The Prince of Marsillac did succumb to some pox or consumption, as Margarethe had predicted—the lone example of her reporting gossip accurately instead of inventing it for her own ends. He left Clara with two children and a secure income from estates in France. Clara outlived her magnificent beauty, as women must, and in another one of her fits of sudden anguish she took herself off to New Amsterdam, on the other side of the gray Atlantic. Who knows what bumblebees, crows, or she-elephants lurked there to pester her! It was from New Amsterdam that the letter came, from a predikant of the colony, to tell her relatives she had died and was buried in the churchyard, in view of a substantial harbor that is home to ships from the Netherlands and all of Europe besides. She died of a complaint of the heart.
Of van Stolk? The memory here fades. He never did possess the van den Meer house, of course. I suppose he aged and moved in with relatives. And it was always unclear to me whether he had been an abductor of young Clara, or had this only been a fancy of hers, a crystallization of her terrors about the dangerous world? And regardless of the outcome, was that kidnapping a premeditated affair, after all, arranged because of the wealth of her family? Or was it the inspiration of a moment, because the child was known and loved, and had wandered away from her family? And because, money or no, she must have been splendid to see, as children can be. At the age of three or four, a treasury of smiles, a dancing wreath of light. All that quicksilver attention to the world! Children, like artists, like to look.
Crows and scavengers at the top of the story, finches at the top of the linden tree. God and Satan snarling at each other like dogs. Imps and fairy godmothers trying to undo each other’s work. You might be born as the donkey-jawed Dame Handelaers or as dazzling Clara van den Meer, Young Woman with Tulips. How we try to pin the world between opposite extremes! And in such a world, as Margarethe used to ask, what is the use of beauty? I have lived my life surrounded by painters, and I still do not know the answer. But I suspect, some days, that beauty helps protect the spirit of mankind, swaddle it and succor it, so that we might survive. Beauty is no end in itself, but if it makes our lives less miserable so that we might be more kind—well, then, let’s have beauty, painted on our porcelain, hanging on our walls, ringing through our stories. We are a sorry tribe of beasts. We need all the help we can get.
Before leaving for the new world—another new world!—Clara returned to Haarlem once, to see her father a last time. Margarethe wouldn’t descend from her room, claiming that the presence of Clara might restore her eyesight, and in her old age she preferred her blindness. Papa Cornelius, however, took great pleasure in Clara’s highborn position. He delighted in his grandchildren and showered them with kisses.
The children loved to run in the sheds where the new tulips were being cultivated. I remember seeing them one morning. They were playing a game of hide and chase. They were oblivious of any imps in the shadows, or hairy-chinned spiders in the rafters. The children tore up and down the long corridors made by rows of rough tables supporting great artificial fields of flower. The new plants were abundant, ranks of spears poking up through the soil. You could barely see the blond heads of the children in a blur as they raced along.
It would have made a nice painting, were someone to choose something as lowly as that to study. Another story, a story written in oils rather than one painted on porcelain. But to be most effective, the faces of the children would need to be painted in a blur, the way all children’s faces truly are. For they blur as they run; they blur as they grow and change so fast; and they blur to keep us from loving them too deeply, for their protection, and also for ours.
READER’S GROUP
GUIDE
1. While versions of the Cinderella story go back at least a thousand years, most Americans are familiar with the tale of the glass slippers, the pumpkin coach, and the fairy godmother. In what ways does Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister contain the magical echo of this tale, and in what ways does it embrace the traditions of a straight historical novel?
2. Confessions is, in part, about the difficulty and the value of seeing—seeing paintings, seeing beauty, seeing the truth. Each character in Confessions has blinkers or blinders on about one thing or another. What do the characters overlook, in themselves and in one another?
3. Discuss the role of artistic representation in Confessions. Consider the two portraits the Master paints. What do they say about each other, and about art? What does the Master purport to want to capture in his paintings, and why?
4. Gregory Maguire posits four types of beauty in the novel: that of physical human grace and perfection, that of flower blossoms, that of art, and that of the gesture of charity. Is it possible to make a statement about the relative values of beauty? How is each type of beauty represented in the story?
5. Is Clara’s extreme beauty really an affliction, as Iris suggests, making her just another addition to the Gallery of God’s Mistakes? Do you think her beauty is a curse or a blessing?
6. Iris is possessed by visions of imps and hobgoblins—her imagination transforms a crone into the Queen of the Hairy-Chinned Gypsies, a windmill into a ferocious giant, and smoke on the horizon into a dragon’s breath. Why do you think she sees the world this way? Ultimately, is there an imp in the van den Meer house?
7. The early seventeenth century was a time in which the Dutch, it is said, invented the idea of the “comfortable home.” How does the van den Meer home reflect the family within? What elements in Confessions rely on the need to keep up appearances?
