We all know the beloved story of Hansel and Gretel. But do we ever consider that there might be other perspectives to the story? One fascinating perspective which has been played out in many contemporary versions of the Hansel and Gretel story is that of the Wicked Witch. Many of us blindly accept the stereotype that she is the epitome of pure and quintessential evil to be to be destroyed at all costs. However, there are some modern versions of the Wicked Witch which give an alternative perpective on her predicament. One of my favorites is a poem by Mibre Burch entitled "After Push Comes to Shove". In this poem, the Witch provides an internal monologue which picks up from the original's storyline just after she is thrust into the oven by Gretel. This clever poem makes one think twice about the so-called
"happy ending" of the tale. In it, the witch is somewhat humanized, not exactly likeable, but at least better understood. We are forced to empathize with her horrific predicament as we hear her thought processes while she literally burns to death. In the end, presumably just before she dies, the story comes full circle: The Wicked Witch, like Hansel and Gretel at the beginning of our beloved original tale,
becomes, in essence, "a child alone in the woods."
AFTER PUSH COMES TO SHOVE
By Milbre Burch
I am curled in a fetal position
In the darkness and the heat,
Surrounded on all sides by my red-hot tomb.
My limbs tied
In a careless knot of falling inward,
Sacrificed because my own naivete
Outweighed that of a little girl.
My hair frizzles in a flash,
My eyes melt, my tongue bakes,
My flesh splits and oozes,
My grease spatters the sides of the oven.
In a way, it is a relief;
A diet of children is very rich
Both in calories and karma.
And now, by their actions,
They have become what I once was.
She tricked me, the little hussy,
Egged on by my poor eyesight and bad judgment.
Pretending to passivity no more,
She’s saved that worthless brother of hers,
All meat and ill-begun ideas.
They’ll take my treasure
The same way they gnawed my house
As if it were their due.
They’ll share their ill-gotten gains
With their foolish father.
He, meanwhile, for sentimental reasons
Will have discarded the clever second wife.
He no longer needs her thrift;
His future’s certain now.
They’ll, all of them, grow soft and mean.
The father putting aside his trade as a woodcutter
And going to brothels till
His advancing age and worthlessness
Cause his beloved children
To rid themselves of him.
If there’s any justice in the cosmos,
They’ll desert the old man
In the woods on a winter’s night.
He will have long since forgotten the way
And freeze to death before hunger gets him
Hansel and Grethel will fight
Over the inheritance, and end
By poisoning one another
With a glass of lemonade
And a dish of gingerbread.
I take some comfort in this
As my organs become ash and
I am burned away to what’s at my core:
A child alone in the woods.
(Thank you to Milbre Burch for permission to include the poem in this post!)
The image at the top can be found here: http://www.ozbalaban.com/image.php?resim=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3371/3234880541_79bfc92d79.jpg&title=hansel gretel oven: images
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