The Queen of the Gnomes and the True Prince

Last month I reviewed "The Story of the Little Merman" by Ethel Reader. This story received a new print edition in 1979, but when it was originally released in 1909, it was part of a volume with a second story, "The Queen of the Gnomes and the True Prince," also illustrated by Frank Cheyne Papé. This one was apparently never re-released, although the 1979 edition of "The Little Merman" still contains Reader's original foreword with references to it. Luckily, I was able to track down a 1909 edition. Having enjoyed "The Little Merman," I was eager to see what the companion story had to offer; however, unfortunately, this ended up being where the cracks begin to show.

The story begins with a king and queen having a baby daughter. At her christening, they fail to invite a certain old witch. The witch, angered, curses her so that she will spend her life underground in the realm of the gnomes. A good fairy, however, adds that a prince will come to rescue her. After some years, the witch's machinations ensure that the young princess is lured out of her protected castle and whisked away to the gnome realm. The gnomes are all men, having worked their wives to death. The gnome king intends to marry the princess. She sees the humans they have carried off to be their slaves in the mines, and meets the king's son: a good-natured, mischievous imp known as the Goblin. As the princess grows up underground, waiting for her prince to slay the guardian dragon and free her, she becomes close friends with the Goblin. He works on her behalf, trying to find her prince for her, but the princes who arrive never quite measure up. (One of the story's funniest moments is when a tough, imposing he-man of a prince sees the dragon and immediately, sheepishly leaves.)  Finally the Goblin takes matters into his own hands and faces the dragon. He's badly wounded, but manages to kill it so that the princess and all the enslaved humans can escape. When the princess kisses him, her love transforms him into a handsome prince and they return home to rule her kingdom.

The Goblin is a pretty delightful hero, and I enjoyed his gradual development from seeking other princes to saying "Fine, I'll do it myself." I was honestly sad when all the magic went away at the end - gnomes transmuted into ordinary humans, dragons into mundane animals, and the Goblin into a handsome prince (although he keeps his quirky personality).

This story feels in many ways like "The Story of the Little Merman." They are written to mimic and deconstruct classic fairytales, and they have a very specific Edwardian feel. There's the same whimsical, tongue-in-cheek style. There is a princess waiting for a prince to save her and her people. There is an unconventional hero who takes up the role, faces the dragon, and nearly gives his life in the process. It's not as clearly linked to any particular fairy tale; there are, of course, shades of "Sleeping Beauty," and dragon-slayer tales, and maybe - maybe - George MacDonald's The Princess and the Goblin.

However, it never reaches the same level as The Little Merman. Many of the same themes are here, but it doesn't have the same examination of morality and self-sacrifice. On the one hand, I had a much deeper appreciation for the Merman story after studying "The Little Mermaid." On the other hand, only one of these stories got a reprint, so maybe editors agreed with me.

Both stories rely deeply on the tropes of the dragon-slayer and the damsel in distress, although with faint twists. These dragon-slayers get beaten within an inch of their life. And the damsels get their own moments to shine - the Merman's princess when she cares for the Merman's wounds and then dives into legal matters and uses her political education to save him, and the Queen of the Gnomes when she cares for the Goblin's wounds and... actually that's pretty much it. That's the issue. You see the Merman's princess trying to work against her circumstances herself and the way her love for her people inspires the Merman. The Queen of the Gnomes shares these traits - kindness, generosity, patience, the impulse to help the disadvantaged - but it feels like a slightly subpar repeat. We get a sense of the Merman's princess's rage and frustration when she is blocked from helping her people. There is a key moment where, as a child, she tries to stand up to her uncle and is consequently sent away. She doesn't return until much later in the book. In contrast, the Queen of the Gnomes is centered in her story, so we stay with her perspective the whole time, and she doesn't really do anything. She just waits.

Both stories are subversive. (Note, in particular, the plotline of the wicked goblins, who are shamed by the narrative for wearing down their wives with endless housework, while the Goblin, our hero, is willing to pitch in with chores like dishwashing.) The Merman and the Goblin are intriguing heroes. They're sensitive and gentle. They are explicitly described as not traditionally attractive, and they step in when the more traditional hero types fail to show up. But they're both still born to royalty, and that is in large part why they get the princess. Gardeners' sons and mailmen need not apply, even if they are kind or brave or childhood friends of the princess. It doesn't stand out so much if you only read one story, but reading them back-to-back, it starts to form a pattern. (For comparison, in The Princess and the Goblin series, the princess eventually marries a miner. That was published in 1872.)

There is some meta commentary throughout The Queen of the Gnomes, even more than in The Little Merman. They need a prince to slay the dragon because that's what happens in this kind of story. The princess waits because that's what the story demands. The Goblin knows that he is not a traditional prince and that this means the dragon may just kill him. But while reading The Queen of the Gnomes, I was definitely wishing the meta could stretch a little farther and get a little more creative. Maybe because The Little Merman set me up to expect just slightly more.

Overall, The Little Merman is a stronger story. Although it's not perfect, it has a deeper examination of its themes. The Queen of the Gnomes feels a little like a retread or an early draft of the same plot.