ci luk ba

under the table and dreaming

 

#2

book : Matthew Reinhart | Cinderella [A Pop-up Fairy Tale]
song : Ilene Woods & Mike Douglas | So This is Love

Who doesn’t know Cinderella? Her tales have been told for hundreds of years. The world called her Cinderella, Cenerentola, Askepott, Aschenputtel, Cendrillon—and probably the oldest known portrayal of this lady—Rhodopis. I won’t re-tell you her story because everyone’s familiar with that, thus I’d share to you my experience with her.

I still remember boldly in one afternoon when I was 5, my father sat me on his lap and showed me its 1950s animated movie by Walt Disney. Ever since, my world grew as rose-pink as Cindy’s cheeks. I became the hopelessly romantic, the girliest of a girl, the toddler in a fantasy world full of unicorns and rainbows—and believe it or not, still goes on. It’s not until college that I started reading Disney’s princesses classics. Why? I remember all the way from junior high to high school, I was itching to toss all the girlish childhood recollections that can drag me away from being called as an adult. I hated pink, I hated fluffy bears, flowers, hearts, what have you. I hankered for rebellion and disobedience. But the minute I found Cinderella’s old movie and re-watched it, I realized I was wrong. I am—forever—a little girl.

All tales of Cinderella is a mimic of my world—and most probably all girls’. Personally, it’s neither about stumbling upon prince charming nor ordained with the presence of fairy god mother. It’s about repossessing the bygones, taking hold of the second chance, finding the other glass slipper.

As mesmerizing as it is, Cinderella is still at the helm for the overwhelming impact of princess outbreak coloring the world with pink and baby blue. Apparently not all parents want their daughters to be called princess. Might sound cynical to segregate fairy tales from children but Peggy Orenstein has a point in her New York Times article, What’s Wrong With Cinderella.


And that’s exactly what I love about this particular book in the photographs. Matthew Reinhart doesn’t dwell on pinkish l’amour between Cinderella and prince charming (Cindy’s even portrayed as carrot-haired!), proving her story a corpus of rising above agony and prejudice with a twist of humor and a soupçon of liaison.

Reinhart meticulously constructed six spreads of Cinderella’s most renowned scenes. As I turn the pages, an outlandish and starry-eyed world transpires, gorging me with three-dimensional wonders. The glass slipper motion and character morphing literally stopped me from blinking for a minute. I’ve had Reinhart’s Cinderella since December 2010 and currently opening it for the 20th time. The reality is an ugly sight, thus each time I open the book—even without listening to Ilene Woods’s voice—I always find myself at peace while mumbling, “hmm hmm.. hmm hmm…..

#30hari30buku30lagu



PS: the photographs are mine. if you want to use them, feel free to email me beforehand :)

Notes:

  1. galihsakti reblogged this from lalitia
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