CÁMARA DE DIPUTADOS

The existence of two antithetical domains distinguishes the fairy tale from the various single-domain genres discussed above. However, their presence alone is not unique to the fairy tale; on the contrary, genres such as legends or religious tales also encompass one human, “realistic” domain and one that might tentatively be labelled as non-realistic or supernatural. Taking its cue from Lüthi (1986[1947]), the present research argues that what does set the fairy tale apart from other dyadic genres is the spatial construction and relationship between its two domains.

Lüthi (1986[1947]) stresses the importance of the relationship between the fairy- tale domains as a genre-specific feature in his comparison of the fairy tale and the legend (see also Lüthi 1976[1969]a). Specifically, he describes this relationship in terms of distance, insisting that the physical division between the magical and the non-magical is manifested as immense spatial distances. These, Lüthi claims, compensate for the absence of an ontological “distance” between the non-magical and the magical (1986[1947]: 9, 43). In other words, because the “otherworld” is not really perceived as “other”, it must be located far, far away (the opposite is true of legends). Messerli also notes that the magical domain is “remote” from the non- magical one, forcing protagonists to “undertake long wanderings” to reach it (2005: 277).

While building on Lüthiʼs insistence on the importance of spatial organisation, the present research challenges his claims regarding spatial separation between the domains by proposing that, while a prevalent motif, large distance is not the only means of separating the non-magical from the magical. In fact, it is mostly reserved for quest or adventure fairy tales in which protagonists have to travel far and wide to encounter the magical. However, this is not the case in all (KHM) fairy tales; on the contrary, as tales such as “Cinderella”, in which the heroine receives magical assistance at the near-by grave of her mother, or “Rapunzel” (KHM 12, ATU 310), in which the sorceress lives next door to Rapunzel’s parents, show, the magical may be lurking just around the proverbial corner. Furthermore, not all fairy tales depict the journey into the magical domain or even (explicitly) the magical domain itself. In “Rumpelstiltskin” or “Brier Rose” (KHM 50, ATU 410), not only do protagonists not journey into the magical, but the magical appears within the non-magical

domain, suggesting that the transference between the realms unfolds in both directions.

Since the fairy-tale domains are not necessarily distant from each other, this research argues that their relationship and spatial organisation are primarily characterised by clear spatial demarcation. In other words, the domains are separated by firm boundaries which can only be crossed temporarily and, as the following chapter will demonstrate, under specific conditions. In fact, it is precisely because the two domains may exist in close proximity to each other that they must be delineated and firmly separated by boundaries. In addition to large distances, the interdomain boundary can be manifested as a physical obstacle, such as the sea (“Faithful Ferdinand and Unfaithful Ferdinand”, KHM 126, ATU 531), seashore (“The Fisherman and His Wife”, KHM 19, ATU 555), river (“The Devil With the Three Golden Hairs”, KHM 29, ATU 461, 930), or forest edge (“Hansel and Gretel”, KHM 15, ATU 327A), or as a passage. A prominent place among the passages or “en route” spaces (Jason 1988: 74) in the KHM belongs to roads and wells. In “Mother Holle”, for instance, a well connects the non-magical domain of the heroine (mouth of the well) and the magical domain of the titular helper (bottom of the well). Roads do not necessarily have to lead from the magical to the non-magical but can also serve as a liminal space in which the magical and the non-magical come into contact. More than one KHM protagonist meets a magical helper while on the road: in “The Griffin” (KHM 165, ATU 610, 513B, 461), for instance, the simple-minded Hans comes across a helpful dwarf while making his way to the palace. It should be noted that not all Grimmsʼ fairy tales explicitly depict the interdomain boundary, just as they do not always explicitly depict the magical domain. The boundary can also be symbolic, manifested as the special conditions which have to be met in order for the non-magical and the magical to interact (see Chapter 4).

Although the two domains exist independently and separately from each other, one being generally inaccessible to inhabitants of the other, the fairy-tale narrative requires them to come into contact. This means that the characters who are initially separated and confined to their “native” or endemic domains must temporarily destabilise that separation and interact with each other, only to restore the initial spatial relations by returning to their endemic domain. The basic plot structure of the fairy tale can therefore be described, using Carl Lindhalʼs colourful image, as “a kind of magic sandwich” (2018: 13) in which the interaction between the non-magical (N) and the magical (M) is bookended by (or “sandwiched” between) the initial and final separation (see Figure 3.).

Figure 3. Fairy-tale domains (Source: the author).

The initial contact between the non-magical and the magical is typically established within some kind of liminal space such as the aforementioned road, heath, wilderness, or forest. Significantly, these are usually natural spaces, which stand in contrast to human (especially domestic) environments. In order to encounter the magical, the protagonist must therefore leave home. Unlike the two domains, the liminal space is accessible to both magical and non-magical characters. Jason lists the liminal or “in-between” space among the three worlds (domains) of the fairy tale (1988: 20). The present research does not consider the liminal to be a separate domain because it presents a kind of neutral ground between the non-magical and the magical, which belongs to both domains (cf. Lotman 1990: 136) while being neither magical nor non-magical itself. Moreover, no characters are “native” to the liminal space.

