We all know the classic fairytale Cinderella. That is, we know how it starts and we know how it ends. What makes re-adaptations of fairytales (or any movie or piece of media, really) so fun to consume is how we get to the ending we all know. All the stuff in the middle is where artists, authors, and directors are able to bring out new themes and new ideas for us to think about.
Jules Massenet’s opera adaptation of Cinderella had a huge change to the story from most other versions I’ve seen: Cinderella’s father is alive and well, and is a major character in the drama. In fact, he might even be the villain.
The opera begins with a bunch of household servants scurrying around nervously, worrying about the demanding and cruel lady of the house. Suddenly the master of the house Pandolfe comes in and asks the servants what all the fuss is about, and they confide in him that his wife treats them really poorly. Pandolfe basically blows them off, but does an aside to us the audience that they’re right. His wife is a mean old woman.
The servants leave, and Pandolfe, now alone, bemoans his plight without abandon. His new wife makes him miserable, and his only joy since his late wife died has been his daughter Lucette (Cinderella). He eventually tells us that he’s talking his awful wife and step-daughters to the ball tonight to court the Prince, and he unfortunately has to leave Lucette behind.
Wait, what? Why does he leave Lucette behind? Because he can’t stand up to his mean wife:
Yet when my wife begins to rage and bluster
To front the storm I cannot muster.”
The Madame and her two daughters get ready for the ball, and Pandolfe enters the scene to escort them to the palace. He tells us he doesn’t dare try to kiss his daughter goodbye before they leave:
Must leave you all alone, dear, while I’m gone
And though so much I’ll miss you,
Don’t even dare to kiss you,
Or relieve your dejection
With one word of affection.”
And that’s it. They leave. Off to the ball. Without Lucette.
This occurs again and again throughout the opera. The Madame and her daughters bully everybody they come into contact with: the servants, Lucette, and Pandolfe himself. And yet Pandolfe never stands up to them. He pities himself frequently, and recognizes that other people are suffering too, but he allows the cycle of abuse to continue.
Ultimately, Lucette’s father is a coward. And his cowardice makes him the villain of the opera.
Don’t get me wrong, the opera is extremely lighthearted. There are many moments of comedy, and even Pandolfe is portrayed comically, like a scattered-brained man who’s bulldozed by his luxury-adoring, bull-in-a-china-shop-esque wife. I doubt that Massenet or the librettist Henri Cain intended for Pandolfe to be the villain proper. But his actions (or rather, inactions) make him the villain. He is a huge obstacle, standing between each character and their happiness.
I felt for Pandolfe at the beginning of the opera. Being bullied sucks. But it sucks more not to stand up to your bullies. Because ultimately you do have a say in how you’re treated. If you choose not to assert yourself, then you rob yourself of your sense of dignity, self-efficacy, and self-esteem.
Given the hierarchic, patriarchic society he lives in, Pandolfe has the power to protect not just himself, but his daughter too. And he claims to love her:
Oh, that is cruel!
Ah, how I suffer when I see Lucette
Without a gown, without a jewel;
Obliged to hide to win a kiss by chance
And yet he chooses not to align his actions with his proclaimed love for his daughter. He simply does nothing.
He continually pities himself, bemoans the cruelty of his lot in life, and allows himself and those he loves to be bullied. Despite how much he stands to gain from bringing his actions in alignment with his values and standing up to the Madame, he chooses cowardice and inaction.
Perhaps an even sadder consequence of Pandolfe’s cowardice is the fact that the Madame and her daughters never really face any consequences for their meanness. By exhibiting courage and standing up for himself, his daughter, and staff, Pandolfe would have been helping the Madame and her daughters, whether they ever saw it that way or not.
Relationships are valuable not just for the immediate joy and warm, fuzzy feeling of connection we get from them, but also for how they influence us and cause us to grow. And ultimately, painful though it is, we grow from struggle and conflict.
Pandolfe is the villain of the opera because he has the power and desire to end the abuse his wife wreaks on his daughter, his staff, and himself, but he refuses to muster the courage to end it. He actually propels the cycle of abuse by not standing up to the Madame, thus allowing her to teach her nasty ways to her own daughters.
In the end, the Fairy Godmother intervenes on behalf of Lucette. But as the curtain closed on Lucette’s happily ever after, we can’t help but notice that Pandolfe is still married to that mean woman, and neither she nor he have changed at all. We can only hope that Pandolfe will someday take up courage and usher in a new era for himself, his family, and his staff.
But even if he doesn’t, maybe we can choose take up our own courage and face the bullies in our own lives. We owe it to ourselves to fight for our happiness and act in accordance with our values.
Sources and Suggested Reading
Cendrillon (Cinderella) by Jules Massenet – Watch for $5 on the Metropolitan Opera’s website
The Six Pillars of Self-Esteem by Nathaniel Branden
The Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass by Frederick Douglass