Stories are told to us, often by family members, as part of a bedtime ritual or a festive ritual.
Family would tell you "Fairy" stories, the space where literature overlaps with ritual, with sociology, and even psychology. A part of becoming an adult, a rite of passage. Children often pretend not to be able to read, so that these moments where a beloved reads us or recounts to us a story, so nurturing they are.
One other way then is to retell them, with a modern twist, and this has been done by many writers over time. "The Three little pixies" become "Three little pig" and even before these got changed, oral tradition means that many Fairy stories have several versions ( Little Red Riding Hood with its many variations) which date back to, well the beginning of humanity probably. My research led to me discovering that this story is found in many cultures and has an almost universal scope. And indeed Roald Dahl wrote a whole book on them "Revolting Rymes" (The small girl smiles/Her eyelid flickers/She whips a pistol from her knickers/She aims it at the creature's head and BANG! BANG! BANG! she shoots him ... dead.)
The Cinderella problem is a writing prompt and looks like this:
Cinderalla is married to the prince but she isn't happy, as the Prince, for whatever reason, spends his time hunting, and is never with Cinderella.
So she takes a lover. One night, she awakes in her lover's arms, and realizes she has to rush off , back to the castle before the Prince gets home and finds out!
She leaves her lover and heads to the bridge to cross the river, to get home. But the bridge has a dangerous man, the crazy village fool, who lives on it, living from the scraps and leftovers from the stalls.
So she heads to a barge, hoping to catch the last barge back across the river. Alas, in her hurry, she has rushed off , forgetting her purse at the palace. However she rushes back to her lover's house and begs him to lend her some coins for the boat man. The lover, for whatever reason, refuses and sends her on her way. She heads back to the boatman, and begs him to have pity, but, for whatever reason he also refuses. And so she faces the fool, on the bridge, who chases after her, and kills her.
And so the task is to write the story from different viewpoints:
The ferryboat man
The Prince
The Lover
The Fool
Cinderella
In French:
Cendrillon, cette pauvre peste,
A décidé de tourner sa veste.
Car après une nuit bien chaude et torride,
Elle a décidé de retrouver son mari, horride.
Ce brute qui prend tout ce qui bouge,
Son travail devrait être trop rude.
Et malgré mes caresses en douceur,
Cendrillon n'a pas de pudeur.
Elle ose partir, pour m'échapper,
Traverse la fleuve lorsque je la pleure.
Mais subitement, elle est revenue,
Pour me demander l'amour ? Non, mais les sous !
Comme elle est chiante, cette p'tite garce,
J'ai dit non, et bon débarras.
Elle fonce au ferry, pas de chance,
Le monsieur manque d'élégance.
Elle finit sur le pont du fou,
Et moi, c'est vrai, mais je m'en fous.
Car le Fou a cassé son joli cou,
Et aux girouettes, je dis "Adieu".
English
I am Cinderella's lover
Cinderella, that mischievous pest,
Decided to switch, to change her quest.
After a night both heated and wild,
She chose to return, though somewhat riled.
Her brute of a husband, taking all in stride,
His work, perhaps, too grueling a ride.
Despite my gentle, tender caress,
Cinderella's modesty in distress.
She dares to flee, to break away,
Crossing the river while I dismay.
But lo and behold, she comes back around,
Seeking affection? No, just cash to be found.
Oh, how she vexes, this troublesome sprite,
I bade her farewell, with all my might.
She dashed to the ferry, but fate was unkind,
The captain's grace, she couldn't find.
She ended up on the madman's span,
And me? Indifferent, as best I can.
For the Fool snapped her delicate neck,
And to weathercocks, what the heck!
Cendrillon
Mon mari est très gentil,
Mais les femmes, ce n'est pas pour lui.
Hélas, je suis une femme,
Et pour répondre au grand dilemme,
J'ai pris un amant, mais il est nul.
Alors, j'ai décidé de traverser la foule
Et de prendre la barque, mais pas de sous.
Donc, le pont, avec le fou.
Lui, il bavait sur mon cou,
Et puis, il me brisa, espèce de loup.
Je suis morte, et il se saoule.
Le marin avec la barque
Cendrillon, quelle princesse !
Vint me voir en détresse.
Elle voulait partir vers l'autre rive,
Mais pas un sou, cette pauvre esquive.
Et moi, j'arrête de penser avec ma verge.
Alors, j'ai dit non, pas de charité.
Et elle partit vers l'amant, quelle hilarité !
Car il refusa de lui prêter un sou,
Et elle se dirigea vers le pont du fou.
Avec un bruit sec, il lui brisa le cou.
Le Prince
Au début, c'était un conte de fées,
Une pantoufle en verre, cherchant tout le pays.
J'ai trouvé ma princesse, tellement belle,
Tout le royaume était fou d'elle.
Sauf moi, car je préfère les hommes.
Mais la famille a posé son ultimatum.
Alors, j'ai pris la pauvre Cendrillon,
Et j'ai chassé les mecs en secret.
Il fallait être inventif, discret.
Sauf que Cendrillon n'était pas trop cool,
Et toute la ville savait ses magouilles.
Avec son amant, quelle andouille !
Alors, j'ai dit au fou du pont
Qu'il prenne cette fille de honte.
Et puis, c'était carte blanche.
Il lui cassa le cou comme une vieille branche.
Et je suis libre, enfin d'elle.
Faisant la fête, une fête mortelle.
Je danserai jusqu'à l'aube,
Et le reste, c'est bien trop chaud !
Cinderella
My husband is gentle, kind, and sweet,
But with women, he doesn't compete.
Alas, I'm a woman, caught in this bind,
So to ease my heart and free my mind,
I took a lover, but what a bore,
So I ventured out, seeking more.
I found a boatman, but alas, no pay,
So I turned to the madman on the quay.
He drooled upon my neck with glee,
Then snapped it—oh, what a sight to see!
Now I'm dead, and he's drunk as can be!
The Boatman
Cinderella, what a distressing sight,
Came to me in the dead of night.
She wished to cross to the other shore,
But had no coin; her pockets were poor.
I told her, "No charity here,"
So she went to her lover, shedding a tear.
He too refused to lend a dime,
So she sought the madman one last time.
With a crack, he ended her plight,
Now I can sleep soundly tonight.
The Prince
At first, it was a fairy tale dream,
A glass slipper, fitting like cream.
I found my princess, fair and bright,
The whole kingdom was filled with delight.
But not for me, for I preferred men,
Yet family insisted, again and again.
So I wed poor Cinderella, alas,
While secretly chasing after the lads.
She wasn't cool; the town knew her game,
With her lover, she brought me shame.
So I sent her to the madman's den,
He broke her neck; I'm free again.
Now I can dance and sing and play,
Reveling in my newfound day.