This was a fun, steamy romp with a side of sexy subversion. It was an anthology I didn’t know existed until I came across it on my Libby one day and absolutely had to read it. (Shameless plug for the Queer Liberation Library—you can sign up for a card for free if you have an address in the United States!) The concept is simple: a collection of sapphic fairy tales by a variety of authors, some adapted from old favorites like Rumpelstiltskin or Cinderella, and some wholly new.
Witches, Princesses, and Women at Arms embraces the genre of the fairy tale in all its forms. There’s the long-lost princess, returning to claim her rightful throne; fated soulmates who communicate on the wind; prophecies that, in an attempt to thwart them, inevitably come true. It’s refreshing to read stories—most told in traditionally fairy tale style—with sapphic relationships at the center. I would say they remind me of the stories I read growing up, and they do—until the erotica, that is.
The writers of these stories find spaces (expertly, for the most part) between the tropes that govern fairy tales: namely, of a heterosexual main couple and a decidedly erotica-free storyline. They manage to surprise and delight in the niche they carve out for themselves.
That isn’t to say that I enjoyed every single story. In fact, there was one that stood out to me as nearly impossible to read because I found it so incredibly overwritten. “SWF Seeks FGM” by Allison Wonderland is obsessed with its own cleverness and is determined to shove as many references and wordplays as is physically possible into a several-page story. On the first page, we get these lines: “In spite of my bad reputation, I made him think my moniker was a misnomer. Damn, I’m good. So when he proposed marriage, I accepted. After all, if I put my mind to it, I could chateau the line.” I could go on, because nearly every paragraph is as tortured as this. If overwrought and self-indulgent witticisms are your thing, though, this will be a favorite.
The anthology as a whole, though, was defined much more by the stories I did enjoy, which were often fun and inventive with a strong and engaging voice. Some, like Lea Daley’s “The Sorceress of Solisterre,” which finishes out the collection, are absolutely classic fantasy worlds: political intrigue, monarchy, scheming prime ministers, wizards and sorcerers, unsuitable suitors, and turning men into rats. Others, like the anthology editor Saachi Green’s “Trollwise,” imagine worlds with complex magical systems and innovative characters.
This book can easily be a quick, steamy read for lovers of fantasy and sapphism. But if you’re an overthinker like me, this anthology might get at something deeper. It’s common to talk about “healing your inner child,” part of the therapy-speak that has pervaded online spaces in recent years. While the work of getting in touch with your younger self is important for everyone, it feels especially relevant to queer spaces. When your younger self grew up in the context of heteronormativity, reading a book where you can get in touch with your sexuality while subverting the norms of the “damsel in distress” can be a revelation.
I was lucky enough to be raised by very accepting parents (and lesbian grandmas to boot!), but mainstream culture was severely lacking in sapphic representation when I was growing up. We might all, therefore, have a tiny hole in our hearts in the shape of this book, yearning for us to rewrite those heteronormative fairy tales with a little queer magic. That’s a little dramatic, but it has a kernel of truth – like most fairy tales.
Content warnings: violence, sexual content
Emilia Ferrante is a book-lover and writer living in Paris studying to get her Master’s degree. She is the co-host of Sapphink, a sapphic English-language book club, and loves crocheting, going on walks, and listening to the rain.
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