Actually, this story has nothing to do with C. S. Lewis whatsoever.
Last week I went to a holiday party with a bunch of musicians -- singers, actually. And, well, you know what happens when singers get together, don't you? No? Well ... um... they sing.
And I don't mean just a couple of their favorite Top 40 Hits from when they were in junior high -- no, they sing everything from Christmas songs to German Lieder to Broadway to ... well, Disney. So I'm already feeling rather dysphoric -- all those beautiful soprano voices that I can't dream of ever even approaching...
And then someone starts playing a soft lilting eigth note motive on the piano -- fa-sol-la-do-fa-sol-la-do, sol-la-ti-re-sol-la-ti-re, repeat -- yes, that sounds vaguely familiar...
Look at this stuff, isn't it neat?
Oh, Little Mermaid? Yes -- I don't even know how many times I saw that -- must have been a dozen or so -- one of the benefits of having sisters, one of my true guilty pleasures growing up. Okay, I'll sing along softly if I can remember some of the words...
wouldn't you think I the girl who has everything?
Still trying to remember how this song goes...
but who cares,
no big deal,
I want more.
I wanna be where the people are.
I wanna see, wanna see them dancing,
walking around on those -- what do you call 'em -- oh, feet!
Oh, crap, suddenly this sounds ... too familiar ... I'm starting to replace words in my head, edit the lyrics on the fly ...
wish I could be
Part of that world
... the sopranos sing, as I sit on the stairs watching them relive the childhood I never had.
And I suddenly realize why I always loved that ridiculous movie. All these women grew up seeing that movie (at least in retrospect) as a mildly female-affirming, mildly misogynistic fantasy ... hey, sweetie, think life's so tough as a girl? You want to be a mermaid? Well, she wants to be you, so be grateful! (But selling the message with sparles! and happy Disney music!)
What would I give if I could live out of these waters?
What would I pay to spend a day warm on the sand?
Bet'cha on land they understand
That they don't reprimand their daughters
Proper women sick of swimmin'
Ready to stand
Yes, I always knew what was really going on in that movie -- especially once I figured out that Ariel is really a boy's name: an Archangel, Lion of God, a character from The Tempest.
Just one day -- give up my voice? In a heartbeat -- I never wanted it in the first place. Pay? Yeah, I've thought about that one pretty well -- what, $50-100K? But don't you even think about it, kid. You try, and you'll get fed to the Sea Witch. "Where they don't reprimand" -- don't you mean "sons," son? And proper women? fuhgeddaboudit!
And so I'm sitting there on the stairs next to the piano, fighting back tears, actually, discretely wiping tears from my eyes, thinking, "how the hell does a guy explain bursting into tears over the Little Mermaid?"
Listen to it again and tell me I'm making this up.
~Alyssa