Elisabeth

De Sade’s name has become synonymous with sexual sadism even for those who have absolutely no idea of the content and context of de Sade’s work.
To dismiss his work simply because it is often horrifying is to give in to “antiquated virtue.” To read it for no other reason than the fact that it is horrifying isn’t any better.
Literature is constantly pushing boundaries, finding new ground, and challenging its readers to think. De Sade found undiscovered countries with his writing, not because of its grotesque aspects, but because it speaks to something deep inside all of us, something primal and terrifying, that many people don’t want to believe exists, much less acknowledge.

Fairy tales, especially the original versions, give us hope that despite the horrible things that we may endure throughout our lives, things will work out for the best in the end. Though most of the stories in our common lexicon come from a Judaeo-Christian, European source, they also employ the distinctly Eastern idea of karma: what goes around comes around.
Even in the Disney-fied versions, especially the early movies, the villain often comes to a violent end: the queen in Snow White falls off a cliff, and Maleficent in Sleeping Beauty is killed in her dragon form. Even Ursula in The Little Mermaid is run through by the prow of a sunken ship. Violence is and always has been a large part of our culture, and this fact was especially true in the extremely dangerous world that the stories originated in.
To gloss over and pretty up fairy tales is to do a disservice to the stories and to the people who watch them in their film versions. I’m certainly not advocating violence for its own sake, but fairy tales are more than just stories. They’re lessons, and to take away an integral part of those stories is to take away the wisdom that we can learn from them.

The true success of a character, whether in film or prose, depends on how well the audience can identify with that character. Shrek, Belle, and Daffy are all odd or outcasts because they don’t follow the traditional model of what a hero/heroine is and how he or she interacts with the world.
How many of us can really identify with Cinderella and her fairy godmother or Ariel who wins the heart of her prince simply because of how well she sings? We want to be Ariel and Cinderella, but we know deep down we never will be, We can, however, identify with Shrek and Belle who win their respective prince/princess because of who they are, not because of magical intervention or love at first sight, and we can see in them pieces of ourselves.
While Daffy isn’t a hero, acting as more of a foil for the more popular Bugs, we identify with Daffy because we see in him things that we recognize in ourselves: anger, jealousy, and the overwhelming desire to best a rival who always wins. Daffy also stays true to himself, and even though he never “wins,” he also never gives up.
That their character traits are conveyed by simple actions–Shrek’s walk, Belle’s constant struggle with her hair, the expressiveness of Daffy’s eyes–emphasizes that the little details are the ones that are the most important and what make a character truly real.