He Could Never

He could never

Fact of having hair- we shed, and it gets on our clothes.

Fact of having LONG hair- the hair you shed is long and dose not magical disappear in the washing machine.

Unfortunate result- SOMEHOW hair will get in your socks and feeling a piece of hair in between your toes in the middle of the night is WORSE then wet socks.

The books killed me my hand is dead.

(So. Many. Strait. Lines. Again and again and again and-)

My authors brain is a mess.

So I have this notes I add to every now and then when I think up good lines, jokes, or one liners, and I was just adding one and the stupidest thing came to mind,

“Tell me I sexy,

Tell me im pretty,

Tell me im….

Flor made this

Can we talk about Philip?

Disclaimer: I like D’s writers, especially in the classic fairy tales. The corporation sucks though, so they don’t get a tag.

So, as a kid, I read both the Grimm and the Disney versions of various fairy tales. My mom was German, so my brain literally thought these were the German and American versions of the same story and didn’t mind the dissonance at all. But I remember Philip being my favorite prince ever. 

Firstly, as a kid, he gives Aurora the “ew, cooties” look and that makes me crack up every time because it’s not even a line. It’s just a look in reaction to the subtitle line below. Odds are this is the first baby he’s seen in his life. That, and his cap looks like a little tail feather. I’ll get back to that look later because it could mean something more.

As an older person, Philip is just generally a nice guy. He’s even friends with his horse. The name “Phillip” means lover of horses. It’s a trope now, but this is probably where it started with Disney and why they chose his name. The idea of making the animal companion a foil to show character is a Disney thing even now. He chides, encourages, and even gets annoyed at his horse, and that’s just pretty fun.

Not to mention his outfit as a teen/young adult is essentially Peter Pan in red; so, sure, Disney recycles their hero animation, but to me that says he’s all mischief at the start.

And he’s nice to his dad, Hubert, even when they disagree. And can we all just appreciate this line right here when his dad tells him to marry a princess? 

I’ve heard people say that the “Once Upon a Dream” waltz in the woods is creepy, but it’s kind of one of my favorite courtships when I indulge the love-at-first-sight romance trope. And here’s why: 

She’s startled, not scared. The animals have been watching Philip up to this point and she’s probably putting two and two together as to how they got the clothes. They’re not too worried when she glances at them to see whether or not this newcomer needs a vibe check.

Generally, people don’t like this part:

It’s hard to tell from the stills (you’d have to look at the whole scene), but he pushes her hand back to her when he apologizes and she closes the space between them a little just before “a stranger,” part. She also she does this:

As if to say, “Hell no, you’re not frightening.” I was too young to realize that smug little look was also a bit flirty, but I remember I liked it. Aurora’s not a meek little mouse. She and Phillip both know she’s got woodland animals at her beck and call even if he has a sword. Once he explains himself, he lets go and she does this: 

She turns her back on him. An “I’m not impressed. I own these woods,” thing. And I love that after this he doesn’t try to keep talking. He sings. Not to mock her daydream or change the song, but to show her he sings her tune. They’re flirting at this point. His touches are glancing, like when she looks for him behind the tree. He always waits for her to close the space between them. At last she gives him this little smile and they start to dance.

I think the reason I loved this as a kid, the reason I still love this, is that Philip wants to play along. And he’s doing this all barefoot, by the way. They both are. You could see that as a symbol of innocence or sex or abandoning his noble rank, but I’m a punny person, so I say they’re on “equal footing.” 

Sure, they forget to exchange names at the end, but who hasn’t done that after spending like an hour with someone and realizing you like them? Aurora does do a “stranger danger” thing again when he asks her name, but he wants to meet her godmothers and so she invites him over. He immediately tells his dad he’s met the girl he wants to marry. His father’s not enthused.

And this gets back to that look. We don’t know where Philip’s mother is but his dad’s getting along in years so it’s possible she’s passed away since the baby shower. She’s the one showing him the baby, not Hubert. Isn’t that interesting?

