes11)， leopards and hawks hunted across the pages. A little girl became a beautiful woman， and wandered through a deep dark forest.

It was magic.

I would have done anything to have that book for my own—but I didn’t have any money with me or any pocket money saved up and I knew that by the time I came back， the book would be gone. It was too magical for the Cancelled Box. On the point of tears， I was about to put The Wild Swans back， when it was plucked12) away by a familiar hand. “I’ll buy you that，” my sister said coolly. I still don’t know if she realises how， in that moment of casual kindness， she completely changed my life.

Seventeen years later， my version of the fairytale The Wild Swans was published under the title The Swan Kingdom. In my own mind， I acknowledge that very little from that beloved picture book actually made it into The Swan Kingdom unaltered. But I’ve read reviews which claim the story follows the original fairytale too closely and therefore lacks originality and suspense. I’ve also read reviews that say The Swan Kingdom is nothing like the original fairytale and that the changes I made destroy the story! The lesson I learned from these contradictory reviews is this: the universal truth within a fairytale is different for each person who reads it.

When I wrote The Swan Kingdom I kept all the elements which I felt were truly important to the original story. I kept the quiet， valiant strength of the little sister， the idea of the brothers turned into swans， the painful task required to free them. I kept the idea that the heroine would be persecuted for actions which some people felt were “witchcraft13).” I kept the wicked stepmother， and I kept the handsome prince from a different kingdom with whom the heroine falls in love. Those formed the skeleton14) of the fairytale within my mind. But for others， my important points are not important at all. They’ve found different points of reference15) within the story， different ways of navigating through the landscape of fairytales. The fairytale is different for them.

In July 2011， my second fairytale retelling16) was published， and this time I’ve made life even more difficult for myself by picking a very well known story—that of Cinderella. The book is set in my magical version of Japan， and it’s this which has most people excited about it. But the real heart of the story is the universal truth which I saw behind the trappings of the Disney Cinderella we’ve all grown up with. The truth that no girl， no real， human girl with a beating heart， could possibly be as spineless17)， as obedient18)， as perfect， as Cinderella pretends to be. Her perfection must be hiding something. Passion. Hatred. Intelligence. Fear. And a desperate desire for revenge.

I know that many people will recoil from19) reading about a Cinderella who isn’t beautiful， who isn’t the slightest bit sweet or perfect， and who couldn’t care less20) about putting on a pretty dress and dancing with the prince. Maybe people will be shocked to read about a Cinderella who lies， steals， cheats and fights her way to revenge for the wrongs done to her. A Cinderella who is broken and scarred—by her own hand. But I hope that others will see their own reality and their own universal truth reflected in my Cinderella’s choices， and that in telling the story as I see it， I will allow her story to become part of the greater， timeless fairytale which mothers have been telling their daughters since before my grandmother’s grandmother was born.

That’s why writers can’t leave fairytales alone. Because fairytales are magic. Their magic is that of timelessness， of immortality. And by retelling them， we mere humans get a taste of immortality too.

為什么有些作家在創作其他體裁的原創性奇幻故事和書籍的同時，還一次又一次地被吸引回童話創作上來？比如寫《鵝女孩》、《千日書》、《拉龐澤爾的復仇》的莎南·黑爾。為什么有些作家對某個童話如此情有獨鐘，會不止一次地從不同角度重述？比如寫《漂亮姑娘》、《玫瑰女兒》、《陽光燦爛》的羅賓·麥克肯利。為什么有些作家能把童話拆成零碎片段，取其所愛，丟棄其他，再將所有片段打亂順序重新整合，然后仍然稱之為童話的重述？比如寫《瑞德姐妹》、《甜蜜》的杰克遜·皮爾斯。

這是因為童話的意義遠遠不止于我們想起它時首先映入腦海的那些模式化的套路。童話里不只是馬車、晚禮服、美麗的公主、英俊的樵夫和邪惡的繼母；不只是魔咒、施了魔法的城堡、仙女教母和“從此幸福生活在一起”的完美結局。

