For this dime story, I decided to play around with a screenshot from an actual movie. I'm not quite sure where this one comes from (but I believe it's Russian - one of those excellent fairy tale remakes).
It's story time, kiddies!
As the Sorcerer of Evil Storms, I'm not usually invited to birthday parties. Had I known that my career choice would result in being a social outcast, I would have studied to become a beautician instead.
Perhaps people have every right to worry about me.
Snow gathers in the pockets of my trousers like lint. I'm the reason why the oak tree fell on your house last week during that rain storm. I spun the threads of the snow-blanket that suffocated fifty homes in the Blizzard of 1907. The next tornado, to be named Zippy by frantic meteorologists, lives inside my left nostril and eat only fried spaghetti.
The last time I had been invited to a birthday party was two-hundred-and-thirty-five years ago. A girl who lived down the block from me was turning five; her name had been Maggie. Before any public appearance, I rubbed my skin with coal and silver flakes. I brought a light drizzle and pumpkin pie with me as I walked down the street with the other neighbors.
"I am the Sorcerer of Evil Storms," I had said, blowing on Maggie's face with my peppermint-storm breath, "the King of Bad Weather."
She giggled, oddly unafraid, until I lifted up my tattered hat in a mock bow. I had forgotten that the western winds had taken up lodging inside my hat. Poor Maggie's house blew away instantly - her presents, parents, twin white cats, and collection of plastic dolls were gone forever. Maggie cried and I collected her tears to mail my mentor as proof of my skills.
He sent me an achievement certificate on card stock a few days later. I never got another invitation again.
But you could change that.
I'm a good guest. I promise. I always arrive fashionably late and bring dessert.
Valentine's Day is finally over. I can come out now. I had my hands over my eyes, at least mentally, that entire day. But no one can really hide from it, whether they have the prescribed reason to celebrate or not. Finding little boxes of chocolate on my desk from sweet office mates brought a smile to my face. I discovered a heart drawn my attendance sheet and got a "Happy Valentine's Day" from a tardy, but well-meaning kid. I had three books lined up to read, papers to grade, and little writing assignments to finish. But, as it usually happens, the tricky feelings on this day can sneak into your heart even at its' busiest stages. I was not immune. I leaned back in my chair and stared up at the uninspiring ceiling when the feelings first surfaced. "Bah humbug," I muttered, but I couldn't say it with real conviction. I do love this Hallmark holiday. But it never fails to make me feel bad.
This year's V-Day special was a delightful, double-helping of unrequited love. The dish was made of china with delicate pink flowers as a border and the frustrated confusion that sat steaming on the pretty plate had a particularly strong oder. I'm no stranger to it, but the red balloons and stuffed chocolates seem to demand I face it head on with grim satisfaction. Well, so be it. I'm certainly no stranger to it.
It's always a comfort to think of something similar in such a situation - remembering that you're not the only one in the world going through such a trial is hugely effective. So when I tried to push the plate away yesterday, pinching my nose closed and squirming, I thought of Anderson's The Little Mermaid. More specifically, I thought of the Russian film version of it, Rusalochka (1977) by the Gorky Film Studio. It's sitting on my shelf even as I type this, just waiting to be watched again - but a huge portion of the film is on Youtube in clips. That's how I found it in the first place. If any version of The Little Mermaid has ever played up the unrequited love theme, it is certainly this one. And how our mermaid suffers.
What I like most about Russian retellings of fairy tales (and what makes it so easy to sit through strange acting and stranger dubs) is that you can tell how much love and care the crew put into the videos. The costumes are stunningly beautiful (as the actors/actresses can be) and each scene is crammed with little charming details and wonder. Rusalochka is no different.
The plot is essentially the same as Anderson's tale, but with a few surprising and creative changes. A list format for this would be best:
1. The little mermaid receives help from a traveling actor named Sulpitius.
2. The witch is a human who runs the local tavern and bargains for the mermaid's green hair.
3. The human princess (the one who finds the prince on shore) is a horrible, selfish creature.
4. The little mermaid can speak (and when she does, a little bell chimes - indicating the power and beauty of her voice).
5. The Prince participates in a duel to win the selfish princess' affection and actually DIES. The little mermaid and company band together and bring him back to life, at the cost of him never being able to know her.
6. Sulpitius sacrifices his life for the little mermaid so that she won't die after losing the Prince. She will take up a new occupation though, haunting the prince for the rest of his life. Woah.
Crazy, eh? If you don't believe me, you should definitely check it out. Youtube, as I said, offers most of the movie, but you wouldn't know you were missing a chunk unless, well, you read my list. The whole part where the Prince dies in the duel is sadly missing. Well, that's why I have the DVD. Strangely enough, the dubbing runs through the entire movie EXCEPT FOR THE MUSICAL NUMBERS. Whut. The music is pretty awesome because it is just plain silly. Silly and catchy. I feel like I'm missing out by having it suddenly switch back. I guess the dubbers didn't want to tackle the epicness.
Another thing: Prince Antoine is a very handsome young man, but extremely one-dimensional. When my friends and I watched it, we grinned with mirth and called him Stone Face, haha. He can't really get his face to morph into any particular emotion. But I applaud him for trying. Most of the Russian princely character have this problem (yes, I've watched a lot of these, haha).
Everyone knows that unrequited love is the key ingredient for any mermaid story (or any mildly interesting life). I'll finish this bittersweet post with the ending of Rusalochka; Sulpitius disguises himself in a silly mask to challenge the Prince to a duel, thus giving him the opportunity to die and save the little mermaid. You may notice that the sword fight it a little corny. That's okay. Obviously, the Prince isn't a vicious (or skillful) fighter:
Sulpitius: You've been looking for your dream. And you have overlooked it. It is the Little Mermaid!
If only we all had a Sulpitius to jump into action and speak the truth. And if not truth, perhaps announce a strong conviction of feeling that would have otherwise went unnoticed due to unfortunate circumstances. The story of The Little Mermaid continues to exist to sprinkle mermaid's salty tears upon our own wounds, upon the soft bruises of our hearts. Perhaps the sting will be the first sign of healing.