The encounter between the magical and the non-magical, a key “ingredient” of the fairy-tale genre, is therefore predicated on the crossing of spatial boundaries, i.e. spatial transference. The significance of spatial transference for the fairy tale has been extensively commented on in existing scholarship. For the most part, it is viewed as a fundamental structural principle (Propp 1990[1946]: 77), a narrative framework that allows for almost limitless insertions of new episodes (cf. Lüthi 1986[1947]). As a symbolically highly potent element, it has inspired a wide range of interpretations: some scholars understand it as a symbol of a rite of passage or initiation ritual (cf. Propp 1990[1946]), or some form of psychological development, especially the process of self-discovery, maturation (Bettelheim 1991[1976]), and socialisation (Zipes 2006[1983]). The journey into the unknown, magical domain is variously interpreted as a symbolic journey into the subconscious (Bettelheim 1991[1976]) or even the afterworld, the realm of the dead (Röhrich 2008[2002]: 96). Furthermore, some definitions of the genre, such as the one proposed by Propp, highlight the dynamic nature of the fairy-tale narrative, describing it as a series of transferences of the wandering hero/ine (1990[1946]: 34–35). The fairy-tale protagonist is often defined precisely in terms of his or her mobility, as a “free- moving wanderer” (Lüthi 1970[1962]: 141) who “goes off into the unknown” (Lüthi 1987[1975]: 155), “a traveller […] who transgresses boundaries” (Bacchilega 1997:

141), a “homo viator” (Röhrich 2008[2002]: 102) constantly moving between two worlds (Tatar 2003[1987]: 61). In fact, only those characters who refuse to be “confined within the narrow boundaries of homeland” (Messerli 2005: 277) become the focus of narrative attention, while those who stay behind are typically forgotten. This is hardly surprising considering the fact that immobility traditionally connotes stagnancy and predictability (Leeuwen 2007: 23), which is not conducive to the fairy tale’s focus on change and transformation.

To be sure, the significance of spatial transference extends well beyond the fairy tale. In fact, spatial transference in general – and the journey in particular – provides both a “model narrative” and the “model for narrative” (Mikkonen 2007: 286) for a large number of genres, such as the Arthurian romance (Vermette 1987) or the picaresque novel (Mickelsen 1981), to name but a couple. In fact, as Dean Duda points out, travelling and narrating are so closely intertwined they can almost be understood as synonyms (1998: 33). Michel de Certeau offers a similar point of view when he claims that “[e]very story is a travel story – a spatial practice” (1988[1980]: 115). While the significance of spatial transference as a model for structuring and means of propelling the plot forwards extends well beyond the fairy tale, what is specific to this genre is the fact that transference is a precondition for the encounter between the non-magical and the magical which, in turn, is a sine qua non of the fairy tale.

Although (as Chapter 4 will demonstrate) magical characters also engage in spatial transference, the aforementioned encounter between the non-magical and the magical is usually dependent on the protagonist, whose actions either enable the appearance of the magical within the non-magical (see Chapter 4) or constitute a departure from the non-magical domain (usually embodied in the space of home). To enable the contact with the magical, the story will come up with any excuse to prompt the protagonistʼs departure from home, from poverty and family conflict to various tasks and errands (Lüthi 1986[1947]: 16). The departure from home is exclusive to human, non-magical characters. This is largely predicated on the fact that the fairy tale typically focuses on human protagonists and begins in domestic, non-magical spaces. While magical characters are also mobile, their point of departure is usually not mentioned; rather, they simply appear within the non- magical domain. In some cases, this is true of non-magical characters as well, as some stories begin after the departure from home has already taken place. In other words, the initial movement from home is omitted and the character is introduced as already uprooted and mobile. This is often the case in tales of discharged soldiers (e.g. “The Blue Light”, KHM 116, ATU 562; “The Worn-out Dancing Shoes”, KHM 133, ATU 306), whose “careers” as literary characters typically begin at the moment when their military careers have come to an end. Despite its absence from the

narrative, the protagonist’s departure from home prior to the events of the story is implied.

Despite being a crucial first step, spatial transference (typically manifested as the protagonistʼs departure from home) is not the only requirement for crossing the interdomain boundary. Consider the many older siblings of the KHM fairy tales who set off on quests but fail to enter the magical domain (e.g. “The Golden Bird”, KHM 57, ATU 550; “The Three Feathers”, KHM 63, ATU 402 ; “The Water of Life”, KHM 97, ATU 551). Rather, characters who wish to enter the domain they are not endemic to must meet specific conditions which vary depending on the direction of the spatial transference. As the following chapter will demonstrate, these conditions, coupled with the possibility of crossing the interdomain boundary from both sides and the fact that this crossing is always temporary, set the fairy tale apart from other dyadic genres.