Lgbt fairy tales
The Queerest Fairy Tales You’ve Never Heard
I have always been drawn to folklore. Ever since I was a child, my mother would tell or browse me stories. I contain had a special place in my heart for the ancient tales of strength and cunning, of magic and redemption that play out amongst a backdrop of ancient castles and magical forests. Fairies, witches, queens and kings, talking animals, and more, populate these stories, often helping to convey a deeper meaning in the tale. Themes of morality, selflessness, and generosity manage deep, reminding us that we must be prepared to help our neighbors, and should we not, well, then there is a myriad of punishments the supernatural world is ready to dole out to us.
Often these stories are also stories of love.
Like most queer people, I have to “translate” most stories to improved fit my own experience experience. When a prince and princess fall in love in these stories, I know I am not the target audience for such a tale, and yet I hold learned to adapt them so I can also participate in their collective meaning. Though I am not represented, I can see
Once Upon a Rainbow: These are the 9 best LGBT+ fairy tales for kids on 'Tell a Fairy Tale Day'
Greetings on 'Tell a Fairy Tale Day,' a magical celebration where stories open portals to worlds of wonder and enchantment.
Fairy tales have always held a special place in my heart. They are often the first instances where, as children, we encounter the concepts of fine versus evil and the assurance that good will always prevail.
But when I was a toddler I never browse a fairy tale (or any publication for that matter) that taught me another important lesson… That it was ok to be me. Back then I was considered a ‘different’ considerate of boy’, the kind who preferred fairy wings over football shirts. For fear of entity shunned, rejected and humiliated I conformed and reserved my true self for when I felt safe - which was usually when I was alone.
How we chose the best LGBT+ fairy tales for kids
Personal experience: As I grew up, I discovered my LGBT+ identity and I made it my mission to provide for new generations something I didn’t have… representation, assurance and the freed
Archer Magazine
Once upon a time, there wasn’t a single queer person in the world, so there was no need to chat about them in stories…
Wait, what?
Image: Walter Crane illustration of Constant Heinrich (right) and his prince
For as long as humans hold had voices, folk and fairy tales have been spoken aloud around the fire. Stories to make sense of the nature, to teach us which animalistic men to avoid, or how to be a pure, virtuous beauty in order to achieve a marriage (which, as we all know, is the only way to measure your worth).
These tales came alive anew in each storyteller’s mouth. But someone decided to write them down with ink on a page, and while society continued to change and evolve, the stories dried, dark as a stain.
However, our fascination with them has remained.
Turn a few hundred pages forward in the history books, and we find ourselves in a time where queers are more able to make themselves known (though certainly not universally); and we’re still picking up The Brothers Grimm. People telling stories now read from printed texts, rather than reciting th
“And they lived happily ever after.” It’s the guiding light at the conclude of the tunnel of lurve, the perfect finish to a fairy-tale love affair. But the magic spell that allows us to find a prince or princess has always seemed to be reserved for beautiful, straight, white, able-bodied people whose mental health is strangely impervious to abuse, neglect and multiple other forms of trauma. Fairy tales, we are made to believe, are not for queers. Cishet culture’s magic trick of making itself seem innate, inevitable and universal depends in part on the ubiquity and repetition of fairy tales throughout our lives. We are told these stories of compulsory heterosexuality from cradle to grave—and even though everyone knows they are just fantasies, their enchantments are so seductive that it is difficult to resist their charms and not wish we could all live the fairy tale. And yet. The fairy tale realm is the perfect place for the shifting, resisting, transformative and hard-to-pin-down cultures of LGBTQ folks. Ignore the happily-ever-after endings that imply a kind of blissful stasis that g