Ellen Siegelman, Ph.D. is a Jungian analyst in the practice of psychoanalysis, therapy, and consultation in Berkeley and San Francisco, CA. She’s also a dear friend of mine and highly sensitive. She is the author of a number of professional articles plus Personal Risk (Harper, 1985), a popular book on responsible risk-taking and Metaphor and Meaning in Psychotherapy (Guilford Press, 1990), an excellent book for anyone interested in therapy. Somehow we were talking about favorite fairy tales and she said hers was “The Princess and the Pea.” I knew what that was about, so I asked her to write something about “our” fairy tale, and here’s her story of that story…
(Originally published in Comfort Zone Newsletter: August 2009.)
When I was a little girl, I read or had my mother read to me a great number of stories by the brothers Grimm and by Hans Christian Andersen. I was enthralled by most of them, but my special favorite was Andersen’s The Princess and the Pea. Without taking an official poll, I would guess that that story might be a favorite among highly sensitive women because it is, as you may remember, about a solitary woman who looks bedraggled and unprepossessing but is found to have exquisite sensitivity. Here’s the original story in translation from the Danish:
The Princess and the Pea
(also titled “The Real Princess”)
There was once a prince, and he wanted a princess, but then she must be a real Princess. He traveled right around the world to find one, but there was always something wrong. There were plenty of princesses, but whether they were real princesses, he had great difficulty in discovering; there was always something which was not quite right about them. So at last he had to come home again, and he was very sad because he wanted a real princess so badly.
One evening there was a terrible storm. It thundered and lightninged and the rain poured down in torrents. Indeed, it was a fearful night.
In the middle of the storm somebody knocked at the town gate, and the old King himself went to open it.
It was a princess who stood outside, but she was in a terrible state from the rain and the storm. The water streamed out of her hair and her clothes; it ran in at the top of her shoes and out at the heel, but she said that she was a real princess.
“Well we shall soon see if that is true,” thought the old Queen, but she said nothing. She went into the bedroom, took all the bedclothes off, and laid a pea on the bedstead. Then she took twenty mattresses and piled them on the top of the pea, and then twenty feather beds on the top of the mattresses. This was where the princess was to sleep that night. In the morning they asked her how she had slept.
“Oh terribly badly!” said the princess. “I have hardly closed my eyes the whole night! Heaven knows what was in the bed. I seemed to be lying upon some hard thing, and my whole body is black and blue this morning. It is terrible!”
They saw at once that she must be a real princess when she had felt the pea through twenty mattresses and twenty feather beds. Nobody but a real princess could have such a delicate skin.
So the prince took her to be his wife, for now he was sure that he had found a real princess, and the pea was put into the Museum, where it may still be seen if no one has stolen it.
There, that is a true story.
######
Going back to my own childhood, my mother, who was basically a good-enough mother, was very different from me: pragmatic, somewhat concrete, and struggling to hold our family together psychologically while my father went through the Great Depression and his own ensuing depression. But in her book, being “sensitive” was just a kind of indulgence. I can’t tell you how often she would say to me, “Don’t take things so seriously.” “Why can’t you be more happy-go-lucky like Joyce” (my younger sister), and above all, “Don’t be so sensitive.”
So I somehow heard Andersen’s story as a rebuke. This princess was too, too sensitive, and she went around making trouble for people who had to haul in mattress after mattress because she could feel that darned pea no matter what.
It was only years later that I came to a different take on the story, thanks to the help of my warm and attuned analyst. After I explained that it was my favorite story and was, in fact, a cautionary tale about being too sensitive, my analyst said, “But that’s not the point of the story. The point is that exquisite sensitivity was the proof that she was indeed special and fit to be the princess the prince had been searching for.” So if anything the story is a celebration of sensitivity, which I could understand only after I stopped looking at it through my mother’s lens.
I think the story is about abuse.
The Prince wants to choose someone to abuse to be his wife.
The Prince is a bad person. The real reason the woman didn’t stay with him was because they refused. He didn’t treat them as a Queen.
I think that the princess represents a woman who is forced to stay in the abusive relationship.
What do we think of that typically goes under the bed mattress? When a child loses his or her tooth. They put it on the mattress (with sheets) and cover it with a pillow. And it is found by the tooth fairy. It’s really The parents putting money there. The two are both trying to cover up the abuse from the family members and community.
She wakes up black and blue due to the pea that was under the mattress. This is the lie they told. It wasn’t due to a pea. It was really the Prince who abused her. He violently abused her to the point where she was black and blue and he knocked out her front teeth. The upper front teeth help us sound out the letter “T”. Without it, the T’s sound like P’s. The town’s people want to know what happened to her. What is told is that she just woke up like this. She might have tried to say that she found her teeth under the mattress but it sounded like the word peas.
He doesn’t want to lose her because then he can’t abuse her. He want to prove that it wasn’t him or that he can make it up to her in order to appease the family/community. The only reason he marries her to to keep her from leaving is so that he could continue the abuse.
Adrienne,
What woman didn’t stay with him?! It said he looked all over the land for a woman but no one was right. He was dating! I’m sorry someone you are close to was in an abusive relationship but they aren’t all that way. It’s the only explanation I can think of that would cause you to see such detailed violence and hatred in such a small simple story. Personally this describes me literally. I brush my bed every night because I feel every little thing. My husband can’t feel what I feel. Grit, hair, pills on the fabric (bits of fabric fluff all balled up). I feel my skin snag on micro imperfections in the fabric. And yes I wake up bruised. Not to the extent the story describes but I generally find bruises I didn’t go to bed with. If anyone suggested my 120 lb husband had beaten me (I weigh 260) I would laugh until I got sick. I’d just sit on him. It’s like 430-5 in the AM and as I lay here in bed responding to your comment I can feel all the stuff on the bed. (I’ll probably brush it again so I can attempt to go back to sleep.) Again I’m really sorry you’ve gone through whatever it is you’ve gone through. No one should have to live with a build up of anger and frustration like that.