Because his father protests but, at this point, he gives up. He laments, “How will I ever tell Stephen?” not, “Well, better put my foot down and force him to marry someone he doesn’t like.” We can imagine he and his wife were pretty happy together, but Hubert’s ready to face change, even if he’s nervous about it. So he gives up and Philip goes off to adorkably visit Aurora’s guardians.

We have to assume Philip was a tall three-year-old for the age difference not to be creepy. (I find it’s easiest to go into a fairy tale assuming time is wonky and everyone has a life expectancy of thirty.) But whatever the case, Philip probably recognizes Maleficent by this look. 

I mean, maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he just thinks she killed his girlfriend. Or maybe it’s just no one’s happy non-consensually being tied up by someone looking at you like this the whole time: 

Anyway… In the original German version, the sleeping beauty isn’t even rescued for a hundred years. Maleficent seems to get her hubris from knowing what fairy tale she’s in. She actually lampshades how ridiculous the Disney idea of true love is by telling Philip she’ll let him go in a century. She mocks his youth, his love, and his mortality. (Maybe she’s actually jealous?) His reaction is understandable:

The Disney version makes Philip and Maleficent’s conflict personal. Even Aurora’s mom is polite to Maleficent, but not Philip. He’s next-gen. He’s done with this patriarchy crap. 

Oh, and that’s another thing that makes Philip awesome in my book: He shuns the patriarchy. How? Well, I’m glad you asked… 

One of the biggest problems of the original fairy tale was that Aurora isn’t kissed while she’s asleep. She married in a sham wedding while she’s asleep. She wakes up due to labor pains. The lack of agency in her life is framed as magical and fortunate. Girls were encouraged to accept this. 

And, again, Disney’s writers lampshades this: Aurora’s parents happily planned to marry her off the minute she was born and this was treated as normal. In everything else, Philip and Aurora have been equals, but then she tells her godmothers no. Unlike Hubert, they’re hearing none of it. She’s taken to the palace anyway. 

It’s sad but true that often women perpetuate the patriarchy by forcing onto younger women the same restrictions they were brought up on, even if it’s simply because they don’t know how to escape and have deluded themselves into thinking this’ll keep their daughters safe. The fairy godmothers are in the wrong, whether good or ill comes from it. 

Aurora, understandably, believes her happiness in life is over. She’s faced with the role society has chosen for her even as Maleficent is mocking Philip that all his heroics and romance will mean nothing when he’s old and feeble. However, Maleficent in her hubris also tells Philip how to break the curse. Aurora’s coronation takes place in near silence, but we can assume, she’s also being filled in about the curse and the reasons for her being hidden.

Maleficent is definitely evil in this version, but if Aurora can’t trust her godmothers, following the evil green light to a spinning wheel isn’t actually that insane, when you think about it. 

What does this have to do with Philip?

Well, Maleficent’s evil could be seen as a manifestation of the patriarchy’s shadow—that is, the push-back for equilibrium when society tries to shove certain parts of it (like powerful women) into the dark. This means Philip and his “modern” ideas about love are actually counter to King Stephen and his ideas of arranged marriages and snubbing powerful women. Maleficent’s capture of Philip in a way is trying to force him into the role of old geezer taking a child bride. She quotes Merryweather’s blessing of “true love’s kiss” to bring the mockery home.

But the idea of “true love’s kiss,” is subverted here. The patriarchy would use this idea to tell a young girl her marriage is fate. But what if “true love” just means the love the woman chooses? Wouldn’t that be a novel and refreshing idea?

For all her mocking, Maleficent confirms it. She doesn’t plan to kidnap Philip after seeing him. She does so after her raven overhears Aurora talk about a man she’s met who she’s in love with. She plans the kidnapping after she learns Philip is Aurora’s choice. Think about that: She always needed to know where Aurora was, not the little prince who was at the baby shower. The arranged marriage, that is, Philip as a prince, never concerned her.

