Monday, March 7, 2016

ONCE UPON A TIME: RED’S UNTOLD TALE, Wendy Toliver

Hey, what’s black, white and Red all over? It’s ABC’s latest attempt to hold on to audience interest in their fairytale franchise—and it’s not too shabby, if I may say so. Certainly a step up from how our beloved Red Riding Hood was utilized in Shadow of the Queen.

Unlike previous addends to the OUAT lore via printed media, Toliver’s novel takes us back to an earlier period in Red’s life, filling in bits of backstory and fleshing out her relationships with Granny, childhood hunk-friend Peter, and other members of her village. It also has a YA flavor, but not to an irritating degree. It follows several tropes of coming-of-age stories without becoming too cliché. You have romantic and sexual awakening, school bullies, weird dreams the hero doesn’t understand but have something to do with finding her true self—yeah, that does sound more overdone when you break it down, but Toliver’s easy, fluid yet intelligent writing style articulates the understandable trials of entering adulthood and makes them feeling organic and visceral to her (well, ABC’s) characters.

Now and then the writer does stumble; in a way, those moments end up being the most painful because she otherwise charms you with the voices she gives Red and the people in her life. An editor could’ve easily suggested taking out a few iterations of “handsome” when describing Peter, and one string of sentences that provides information about Red’s necklace that we already know and, despite the author’s intent, adds no dramatic weight to the moment. A few other blemishes, and even some larger issues, haunt this tale, but it’s on the whole a satisfying venture into Red’s world.

At the risk of nitpicking, I’ll get the smaller “what?” moments out of the way. Toliver’s take on Red’s village, one of many in the Enchanted Forest, is supposedly a canon rendition of the showrunners’ vision (assuming Horowitz and Kitsis still have a concrete vision). So, making that dangerous assumption, I conclude that somehow Christianity exists in the Enchanted Forest. Yep. There are vicars, and Christmas, and crosses, and there’s one reference to “God,” just one, with a good old capital G. Sound strange? To be fair, some famous fairytale writers like Hans Christian Anderson incorporated Christian themes into their stories. The problem with Once’s mythos, however, is that there has been no confirmation of Christian ideology anywhere else in its fairytale realm. Two characters, Baelfire and Maurice, have used the term “gods” when uttering a mild expletive (“Oh my gods!”), which suggests that at least some residents of the E.F. follow a polytheistic belief system. So, where does Christianity fit into this world? Do they actually believe in Jesus? Or did Toliver feel it was just easier to portray fear-mongering and slut-shaming in a culture steeped in Christian values? Hmm.

That’s not the most jarring world-building choice. Things go from “odd but reasonable” to “wait are we watching the same show?” when Red makes a very peculiar reference. In one scene, she and Peter are discussing the fact that, since Red was about thirteen, animals have started avoiding her. When Peter playfully pokes fun at this, Red makes a quip about being as good with animals as Snow White and Cinderella.

Um, Toliver? Those cute references would make sense in a world where everyone knows who Snow White and Cinderella are because they’re fictional characters. The problem is that, in Red’s world, they are real people. The Snow-White nod could be excused by saying that, as a royal, the fair-skinned princess may in fact be well known for her zoological gifts—that includes being able to understand birds, which she totally can according to the show. This does not explain Cinderella because I’m pretty sure that Cinderella hasn’t become the Cinderella yet!

A quick explanation: Snow White meets Red while she’s on the run from the Evil Queen. It’s not clear if Snow has met Prince Charming yet—my guess is she hasn’t because she isn’t an adept hunter and bandit yet; she’s so desperate for food she tries to steal eggs from Red’s chicken coop. Regardless whether she has met her True Love, clearly her befriending Red predates her and Charming kicking Regina off the throne. Further down the ambiguous timeline, Cinderella celebrates her wedding to her own princely love with a ball, one which Snow and Charming attend, clearly happy and nicely dressed. Their relaxed demeanor and dirt-free wardrobe suggest that Regina is no longer a threat to Snow and Charming’s well-being, Snow has returned to being a sovereign, and they’re confident enough in their security to go to a wedding ball. Now, we don’t know how much time passes between Ella’s visit to the first ball, courtesy of a wand-wielding Rumplestiltskin, and her wedding ball, but I doubt it was long enough ago that Red, prior to meeting Snow White, had ever heard of Cinderella before the ash-sweeping social climber won the heart and hand of her prince.

All right, so, a little in-world inconsistency can hurt one’s enjoyment of the book. It didn’t kill mine. Even the last and biggest issue doesn’t make me want to burn it to ashes for Cinderella to sweep under the rug. Does it damper some of my positive feelings? A bit. What I’m talking about is the book’s ending. Don’t worry: spoilers will be vague, but it’s only fair to warn you of what’s in store. Most of the novel isn’t all that plot-driven, which in itself isn’t a problem. Its purpose is for fans to learn more about Red’s personality and her life in the hamlet she called home before the curse plopped her into Storybrooke, Maine. On the whole, it succeeds very nicely. I’ll throw in one other small complaint in that, outside of Peter and Granny, we don’t get to see any other characters from the show. Toliver does sneak in some The Fox and the Hound allusions that I honestly didn’t catch until near the end—nice! I did hope to see a glimpse of Rumplestiltskin, since I presumed he was the wizard who gave Granny the red cloak for her granddaughter. But no, the wizard who did is an original creation, an eccentric hermit named Knubbin with a crow named Heathcliff (a rather out-of-place Bronte reference). Okay, well, I guess we do need to know that the E.F. has more magic-users than just Rumple and female sorceresses that keep popping up every season. Plus, Knubbin serves to demonstrate that magic, good or bad, comes with a price, a rule that isn’t invented by the Dark One purely for the sake of screwing with people.

I was fine with watching Red deal with the girls at school who torment her, with her changing feelings for her best friend, with the complicated dynamic she and Granny share, and with the hidden demons she wrestles with in her dark Wolfstime dreams. Yet, somewhere in the middle of the book, a sort-of plot does emerge, in which Red wants to stop the pain Granny experiences in her arm every Wolfstime. Knubbin tells Red that she must journey to the mythical Lake Nostos in order to complete the magical salve, which in itself seems impossible since the lake is from an old fairytale. (Okay, hold up: fairytales within fairytales? What is this, Fairy-Taleception?) Despite the daunting nature of this quest, Red is ready to pursue it, and Peter volunteers to go with her. I started to worry, since this plot point came in with only a couple chapters left—and, lo and behold, the quest never happens. The book just . . . stops. Granted, a lot of other themes and story elements get tied up, but what was shaping up to be an actual plotline is suddenly forgotten. It’s also worth noting that had Red found Lake Nostos and succeeded, we wouldn’t get to see Granny dealing with that same painful scar in the show. Why make it a part of the story at all, then?

The book’s finale might leave you dangling with unanswered questions and unfulfilled possibilities—much like the show it’s based on—but the conclusion indirectly confirms that what really mattered in the story wasn’t some magical salve or any magic MacGuffin, but the heroine’s journey toward better understanding herself, her relationships, and what she’s capable of, even if there is more she has yet to learn. I do think Toliver should have added an epilogue that maybe would lead up to her meeting Snow, or explained whether or not she does leave the village to undertake her quest. Either way, the ending needed a little more closure. I still recommend the novel for its obvious love for its protagonist, a character who has until recently been forgotten by the writers and other characters. Many thanks to Toliver for her contribution. For all my current annoyances with the show’s writing and direction, I hold out hope that its supplemental material will continue to improve with each new story.


Rating: 3.5/5

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