'Fairy Tale and Folklore in the Nineteenth Century', Blackwell Literature Compass, 6.3 (April 2009) 785-98

Fairies and fairy tales continue to intrigue both academic and popular audiences. This article, while exploring the diverse approaches of recent scholars in this field, also raises disciplinary questions. Should the study of folklore and of the literary fairy tale be seen as separate research areas, one the preserve of the cultural historian and folklorist, the other the remit of the literary scholar? Can we even make a clear distinction in the nineteenth century between authored, literary fairy tales and orally collected supernatural folktales? If it is reductive to assume that the fairy tale can always be classified (and potentially dismissed) as children's literature, how might recent trends in Victorian studies suggest new ways of seeing and teaching the genre? Discussing the fairy tale in the context of debates over orality and authenticity, literature and science, all of these questions will be examined below.

Sex, Politics and Religion: The Transformation of the Figure of the Fairy Queen from Thomas off Ersseldoune to ‘‘Thomas Rymer’’

Our earliest version of the Thomas Rymer story is the medieval romance Thomas off Ersseldoune (c.1430). There is a four hundred year lacuna before the ballad “Thomas Rymer”, our next surviving version, is recorded in the early 1800s. In the intervening time the narrative changed very little but the dynamic of the piece, radically. The romance transformed into the highly subversive ballad, “Thomas Rymer”. Central to this transformation is the reconceptualization of the romance's heroine. Referred to simply as the “lufly lady” and caught between her husband, the fay King, and a mere mortal, Thomas, she becomes in the ballad the powerful Queen of the Fairies. The ballad is structured around a series of revelations in which the enigmatic Queen assumes the roles of Eve and Mary, and finally Christ Himself. I will explore the implications of this extraordinary ballad. Moreover, I suggest that it is Queen Elizabeth herself who, ironically, enables the heroine's transformation. “Ironically” because it appears that it was Elizabeth's own restrictions, designed to suppress heretical, seditious or radical literature, which forced Thomas off Ersseldoune (and many other romances which employed religious imagery or figures) out of the written domain and into the oral tradition. And yet, it is Elizabeth who, in creating the image of herself as a female prince, as the Faerie Queen, inspires a new literary vocabulary designed to describe female executive power, without which it would have been impossible to imagine a figure such as the ballad's Queen of the Fairies.