童話有一種神奇的魔力，這魔力完全不同于童話故事里的魔法。幾百年來，童話代代相傳，母親傳給女兒，父親傳給兒子。童話就像是被無數人踩踏得光滑锃亮的老舊石階，為我們展現了一條熟悉的路，我們本能地沿著這條路前行。然而，與石階不同的是，每一次在童話中的漫游都會將我們引向不同的終點。每一代人都以自己的方式講述這些童話，講述的時候，經常將它們改得面目全非，讓人完全認不出當初的模樣。當代的女孩兒如果讀了童話《睡美人》的最初版本，當她們看到白馬王子對睡美人的所作所為時，可能會感到震驚、厭惡和難以置信(我就是這種反應!)。

但這個令人厭惡的故事并沒有隨著社會習俗和道德標準的演變而被我們從口述傳統和想象力中抹去，相反，我們總是讓它緊隨左右，講了一遍又一遍，直到它成為一個象征性的故事，象征真愛與堅忍的力量，象征正義戰勝邪惡。我們無法丟下童話。相比童話外在的那些裝飾性套路，童話內在的某種東西則顯示出更強大的力量。這種東西——某種普遍真理——永遠都不會消失。

在我還是個小女孩時，我和姐姐就像是裝在一個布袋子里的兩只貓，成天吵個不停。我們幾乎沒有一天不在家里尖叫、抱怨的，簡直能把房子震塌。在我七八歲的時候，有一天，媽媽把我和姐姐送出家門，讓我們去圖書館——一起去！——并且看在老天的分上不許爭吵！在氣氛緊張的沉默中，我們兩個來到一幢破舊的小房子前，走了進去。姐姐把我丟在一邊，自己去瀏覽成人書架上的圖書了。我就在兒童書區閑逛，然后不抱希望地瞅了瞅注銷書箱(圖書管理員放待售圖書的地方)。就在那兒，我發現了一本很特別的書。那是一本大開本的精裝圖畫書，書皮已有些磨損脫落了，書名叫做《野天鵝》。翻開書，一幕幕場景躍然紙上：孩子們在童話城堡里嬉戲玩耍；邪惡的女巫施了一個魔咒；馬兒甩著鬃毛，豹子和貓頭鷹在獵食；小女孩出落成美麗的少女，在幽暗的森林深處漫步。

這太神奇了！

只要能擁有這本書，我情愿做任何事。但我當時身上沒帶錢，也沒有存下的零用錢可用，而且我知道，等我再來時，這本書肯定已經賣掉了。這本書太有魔力了，注銷書箱不是它該待的地方。我急得差點哭出來，正打算把《野天鵝》放回書箱，書卻突然被一只熟悉的手抽走了。“我來給你買。”姐姐態度冷漠地說。我至今仍不知姐姐是否意識到，她那少有的片刻溫情是如何徹底地改變了我的生活。

17年后，我筆下的《野天鵝》童話出版了，書名叫做《天鵝王國》。在我自己的心目中，我覺得《天鵝王國》中幾乎沒有什么情節是照搬自那本我所珍愛的《野天鵝》。但我讀到有些評論說我的故事和原來的童話太像了，因而缺乏創意，沒有懸念。還有評論說，《天鵝王國》和原來的童話毫無相同之處，我的改寫徹底毀了這個故事！從這些相互矛盾的評論中我明白了一個道理：關于同一部童話里的普遍真理，一千個讀者有一千種觀點。

在我看來，有些元素對于《野天鵝》來說至關重要。在寫《天鵝王國》時，我悉數保留了這些元素。我保留了妹妹(編注：指《野天鵝》中的女主人公愛麗莎)沉默中的堅忍和勇敢，保留了哥哥們(編注：指《野天鵝》中的11位王子)變成天鵝的構想，保留了妹妹解救哥哥們所需經歷的艱難。我保留了主人公因被認為施展妖術而要被處死的構想。我保留了邪惡的繼母，保留了讓主人公一見傾心的來自另一個王國的英俊王子。這些元素構成了我心中的童話框架。然而，對他人來說，我認為重要的這些要素一點也不重要。他們在故事里發現了不同的參照點，發現了在童話王國里遨游的不同方式。對他們來說，這部童話呈現的是另一種迥然不同的樣子。

