The Wake Philo

Solarz

People are Simply Ogres and Witches
Realistic Adult Antagonists in Dahl's Children's Literature

by: Kara H. Solarz

“Writers for children must know who they are. They must know and understand children, otherwise they would not be able to write for them in the first place
.” — Jacqueline Rose

If you want to remember what it’s like to live in a child’s world, you’ve got to get down on your hands and knees and live like that for a week. You’ll find you have to look up at all these… giants around you who are always telling you what to do and what not to do.” — Roald Dahl

In the previous sections, I established Roald Dahl as a master of children’s fiction. Dahl distinguishes his literature by employing fantasy to accentuate the child’s capabilities. He incorporates magical elements to enliven his stories and drive his protagonists toward self-realization. Additionally, Dahl places the child protagonist in society to highlight his/her realized independence, a method of emphasizing the child’s transformation. This empowerment contrasts sharply with conventional child protagonists who rely on fairy godmothers and good witches, a construct outlined by Bruno Bettelheim in his 1976 Uses of Enchantment. Finally, Dahl’s adult antagonists must be discussed before one can completely understand the significance of Dahlian literature.
Though Dahl’s literature clearly mirrors the classic fairy tale, the author departs from this construct in his use of realistic adult antagonists rather than fantastical fairy tale villains. Instead of creating an imagined evil, Dahl grounds his fiction in reality, articulating an enemy who demonstrates his mastery of the child’s perspective. The plausibility of unsuitable parental figures, including James’s Aunt Spiker and Sponge as well as Matilda’s mother and father, exemplifies Dahl’s reconciliation of fantasy and reality. These figures serve as exaggerations of the modern child’s greatest adversary, the grown-up: “Although the child loves her mother and father, they are subconsciously the enemy. There’s a fine line, I think, between loving your parents deeply and resenting them” (qtd. in Talbot 5). Dahl’s most palpable modernization of the fantastic fairy tale villain is his frequentdepiction of authoritative adult figures as “giants,” a metaphor used in both Matilda and Boy. Within his works of fiction, the author conveys an inherent understanding of a child’s sense of frustrated inferiority by employing adults as realistic antagonists who contrast the fantastical figures of fairy tale.

The sinister parental figure cannot be deemed the only contemporary aspect of Dahl’s fiction, since the traditional fairy tale is rife with “false parents.” In his discussion of the classic figure of evil “imposter” parents, Bettelheim explicates the “fantasy of the wicked stepmother” which allows children to express their frustrations with adults without realistic consequences (69).

The wicked stepmother creates a clear distinction between good and evil that protects the child from contaminating the good mother image of “the all giving protector” (Bettelheim 67). Bettelheim suggests that the child’s mind is incapable of conflating notions of good and evil in a single maternal figure: “Unable to see any congruence between the different manifestations, the child truly experiences [the maternal figure] as two separate entities- the loving and the threatening… By dividing her up, so to speak, the child can preserve his image of the good [mother]” (Bettelheim 67). This separation is apparent in the particular use of the “stepmother” figure, a role which connotes displacement of the actual parent. Bettelheim’s established dichotomy between good and evil requires an entirely good maternal character, often embodied in a benevolent “good fairy”: “Fairy tales, which contain good fairies who suddenly appear and help the child find happiness despite this “imposter” or “stepmother,” protect the child from the “imposter”… somewhere hidden, the good fairy godmother watches over the child’s fate, ready to assert her power when critically needed” (68). Therefore the preservation of the good mother sustains the child’s positive perception of the parent and mitigates the antagonization of the “false mother.” The idea of the sinister adult is not unique to Dahl’s literature but instead exists in the classic fairy tale as a fantasy which helps the child make sense of conflicts in the real world, or as Bettelheim argues, “manage the contradictory feelings which would otherwise overwhelm him at this stage” (69).