8. How does the story of van den Meer’s rising and falling fortunes in the tulip market relate to Clara’s tale? What lessons does it offer us today?
9. Clara is preoccupied with the idea that she may be a changeling. Why does she think, even hope, that she is one? In the end, how might we redefine the term “changeling” with Clara in mind?
10. In considering Marie de Medici’s scheme to marry off her godson, Margarethe professes an admiration for the Dowager Queen, saying, “Why shouldn’t she arrange the world to suit herself? Wouldn’t we all, if we could?” Discuss the ways that Margarethe arranges the world to suit herself. What does her favorite saying, “Give me room to cast my eel spear, and let follow what may,” tell us about her?
11. When Iris asks the crone about casting a magic spell on someone, the crone replies, “It’s your own job to change yourself”. Transformation is one of the main themes of “Cinderella,” and of Confessions. Discuss the ways in which the characters are transformed or transform themselves over the course of the novel. What’s the value and/or the cost of transformation for each?
12. Van den Meer’s Households Margarethe tells Iris, “women must collaborate or perish.” Does Margarethe really believe this statement? In what ways do women collaborate or fail to collaborate in the story?
13. The novel begins and ends with the issue of charity—Margarethe’s request for charity in a strange town and Clara’s act of charity toward her stepmother and stepsisters. Discuss how these scenes frame the story. At the ball, the Master says, “perhaps charity is the kind of beauty that we comprehend the best because we miss it the most”. What does this mean to you?
14. How has the book changed your conception of the Cinderella story? The notion of “happily ever after”?
About the Author
Gregory Maguire’s first two books, Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West and Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister, were national bestsellers that earned him rave reviews and a dedicated literary following. Maguire received his doctorate at Tufts University and has served as an artist-in-residence at the Blue Mountain Center, the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, and the Hambidge Center. He lives in Concord, Massachusetts.
Praise for
Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister
“Absolutely spellbinding. Ironic, sophisticated, almost supernaturally well written, this is one amazing novel.”
—Bellingham Herald
“Captivating
and beautifully written . . . Confessions is a rich canvas of colorful characters and fantastic events rendered by an artist attentive to every surface and texture.”
—Book Magazine
“Adult and sophisticated . . . Confessions has its roots in a fanciful tale—the Cinderella story—but it teases out motifs deeper than the generic fall-in-love-and-marry-the-prince-happily-ever-after. . . . Witty and wise.”
—Chicago Tribune
“Heartfelt. . . . [Maguire] dissects our preoccupation with physical beauty and its virtuous connotations by taking the well known fairy tale, standing it on its head, and turning out its pockets.
—Austin Chronicle
“A vision that fantasy lovers will find hard to resist.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Highly absorbing. . . . Maguire’s precise, slightly archaic language . . . sweeps readers through this mysterious and fascinating story.”
—Booklist
“Lively and delicious . . . its language is an extraordinary blend of moving narrative and music. . . . [Maguire’s] books may be placed beside the works of Marion Zimmer Bradley, John Crowley and the late Mervyn Peake.”
—Memphis Commercial Appeal
“Gregory Maguire has applied his devilish writing style and vivid imagination to the story of the glass slipper, and, in doing so, turned this simple tale into a Gothic saga of 17th-century Holland.”
—Fort Worth Morning Star-Telegram
“[An] engrossing story . . . endearing and memorable.”
—Boston Herald
“A wonderful tangle of human foibles and weaknesses . . . a book for the lovers of words.”
—Albany Times Union
“Maguire’s triumph is that he manages the impossible: He provides a wonderful surprise ending without changing the story of ‘Cinderella’ [and] he successfully challenges the notions of good and evil.”
—Metroland
And for
Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West
“An amazing novel.”
—John Updike
“I fell quickly and totally under the spell of this remarkable, wry, and fully realized story.”
—Wally Lamb
“Save a space on the shelf between Alice and The Hobbit.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“A staggering feat of wordcraft. . . . [Maguire] has created . . . one of the great heroines in fantasy literature.”
—Los Angeles Times
“Very close to being an instant classic. . . . Maguire has hit a home run his first time at bat.”
—Memphis Commercial Appeal
Also by Gregory Maguire
ALSO BY GREGORY MAGUIRE Wicked Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister
Credits
Illustrations by Bill Sanderson
Cover art direction by Richard Pracher
Cover illustration © 1999 by Douglas Smith
Original book design by Joseph Rutt
e-book cover design by John Lewis
Copyright
For artist residencies during which parts of this book germinated and were written, the author would like to thank the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston, Blue Mountain Center in upstate New York, the Hambidge Center in northern Georgia, and the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts.
