First, a preamble: I swear I didn’t mean for my first “short” review for
fantasy short stories to be for a work with a synonym in the title. The concept
and the decision to do it at all was very short
notice. I put little thought into it,
but I figure that some tiny effort
should be made on my part to include short fiction in the fantasy genre in my small but growing repertoire.
Sorry, sorry. Forgive the slight digression.
THE SHORT VERSION:
Michael Cunningham is one of those contemporary literary
writers I really should be reading (I have at least one of his novels on
my shelf), but instead I’m engorging myself on fairytale-inspired fantasy books
and TV shows. So Cunningham did the only thing he could to get my attention: write
his own fairytale-inspired story.
Of course I speak in jest, but an eerie tingle went
down my spine when I saw that “Little Man” was published in the New Yorker last
summer. Oh, and he published a collection of reduxed fairy tales in A Wild
Swan and Other Tales AND a novel titled The
Snow Queen. All right, Michael, you’re on my list.
If “Little Man” can be taken as a sample of this
writer’s imagination where fairy tales are concerned, I am stoked to read his
other titles. I’m forever a sucker for stories that put the old tales under a
new lens, and especially when that
lens is on Rumpelstiltskin. What, you thought I’d been satisfied by the contributions
of Shurtliff and Velde? Oh, you haven’t seen the last of my Rumpelstiltskin
fixation. Cunningham follows in the other writers’ tropes by turning Rumpel
into the point-of-view character, but to a different end. He starts off a helpful,
relatively altruistic fellow, one riddled with insecurities and a desire to
become a parent, which so far has been thwarted. In this version, our dear imp
is a victim of the ugly stick. His paternal yearning frames the story, but it’s
not what prompts Rumpel to assist the miller’s daughter. He genuinely wants to
spare the girl from her father’s desperate stupidity, as well as throw shade at
the greedy king.
But a budding friendship (with one-sided romantic tensions)
turns awkward when the girl agrees to marry the king, more because it means she
and her aging father will live in comfort. Jilted feelings turn love into sour
vengeance when Rumpel expecting demands a child as payment for the final night
of straw-turned-gold. I particularly love how Cunningham reconciles the kinder
and crueler elements of the character as Rumpelstiltskin replaces the king as
the primary antagonist (even though the king continues to be a douche). Love
and hate, mercy and ruthlessness, go hand in hand. On a more practical point,
we get a sensible explanation for why Rumpel was dancing around a bonfire
singing his own name for anyone to hear. Like anyone on the cusp of victory who
lives a very lonely life, he celebrated by getting drunk off his ass.
Seriously, this is one of my favorite answers to this bizarre detail in the
original story.
The one element of “Little Man” I’m not such a fan of
is the ending. Then again, the ending of the Grim Brothers’ version, which
Cunningham uses, is itself strange and a hard to flip into something positive
for a character we’ve come to sympathize with. At least Rumpel doesn’t die, as
one might presume when someone rips themselves in two. His fate remains
bittersweet—more bitter than sweet, really. One could apply what literally
happens to him to what emotionally happens to people when they suffer
rejection. Your heart, torn apart, must learn to reconcile itself back together
and live with the pain and disappointment. However much you may hate yourself,
there’s no one better to rely on.
THE SHORT SHORT VERSION:
The feels, guys. So, so many feels in such a little
story and a little character.
Rating:
4.5/5
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