Paul and Thecla

"he was a man of middling size, and his hair was scanty, and his legs were a little crooked, and his knees were projecting, and he had large eyes and his eyebrows met, and his nose was somewhat long, and he was full of grace and mercy; at one time he seemed like a man, and at another time he seemed like an angel."

I find this painting of Paul extremely kind considering the description given above which makes him seem none to appealing and perhaps and little overly common. It would appear that, based on the extreme lack of one-eyebrowed paintings of Paul floating around the web, the church has greatly ignored the tale of Paul and Thecla. This is not entirely surprising to me, as Paul and Thecla are not listed in the King James-based apocrypha I have at home. Although it may have been listed in earlier versions, it seems that it was placed to the side rather early on.


 Professor Sexson requested that we contemplate the impact this work would have had if it were included with the cannonical Biblical texts. My reaction, based primarily in feminist-thought, is somewhat mixed. Thecla provides a strong female character of power. She is granted by God (or thus we would believe had this been included in the Bible) the authority to baptize herself - an act that is generally reserved for pastors, priests, or other men of God. She also shows the ability to restrain herself to extreme chastity with no apparent reservation or struggle. This attitude greatly complements Paul's own cry for chastity, and provides a its necessary female counterpart. It is also significant that, although men are present, they contribute little to the plot and are there only as stepping-stones for further female action. Paul repeatedly fails to make the expected "knight in shining armor" appearance and one is reminded more of the story of "A Pagan Hero and a Christian Saint" where the protagonist repeatedly fights his own battles with little to no direct assistance. It is also similar to other Biblical tales with female heros such as Ruth (recall the female at the male's feet) and Judith (not included in the cannon, but did make it into Catholic Apocrypha)


All things considered, I feel a great loss in the absence of Paul and Theca. I can't help but wonder if perhaps, this small romantic story might not have changed the course of history. After all, how the church argue against female pastors if God granted Thecla the authority to baptize herself. How could women be powerless when Thecla faught off an over-sexed scum-bag without the help of Paul? How could women be made for the kitchen when Thecla leaves the home to serve God? One cannot help but dream a new history into being. But then again, it is only a story. Could one small romance really change the course of history? 


I think all stories have the potential to change history if we allow them to. It is the credence we give to a story that defines the boundaries of its power. 

My Displaced Fairy Tale

Here is my displaced fairy tale. Most likely, you were all in class when I read it so you know its derivation, but I won't list it until the bottom in case you don't know the answer. 

Police officers rescued thirty-six year old Lisa Jones and her 10-year-old niece Sarah from home of their abductor, John Gray. The two women were found in a window-less basement beneath a suburban home. One of Sarah’s teachers had reported seeing Gray watching for Sarah outside the school and following her home intermittently for several weeks previously. Sarah had had several conversations with Gray on her way home from school. On some occasions she would even see him during soccer games and picnics on weekends. Sarah’s father had been undergoing cancer treatment so Sarah had been staying with her aunt during the nights immediately following his chemo treatment. One evening, Gray visited Lisa’s home and requested that he be allowed to bring Sarah with him to a production of Madame Butterfly. Lisa, having seen Gray follow Sarah around before, was greatly upset by Gray’s request and threatened to take out a restraining order. In response, Gray began to brutally beat Lisa. The wounds of this assault proved life-threatening by the time the police found her the next day. Gray, in the belief that Lisa was practically dead, stowed her body in a suitcase, wiped the house clean, rented a moving van, and returned to the Jones’ house. He then waited for Sarah to return home. When she arrived, he was waiting outside the house with the living room couch sitting on the lawn. He then told Sarah that his aunt had recently purchased a new couch and had gifted him her old one. He told her that Lisa was inside on the phone, and then asked that Sarah help him put it in the truck. She readily agreed, and once she had climbed in the truck to help with the couch. Once she was securely in the truck and the couch was placed inside, Gray slammed the doors closed and locked her in the truck. He then drove to his home and snuck a traumatized Sarah into his basement along with her unconscious aunt. The two females remained in the dark basement until a nosey neighbor, hearing Sarah’s muffled cries, called police who then broke into the home and rescued Sarah and her aunt. Sarah and her aunt are suspected of having later bribed one of the prison guards into sneaking a poisoned BigMac into Gray’s cell, resulting in his immediate death. The case is still awaiting trial. 

This is the story of Little Red Riding Hood as written by the Brothers Grimm. I chose to omit option ending portions of the story that are essentially tagged on sequels. Below I have listed the original Little Red Riding Hood so that you can compare the two versions and see where the threads of my story come from. (The part with the couch was really just for fun on my part. It doesn't directly correlate to the fairy tale, but it was required for the story to work.) I also omitted the ending moral as I side with the view that morals are superfluous to romances. 

Little Red Riding Hood:

Once upon a time there was a dear little girl who was loved by everyone 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 riding hood of red velvet, which suited her so well that she would never wear anything else; so she was always called 'Little Red Riding Hood.'

     One day her mother said to her: 'Come, Little Red Riding Hood, 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 Riding Hood 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 Riding Hood entered the wood, a wolf met her. Red Riding Hood did not know what a wicked creature he was, and was not at all afraid of him.

     'Good day, Little Red Riding Hood,' said he.

     'Thank you kindly, wolf.'

     'Whither away so early, Little Red Riding Hood?'

     '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 Riding Hood?'

     '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 Riding Hood.

     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 Riding Hood, and then he said: 'See, Little Red Riding Hood, 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 Riding Hood 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.'

     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 Riding Hood,' 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 sprang 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 Riding Hood, 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 today, 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!'

     'All the better to hear you with, my child,' was the reply.

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

     'All the better to see you with, my dear.'

     'But, grandmother, what large hands you have!'

     'All the better to hug you with.'

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

     'All 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 Riding Hood.

     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 you here, you old sinner!' said he. 'I have long sought you!' But 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 riding hood 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.'

     After that the aged grandmother came out alive also, but scarcely able to breathe. Red Riding Hood, however, quickly fetched great stones with which they filled the wolf's belly, and when he awoke, he wanted to run away, but the stones were so heavy that he collapsed 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 Riding Hood had brought, and revived. But Red Riding Hood thought to herself: 'As long as I live, I will never leave the path by myself to run into the wood, when my mother has forbidden me to do so.'