In another challenge to Bettelheim’s argument, Dahl refuses to soften his adult antagonists; he instead creates cruel and realistic grown-up characters and relies almost entirely on his child protagonists to overcome this evil: “... the essence of Dahl is his willingness to let children triumph over adults” (Talbot 5). For instance, the deplorable Aunt Spiker and Sponge evoke the stereotypical “false parent” of Bettelheim’s ideal fairy tale, but James’s established independence from positive maternal characters, such as the Lady Bug and the symbolic peach, undermines the need for a “good parent” figure and further advocates the child as an individual. Dahl most blatantly counters Bettelheim in Matilda, in which the cruel characters of the protagonist’s actual parents and headmistress serve as her greatest adversaries. The unapologetic reality of Matilda’s antagonists clearly contradicts Bettelheim, who maintains, “There are quite a few similar modern stories in which the child is more able and more intelligent than the parent, not in never-never-land, as in the fairy tale, but in everyday reality… the ultimate consequences are distrust of the parent on whom [the child] still has to rely, and disappointment- because, contrary to what the story makes him believe, parents remain superior for quite some time” (Bettelheim 134). In fact, Dahl frequently received criticism for his violent illustrations of adults, and many parents and educators have questioned the suitability of Dahl’s literature for the “vulnerable” child. Yet the core of Dahl’s appeal to children is his respect for the child reader and, furthermore, his recognition of the child’s perspective. Children’s literature expert Dieter Petzold defends Dahl:

It is easy to see why some educators object to Dahl’s radical siding with children, which seems to undermine authority and to pander to the children’s natural rebelliousness while missing the opportunity to teach them something about the complexities of real life. Dahl’s answer to such an accusation might well have been that he meant to be “subversive,” and that the purpose of children’s books is to teach their readers not what it really means to be an adult, but how to avoid growing into the kind of adults we see around us daily (191).

Petzold argues that Dahl’s adult antagonists do not perplex the susceptible child, as Bettelheim suggests, but instead establish a recognizable evil which illuminates his mastery of a realistic child’s viewpoint. Dahl’s protagonists challenge the assumed inferiority of children and empower the child reader. The author bridges the clear boundary Bettelheim advocates between the fantastic “evil parent” and the realistic “good parent” and instead strengthens the child as his young protagonists overcome recognizable adult antagonists.

The “two ghastly hags” Spiker and Sponge, serve as both realistic adult antagonists and Bettelheim’s notion of “false parents” (James 6). Dahl again employs hyperbole to illustrate his story’s most palpable evil; the enormously overweight Aunt Sponge is depicted as “a great white soggy overboiled cabbage” and the skeletal Aunt Spiker is apparently “so long and thin/you could carry her in/ and use her for poking the fire” (James 83). Despite his playful depictions of their appalling appearances, Dahl is quite candid about their brutality towards James: “I am sorry to say that they were both really horrible people. They were selfish and lazy and cruel, and right from the beginning they started beating poor James for almost no reason at all” (James 2). The plot departs from convention when the orphan asserts his autonomy rather than awaiting a fairy warden to rescue him. In addition to firmly establishing James’s independence, Dahl vividly depicts the boy’s nurturing behavior towards the peach’s other inhabitants. For instance he frequently reassures his companions when the peach is in danger, particularly the helpless, blind Earthworm: “James went over and put an arm gently around the Earthworm’s shoulders. I won’t let [the seagulls] touch you, he said. I promise I won’t.” (James 65). Moreover James assumes a parental role aboard the ship when he selflessly rescues the Centipede from drowning. This deed epitomizes both James’s new bravery as well as his parental inclination. The absence of a maternal figure forces James to be his own caretaker, an uncommon theme among fairy tales. 

While James strays slightly from the fairy tale “false parent” model, Dahl entirely challenges Bettelheim’s paradigm in Matilda, which provides a cruel satirization of both parental and authority figures. Dahl ruthlessly depicts the inadequacies of Matilda’s real parents: “Matilda’s parents are very much alive, and they appear in a thoroughly negative light” (Petzold 189). In addition to condemning the Wormwoods’ blatant neglect of their remarkable child, Dahl portrays Mr. Wormwood as an obnoxious crook and Mrs. Wormwood as a self-absorbed ditz: “... the parents looked upon Matilda ... as nothing more than a scab ... Mr. and Mrs. Wormwood were both so gormless and so wrapped up in their own silly little lives that they failed to notice anything unusual about their daughter” (Matilda 10). Furthermore, the unpleasant Wormwoods are antagonists within a plainly modern world; Mr. Wormwood is a used car salesman who swindles his customers, and Mrs. Wormwood is far more concerned with bingo than with Matilda: “It seemed that bingo afternoons left [Mrs. Wormwood] so exhausted both physically and emotionally that she never had enough energy left to cook an evening meal. So if it wasn’t TV dinners it had to be fish and chips” (Matilda 55). Both parents are obsessed with television; in fact, the Wormwoods’ notion of “family dinner” is eating from trays in front of the TV. These contemporary vices exemplify the their repugnance. A satire of guardians, Dahl’ offensive Wormwoods are recognizable adult antagonists who distinguish his work from traditional fairy tales.

