Tales of Passed Times — A Closer Reading

Perrault's Sparse Diction and Moral Codas

Perrault's prose is notably economical. In "Little Red Riding-Hood," the wolf's dialogue is direct and functional: "Grandma, what great ears you have!" The narrator supplies no psychological commentary, leaving the threat to emerge from the repetition of physical details. Similarly, "Blue Beard" advances through terse commands and consequences: "Your tears are useless," said Blue Beard; "you must die." The moral verses appended to each tale—absent from the other authors' contributions—explicitly state the lesson, as in the warning against curiosity in "Blue Beard." This structural choice reflects Perrault's didactic intent, framing the stories as instructive examples for children.

Leprince de Beaumont's Psychological Interiority

In "Beauty and the Beast," the narrator frequently enters Beauty's thoughts. When she discovers a door inscribed "Beauty's Room," the text reports her inner reasoning: "He does not wish me to feel dull." Her courage is rebuilt through self-encouragement, and her dream of a lady promising reward provides moral validation. The Beast's dialogue, too, emphasizes consent: "will you allow me to look on while you are eating your supper?" This emphasis on choice and emotional growth distinguishes Leprince de Beaumont's method from Perrault's external action. The tale's length allows for sustained character development, with Beauty's reflections on the Beast's kindness gradually replacing her fear.

D'Aulnoy's Ornamental Magic and Expanded Settings

D'Aulnoy's tales employ more elaborate magical apparatus. In "The Benevolent Frog," a woman of gigantic size clothed in a lion's skin appears, and the narrative lingers on visual details. The frog herself is a talking animal with agency, not merely a transformed prince. D'Aulnoy's sentences are longer, with clauses that accumulate descriptive flourishes. Her worlds include multiple enchanted objects and transformations, creating a denser fairy-tale atmosphere. The editor's preface notes that her writings possess "an atmosphere of hidden magic," a quality that contrasts with Perrault's more grounded marvels. This stylistic divergence makes d'Aulnoy's contributions feel more like literary fantasies than folk-derived tales.

The Illustrations as Interpretive Frame

Charles Robinson's twelve illustrations, including the frontispiece of Cinderella, offer visual interpretations that shape reading. The image of the Sleeping Beauty in a swoon emphasizes passivity, while the wolf's oversized ears in "Little Red Riding-Hood" heighten the grotesque. Robinson's style—detailed line work with decorative borders—echoes the period's aesthetic for children's books. The illustrations are not merely decorative; they select key moments for emphasis, such as the king's son giving Cinderella his hand, or the merchant arriving just as Beauty watches in the mirror. Comparing these visual choices with the text reveals how illustrators prioritize certain narrative beats over others.

Readers attentive to authorial voice will notice how each tale's diction and pacing reflect its writer's background: Perrault's courtly concision, Leprince de Beaumont's moral psychology, and d'Aulnoy's baroque invention. The collection invites comparison not only of plots but of the very different ways these authors constructed wonder and instruction. Pay particular attention to how each tale handles the moment of transformation—whether through a prince's kiss, a beast's patience, or a frog's intervention—as these scenes crystallize each author's approach to magic and character.

That rainy afternoon, reading Perrault and d’Aulnoy side by side, I kept noticing how each storyteller’s voice pulled at the same old threads differently—the quiet pride, the unexplained kindness. Later, idly wondering whether anyone had ever sorted such tangled traditions, I stumbled into The Fairy Books of Andrew Lang A Project Gutenberg Linked Index to All Stories in the 12 Volumes — Themes and Context, and the rain seemed to soften around me.