The Briar Rose

The story of Little Briar Rose (aka Sleeping Beauty) is representative of the change in seasons. In many of the familiar tales, a king invites fairies to the celebration of the birth of his daughter; however, he neglects to invite one fairy, who feeling slighted, becomes enraged at the king’s disregard and curses the young maiden to death. To prevent the tragic end of the child, the other fairies change the curse so that instead of death, she will only be in a deep sleep.
 
Most modern tales talk of 8 fairies—7 good and 1 bad. However, older tales list 13 fairies total. The idea of 13 fairies comes from the cycles of the moon, which is a representation of goddess worship. The Briar Rose, or the Sleeping Beauty herself, is a representation of spring, while the 13th fairy (the wicked one) is her counterpart, winter. Prince Charming’s kiss is much akin to the sun and its warming presence upon the earth, awakening the seeds and dormant vegetation. 

Credits:
Photographer/MUA:  Jeannie Nadja
Model:  Audrey Scully
Wardrobe:  Jeannie Nadja & Audrey Scully

And on her lover’s arm she leant,   
 And round her waist she felt it fold; 
And far across the hills they went       
 In that new world which is the old.    
Across the hills, and far away    
  Beyond their utmost purple rim,    
And deep into the dying day,            
  The happy princess followed him.
​
    “I ’d sleep another hundred years,    
  O love, for such another kiss;”    
“O wake forever, love,” she hears,    
  “O love, ’t was such as this and this.”    
And o’er them many a sliding star,    
  And many a merry wind was borne,    
And, streamed through many a golden bar,    
  The twilight melted into morn.    
“O eyes long laid in happy sleep!”    
  “O happy sleep that lightly fled!”    
“O happy kiss, that woke thy sleep!”    
  “O love, thy kiss would wake the dead!”
And o’er them many a flowing range       
  Of vapor buoyed the crescent bark;     
And, rapt thro’ many a rosy change,       
The twilight died into the dark.     

“A hundred summers! can it be?    
  And whither goest thou, tell me where?”    
“O, seek my father’s court with me,            
  For there are greater wonders there.”    
And o’er the hills, and far away    
  Beyond their utmost purple rim,    
Beyond the night, across the day,    
  Thro’ all the world she followed him.”  

~ The Sleeping Beauty, Lord Alfred Tennyson