While I believe many of us are familiar with the story of Little Red Riding Hood, I would daresay few are aware of her gruesome history. Little Red, in her glorious nymphet naivety has been brutalised with rape, misogyny, sexualisation, forced cannibalism (yes, you read that correctly) and death since her creation. It is here I would like to place a trigger warning for further reading, as I will touch on some of these themes in discussion…

Grimm vs. Perrault

I’m sure you are also aware of a few different versions of our Little Red. Such as the one where Little Red Riding Hood gets swallowed whole in the end…or maybe you know the one where the huntsman comes in and saves both her and grandmother by hacking open the sleeping wolfs stomach… OR maybe even the one where the wolf comes down the chimney and is either drowned or boiled alive by the cauldron of sausages below. Regardless of which one best describes your childhood, in typical ‘original-fairy-tale-fashion’ none of them are particularly pleasant.

While the Grimm brothers take the credit for ‘Little Red Riding Hood’, the forefather of this tale is typically awarded to French writer Charles Perrault, who wrote the earliest printed version of the tale, named Le Petit Chaperon Rouge. Like many literary fairy tales, Little Red Riding Hood is derived from peasant folklore and forgotten women writers. Originally part of an oral tradition, there are of course various versions of this Tale that can be traced all over the world; such as ‘La Finta Nonna’ or ‘The False Grandmother” in Italy, and ‘The Grandmother’ from French origins (please see the following link if you’re interested to read more, this is a good place to start).

Though for the purpose of this blog, I am choosing to only focus on the history of two of the more popular (albeit, white and Western) versions by Charles Perrault, and the Brother’s Grimm.

“Le Petite Chaperon Rouge”

Once upon a time there lived in a certain village a little country girl, the prettiest creature who was ever seen. Her mother was excessively fond of her; and her grandmother doted on her still more. This good woman had a little red riding hood made for her. It suited the girl so extremely well that everybody called her Little Red Riding Hood.

One day her mother, having made some cakes, said to her, “Go, my dear, and see how your grandmother is doing, for I hear she has been very ill. Take her a cake, and this little pot of butter.”

Little Red Riding Hood set out immediately to go to her grandmother, who lived in another village.

As she was going through the wood, she met with a wolf, who had a very great mind to eat her up, but he dared not, because of some woodcutters working nearby in the forest. He asked her where she was going. The poor child, who did not know that it was dangerous to stay and talk to a wolf, said to him, “I am going to see my grandmother and carry her a cake and a little pot of butter from my mother.”

“Does she live far off?” said the wolf

“Oh I say,” answered Little Red Riding Hood; “it is beyond that mill you see there, at the first house in the village.”

“Well,” said the wolf, “and I’ll go and see her too. I’ll go this way and go you that, and we shall see who will be there first.”

The wolf ran as fast as he could, taking the shortest path, and the little girl took a roundabout way, entertaining herself by gathering nuts, running after butterflies, and gathering bouquets of little flowers. It was not long before the wolf arrived at the old woman’s house. He knocked at the door: tap, tap.

“Who’s there?”

“Your grandchild, Little Red Riding Hood,” replied the wolf, counterfeiting her voice; “who has brought you a cake and a little pot of butter sent you by mother.”

The good grandmother, who was in bed, because she was somewhat ill, cried out, “Pull the bobbin, and the latch will go up.”

The wolf pulled the bobbin, and the door opened, and then he immediately fell upon the good woman and ate her up in a moment, for it been more than three days since he had eaten. He then shut the door and got into the grandmother’s bed, expecting Little Red Riding Hood, who came some time afterwards and knocked at the door: tap, tap.

“Who’s there?”

Little Red Riding Hood, hearing the big voice of the wolf, was at first afraid; but believing her grandmother had a cold and was hoarse, answered, “It is your grandchild Little Red Riding Hood, who has brought you a cake and a little pot of butter mother sends you.”

The wolf cried out to her, softening his voice as much as he could, “Pull the bobbin, and the latch will go up.”

Little Red Riding Hood pulled the bobbin, and the door opened.

The wolf, seeing her come in, said to her, hiding himself under the bedclothes, “Put the cake and the little pot of butter upon the stool, and come get into bed with me.”

Little Red Riding Hood took off her clothes and got into bed. She was greatly amazed to see how her grandmother looked in her nightclothes, and said to her, “Grandmother, what big arms you have!”

“All the better to hug you with, my dear.”

“Grandmother, what big legs you have!”

“All the better to run with, my child.”

“Grandmother, what big ears you have!”

“All the better to hear with, my child.”

“Grandmother, what big eyes you have!”

“All the better to see with, my child.”

“Grandmother, what big teeth you have got!”

“All the better to eat you up with.”

And, saying these words, this wicked wolf fell upon Little Red Riding Hood, and ate her all up.

