As the overview of literature presented in Chapter 2 demonstrates, fairy-tale space has rarely been studied as a narrative element in its own right; rather, many have argued that, given the central importance of the protagonist to the fairy tale, “[o]bjects and nature never occur in the fairytale for their own sake” (Lüthi 1987[1975]: 14) but only in relation to the characters. In other words, narrative
88 Lefebvreʼs tripartite division of space encompasses spatial practice (physical and
material practices in society), representations of space (space as conceptualised by urbanists, scientists, planners, etc.), and spaces of representation (imagined, passively experienced space; 1991[1974]: 38–39) – the “perceived – conceived – lived triad” (ibid.: 40).
elements such as space only exist (and can subsequently only be studied) through their relationship to characters. While the presence of space depends on the characters, the characters themselves exist in isolation from their environment, with which they fail to create bonds (ibid.: 42–43). Their relationship can therefore be understood in terms of a container and its content, or a background and foreground: there is no real interaction between the two, as the former serves merely to frame and/or highlight the latter. For Lüthi, this lack of interaction is necessary because it allows the protagonists to easily detach themselves from their existing environment and “effortlessly [enter] into fruitful contact with distant worlds, with worlds above and below, with nature and with individual figures of our world” (ibid.: 138). Although he does not cite Lüthi as a source, Leeuwen (2007) reaches a similar conclusion regarding the lack of bonds and ease with which the protagonists can (and must) leave their environment. This research challenges such views on two accounts: first, it claims that space, while closely connected with characters, does not exclusively rely on them, and is instead also (re)created through relationships with objects, events, and other spaces; second, characters and space do engage in a bidirectional relationship, in which characters influence space and are, in turn, influenced by them.
Following the traditional character-centred view of space, one might be inclined to conclude that the non-magical or magical and other qualities of individual fairy- tale spaces derive exclusively from the qualities and actions of the characters that inhabit them. This is true to some extent: we know that the pond in “The Nixie in the Pond” is a dangerous magical space because the nixie lives there; similarly, the magical quality of the dark areas of large forests is indicated by the nature of its inhabitants (witches, giants, etc.). However, this is only part of the story, as the qualities of a given space can also be established independently from characters, for example, via its inherent physical properties, contents (objects), and positioning within the larger spatial network of the story (i.e. relationship to other spaces). The magical quality of a space can therefore be indicated through its distance and/or inaccessibility: it can be far away or hidden, so that human characters cannot find it without magical assistance (see Chapter 5); it might be underground (“The Three Feathers”; “The Gnome”, KHM 91, ATU 301), hidden within the depths of a large forest (“Hansel and Gretel”), or in a place that can only be reached with a magical object (“The Crystal Ball”), magical assistance (“The Golden Bird”, “The Glass Coffin”), or guidance (e.g. receiving instructions on how to get there in a dream in “The Nixie in the Pond”). Furthermore, as Chapter 5 argues, the magical quality of magical spaces is often indicated by their physical appearance and appellatives, such as the castle of the golden sun (“The Crystal Ball”) or the glass mountain (“The Drummer”, “The Raven”). Moreover, the presence of precious materials such as gold or silver, or diamonds (“The Worn-out Dancing Shoes”) and jewels (“The Lettuce
Donkey”), also bespeaks the magical qualities of certain spaces. Thus, the domains and the non-magical or magical spaces they encompass do not exist exclusively in relation to characters and events, nor do they exclusively derive their specific qualities from them. In that sense, it might be argued that they are not solely dependent on characters.
Chapter 5 discussed the role of characters as bearers of implicit space-related information, which is deduced primarily on the basis of their social status and position on the non-magical–magical divide. However, this relationship works both ways: in other words, not only can the traits of the characters reveal important information about the spaces they inhabit, but space can also tell us much about its inhabitants (Jong 2012a: 16). For instance, describing a forest (or parts of the forest) as dark signals that its inhabitants are likely to be nefarious and bent on harming the protagonist. In other words, the spaces characters occupy tell us something about them even before the characters themselves are introduced: for example, the extraordinary building material used to construct the forest cottage in “Hansel and Gretel” suggests that its occupant is no ordinary human being. Moreover, the inclusion or exclusion of characters from a given space can also serve to establish their identity: thus, as Meletinskij notes, the villain is often characterised as being “foreign”, i.e. belonging to a different space from the protagonist (Meletinskij et al. 1974[1971]: 120, n.19). Even the charactersʼ physical positioning within a given space may reveal something about them, with Cinderellaʼs place at the hearth, among the ashes, or All Furʼs tiny room beneath the stairs signalling their marginal position within their respective households, as well as their low social status as manual laborers.
As previous sections of this chapter argue, different types of actions demand different types of settings. Substituting the traditional character- and plot-centric view with a space-centric one, we can argue that individual spaces accommodate certain types of action while hindering or even rejecting others (Lotman 1977[1970]: 281). In other words, some things are more likely to happen in the castle or in the woods than others. It can be expected that the encounter between the magical and the non-magical will take place in the forest or a similar open, natural space such as the sea or wilderness, while the private bedroom is likely to be the setting for romantic encounters or the revelation of secrets.
Moreover, the argument that certain spaces welcome or are more susceptible to certain actions over others can be expanded even further to include characters as well; thus, different spaces also require different characters. In other words, not every character belongs to every space: on the more general and encompassing level of the domain, non-magical characters belong to the non-magical domain, while magical characters belong to the magical domain. In the case of human characters, their inclusion in a particular space typically depends on their social and material status:
simply put, kings belong in palaces, farmers in humble cottages. Furthermore, as the following discussion will demonstrate, changes in charactersʼ social status and identity89 in general typically create an incongruity between space and its denizen,
who is now symbolically out of place (Baak 1983: 93–94). This newly created incompatibility with their environment forces characters to leave the space they are currently occupying and move to a space that is more suitable to their new identity.