‘Princesses are never disabled’
Memoir of Disney lover says its time to recast disability as a happily-ever-after difference
Hamilton author Amanda Leduc takes on fairy-tale culture,
In 2018, Hamilton novelist Amanda Leduc attended a writers’ conference on rugged Whidbey Island, off the coast of Seattle. One day, she grabbed a walking stick at the door of her cottage on a quest to pick wild blackberries. To get to the bushes she first had to walk through a forest.
Leduc, who is 37, grew up on a steady diet of Disney films typical of a young girl of her generation. She recalls how she and her sister wore out their first VHS copy of “The Little Mermaid” and splashed around in the family pool, pretending to be Ariel.
She was also aware that Disney fairy tales teem with enchanted forests where you might stumble upon a big bad wolf or perhaps some workaholic dwarves.
Leduc has mild cerebral palsy and spastic hemiplegia, which in her case means she walks unaided, but with a slight limp. She wasn’t worried about any nasty witches lurking around that day. Her big concern was not stumbling as she navigated the ragged ground.
As she approached the bushes, Leduc’s mind began to wander. “How would a princess in a wheelchair pick those blackberries?”
The reality, she realized, is that princesses are never disabled and that physical disfigurements are reserved for villains and comic sidekicks. The evil queen in “Snow White” disguises herself as a hunchbacked old woman, while Scar, the snarky antagonist of “The Lion King,” is facially marked as such. Leduc’s beloved Ariel is celebrated for overcoming an impediment after she trades in fins for legs.
“You look at fairy tales and stories like ‘Game of Thrones’ and disability representation is often there, but it’s portrayed in a very negative way,” says Leduc. “It felt so obvious to me all of a sudden.”
Leduc initially thought about writing an essay on how exposure to these stories shape young people’s perception of the world. But the more she researched, the more fascinated Leduc became with the topic. Soon she had a full book manuscript.
“Disfigured: On Fairy Tales, Disability, and Making Space,” published by Coach House Books’ Exploded Views imprint, is a hybrid memoir, a call for disability justice and a deeply researched cultural critique of the “happily ever after” model of storytelling.
“Historically we have associated the disabled body image and disabled life with an unhappy ending,” says Leduc. “The challenge was to get people to understand that disability is not synonymous with an unhappy ending. It is quite possible for someone to live a disabled life that is full of joy and also full of struggle, but that doesn’t diminish the joy the disabled person has or make their life any less.”
“Disfigured” traces the history of fairy tales and how so many tropes that appeared in Hans Christian Andersen and Brothers Grimm stories still linger. Leduc shares her conversations with international activists and academics who offer a wide range of perspectives on what accessibility should ideally look like — and not just on a movie screen.
“Disney is always about the individual overcoming something or transforming in some way so they can more easily fit into the world,” says Leduc. “We need to stop thinking that way. We need to start thinking about a world that can transform and change, so as to fit everybody.”
Leduc is open with details from her own life, some of which are painful, including childhood bullying and her diagnosis with a major depressive disorder. For years she resisted identifying as disabled, and writes about how long it took her to connect the traumas she experienced to her disability.
“I didn’t want to reduce everything that I am down to a disability,” says Leduc. “Part of my journey as a disabled woman is recognizing that pain and struggle also made me who I am, and gave me insights and empathy in ways that I don’t know I would have today otherwise.”
Despite the book’s critical perspective, Leduc is not a “Disney basher.” She still enjoys repeat viewings of “Frozen” and “The Little Mermaid” with her nieces, but uses the opportunity to open up conversations. She asked them why Elsa is so afraid of telling people about her power? And why does Ariel believe that the only way that she can be with her true love is to grow legs, and be willing to give up her life under the sea to do so?
“There’s a reason why my sister and I pretended to be Ariel in the pool. We weren’t pretending to be Ariel when she walks around on her two legs, stumbling around on the sand,” says Leduc. “We wanted to be mermaids and have a body that was different. I think Disney films offer an interesting opportunity to talk about these kinds of things.”
“We need to start thinking about a world that can transform and change, so as to fit everybody.”
AMANDA LEDUC ON THE FAIRY-TALE TROPE THAT INDIVIDUALS HAVE TO CHANGE TO FIT INTO THE WORLD