(Perrault: 1697)

Before we compare this tale to that of the Brother’s Grimm, I would like to quickly note some of the phrases I have bold/underlined. First and foremost, lets address the name ‘little red riding hood.’ Up until Perrault’s version, there was no mention of the little girl wearing a red hood, meaning that he was the first to introduce this bit of characterisation. But why? We only learn that she was so fond of the hood her grandmother made her, that they began to call her little red riding hood. But why would her grandmother make her a riding hood, when she clearly does not ride horses? In the story, we see that she walks to grandmother’s house, and there is no mention otherwise that she even rides outside of the story. Perhaps it would have made more sense to call it a cloak, robe or cape. Maybe I’m reaching, but I cannot help wondering if there is a sexual innuendo here, particularly if you pair it with Perrault’s “moral” at the end of the story (I will show you shortly).

If we go a little bit further and analyse some of the symbolism behind the colour red, we find that it often presents wealth (“well-bred”, noble, rich), promiscuity (sexually vibrant), violence, blood and puberty (first bleeding and also the breaking of the hymen). Perhaps red capes were just the fashion of the time, or maybe their is more symbolic meaning to grasp. I’ll let you look into this one more if you wish.

Perrault also makes it a point to highlight Little Red’s naivety and ignorance by showing how trusting and easily deceived she is. She takes the ’roundabout’ way to her grandmothers, interacts with the wolf not understanding that she should not trust strangers, no matter how kind and gentle they seem. When the wolf, disguised as grandmother instructs her to come into bed with them, Little Red obliges with little questioning or consideration of the request. Even upon realising how strange ‘grandmothers’ features are, there is no alarm behind her questioning, but a cat-and-mouse game of sexual tension before the wolf ‘falls upon her’ and ‘eats her up’. Otherwise, an implication for rape. Perrault casts Little Red as a sexual figure who teases the wolf’s primitive sexual urges with her promiscuity and ‘feigned’ innocence. A CHILD. A GIRL. I think it is time to hear the moral Perrault set out for this Tale as summarised by Jack Zipes…

One sees here that young children, especially young girls 
Pretty, well brought-up, and gentle, 
Should never listen to anyone who happens by, 
And if this occurs, it is not so strange
When the wolf should eat them

(Zipes, 1993: 93)

Like what in the fuck… if you were sceptical before, I hope that this has convinced you now. Perrault was trying to sexualise this little girl, and then BLAME her for her own violation. As best said by Elizabeth Marshall (2004), “[about the girl climbing into bed naked and the wolf eating her] Here, modes of behaviour suggest that the girl is responsible for her violation and that to avoid physical harm (in this case rape and murder) a young girl must dodge the advances of suave wolves (men)” (263), that “it could be argued that Little Red’s feminine body invited the sexual advances of the wolf” (263).

Instead of warning children about sexual predators and stranger danger, (blaming the rapists for raping), children (girls) are taught that it is their own fault if they entice the ‘wolf’ because it is simply in (his/her/their) nature. But how could you blame a child for this disgusting violation against them? Even in the case that the child attempts to sexualise themselves, we must ask WHY. Most likely it is because Humbert the wolf is grooming the little red Lolita into thinking this is normal and desirable (I am referencing Nabovok’s Lolita here. It is a classic and while I must put a trigger warning on it now as its themes are disturbing, Nabokov is sadly an EXCELLENT writer and you should check it out).

“Little Red Cap”- Grimm’s

Once upon a time there was a dear little girl who was loved by every one who looked at her, but most of all by her grandmother, and there was nothing that she would not have given to the child. Once she gave her a little cap of red velvet, which suited her so well that she would never wear anything else; so she was always called ‘Little Red-Cap.’

One day her mother said to her, “Come, Little Red-Cap, here is a piece of cake and a bottle of wine; take them to your grandmother, she is ill and weak, and they will do her good. Set out before it gets hot, and when you are going, walk nicely and quietly and do not run off the path, or you may fall and break the bottle, and then your grandmother will get nothing; and when you go into her room, don’t forget to say, ‘Good-morning,’ and don’t peep into every corner before you do it.”

“I will take great care,” said Little Red-Cap to her mother, and gave her hand on it.

The grandmother lived out in the wood, half a league from the village, and just as Little Red-Cap entered the wood, a wolf met her. Red-Cap did not know what a wicked creature he was, and was not at all afraid of him.

“Good-day, Little Red-Cap,” said he.

“Thank you kindly, wolf.”

“Whither away so early, Little Red-Cap?”

“To my grandmother’s.”

“What have you got in your apron?”

“Cake and wine; yesterday was baking-day, so poor sick grandmother is to have something good, to make her stronger.”

“Where does your grandmother live, Little Red-Cap?”

“A good quarter of a league farther on in the wood; her house stands under the three large oak-trees, the nut-trees are just below; you surely must know it,” replied Little Red-Cap.

