A continuation of the exploration of Addiction and our desire to connect with the Divine.
THE RED SHOES
There was once a little girl who was very pretty and delicate, but in summer she was forced to run about with bare feet, she was so poor, and in winter wear very large wooden shoes, which made her little insteps quite red, and that looked so dangerous! In the middle of the village lived old Dame Shoemaker; she sat and sewed together, as well as she could, a little pair of shoes out of old red strips of cloth; they were very clumsy, but it was a kind thought. They were meant for the little girl. The little girl was called Catherine.On the very day her mother was buried, Catherine received the red shoes, and wore them for the first time. They were certainly not intended for mourning, but she had no others, and with stocking-less feet she followed the poor straw coffin in them.
Here we see that the little girl Catherine has suffered a great loss with the loss of her mother. She and the wise woman, the Dame Shoemaker, fashioned together a simple pair of shoes that, while not beautiful, were of her own making, echoing the "Resiliency of the Human Spirit".
Suddenly a large old carriage drove up, and an old lady sat in it: she looked at the little girl, felt compassion for her, and then said to the clergyman: "Here, give me the little girl. I will adopt her!" And Catherine believed all this happened on account of the red shoes, but the old lady thought they were horrible, and they were burnt.
The little Red Shoes were thrown into the fires, not to be transformed, but to be discarded. What was precious to Catherine meant little to the Old Woman in the Carriage. Catherine was beginning to lose her connection to her Spirit. The Old Woman in this does not represent wisdom but instead staid social values which are unbending and "frozen" in time, disallowing for the regenerative youthful spirit of little Catherine.
Now Catherine was old enough to be confirmed; she had new clothes and was to have new shoes also. The rich shoemaker in the city took the measure of her little foot. This took place at his house, in his room; where stood large glass-cases, filled with elegant shoes and brilliant boots. All this looked charming, but the old lady could not see well, and so had no pleasure in them. In the midst of the shoes stood a pair of red ones, just like those the princess had worn. How beautiful they were! The shoemaker said also they had been made for the child of a count, but had not fitted. "That must be patent leather!" said the old lady. "They shine so!""Yes, they shine!" said Catherine, and they fitted, and were bought, but the old lady knew nothing about their being red, else she would never have allowed Catherine to have gone in red shoes to be confirmed. Yet such was the case.
Catherine looks outside of herself and her own beauty and is tempted by the glamour of the shoes and of being a "Princess" in the eyes of the world. She wants the acceptance of others and chooses external riches, The Red Shoes, because she thinks that wearing them will make her feel whole. She wants to fill her emptiness with The Perfect Thing.
Everybody looked at her feet; and when she stepped through the chancel door on the church pavement, it seemed to her as if the old figures on the tombs, those portraits of old preachers and preachers' wives, with stiff ruffs, and long black dresses, fixed their eyes on her red shoes. And she thought only of them as the clergyman laid his hand upon her head, and spoke of the holy baptism, of the covenant with God, and how she should be now a matured Christian; and the organ pealed so solemnly; the sweet children's voices sang, and the old music-directors sang, but Catherine only thought of her red shoes.In the afternoon, the old lady heard from everyone that the shoes had been red, and she said that it was very wrong of Catherine, that it was not at all becoming, and that in future Catherine should only go in black shoes to church, even when she should be older.
The Church represents the influence of cultural expectations and the imposition of morality in this story. The power of the Collective is strong and demands that the individual adhere to rules and regulations. She can think of nothing else, she is obsessed.
The next Sunday there was the sacrament, and Catherine looked at the black shoes, looked at the red ones--looked at them again, and put on the red shoes.
Catherine hears the call of the Red Shoes, the Red Shoes that make her feel pretty and well liked, and she answers that call regardless of what the consequences might be.
The sun shone gloriously; Catherine and the old lady walked along the path through the corn; it was rather dusty there. At the church door stood an old soldier with a crutch, and with a wonderfully long beard, which was more red than white, and he bowed to the ground, and asked the old lady whether he might dust her shoes. And Catherine stretched out her little foot."See, what beautiful dancing shoes!" said the soldier. "Sit firm when you dance"; and he put his hand out towards the soles. And the old lady gave the old soldier alms, and went into the church with her. And all the people in the church looked at Catherine's red shoes, and all the pictures, and as Catherine knelt before the altar, and raised the cup to her lips, she only thought of the red shoes, and they seemed to swim in it; and she forgot to sing her psalm, and she forgot to pray, "Our Father in Heaven!"
The experience in the Church represents Catherine's distraction from her internal connection to the Divine, to God. She thinks only of the Red Shoes, of what will make her feel full again.
Now all the people went out of church, and the old lady got into her carriage. Catherine raised her foot to get in after her, when the old soldier said, "Look, what beautiful dancing shoes!"And she could not help dancing a step or two, and when she began her feet continued to dance; it was just as though the shoes had power over them. She danced round the church corner, she could not leave off; the coachman was obliged to run after and catch hold of her, and he lifted her in the carriage, but her feet continued to dance so that she trod on the old lady dreadfully. At length she took the shoes off, and then her legs had peace.
