Bedtime reading redeemed

James Finn Garner: Politically Correct Bedtime Stories Souvenir Press, London

How awful that we once rode roughshod over the susceptibilities of so many groups by actually reading the stories of the Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Andersen to our children at bedtime. Now, according to author James Garner, “we have the opportunity and the obligation to rethink these 'classic' stories so that they reflect more enlightened times."

Thirteen of our favourite stories are retold in such a way that nobody is insulted or has their rights taken lightly.

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Best to let the writing speak for itself – with the text of the now politically corrected version of one of our best-known stories:

Little Red Riding Hood
There once was a young I person named Red Riding Hood who lived with her mother on the edge of a large wood. One day her mother asked her to take a basket of fresh fruit and mineral water to her grandmother's house – not because this was woman's work, mind you, but because the deed was generous and helped engender a feeling of community. Furthermore, her grandmother was not sick, but rather was in full physical and mental health and was fully capable of taking care of herself as a mature adult.

So Red Riding Hood set off with her basket through the woods. Many people believed that the forest was a foreboding and dangerous place and never set foot in it. Red Riding Hood, however, was confident enough in her own budding sexuality that such obvious Freudian imagery did not intimidate her.

On the way to Grandma's house, Red Riding Hood was accosted by a wolf who asked her what was in her basket. She replied, 'Some healthful snacks for my grandmother, who is certainly capable of taking care of herself as a mature adult.' The wolf said, 'You know, my dear, it isn't safe for a little girl to walk through these woods alone.' Red Riding Hood said, I find your sexist remark offensive in the extreme, but I will ignore it because of your traditional status as an outcast from society, the stress of which has caused you to develop your own, entirely valid, worldview. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be on my way.' Red Riding Hood walked on along the main path.

But, because his status outside society had freed him from slavish adherence to linear, Western-style thought, the wolf knew a quicker route to Grandma's house. He burst into the house and ate Grandma, an entirely valid course of action for a carnivore such as himself. Then, unhampered by rigid, traditionalist notions of what was masculine or feminine, he put on Grandma's nightclothes and crawled into bed.

Red Riding Hood entered the cottage and said, 'Grandma, I have brought you some fat-free, sodium-free snacks to salute you in your role of a wise and nurturing matriarch.' From the bed, the wolf said softly, 'Come closer, child, so that I might see you.'

Red Riding Hood said,'Oh, I forgot you are as optically challenged as a bat. Grandma, what big eyes you have!' 'They have seen much, and forgiven much, my dear.'

'Grandma, what a big nose you have – only relatively, of course, and certainly attractive in its own way.' 'It has smelled much, and forgiven much, my dear.'

'Grandma, what big teeth you have!'

The wolf said, 'I am happy with who I am and what I am,' and leaped out of bed. He grabbed Red Riding Hood in his claws, intent on devouring her. Red Riding Hood screamed, not out of alarm at the wolf's apparent tendency towards cross-dressing, but because of his wilful invasion of her personal space.

Her screams were heard by a passing woodcutter-person (or log-fuel technician, as he preferred to be called). When he burst into the cottage, he saw the melee and tried to intervene. But as he raised his axe, Red Riding Hood and the wolf both stopped.'And just what to you think you're doing!' asked Red Riding Hood.

The woodcutter-person blinked and tried to answer, but no words came to him. 'Bursting in here like a Neanderthal, trusting your weapon to do your thinking for you !' she exclaimed. 'Sexist! Speciesist! How dare you assume that women and wolves can't solve their own problems without a man's help!' When she heard Red Riding Hood's impassioned speech, Grandma jumped out of the wolf's mouth, seized the woodcutter-person's axe, and cut his head off.

After this ordeal, Red Riding Hood, Grandma and the wolf felt a certain commonality of purpose. They decided to set up an alternative household based on mutual respect and co-operation, and they lived together in the woods happily ever after.

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There you have it. The author almost committed the unmentionable indiscretion of calling the book Fairy Stories for a Modern World, and also had to leave out the story The duckling that was judged on its personal merits and not on its physical appearance – because the title was just too long. In his introduction he further hedges all his bets: “If, through omission or commission, I have inadvertently displayed any sexist, racist, culturalist, nationalist, regionalist, ageist, lookist, ableist, sizeist, specieist, intellectualist, socioeconomist, ethnocentrist, phallocentrist, heteropatriarchalist or other type of bias as yet unnamed, I apologise ... In the quest to develop meaningful literature that is totally free from bias and purged of the influences of its flawed cultural past, I doubtless have made some mistakes."

So, at the end of The Three Little Pigs, the author assures us: “The wolf in this story was a metaphorical construct. No actual wolves were harmed in the writing of the story.

The prince in Cinderella “was celebrating his exploitation of the dispossessed and marginalised peasantry by throwing a fancy-dress ball", and Snow White (her nickname was indicative of the discriminatory and colourist notions of associating pleasant and attractive qualities with light, and unpleasant or unattractive qualities with darkness) sought refuge with the seven vertically challenged male persons.

Adults will no doubt enjoy this book. But, whatever, do keep the originals for the kids!