Don't kiss the frog

July 6^th marked International Kissing Day, which didn’t really affect my daily routine in any substantial way, except that my usual Facebook feed of angry political commentary, inspirational yoga quotes and puppy content was perceptibly interspersed with chap stick ads, kiss-blowing selfies and the well-meaning encouragement (in variations) that I, too, will find my Prince Charming if I just don’t give up on kissing frogs. Here's why I take issue with this saying and the wealth of popular commentary, advice books, and dating manuals it has inspired.

Otto Ubbelohde, Der Froschkönig, ca. 1900. Picture found here.

Without having collected any quantitative data to back up this daring hypothesis, I would assume that most people, if asked spontaneously, will name the following source as the origin of this pervasive kiss-the-frog mentality: The fairly tale The Frog Prince by Brothers Grimm. Secondly, I also presuppose that most people will be able narrate its central plot, at least in broad strokes: A young and beautiful princess (and aren’t they all beautiful) comes across a magical frog who was cast with a spell by a bad witch (and aren’t they all bad). Only the kiss of a real princess can transform him back into the handsome royal lad he used to be. After many expressions of disgust and/or much negotiation, the princess agrees to supply the kiss and – boom – a knight in shining armor appears before her, whom she readily agrees to marry. And they lived happily ever after etc. etc. 

Disney's princess Tiana kissing the frog. Picture found here.

Disney, among others, embellished the story considerably in its 2009 musical fantasy film The Princess and The Frog, but the essence remains the same in most popular renderings: It is the kiss, signifying true love, devotion and the ability to see past the frog’s appalling exterior, which will propel his metamorphosis and bring to the surface that which had to remain hidden for this very love to evolve. Love requires sacrifice and the ability to rid oneself of superficiality and ulterior motives – at least on part of the princess. The kiss, then, is also the ultimate test of faith: Only if the princess believes in the transformative powers of the kiss and the existence of a dashing prince underneath the frog’s warts and is willing to overcome her disgust will she be rewarded by his very reification.

Except that in the original story by the Brothers Grimm, there is no kiss whatsoever. 

As Annette Tietenberg demonstrates in her article “Küssen als Fehlschluss: Anmerkungen zum Mysterium des Froschkönigs” (trans. “Kissing as False Conclusion: Notes on the Mystery of the Frog Prince”, in Querformat 5/2012), most popular renderings of the Grimm fairy tale seem utterly oblivious of the fact that the original transformation from frog to prince is not owed to demonstrations of affection, but a rather violent act of female empowerment. 

In the original story (Kinder- und Hausmärchen, 1812), we do encounter a young and beautiful princess, but she’s far from the selfless, Disneyfied heroine of today’s self-help manuals and lipstick commercials. As the only heiress to a large and wealthy kingdom, she’s trapped in ennui and spends her days playing aimlessly with a golden ball which, you might have guessed it, promptly falls into a nearby well. The princess, being the spoiled brat she is, starts to cry, at which point a frog appears, whom she tries to bribe into recovering her beloved toy by offering her jewels, her clothes, and even her crown. The frog, however, simply longs to be her friend and companion, he wants to be loved and share her life. The princess half-heartedly agrees to everything he asks her to, as long as she gets her beautiful golden ball back. The frog keeps his part of the deal, but the princess refuses to accept him as her companion at the table and in “her satin bed” until her father, the king (hello, patriarchy personified!) reminds her that “a promise is a promise and must be kept!” (and may I remind my readers that initial consent can be withdrawn at any time). So the frog gets to enter the princess’s chamber and as he insists on sleeping in her bed, the magical moment happens – which is indeed very physical, but not *quite* as affectionate as the frog (and current interpretations) would have it. 

A very ambitious princess at target practice. Picture found here.

What the princess actually does – and trust me, that’s the part you gonna love – is that she becomes really cross and throws the animal “with all her might” against the nearest wall, yelling: “Now leave me in peace, you ghastly frog!” (Here’s the German original: "[…] ward sie erst bitterböse, holte ihn herauf und warf ihn aus allen Kräften wider die Wand: ‘Nun wirst du Ruhe geben, du garstiger Frosch.’”). You may understand, dear reader, why I felt an irresistible urge to mumble “You go girl!” when reading this passage. 

But I digress – the story actually does end with a transformation, as the frog falls from the wall as a prince with “beautiful and friendly eyes”, whom the princess eventually marries. So yes indeed, the moment of rejection and simultaneous self-assertion fuels the happy ending of the story! In that sense, the princess not only re-affirms her integrity and selfhood by ridding herself of an unwanted suitor, but also rebels against her father’s authority with actual violence – now imagine this scenario depicted as an animated version for ages 6 to 12. 

All things considered, this seems to me a much more positive role model for self-assured, confident dating than the princess who initially recoils in disgust, but eventually overcomes her repulsion to make her quivering lips touch the frog's wet and cold skin, all in the name of this elusive thing called ‘Love’ and the implied promise of a prince down the line. Don’t get me wrong, I’m as a sex-positive as the next third-wave feminist and this is surely no twisted attempt at slut-shaming: Don't hold back your glorious kisses whenever you see fit – but don’t necessarily waste them on someone who you don’t feel deserves nor reciprocates your affection, your love, or even only your sex in the first place, in the hope of him maybe, perhaps, possibly becoming more deserving of it eventually. Spoiler: He probably won’t, because in contrast to actual frogs who start their lives as tadpoles until they morph into land-living adults, human beings are rather resistant to change, both in themselves and in others. 

Even a real prince can be quite the frog. Picture found here.

While I wouldn’t *always* recommend the sort of violent response the princess had to resort to, I do feel that if you really want to take away a chunk of advice from a folk story written by two straight white males more than two-hundred years ago (and orally transmitted for a period dating even further back), it should be the following: Don’t ever feel compelled to kiss the frog, whether you’re bound by promise, fatherly advice, patriarchal expectations, societal convention, or your own hopes and expectations. If in doubt, self-assertion is preferable to self-abandonment, even if and especially when the latter happens for the sake of a wet and soggy kiss. 

Also note that the final moment of triumph is very much the result of the princess’s lengthy, cathartic development: Only after much hesitation and many concessions to both her father’s and the frog’s will (she does let him eat from her plate, she does let him enter her chamber) has she finally found the strength and confidence to ignore both their wishes – and it is exactly in the very moment she listens to and acts on her own feelings (which are, rather bluntly, pure anger and disgust) that the transformation is miraculously initiated, rewarding her with a groom of her own choosing. This groom being, of course, only the icing on the cake: The princess doesn’t throw the frog against the wall because she wants him to transform. Rather, this act of violence is her only resort to escape from a situation and a person (or animal) that undermines herself and her wishes, as she eventually seems to realize. 

So don’t stress if you’re not there yet and feel frustrated with your inability to walk away from the frogs in your life (disclaimer: I’m sooo not there): Your moment of fervent, all-consuming, wall-throwing, self-assertive anger is yet to come. Let us relish it thoroughly!

Picture found here.