2011年7月，我“翻寫”的第二部童話出版了，這次我選擇了一個大家非常熟知的故事《灰姑娘》，創作過程也因此更為艱難。我將這部童話的故事發生地設在我筆下創造出來的魔幻版日本，也正是這一點讓許多人興奮不已。不過，在那個伴隨我們成長的迪士尼版灰姑娘套路的背后，我看到了一個普遍真理，這才是我的故事的核心。這個真理就是，一個女孩兒，一個現實中食人間煙火的女孩兒，不可能像灰姑娘假裝的那樣千依百順、言聽計從、完美無瑕。灰姑娘的完美表象下一定還隱藏著什么：激情、憎恨、智慧、恐懼，還有對于復仇的急切渴望。

我知道，對于一個不漂亮、一點也不甜美或完美、對穿漂亮舞裙和與王子共舞絲毫不感興趣的灰姑娘，許多人都會拒絕閱讀。當人們讀到一個會撒謊、偷竊、欺騙、對自己遭受的不公奮起報復的灰姑娘時，可能會感到震驚。這是一個因自己的作為而身心破碎、傷痕累累的灰姑娘。但是，我希望通過我筆下這個灰姑娘所作的選擇，人們能看到他們自己的現實情況和他們自己所認為的普遍真理。在用自己的方式來講述這個故事時，我也希望這個灰姑娘的故事成為那些更加偉大和永恒的童話的一部分，這些童話早在我祖母的祖母出生之前就一直由一代代的媽媽講給女兒聽了。

這就是為什么許多作家離不開童話的緣故。因為童話充滿了魔力，這種魔力亙古不變，世代流傳。而在對這些童話的重新詮釋中，我們這些微不足道的人類也嗅到了不朽的味道。

1.Shannon Hale：莎南·黑爾(1974～)，美國作家，其創作領域涉及青少年童話以及其他體裁的小說。

2.Robin McKinley：羅賓·麥克肯利(1952～)，著名童話作家，其作品迄今已有十六本之多。

3.pull sth. to pieces：把……撕成碎片

4.Jackson Pearce：杰克遜·皮爾斯(1984～)，美國作家

5.spring to mind：突然想到

6.warp [w??p] vt. 扭曲，曲解

7.mores [?m??re?z] n. 風俗，習慣，道德觀念

8.poke around：閑逛

9.The Wild Swans：《野天鵝》，安徒生的一則童話。該童話講述了一場善與惡的斗爭，女主人公愛麗莎是一個柔弱的公主，為了解救被繼母施以魔法而變成天鵝的11位哥哥，愛麗莎忍受蕁麻的刺痛和一年不能說話的痛苦，用蕁麻編織出了11件披甲，最終解救了哥哥們。

10.toss [t?s] vt. 甩(頭或頭發)

11.mane [me?n] n. (馬頸背上、獅子臉部和頸部的)長鬃毛

12.pluck [pl?k] vt. 拉，拽

13.witchcraft [?w?t??kr?ft] n. 巫術，魔法

14.skeleton [?skel?tn] n. 框架，梗概

15.point of reference：(用于了解情況或進行交流的)參照依據，參考標準

16.my second fairytale retelling：即筆者創作的童話故事Shadows on the Moon。

17.spineless [?spa?nl?s] adj. 沒有骨氣的，不敢抗爭的

18.obedient [??bi?di?nt] adj. 順從的，溫馴的

19.recoil from：退縮。recoil [r??k??l] vi. (因為不喜歡而)拒絕，回絕，退避

20.couldn’t care less：絲毫不關心