So if Aurora’s fairy godmothers told her about the curse and also insisted she not tempt fate, they essentially said they don’t believe she has a true love to save her. (Merryweather might believe it, but she’s always been outnumbered.) However, if Aurora believes she has a true love, if she’s chosen someone, one could assume Aurora was conscious of her actions during the finger-pricking scene. The godmothers call for her but she still chooses to heed Maleficent’s voice.

Aurora’s godmothers gave her beauty and song, but they didn’t give her courage or playfulness or intelligence. These are all her own. She takes control the only way she can, by invoking the curse. She’ll avoid a royal marriage to a stranger and either wake up seeing Philip or not wake up at all. She’s not giving up, she’s forcing them to honor her choice. So, yes, the kiss is consensual. Maleficent knows it will be, so she plans to stop it, at least until Stephen’s kingdom comes to ruin in a hundred years.

But that doesn’t mean Maleficent is good. She’s just inevitable. In a society where women’s choices are honored, Maleficent would never have become an outcast. There’s no room for her in the world where Philip and Aurora are allowed to be together. 

The godmother’s, to some extent, realize their mistake, but they simply hide it by putting everyone to sleep. They do in some way redeem themselves by enabling Philip to rescue Aurora, but the sword and shield they give him don’t make it to the tower for the kiss that breaks the spell. (The godmothers don’t either.) 

And look at how all the magical green fades out with this kiss when Aurora opens her eyes and Philip grins.

They show the moment twice. Her eyes open and she smiles at him. No surprise. This is exactly what she planned for. Philip’s not wearing prince-y clothes either. He’s wearing the cape the owl stole, the reason they first met. I mean, I think that’s just endearing, because the two of them were in earth tones before but now they get to wear bright emotional colors.

Even as a kid, I always thought the change of Philip’s clothes before the final dance meant something symbolic. They could have dressed in peasant clothes presumably, but they’re asserting their royalty here, the fact that they are both autonomously making this choice, not their parents.

They look so happy too, like they’ve been catching up all the way down to the ballroom.

Aurora must have heard what Hubert said because he gets a kiss on the cheek on the way to see her parents and at this point how should he know who she is? She’s coming to him first as, “I’m that girl your son likes,” before revealing who she is by meeting her parents. Her mother hugs her. Her father doesn’t get to say a word.

After this point, there’s really no major dialogue, outside of a bit from the fairy godmothers during the waltz about happy endings and the color of Aurora’s dress. (Flora is still trying to make it pink—traditional—while Merryweather tries for blue. An odd question to leave the audience on.)

So that’s why I like Philip. He’s practical, playful, and brave—and he helps the girl he loves smash the patriarchy. 

I suppose I like these two as a couple too, just because they go from strangers to playful, to facing with the horrors of what society is trying to force on them, and they finally get to look comfortable with each other despite everything that’s been pitted against them.

The whole “I’m not like other girls” movement should really be called the “I don’t want men to treat me the way they treat other women” movement because that’s what it really is. Women know that a girl who wears makeup is as respectable as a girl who wears none. A girl who’s played every Final Fantasy game is as respectable as a girl who digs Candy Crush. A woman who started her own law firm is as respectable as a single mom who works in the service industry. A girl who enjoys casual sex is as respectable as a girl who has never had her first kiss. A lesbian who has no interest in men is as respectable as a straight girl who loves her boyfriend. A girl who reads People magazine is as respectable as a girl who reads Dostoyevsky.

Women have been extensively shamed for saying “I’m not like other girls” when what they are really saying, maybe without knowing it, is “I’ve heard the way men talk about specific types of women, typically women who do things that they don’t understand or relate to, and I really, really want them to separate me from that and see me as a person who is worthy of being respected.” How much respect a woman gets from men is very rarely indicative of how much she deserves.

“I don’t want you to treat me the way you treat other girls, because you treat other girls like shit.”