CONFESSIONS OF AN UGLY STEPSISTER. COPYRIGHT © 1999 BY GREGORY MAGUIRE. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Contains “Cinderilla, or, The Little Glass Slipper” from Perrault’s Histories (1729)
Epub edition September 2002 ISBN 9780061762598
A hardcover edition of this book was published by ReganBooks, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers, in 1999.
First paperback edition published 2000.
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Cinderilla
or,
The Little Glass Slipper
From Charles Perrault's Contes de ma Mere L'Oye (1697)
As published in Perrault's Histories (London: J. Pote & R. Montagu, 1729)
[Original spellings maintained]
There was once upon a time, a gentleman who married for his second wife the proudest and most haughty woman that ever was known. She had been a widow, and had by her former husband two daughters of her own humour, who were exactly like her in all things. He had also by a former wife a young daughter, but of an unparallelled goodness and sweetness of temper, which she took from her mother, who was the best creature in the world.
No sooner were the ceremonies of the wedding over, but the mother-in-law began to display her ill humour; she could not bear the good qualities of this pretty girl; and the less, because they made her own daughters so much the more hated and despised. She employed her in the meanest work of the house, she cleaned the dishes and stands, and rubbed Madam's chamber, and those of the young Madams her daughters: she lay on the top of the house in a garret, upon a wretched straw bed, while her sisters lay in fine rooms, with floors all inlaid, upon beds of the newest fashion, and where they had looking-glasses so large, that they might see themselves at their full length, from head to foot. The poor girl bore all patiently, and dared not tell her father, who would have rattled her off; for his wife governed him intirely. When she had done her work, she used to go into the chimney corner, and sit down upon the cinders, which made her commonly be called in the house Cinderbreech: but the youngest, who was not so rude and uncivil as the eldest, called her Cinderilla. However, Cinderilla, not withstanding her poor clothes, was a hundred times handsomer than her sisters, though they wore the most magnificent apparel.
Now, it happened that the King's son gave a ball, and invited all persons of quality to it: our young ladies were also invited; for they made a very great figure. They were very well pleased thereat, and were very busy in choosing out such gowns, petticoats, and head-clothes as might become them best. This was a new trouble to Cinderilla; for it was she that ironed her sisters linnen, and plaited their ruffles; they talked all day long of nothing but how they should be dress'd. For my part, said the eldest, I'll wear my red velvet suit, with French trimming. And I, said the youngest, will have my common petticoat; but then, to make amends for that, I'll put on my gold flowered manteau, and my diamond stomacher, which is not the most indifferent in the world. They sent for the best tirewoman they could get, to dress their heads, and adjust their double pinners, and they had their red brushes and patches from Mrs. De la poche.
Cinderilla advised them the best in the
world, and offered herself to dress their heads; which they were very willing she should do. As she was doing this, they said to her, Cinderilla, would you not be glad to go to the ball? Ah! said she, you only banter me; it is not for such as I am to go thither. You are in the right of it, said they, it would make the people laugh to see a Cinderbreech at a ball. Any one but Cinderilla would have dressed their heads awry; but she was very good, and dress'd them perfectly well. They were almost two days without eating, so much were they transported with joy: they broke above a dozen of laces in trying to be laced up close, that they might have a fine slender shape, and they were continually at their looking-glass. At last the happy day came; they went to court, and Cinderilla followed them with her eyes as long as she could, and when she had lost sight of them, she fell a crying.
Her godmother, who saw her all in tears, asked her what was the matter? I wish I could—, I wish I could—; she could not speak the rest, her tears interrupting her. Her godmother, who was a Fairy, said to her, Thou wishest thou could'st go to the ball, is it not so? Y—es, said Cinderilla, with a great Sob. Well, said her godmother, be but a good girl, and I'll contrive thou shalt go. Then she took her into her chamber, and said to her, go into the garden, and bring me a pompion; Cinderilla went immediately to gather the finest she could get, and brought it to her Godmother, not being able to imagine how this pompion could make her go to the ball: her godmother scooped out all the inside of it, having left nothing but the rind; she struck it with her wand, and the pompion immediately was turned into a fine coach, gilt all over with gold. After that, she went to look into her mouse-trap, where she found six mice all alive; she ordered Cinderilla to lift up a little the trap door, and she gave every mouse that went out a stroke with her wand, and the mouse was that moment turned into a fine horse, which all together made a very fine set of six horses, of a beautiful mouse-coloured dapple grey. As she was at a loss for a coach-man, I'll go and see, says Cinderilla, if there be never a rat in the rat-trap, we'll make a coach-man of him. You are in the right, said her godmother, go and see. Cinderilla brought the trap to her, and in it there were three huge rats: the Fairy made choice of one of the three, which had the largest beard, and having touched him with her wand, he was turned into a fat jolly coach-man, that had the finest whiskers as ever were seen.