The Soldier is The Devil in traditional terms, or Fear in modern psychological ones. He is the "tempter" who ceases to remind her at every opportunity of the Red Shoes and how she feels when she wears them. She is caught up in the ECSTASY OF THE DANCE which soon will begin to spiral out of control. She has found her Drug, her Substance, which mimics the ecstasy of oneness with God but is based in fear, not love.
The shoes were placed in a closet at home, but Catherine could not avoid looking at them.
She cannot resist. She must wear them.
Now the old lady was sick, and it was said she could not recover. She must be nursed and waited upon, and there was no one whose duty it was so much as Catherine's. But there was a great ball in the city, to which Catherine was invited. She looked at the old lady, who could not recover, she looked at the red shoes, and she thought there could be no sin in it; she put on the red shoes, she might do that also, she thought. But then she went to the ball and began to dance. When she wanted to dance to the right, the shoes would dance to the left, and when she wanted to dance up the room, the shoes danced back again, down the steps, into the street, and out of the city gate. She danced, and was forced to dance straight out into the gloomy wood. Then it was suddenly light up among the trees, and she fancied it must be the moon, for there was a face; but it was the old soldier with the red beard; he sat there, nodded his head, and said, "Look, what beautiful dancing shoes!" Then she was terrified, and wanted to fling off the red shoes, but they clung fast; and she pulled down her stockings, but the shoes seemed to have grown to her feet. And she danced, and must dance, over fields and meadows, in rain and sunshine, by night and day; but at night it was the most fearful.
She spirals out of control, totally lost, at the whim of the Red Shoes, of her addiction.
She danced over the churchyard, but the dead did not dance--they had something better to do than to dance. She wished to seat herself on a poor man's grave, where the bitter tansy grew; but for her there was neither peace nor rest; and when she danced towards the open church door, she saw the Spirit of the Dead standing there. He wore long, white garments; he had wings which reached from his shoulders to the earth; his countenance was severe and grave; and in his hand he held a sword, broad and glittering."Dance shalt thou!" said he. "Dance in thy red shoes till thou art pale and cold! Till thy skin shrivels up and thou art a skeleton! Dance shalt thou from door to door, and where proud, vain children dwell, thou shalt knock, that they may hear thee and tremble! Dance shalt thou--!""Mercy!" cried Catherine. But she did not hear the spirit's reply, for the shoes carried her through the gate into the fields, across roads and bridges, and she must keep ever dancing. One morning she danced past a door which she well knew. Within sounded a psalm; a coffin, decked with flowers, was borne forth. Then she knew that the old lady was dead, and felt that she was abandoned by all, and condemned by the angel of God.
There is no safe haven to return to. Catherine has lost her natural instincts, she is lost in her addiction. She can no longer see the true nature of The Red Shoes, she only knows she must dance.
She danced, and she was forced to dance through the gloomy night. The shoes carried her over stack and stone; she was torn till she bled; she danced over the heath till she came to a little house. Here, she knew, dwelt the executioner; and she tapped with her fingers at the window, and said, "Come out! Come out! I cannot come in, for I am forced to dance!"And the executioner said, "Thou dost not know who I am, I fancy? I strike bad people's heads off; and I hear that my axe rings!" "Don't strike my head off!" said Catherine. "Then I can't repent of my sins! But strike off my feet in the red shoes!"And then she confessed her entire sin, and the executioner struck off her feet with the red shoes, but the shoes danced away with the little feet across the field into the deep wood. And he carved out little wooden feet for her, and crutches, taught her the psalm criminals always sing; and she kissed the hand which had wielded the axe, and went over the heath."Now I have suffered enough for the red shoes!" said she. "Now I will go into the church that people may see me!" And she hastened towards the church door: but when she was near it, the red shoes danced before her, and she was terrified, and turned round. The whole week she was unhappy, and wept many bitter tears; but when Sunday returned, she said, "Well, now I have suffered and struggled enough! I really believe I am as good as many a one who sits in the church, and holds her head so high!"
Catherine has made a sacrifice in order to reclaim her spirit. She has surrendered the shoes.
The following Sunday, when the family was going to church, they asked her whether she would not go with them; but she glanced sorrowfully, with tears in her eyes, at her crutches. The family went to hear the word of God; but she went alone into her little chamber; there was only room for a bed and chair to stand in it; and here she sat down with her Prayer-Book; and whilst she read with a pious mind, the wind bore the strains of the organ towards her, and she raised her tearful countenance, and said, "O God, help me!"
Now that Catherine no longer is dancing the dance of the shoes, she begins to return to her innate connection to God through prayer and contemplation. She begins to heal.
And the sun shone so clearly, and straight before her stood the angel of God in white garments, a Spirit as she had seen before but he no longer carried the sharp sword, but in its stead a splendid green spray, full of roses. And he touched the ceiling with the spray, and the ceiling rose so high, and where he had touched it there gleamed a golden star. The clear sunshine streamed so warmly through the window to where Catherine sat! Her heart was so full of sunshine, peace, and joy, that it broke. Her soul flew on the sunshine to God.
From the works of Hans Christian Andersen, adapted by Clarissa Pinkola Estes (c. 1992) Illustration by Anne Anderson. The Golden Wonder Book for Children (c. 1924)
Comments in bold italics by Victoria Marina-Tompkins
