Rumpelstiltskin His head is okay

but the rest of him wasn't Sanforized?

By Anne Sexton
He is a monster of despair.

He is all decay.

INTRODUCTION He speaks up as tiny as an earphone

Fairytales have a power few of us realize. The stories shape with Truman's asexual voice:
many of our fantasies as children; they also condition us to I am your dwarf.
accept traditional gender roles as we grow up. Anne Sexton
understood their power and influence. She brilliantly tapped I am the enemy within.
into that power and transformed the tales in a way that
forces the reader to look at them with fresh eyes. In her I am the boss of your dreams.
poem Rumpelstiltskin, Anne Sexton takes a grim and twisted No. I am not the law in your mind,
approach to the already grim and twisted version originated
by the Brothers Grimm. But this is more than just a fairy the grandfather of watchfulness.
tail . . . . lying just beneath the surface whispers a
commentary on the burdens and fears of women in a society I am the law of your members,
shaped by male dominance. Rumpelstiltskin by Anne the kindred of blackness and impulse.
Sexton.
See. Your hand shakes.

It is not palsy or booze.

Inside many of us It is your Doppelganger
is a small old man trying to get out.
who wants to get out. Beware... Beware...
No bigger than a two-year-old

whom you'd call lamb chop There once was a miller

yet this one is old and malformed. with a daughter as lovely as a grape.
He told the king that she could If I'm in my cups the whole town knows by breakfast

spin gold out of common straw. and no child will ever call me Papa

The king summoned the girl I am eighteen inches high.

and locked her in a room full of straw I am no bigger than a partridge.

and told her to spin it into gold I am your evil eye

or she would die like a criminal. and no child will ever call me Papa.

Poor grape with no one to pick. Stop this Papa foolishness,

Luscious and round and sleek. she cried. Can you perhaps

Poor thing. spin straw into gold?

To die and never see Brooklyn. Yes indeed, he said,

that I can do.

She wept, He spun the straw into gold

of course, huge aquamarine tears. and she gave him her necklace

The door opened and in popped a dwarf. as a small reward.

He was as ugly as a wart. When the king saw what she had done

Little thing, what are you? she cried. he put her in a bigger room of straw

With his tiny no-sex voice he replied: and threatened death once more.

I am a dwarf. Again she cried.

I have been exhibited on Bond Street Again the dwarf came.

and no child will ever call me Papa. Again he spun the straw into gold.

I have no private life. She gave him her ring

as a small reward. He was like most new babies,

The king put her in an even bigger room as ugly as an artichoke

but this time he promised but the queen thought him in pearl.

to marry her if she succeeded. She gave him her dumb lactation,

Again she cried. delicate, trembling, hidden,

Again the dwarf came. warm, etc.

But she had nothing to give him. And then the dwarf appeared

Without a reward the dwarf would not spin. to claim his prize.

He was on the scent of something bigger. Indeed! I have become a papa!

He was a regular bird dog. cried the little man.

Give me your first-born She offered him all the kingdom

and I will spin. but he wanted only this -

She thought: Piffle! a living thing

He is a silly little man. to call his own.

And so she agreed. And being mortal

So he did the trick. who can blame him?

Gold as good as Fort Knox.

The queen cried two pails of sea water.

The king married her She was as persistent

and within a year as a Jehovah's Witness.

a son was born. And the dwarf took pity.

He said: I will give you burning in front of it.

three days to guess my name Around that fire a ridiculous little man

and if you cannot do it was leaping on one leg and singing:

I will collect your child. Today I bake.

The queen sent messengers Tomorrow I brew my beer.

throughout the land to find names The next day the queen's only child will be mine.

of the most unusual sort. Not even the census taker knows

When he appeared the next day that Rumpelstiltskin is my name...

she asked: Melchior? The queen was delighted.

Balthazar? She had the name!

But each time the dwarf replied: Her breath blew bubbles.

No! No! That's not my name.

The next day she asked: When the dwarf returned

Spindleshanks? Spiderlegs? she called out:

But it was still no-no. Is your name by any chance Rumpelstiltskin?

On the third day the messenger He cried: The devil told you that!

came back with a strange story. He stamped his right foot into the ground

He told her: and sank in up to his waist.

As I came around the corner of the wood Then he tore himself in two.

where the fox says good night to the hare Somewhat like a split broiler.

I saw a little house with a fire He laid his two sides down on the floor,
one part soft as a woman,

one part a barbed hook,

one part papa,

one part Doppelganger.

SOURCE INFORMATION
Author: Anne Sexton
Book: Transformations
ISBN: 978-0618083435
Publisher: Mariner Books
Date (Month/Year): Feb 2001

AWARD HISTORY
2004 National Qualifier