'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.

Home Is Where the Self Is: Monodrama, Journey-Play Structure, and the Modernist Fairy Tale

The first decade of the twentieth century witnessed the creation of two of the most beloved works of children’s literature ever produced. L. Frank Baum’s 1900 novel The Wizard of Oz and Maurice Maeterlinck’s 1908 play each gave rise to many adaptations, including, well beloved film versions, and both have become a deeply ingrained part of the cultural memory and construction of childhood in both Europe and the United States. And while these works are deeply original in content and detail, the structure of these works harkens back to the form of the journey play (traceable, on some level, back to the medieval morality play Everyman), a form that had undergone a considerable revival in the second half of the nineteenth century in the work of writers such as Henrik Ibsen and August Strindberg. This article explores the structural and conceptual links between Baum and Maeterlinck’s children’s classics, Ibsen’s Norwegian folk play Peer Gynt, and August Strindberg’s Lucky Per’s Journey and The Road to Damascus, Part I. In these works, the protagonists, disenchanted with their homes or current situations, set out on an epic journey in which they come upon characters and situations that act as commentary upon their situations before the journey. Ultimately, the characters return to where they started, with the journey seeming to have been a dream or merely a pointless excursion. But in these journeys of self-discovery, the protagonist that emerges at the end has undergone a significant transformation, a process at the heart of all of these works.

The Victorian Press and the Fairy Tale (paperback)

Victorian writers often claimed that the press was killing the fairy tale. In fact, it ensured the genre's popularity, bringing literary tales and folklore to the first mass readerships. Exploring penny weeklies, adult and children's monthlies, little magazines and the labour press, this innovative study is the first to combine media and fairy tale history. Bringing reading communities back into focus, Sumpter explores ingenious political uses of the fairy tale: in debates over socialism, evolution and race, and in the context of women's rights, decadence and gay culture. The book offers new insights into the popularisation of folklore and comparative science, and also recovers neglected visual material. From the fantasies of Kingsley, MacDonald and J. H. Ewing to the writings of Keir Hardie, Laurence Housman and Yeats, Sumpter reveals that the fairy tale was intimately shaped by the press, and that both were at the heart of nineteenth-century culture.

The paperback edition includes a new Preface.

Joining the `Crusade against the Giants': Keir Hardie's Fairy Tales and The Socialist Child Reader

This article focuses on Keir Hardie's forgotten fiction and journalism for children, published in his paper The Labour Leader during the 1890s. It argues that Hardie's dialogue with child correspondents was shaped by a socialist periodical culture that redefined reading as a communal, political activity. Relating Hardie's appropriation of fantasy to that of a fellow socialist editor, John Trevor, the article examines the fairy tale as a propaganda tool in the process of `making socialists', but also questions the model of child readers as passive consumers, arguing that young readers were both empowered and controlled by Hardie's journalistic strategies.

The text and the tale: differences between scientific reports and scientists’ reportings on the eruption of Mount Chance, Montserrat

This article looks at the difference between scientists’ written reports and their oral accounts, explanations and stories. The subject of these discourses is the eruption of Mount Chance on Montserrat, a British Overseas Territory in the Eastern Caribbean, and its continued monitoring and reporting. Scientific notions of risk and uncertainty which feature in these texts and tales will subsequently be examined and critiqued. Further to this, this article will end by pointing out that, ironically, the latter - the tale – can in some cases be a more effective and approximate mode of communication with the public than the former – the text.

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.