Although Jane Yolen is an excellent story-teller (her descriptive language and easy dialog make for a very fun read), I didn't enjoy this collection as much as I might have.
The book begins with an "open letter" to the author's daughter and granddaughters which contains quite a good summary of the various women warrior-types throughout history and throughout the world and hints at sources where you can find more information. However, she also makes several alarming statements that colored my reading experience.
First, she states that stories about heroic women have been "hidden... disguised... mutilated... truncated." Now, I'm not a scholar of folklore, or even an avid reader of it, but even I was familiar with many of the tales she included in her book. So I feel that Yolen may have been a bit over-dramatic on this point.
Another alarming statement is her explanation of why she only uses the term "hero" even though her protagonists are female--"Because heroines... sound like lesser or minor heroes, just as poetess and authress sound as if they are not as good as their male counterparts." This sentence caught me by surprise, since, as a woman, I would take no more offense at being described as an authress as I would at being described as a "chica" rather than a "chico" in a Spanish class. Using a specialized word such as "heroine" simply allows more clarity if it better suits the purpose of the author.
At any rate, I felt that this letter revealed the author to be super-sensitive to feminist issues and perceives her gender to be attacked at any hint of a difference between men and women. The letter was flavored with a bitterness that presented the book almost as a revenge against men rather than a valuable collection to be enjoyed.
That being said, I couldn't help but read Yolen's stories without a heightened sensitivity to issues of male vs. female. Here's what I found...
First out of the gate is "Atalanta the Huntress" which begins like this: "There was a king named Iasus, a cruel, unfeeling man who took his newborn daugter into the Calydonian forest on the far borders of his kingdom. There he put her down on the forest floor saying, 'I wished for a boy, and this is what I got. I will not have you.' Then he turned and left." Lovely. Here I'm thinking, "Gee. Jane Yolen really hates men." But there's more! Later in the story, Atalanta seeks help from the royal court. There all the "heroes" ignored her. One says, "Who is this mere girl who would hunt with heroes?" Even the prince, who agrees to take her along on the hunt, is only sizing her up as a potential wife.
The second story begins by describing a tall, strong man who also happened to be ugly. Very ugly. His daughter is also tall and strong, but she is also beautiful and smart. Hmmm..... Later when the daughter offers to help fight the evil hippo, the ugly man refuses, echoed by his hunter pal, "You are but a female... this is too dangerous a thing for a mere girl."
In the next story the man kidnaps young girls and cuts them into pieces. In the next story the man ties the woman to a tree, exposed to the elements and the wild animals because she disobeyed his orders. In the next story, the authorities (presumably men) ask the brave young girl who is volunteering to try to kill a giant serpant plaguing their village, "What can you, a mere girl, do that ten men could not?" And so on...
Sure, these same character types are in countless folktales and legends. But placed in the context of the author's introduction, they take on a whole new potency of evil. It's as if Yolen is trying to teach the reader by repitition that men are unfeeling, men are untrustworthy, men are dangerous...
The final nail in the coffin was Yolen's choice to include the ending part of the story, "Atalanta the Huntress." In it, Atalanta challenges each of her many suitors to a foot race. The first suitor to defeat her wins Atalanta's hand in marriage. We've all heard the story... the suitors never even have a chance, so strong and swift is Atalanta. But finally, one wily suitor tosses golden apples on the path before her and, as Yolen says, "Atalanta could not take her eyes off the golden fruit. She desired it above all things. Stooping down, she picked it up. And [the suitor] passed her by." As far as I'm concerned, this is a huge jab at women--a statement that women are fickle and unstable, ruled by their passions and incapable of overcoming obstacles. Why in the world would Yolen choose this story for a book she wrote to liberate the "disguised" and "mutilated" heroines--I mean, heroes--of world folklore?
The high point of the book is the section of notes at the end. Yolen explains where she found the stories and what parts she changed as she rewrote them. This, and the bibliography, allows for further research and perhaps a more objective look at the tales as they have been passed down through the ages.
In conclusion, I feel this potentially thrilling collection is extremely devalued by the author's political intent. If you are looking for a great collection of stories with strong female protagonists (but without the anti-male didacticism), I recommend "The Serpent Slayer and other stories of strong women" by Katrin Tchana. This volume celebrates the differences between the genders, which I feel is far more empowering and constructive than forcing women to live up to--or out-do--a standard set by the actions of men.