The wolf thought to himself, “What a tender young creature! what a nice plump mouthful she will be better to eat than the old woman. I must act craftily, so as to catch both.” So he walked for a short time by the side of Little Red-Cap, and then he said, “See, Little Red-Cap, how pretty the flowers are about here why do you not look round? I believe, too, that you do not hear how sweetly the little birds are singing; you walk gravely along as if you were going to school, while everything else out here in the wood is merry.”

Little Red-Cap raised her eyes, and when she saw the sunbeams dancing here and there through the trees, and pretty flowers growing everywhere, she thought, “Suppose I take grandmother a fresh nosegay; that would please her too. It is so early in the day that I shall still get there in good time;” and so she ran from the path into the wood to look for flowers. And whenever she had picked one, she fancied that she saw a still prettier one farther on, and ran after it, and so got deeper and deeper into the wood.

Meanwhile the wolf ran straight to the grandmother’s house and knocked at the door.

“Who is there?”

“Little Red-Cap,” replied the wolf. “She is bringing cake and wine; open the door.”

“Lift the latch,” called out the grandmother, “I am too weak, and cannot get up.”

The wolf lifted the latch, the door flew open, and without saying a word he went straight to the grandmother’s bed, and devoured her. Then he put on her clothes, dressed himself in her cap, laid himself in bed and drew the curtains.

Little Red-Cap, however, had been running about picking flowers, and when she had gathered so many that she could carry no more, she remembered her grandmother, and set out on the way to her.

She was surprised to find the cottage-door standing open, and when she went into the room, she had such a strange feeling that she said to herself, “Oh dear! how uneasy I feel to-day, and at other times I like being with grandmother so much.” She called out, “Good morning,” but received no answer; so she went to the bed and drew back the curtains. There lay her grandmother with her cap pulled far over her face, and looking very strange.

“Oh! grandmother,” she said, “what big ears you have!”

“The better to hear you with, my child,” was the reply.

“But, grandmother, what big eyes you have!” she said.

“The better to see you with, my dear.”

“But, grandmother, what large hands you have!”

“The better to hug you with.”

“Oh! but, grandmother, what a terrible big mouth you have!”

“The better to eat you with!”

And scarcely had the wolf said this, than with one bound he was out of bed and swallowed up Red-Cap.

When the wolf had appeased his appetite, he lay down again in the bed, fell asleep and began to snore very loud. The huntsman was just passing the house, and thought to himself, “How the old woman is snoring! I must just see if she wants anything.” So he went into the room, and when he came to the bed, he saw that the wolf was lying in it. “Do I find thee here, thou old sinner!” said he. “I have long sought thee!”

Then just as he was going to fire at him, it occurred to him that the wolf might have devoured the grandmother, and that she might still be saved, so he did not fire, but took a pair of scissors, and began to cut open the stomach of the sleeping wolf. When he had made two snips, he saw the little Red-Cap shining, and then he made two snips more, and the little girl sprang out, crying, “Ah, how frightened I have been! How dark it was inside the wolf;” and after that the aged grandmother came out alive also, but scarcely able to breathe.

Red-Cap, however, quickly fetched great stones with which they filled the wolf’s body, and when he awoke, he wanted to run away, but the stones were so heavy that he fell down at once, and fell dead.

Then all three were delighted. The huntsman drew off the wolf’s skin and went home with it; the grandmother ate the cake and drank the wine which Red-Cap had brought, and revived, but Red-Cap thought to herself, “As long as I live, I will never by myself leave the path, to run into the wood, when my mother has forbidden me to do so.”

(Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Household Tales, trans. Margaret Hunt: 1884)

As we can see, the Brother’s Grimm offered a more sanitised version of this Tale, by revising the sexualisations and re-positioning the moral of the Tale to be that; good and obedient children who obey their mother’s and do not stray from the path, should not find themselves in dangerous situations, and that one can count on a strong man to save the day. Though I am immensely glad this version of the Tale has traversed the children’s literature canon rather than Perrault’s, I am still apprehensive of the other messages this Tale sends.

‘My foremost concern is how fairy tales operate ideologically to indoctrinate children so that they will conform to dominant social standards that are not necessarily established in their behalf.’

(Zipes, 2012: 33)

Again, I have underlined/bolded some phrases within the story. However, I will not be unpacking them in this post any further. For now I’ll just throw this into the void and let it sit with you here. But you might like to consider how physical violence is presented to be more palatable in this story, or the slight changes in what Little Red was carrying or wearing… and even the social and gender norms presented, what is or isn’t ‘proper’ or ‘lady-like.’ If you have made it this far, thank you for reading, there is sooo much more to say, but perhaps for another day 🙂

I would love to hear any other interpretations as well! So please feel free to comment if you’d like, or otherwise reach out to me through my Instagram Page: thatgirl_books

Happy Reading Nerds ❤