Princesses Behaving Badly: Real Stories from History Without the Fairy-Tale Endings

• by Linda Rodriguez McRobbie
• published by Quirk Books (2013)
• Roar score: 3/5

Nowadays, princess obsession is the default setting for many little girls.

Confession time. I don’t really have anything against the Disney princesses. I know it’s fashionable nowadays to hate on them and the corporate machine pushing that particular brand of princess play. Yes, I wish it weren’t so obviously pandering to young girls’ base instincts to be “pretty” and “popular.” And yes, I wish there were a bit more power given to the princesses instead of just pink pink pink all the time.

Here’s the thing, though. The Disney Princess machine and its many clones and copycats aren’t the only game in town. Young girls don’t need to be confined to the pink aisles of the toy store. There isn’t a shortage of other characters in literature, movies, TV, and—gasp!—real life to inspire young girls. Powerful, inspiring female characters in pop culture aren’t exactly the norm (yet), but they’re not entirely absent either.

Does Zoey, at 5 years old, like the Disney princesses? Sure. She’s got her Mulan and Elsa dolls, and we had to wait in line at the Magic Kingdom’s Princess Fairytale Hall with everyone else. But does she have a “princess obsession”? Hardly. We own The Little Mermaid and Cinderella (and quite a few more) on Blu-ray, but if given the choice, Zoey will choose a Studio Ghibli film (notorious for strong female leads) nine times out of ten.

She’s not a tomboy. She’s just a girl who likes everything. And she’s not alone.

This brings me to Princesses Behaving Badly, a relatively new book from Linda Rodriguez McRobbie. Her book is ostensibly a response to the prevalence of princess worship in modern culture, and McRobbie argues that

Though no direct evidence supports claims that the ubiquitous princess culture harms girls’ self-esteem, it seems to me that the phenomenon smacks of an unjustified sense of entitlement, a kind of fake power derived not from good decision-making skills or leadership or intelligence but physical attractiveness, wealth, and relationships with strong male characters. “Princess” is a title that establishes bizarre expectations of how one should be treated, of what has value, and of what women will or should achieve in their lives.

How does she go about countering these unrealistic expectations? By sharing stories of princesses, well, behaving badly. The book is a compilation of brief vignettes about the lives of various princesses who didn’t conform to the traditional notion of what a princess should be. The women described in these pages are liars, killers, traitors, or flat-out insane. They are excessively irresponsible, bloodthirsty, promiscuous, vindictive, and destructive. McRobbie classifies them into one of seven (broad) categories: warriors, usurpers, schemers, survivors, partiers, floozies, and madwomen.

In other words, most of these women are not nice people; they’re not role models in even the slightest sense. Included among them are “the princess who slaughtered her way to sainthood” and “the princess who partied for Hitler.” Some of the more colorful stories are those about “the princess who kept male concubines in drag” and “the princess who threw a sex party.”

So why does McRobbie devote an entire book to these unsavory characters? She claims that “Perhaps the best way to make sure that the fairy tale doesn’t become the expectation is to talk about real princesses and to stop turning their lives into fairy tales.” I get that this is a book about princesses who break the mold and don’t fit the modern stereotype. They’re women you can point to and say, “See? Not all princesses have fairy-tale lives. Look at these intolerable women. They’re princesses…and they’re horrible!”

That’s all well and good, but many of these women aren’t given any redeeming qualities. The pendulum has swung completely to the other side, and we’re given polar opposites of Cinderella and Snow White. The book covers a lot of ground and discusses a lot of princesses—thirty are important (and in-depth) enough to merit inclusion in the table of contents, but many more are included. However, most of the rest only get the briefest of mentions—a page or two in some instances.

With that much ground to cover in a relatively short book, we’re bound to only scratch the surface on any one person. I did find myself wanting to learn more about some of them, most notably Caraboo (Mary Baker), or “the phony princess who hoodwinked England.” (The book includes a decent bibliography with suggestions for further reading, and it’s organized by princess, which is nice.) But by the end, it felt like we kept retreading the same gossipy ground.

What would I have liked to see? First, some examples of princesses breaking the stereotype in positive ways would’ve been nice. What about princesses who weren’t content with a passive life and instead fought for a cause? Princesses who used their intelligence to their advantage? Princesses who schemed and usurped for a positive end? Second, it would’ve been nice to see more variety. Of the 30 women given their own sections, only 6 hail from outside Europe. Surprisingly, Japan—with a history of princesses and empresses going back two millennia—isn’t represented at all.

What would I really like to see? A book or series of books on this (or a very similar) topic aimed at kids. McRobbie’s book is certainly not kid-friendly, as many of the stories are full of grisly violence and wanton sex (sometimes at the same time). However, a book marketed to kids that “reveals” the true stories behind many real-life princesses would be amazing. If we really want to counter the Disney Princess juggernaut, these alternative versions of real-life princesses need to be presented directly to young girls. Note to the publisher: if you’re interested, you know where to find me.

A few weeks ago, Zoey and I were in the toy section of Target. This is always a drawn-out affair since she needs to check out every aisle. A couple other girls, perhaps 9 or 10 years old, came running through and were appalled at all of the superhero action figures and Lego sets there were. We overheard one of them complain, “Where are the girl toys?” Zoey turned to me and asked, “Don’t they know that there’s no such thing as girl toys and boy toys?”

Young girls deserve more. Maybe Zoey should give a TED talk about the irrelevance of gendered toys? Added to the list.

Verdict? The book is a good introduction to many real women who have all but disappeared from history and a decent response to the unrealistic expectations of the modern princess marketing machine. It’s not kid-friendly, but the seeds are here for some high-quality discussions and avenues of exploration with your young’uns.