For as long as I can remember, I've always been a fantasy nerd. I always geek out over fairy tales and mythology. That's why I'm dedicating most of my writing to fantasy, though I'd like to try my hand at a bit of everything.
But looking back, it's absolutely incredible how dark some of those stories from our childhoods really are.
Of course, I'm one for not being all namby-pamby around kids. I don't believe in revolving a story around singing flowers and dancing butterflies and smiling suns that chase away frowning clouds. But some aspects of the fairy tales that we've always been told just make a person go, "Yeesh!"
I mean, think about it.
In Little Red Riding Hood, they originally intended for the little protagonist and her grandmother to be eaten and digested. Even after they decided to spare the ladies after all, they still cut open the wolf's belly (and his victims are still alive!) and fill his belly with stones, and he still lives for a few more minutes when their work is done.
In Cinderella, they have the stepsisters slice off chunks of their feet (big ones) in order to make the glass slipper fit.
In Hansel and Gretel, it was the biological mother who decided to abandon the children in the woods, and in either version, an old hag is left to "burn to ashes" in an oven.
In Pinocchio, the Talking Cricket was smashed flat with a hammer and the whole story was supposed to end after the puppet was lynched on a tree.
In The Three Little Pigs, two of the three pigs were supposed to be eaten and then the third pig ends up gobbling up the same wolf who gobbled up his brothers.
In The Pied Piper, all of the children are lured away into an isolated mountain and never heard of more.
In The Frog Prince, it's physical violence to the frog's body that transforms him rather than a nice, simple kiss.
In Snow White, the evil queen is punished by being forced to dance to death in burning hot shoes.
In Rumplestiltskin, he is somehow able to literally tear himself in half after they guess his name.
In Rapunzel, the prince's eyes are gouged out with thorns and when he is reunited with Rapunzel in the desert, she already has twin children clinging to her skirts, which makes you realize, "Hey, wait a minute; where did those twins come from?!"
Even Goblin Market by Christina Rosetti is claimed (by the author herself) to be a poem for children, but you try reading that thing and see how many mature elements you can find.
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