The King’s Son: Sent to Awaken
Just as a king’s son must awake our Sleeping Beauty from her sleeping-death, so too the King’s Son was sent to awaken us, His Sleeping Beloved, from our living deaths…
Just as a king’s son must awake our Sleeping Beauty from her sleeping-death, so too the King’s Son was sent to awaken us, His Sleeping Beloved, from our living deaths…
This is the first major rendition to promise a Hope in countering the curse, and this profoundly impacts how we read the story.[2] There is expectation and anticipation now: a king’s son will come! He will awaken the Sleeping Beloved…
Our next Sleeping Beloved shows up in France only 50 years after Basile’s story. Although some scholars point to Basile’s “Sun, Moon, and Talia” as the inspiration (which is certainly possible),[1] it’s also possible that it came from a variant called “Sun, Pearl, and Anna,” which cleans up the story a great deal (i.e. the prince takes the spindle out of Anna’s hand, she awakes, then they have children who are almost killed by Anna’s mother-in-law, the evil queen).[2]
Anyway, part of a compilation of eight short stories, The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood was written by Charles Perrault in 1697 for King Louis XIV’s niece.[3] It is one of my favorite versions. Hands down, I will read it to my children. It has beautiful imagery (the good fairy has a chariot pulled by dragons!), and has all the delightful qualities of a “fairy tale”…
The end is as satisfying as one of our own fairy tales. The “rebellious” queen and her minion are certainly living in a “scorched land.” Talia – a “prisoner” of the queen and once “deserted” to her sleeping death – is now “provided” for and is given “prosperity.”
And all because our Sleeping Beloved heeded the call of love…
The queen is in a loveless marriage. She is childless. In the eyes of the world, her position is shaky and her worth is of little value.
The queen is a Sleeping Beloved, too. Her heart has been asleep for far longer than Talia ever was. Her soul is in pain, her wounds are deep.
And then, she sees these beautiful children – the other woman’s children. The queen is faced with her “failure” and her emptiness…and something in her snaps…
As I discussed last time, Talia speaks for the high-born women of the past. Historically, a noblewoman’s worth was based on her ability to produce children, especially sons. When a woman bore a healthy son, she secured her position and power. (This is the world’s view, not God’s!)
It is no accident, then, that the king comes back to Talia and develops a “strong bond” after she has the children (named Sun and Moon). Talia and the king are not in love, but the birth of their children gives them both what they desire: the king has a son, and Talia’s position is secure…
Another king has taken control of Talia’s territory (a residual memory of the shifting political situation in Naples from the 1400s-1500s[2]). We could certainly discuss the survivor motif once more (see my previous posts here and here); but I don’t think that’s quite the lesson we’re meant to learn from our Talia.
Throughout much of history, high-born women were given in marriage to secure political alliances. These women were marrying strangers, a frightening concept in any era. They had no guarantee of respect from their future husbands, let alone love. Now, people are people, and I’m sure love blossomed in some of these situations…but there was no guarantee of it…
Father is probably the first attribute we learn to associate with God, as it’s an easy concept for children to understand. Granted, even the best of fathers can’t give as much love as God; but it’s such a tender picture of His love for us.
Talia’s father adores her. A man doesn’t call fortune-tellers to his daughters crib otherwise. He longs to protect her and ensure her safety. When he discovers the danger, he immediately takes action. There isn’t even a question in his mind! Of course he will ban flax from his home. Of course he will protect his daughter…
The only love that can truly awaken your heart is the love of Christ, to which the Sleeping Beloved saga is an allegory. Each of our versions covers an aspect of the awakening heart. Zellandine’s story tenderly depicts the emotional journey of a survivor of violence. We saw how nothing – no terror, no pain, no abuse – could ever separate us from the love of God (Rom. 8:35-379), and that His love is able to redeem all things (Isaiah 61:1-3).
Because Zellandine’s story deals with the emotional journey of a survivor, it is timeless. Our next heroine, Talia, is far more at home in the Medieval and Renaissance periods. She speaks for a culture quite alien to us, a culture where women didn’t have a say and had to find contentment without love. We saw this to a certain extent in Zellandine’s story; it is more pronounced in Talia’s…
Last week we left Zellandine bereft, but choosing to be a survivor. A part of her heart was missing, though, for how could she forget her lost babe?
No mother can forget her child, yet God tells us it is more likely for a mother to forget than for Him to forget (Isaiah 49:15). God did not forget Zellandine’s distress – and He has not forgotten yours. Christ’s coming is evidence of this. He came to heal, to free, to comfort, to restore. We may not understand why evil things happen, but we know God does not condone sin and that one day all will be restored. If not in this life, then in the next.
While we wait for restoration, life goes on, as Zellandine’s did…