New Post: Underground Feminism and the "Disney Renaissance"

Underground Feminism and the "Disney Renaissance"

Hello Blog Universe,

I apologize for the two week delay in updating. I reached a mid-semester grading peak and seemingly had time for nothing else. I will try my best to make sure it never happens again. Since my last update, I have decided to change my posting format. While I like the organization of the topic based pages, I have decided to put all posts on the main blog page. I will continue to post on the pages, but the topic pages will be used for archival purposes. This will allow anyone that is new to the blog find readings based on areas of interest, but also allow regular readers to receive updates about postings and make comments.

This week’s blog posting is inspired by various conversations I had with fellow classmates in my Gender Theory course some years ago. We often discussed Disney films (ills and benefits). I know Disney princess films are generally disliked by the feminist community, and while I understand the feeling of contempt, I would like to explore how the representations of women in Disney films shift according to audience and politics of the time.

While many Disney films before the nineties are overtly sexist in nature (such as Sleeping Beauty and Snow White), a notable shift in the representation of women begins to occur in the late 1980’s. On the cusp of the girl power movement, Disney begins what some film producers and animators refer to as the “Disney Renaissance.” While this term is meant to merely show the string of successes with their films, I would like to consider how the films in this era produce images of underground feminism for young audiences. Influenced by third-wave feminist politics, these films challenge some of the same stereotypes and social norms that older Disney films perpetuate. In the next couple of weeks, I will write several postings on this topic focusing primarily on The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, and Mulan.

According to the documentary Treasures Untold, the Little Mermaid was the film to begin this age that spanned from 1989 to 1998. I myself was skeptical of Disney despite growing up watching many of the “renaissance” films. It wasn’t until a paper I wrote for the same gender theory course that I changed my mind. I explored adaptations of the mermaid tale only to discover that Disney’s version is the closest to a feminist retelling of tale in mainstream popular culture. An energetic non-conformist, the Little Mermaid has all the makings of a feminist. However, consistently Little Mermaid transforms into a subservient silent bride preferring the confines of domesticity. While various improvements have surfaced since Han Christian Anderson’s original version, none have empowered Ariel as much the Walt Disney film version. Believing that this could not be that case, I sought out alternative versions of the Little Mermaid and found Barbara Walker’s Feminist Fairy Tales. Yet, when reading Walker’s version, I found that the major misogynistic elements from Anderson’s tale prevailed.

Walker’s “littlest mermaid” begins the same way the others do, with an empowered and autonomous protagonist. The nameless mermaid begins as an eco-activist that uses coral to “cut open the nests to release the dolphins, turtles, and fish” (179) trapped in anglers’ nets. She plays outside with other species, rejecting the domestic activities of “pearl-stringing and coral carving” (179). Despite her love for activism, the littlest mermaid forgets her independent ways to pursue the “richly dressed” (180) human with the “handsomest face” (180). Walker replicates the marriage plot by creating a heroine that leaves her feminism behind in the pursuit of heteronormative domestic felicity. In fact, the unnamed princess undergoes “magical operations” (181) to fit the ideal human shape for her future husband.

This transformation, like the original tale, is so painful for the princess that she can barely walk. Despite all of the littlest mermaid’s sacrifices (plastic surgery, continual pain, leaving her family/friends, and ending her activism) the prince still initially rejects her for another woman. Instead of returning to her joyful former life, the nameless mermaid stays waiting for the prince’s love. The prince, aware that she has no intention of leaving, invokes his power of deception over the now silent and nameless littlest mermaid by lying to her and arranging a fake marriage. Only when rejected by his other fiancé does the prince truly marry the littlest mermaid and help heal her pain. The prince, unlike the mermaid, never makes any sacrifices for their love and never tells her the truth about their marriage. Walker maintains the misogynistic undertones of the “self-scarifying” (Borges 2) woman serving the patriarch as in the original tale. Walker also renders her heroine nameless and makes her choose between activism and domesticity while simultaneously forcing her to fit human beauty ideals for the sake of happiness.

Walker’s “feminist” retelling of the classical fairy tale only further pushes the Little Mermaid into a subordinate state in which happiness is dependent on heteronormative ideals. As of now, Disney’s adventurous Ariel is the closest we have to a feminist Little Mermaid. In the end, Ariel does not have to sacrifice her family or empowering voice for the love of a man. Ariel and Prince Eric are both willing to make sacrifices for their relationship, and Eric never lies or mistreats Ariel. Their marriage unites the earth and sea kingdoms for a sense of world peace and their “mixed” union enables an acceptance of the other. It is also important to note that Ariel, unlike the other versions of the love struck mermaid, has an interest in the human world before she even meets Eric. Ariel acts like an archeologist, collecting artifacts dispersed in the ocean so she can better understand the human world. In the lyrics of “Part of Your World,” Ariel describes how her collection of material objects means little to her in comparison to her aspirations of experiences another culture, “I've got gadgets and gizmos aplenty/I've got whozits and whatzits galore/You want thingamabobs? I got twenty/But who cares?/No big deal/I want more/I wanna be where the people are/I wanna see/Wanna see em dancing” (1989 film). As a result, while Eric seemingly precipitates her decision to go to Ursula, Ariel has a non-romantic personal interest in becoming human. Ariel persistently chooses her own path, whether it is her dream of exploring other cultures or her refusal to fit the social norms set by her father (singing with her sisters and marrying a merman). It is this animated film that first shows underground feminist themes in this film industry after decades of weak “damsels in distress” heroines. While feminist language is not present, Ariel’s adventurous personality, her rejection of restricting social norms, and her attempts to break down the stereotypes merpeople have of others shows the influence of feminism on this film industry. For my next posting, I will explore underground feminism in Disney’s retelling of Beauty and the Beast.