James Norcliffe. Photo / Sharon Bennett, University of Otago
The Frog Prince
by James Norcliffe
(Vintage, $36)
Before they were fodder for children's books and movies, fairy tales were women's stories, told shaken through generations, details shifting with each retelling. Spoken to one another over repetitive work, like mending clothes, preparing meals, and spinning wool, these narratives were filled with the things women desired — a prince, a safe home in a castle, a happy ending; and also full of the things they feared most — the loss of their children, violence from men.
When the Grimm brothers, Jacob and Wilhelm, first published their collected stories Nursery and Household Tales in 1815, the book was aimed at an adult audience and found few readers. Further editions of the tales were heavily edited, to market the book as children's stories, cutting out all the sexual references. They also increased the violence, particularly in retribution for terrible behaviour, and shifted language around women, creating a series of stories that saw well-behaved, God-fearing women rewarded, and badly behaved women punished.
It's interesting to keep all this in mind when you read James Norcliffe's first novel for adults, The Frog Prince. The novel's dual narratives emphasise how stories change when "context changes". In one thread, we're in contemporary Europe, where David has been travelling with his colleague and girlfriend Cara during their term break. They both teach at Huntingdon, an exclusive boarding school in France. David is an old-fashioned New Zealander who wears "disreputable tweed" with a "mismatched tie" and "frivolous socks"; Cara is a sexy American of many contradictions — "open but private, light-hearted but serious, enchanting but infuriating". David proposes marriage; Cara refuses with good grace, then vanishes, leaving David distraught.
The second narrative, a manuscript written by Cara, transports us to 1810, where we follow the Heller sisters, Mathilde and Helga, writing down their oma's stories to take to the Grimm brothers. On their first trip, Mathilde develops a crush on Jacob, the elder Grimm brother. Desperate to have him notice her, Mathilde and her sister take more stories, inventing more than excuses along the way.
The two stories are linked through their common themes: unrequited love and the Frog Prince story. In Cara's manuscript, the Heller sisters write the Frog Prince tale. In the modern world, its meaning helps us understand Cara's motives.
The book's cover indicates Norcliffe's light touch with this material, and the warmth in the style and tone. The scenes set at Huntingdon toy cleverly with the dynamic between the headmaster, his wife and the school staff. Its counterpoint is the dark forest where Mathilde's oma insists not only are all fairy tales set but is also the place "where we all live". Dream sequences, as well as Cara's disappearance, add a sense of foreboding to the narrative. One of the endings for "The Frog Prince or Iron Heinrich" shows a princess who doesn't kiss the frog but instead "hurls it against a wall".
The novel is about lust and infatuation and love — David loves Cara and others lust for her; Mathilde loves Jacob — yet there's no visceral sense of it. Much like the neutered fairy tale written by the Heller sisters, sex is reduced to allusion. By largely withholding Cara's perspective from the story, Norcliffe takes the fairy tale from women and attempts to discover male desires and male fears, reversing the original meaning.
The novel's conclusion is slightly underwhelming, though the subversion isn't without pleasure. Entertaining and engaging, The Frog Prince is a charming novel about the power of love and the stories that shape our lives.
Reviewed by Josie Shapiro
Josie Shapiro is a writer from Auckland. Her short fiction has been published in takahē, Newsroom, The Three Lamps and Ko Aotearoa Tātou / We Are New Zealand (Otago University Press 2020). A longer version of this review will appear on anzliterature.com