In this sense, the Wormwoods are perhaps the most realistic antagonists of Dahl’s literature, as the pair undoubtedly typifies plausible parents. Dahl’s comical illustration of the Wormwoods undermines the adult’s assumed superiority and provides an astute critique of negligent parents: “Adult hypocrisy is a hobbyhorse of Dahl’s. He leaves us in no doubt that adult power is often merely an abused function of age, accident, and aggression” (Culley 66). The majority of Dahl’s humor in Matilda is derived from mocking the Wormwoods’ wildly self-absorbed behavior and, moreover, thwarting their parental authority. For instance Dahl’s unfavorable portrayal of Mrs. Wormwood emphasizes adult hypocrisy as well as her false sense of superiority: “Mrs. Wormwood said ... [picking one’s nose] is a nasty habit. If all children had superglue put on their fingers they’d soon stop doing it. Matilda said, Grown-ups do it too, mummy. I saw you doing it yesterday in the kitchen” (Matilda 34). In this example, Dahl aligns Mrs. Wormwood with the “nasty” child and challenges the division between superior adults and inferior children which Bettelheim advocated in Uses of Enchantment. Dahl instead creates a critique of the modern parent, as evident in his snide narrative tone and apparent distaste for the realistic parental figures of the Wormwoods: “[Dahl] acts not only as the companion/narrator, but also as a guide to the surrounding adult world, highlighting particular weaknesses and exposing its hypocrisies” (Culley 66). Dahl’s portrayal of the Wormwoods deviates from the classic didactic fairy tale, as they are plausible adult antagonists who resonate with the modern child.

Dahl further undermines the Wormwoods’ assumed parental superiority in his description of Matilda’s intellectual prowess and subsequent defiance of her parents, another direct contrast to Bettelheim’s suggestion. Matilda outwits her parents in a series of anonymous pranks that drive the opening plot of the novel: she spooks her parents with “a ghost” (a talking parrot she stuffs up the chimney), leaves superglue on her father’s hat so it sticks to his head, and bleaches her father’s hair a sickeningly platinum blonde. Though shrewd, Matilda’s tricks are relatively harmless and always justified reactions to her parents’ behavior: “She resented being told constantly that she was ignorant and stupid when she knew she wasn’t ... She decided that every time her father or her mother was beastly to her, she would get her own back in some way or another” (Matilda 29). Though Matilda’s pranks are a delightfully empowering aspect of the novel, Bettelheim would be quick to condemn Dahl’s portrayal of the Wormwoods: “No traditional fairy tale would rob the child of the needed security he gets from the knowledge that the parent knows better” (Bettelheim 135). Yet Dahl defies Bettelheim and instead upholds the child as a superior entity, which is further solidified in Miss Honey’s perception of Matilda. Miss Honey serves as Dahl’s interpretation of Bettelheim’s “good fairy” figure, though the encouraging yet meek adult admires her student’s intelligence and boldness: “Because of her own unhappy childhood, Miss Honey knows that Matilda’s difficult home situation could easily erode her self-worth, but Matilda does not allow this to happen. It is this inner strength that Miss Honey admires and wishes to emulate” (Dahl 91-92). As suggested by this role reversal, Matilda echoes James in that her impartiality to the idea of a benevolent “good mother” figure and instead indicates a commendable self-reliance. Dahl therefore uses his adult characters, particularly Miss Honey and the Wormwoods, to portray Matilda as a strong, modern protagonist and, in turn, challenge the dichotomy between powerful adults and helpless children.

