Do you know Merida? I suppose not. Not unless the only movies you watch are animated, have twittering birds in the background and generous amounts of flowing pink fabrics and tiaras.
I am now convinced Disney is run by a bunch of hormonal teenage boys
Merida, for the Disney-uninitiated, is a Scottish princess, one of a bevy of Disney princesses.
However, unlike other Disney princesses, she is not a wuss, but a bit of a tomboy and a go-getter, with unruly red hair and an impish face. When Brave, the movie in which she stars, came out last year I felt like giving it a standing ovation at the cinema theatre.
Finally, a princess that we parents have been praying for: a strong, confident, self-rescuing princess ready to set off on adventures with her bow slung over her shoulder. She even looks and talks like a real girl, walks in a clumsy fashion and does not just float about being kind and nice.
There is no prince charming in sight and the fluttering, twittering birds are replaced by grisly bears. Merida broke the mould – she is not just a pretty face waiting for romance.
Brave was a first in Disney’s cinematic history – and I should know, seeing as, thanks to my six-year-old daughter, I’m on first-name basis with all these princesses and can tell you what each of them has for breakfast.
But last week – stupidly and horrifically – Disney spoilt it all. Merida was given a makeover for her official introduction to the Disney Princess Collection line: she has been redrawn in a slimmer, older and somewhat sexualised manner.
Goodbye teenage tomboy, hello glammed-up siren. Skinny Merida now wears an off-the-shoulder dress, a tight dress for which the princess herself expressed hatred in the film, and has a sexy ‘come-hither’ look.
An uproar ensued, and it is still ongoing in foreign media, with a petition doing the rounds on change.org signed by more than 200,000 people.
An upset mother e-mailed me, aghast: “Why change Merida? Why aren’t other damsels in distress like Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella or Snow White revamped to become empowered women who fulfil their own dreams?”
And in response, Disney – which I am now convinced is run by a bunch of hormonal teenage boys – said: “She remains the same strong and determined Merida from the movie whose inner qualities have inspired moms and daughters around the world.”
Oh yes, those inner qualities. While writing the draft of this column, I was surrounded by my daughter and her friends, whose eyes all go twinkly the minute you mention ‘a princess’. So in the name of research I asked them to explain a princess’s job to me.
“A princess’s job is very important,” said one. “It’s to keep the kingdom happy.”
“Yes, so that the people of the kingdom do not become miserable,” said another, giving me examples of singing princesses, who plant flowers and cheer people up.
The prince, I was told, has a very important job too: he has to go to war “and so on”, and the princess has to give him courage.
Courage? I ask.
“Yes! By saying: ‘You can do it!’ before he leaves for war”. Princesses never fight, “only the very brave, like Merida do so.”
Most of the time, I was told, it’s the prince who rescues the princess, and they couldn’t think of an instance when it happened the other way round.
“Except Merida!” said one. “She saves her mummy; she is very brave. And then they say sorry to each other – it’s because they were not listening properly to each other.”
I sigh with relief, and by now you’ll have grasped why I’m such a big fan of this Scots princess.
Practically all the others – Cinderella, Belle, Sleeping Beauty, Esmeralda, Jasmine – they are all perfect role models for little girls to learn that it’s OK to be bullied around, as long as you hang on long enough for a guy in fancy tights to save you. Oh, and as long as you look like a saucy vixen.
I find all this so worrying. To what extent are our children being brainwashed?
I ask my daughter what she would do if she were a princess and there was danger lurking. Would she hang around and wait for the prince?
“Well, imagine if a volcano explodes and there is lots of lava,” she said (her best friend just went on Mount Etna).
“If you are a princess, you can’t just stop and cry: ‘Prince! Save me! Save me!’ because what if the prince hears your shouting at the very last minute? Then he won’t manage to save you and you die in the lava. Instead, if you are a princess you have to run and do it yourself.”
Hear that Disney? I’d like to see this plot turned into a movie.
krischetcuti@gmail.com