Dahl’s satirization of adults and his modernization of fairy tale antagonists are undoubtedly exemplified in Miss Trunchbull, who serves as his “giant in green britches” (Matilda 112). Miss Trunchbull’s gruff demeanor and draconian forms of punishment solidify her role as the story’s strongest antagonist. For instance the headmistress’s notion of “time out” is sticking a student in a narrow closet lined with jutting pieces of broken glass, which she fittingly calls “the Chokey.” Frequently referred to as “the Trunchbull,” the vicious “female giant” acts almost entirely in hyperbole: “She hardly ever spoke in a normal voice. She either barked or shouted” (Matilda 85, 168). However, though Dahl frequently associates his antagonist with a physical giant, he grounds the Trunchbull in reality; for instance the headmistress’ enormous stature is accredited to her history as a hammer thrower in the Olympics. Thus quite like the Wormwoods, Miss Trunchbull is far more a realistic satire than a fantastical antagonist, as Petzold affirms, “... the story is by no means a mere fantasy. Matilda’s parents and Miss Trunchbull may not be exactly life-like, but they are only a little larger, and uglier, than life. In other words, they are caricatures, figures made ridiculous through exaggeration” (186). Though the massive Trunchbull certainly evokes the fairy tale giant, her “fantastical” size is perhaps rooted in a small child’s perception of a large adult. The author’s exaggerated antagonists seem to clarify the child’s viewpoint, as George Orwell suggests, “Part of the reason for the ugliness of adults, in a child’s eyes, is that the child is usually looking upward, and few faces are at their best when seen from below” (qtd. in Talbot 2). Subsequently, though the enormous Miss Trunchbull is plainly reminiscent of the fairy tale giant, Dahl’s antagonist provides an acute characterization of a child’s realistic perspective and thus further demonstrates the author’s modernization of the fairy tale story.

The cruel headmistress acts as the complete antithesis of the child. In fact, in addition to frequently voicing her disgust with children, the Trunchbull comically denies that she ever was a child: ““I was never a small person,” [Miss Trunchbull] snapped, “I have been large all my life and I don’t see why others can’t be the same way”” (Matilda 151). Thus Dahl’s antagonization of Miss Trunchbull, a perpetual adult, is further significant in contrast to the noble portrayal of the child throughout the work; Matilda’s brave deeds are coupled with acts of defiance from several other characters. A ten-year-old Hortensia boasts of leaving Golden Syrup on the Trunchbull’s seat and, in a true scene of triumph, an eleven-year-old Bruce Bogtrotter impossibly eats a giant chocolate cake intended to make him sick, which thwarts the headmistress’s plan to ridicule the boy for stealing a single slice. Dahl therefore reverses the division Bettelheim advocates between adults and children and instead suggests the predominance of the child: “Indeed, the book is remarkable for its implausible lack of conflict between children. All of Matilda’s fellow students are polite and sensible, united in their fight against Miss Trunchbull. Of the five adults, two appear in a positive light, but the rest are all the worse for their total lack of any sense whatsoever of a child’s needs and rights” (Petzold 190). This notion of a child’s superiority is strengthened in the conclusion of Matilda, in which the protagonist renders the once-dominant Miss Trunchbull powerless. Matilda therefore outwits her unpleasant parents and overpowers the monstrous Miss Trunchbull, feats which exemplify Dahl’s aims to empower his child protagonist and readers. Dahl undeniably departs from the traditional fairy tale in that he does not reserve his child characters’ triumphs to the fantastical world but instead upholds the child over horrid, realistic adults.

The reality of Dahl’s antagonists is further substantiated in his autobiography, Boy, in which the author addresses his own childhood struggle against authoritative adults. In the work, Dahl’s negative portrayal of his own headmasters explicates his tendency to antagonize authoritative adults and again demonstrates his insight. Dahl uses fantastical words to describe his past and indicate his ability to relate reality to his child readers: “His [autobiographical] books were not only cathartic to him but are of use to children who are, or have been, caught up in similar situations” (Culley 67). Dahl solidifies his understanding of a child’s viewpoint in his articulated fear of his headmasters, who serve as “modern giants” and clearly provide the framework for the figure of Miss Trunchbull: “All grown-ups appear as giants to small children. But headmasters are the biggest giants of all and acquire a marvelously exaggerated stature. It is possible that [my headmaster] was a perfectly normal being, but in my memory he was a giant, a tweed-suited giant” (Boy 40). Dahl’s spin on reality mirrors a child’s highly imaginative viewpoint, as Harris confirms in his study of the imagination: “[C]hildren’s fantasy life is not always tagged in a clear and unequivocal fashion as mere fantasy: the possibilities that have been conjured up begin to be treated as emotionally charged actualities” (Harris 59). Dahl’s ability to fictionalize “actualities” reflects his understanding of the child’s mind. Dahl inserts his reality into his fiction to create modern fairy tales for the contemporary child: “Obviously, terrible Miss Trunchbull is only a slight exaggeration of how little Roald saw (or, rather, how old Roald remembered) his own headmaster at Lllandaff Cathedral School ...” (Petzold 190). The parallel between Dahl’s literal childhood protagonist and Miss Trunchbull suggests a semi-permeability of the boundary between fantasy and reality and consequently indicates the child author’s inherent understanding of a child’s imagination.

Dahl thus clarifies his intent to empower his child protagonists and readers in that he encourages both to stand up to evil adults, who depart from the traditional fairy tale to serve as realistic antagonists. Though James’s aunts Spiker and Sponge are reminiscent of the fairy tale “false parent,” Dahl counters Bettelheim’s argument to uphold James as his own caretaker who establishes his independence from symbolically maternal figures. However, Dahl entirely departs from the “false parent” model in Matilda, which mocks Matilda’s actual parents to provide a cruel satire of modern, negligent parenting. Additionally, the novel mimics the fairy tale figure of the giant in the authoritative adult antagonist of Miss Trunchbull yet maintains a realistic awareness of the child’s exaggerated perspective of the adult. That Dahl’s heroine easily overpowers these realistic adult antagonists further challenges the assumed separation between the superior adult and inferior child and consequently counters Bettelheim’s argument. Dahl clarifies the “reality” of his modern giant in his autobiography, in which he draws obvious parallels between Miss Trunchbull and his intimidating childhood headmasters. The author therefore employs fantasy to describe reality and creates recognizable adult antagonists who indicate realistic evils, as Dahl’s illustrator, Quentin Blake, confirmed, “People who criticize [Dahl] don’t see that even the real people are simply ogres and witches” (qtd. in Culley 63). Dahl clearly mimics yet modernizes the traditional fairy tale to illustrate child heroes who prevail over the “ogres and witches” of the recognizable world; in turn, the author inspires child readers to find their own independence from intimidating adults.§

Works Cited
Bettelheim, Bruno. Uses of Enchantment. New York, NY: Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1976.
Culley, Jonathon. “Roald Dahl — “It’s About Children and It’s for Children” — But Is It Suitable?” Children’s Literature in Education, Vol. 22, No. 1 (1991): 59-73.
Dahl, Roald. Boy: Tales of Childhood. New York, NY: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1984.
Dahl, Roald. James and the Giant Peach. New York, NY: Puffin Books, 1996.
Dahl, Roald. Matilda. New York, NY: Puffin Books, 1988.
Petzold, Dieter. “Wish-fulfillment and Subversion: Roald Dahl’s Dickensian Fantasy.
Matilda.”Children’s Literature in Education, Vol. 23, No. 4 (1992): 185-193.
Talbot, Margaret. “The Candy Man: Why Children Love Roald Dahl’s Stories-and Many Adults Don’t.” Internet. (July 11 2005.) Available: http://www.newyorker.com/archive/2005/07/11/050711crat_atlarge?currentPage=1#ixzz0k3zyuJhh. April 2010.
West, Mark I. Roald Dahl. New York, NY: Twayne Publishers, 1992.

Further Reading
Rudyard Kipling, The Jungle Book
William Golding, Lord of the Flies
Jack Zipes, Breaking the Magic Spell:Radical Theories of Folk and Fairy Tales