Talking Tink...

Assuming her alive at the time you found her, would you be able to carry on a conversation with Tinker Bell? I’m guessing you’re inclined to say “no” because she speaks in the sound of little tinkling bells. No doubt your rationale for this comes from the passage:

“You don’t hear her, do you?” and they both listened.

“The only sound I hear,” said Wendy, “is like a tinkle of bells.”

“Well, that’s Tink, that’s the fairy language. I think I hear her too.”

Some of you might be so inclined as to believe you cannot understand the fairy language. Hearing it the first time, really how could you? Would you be able to understand Swahili when it first entered your ear? (I’ll venture to guess no.) And there’s rationale for this from the book as well:

“Tink,” said Peter amiably, “this lady says she wishes you were her fairy.”

Tinker Bell answered insolently.

“What does she say, Peter?”

He had to translate.

And then: What she said in her lovely tinkle Wendy could not of course understand...

So there we have, right? Only Peter Pan can understand Tinker Bell...

Now hold on a moment! Don’t go zipping to conclusions. Here’s a bit of text regarding the Lost Boys:

“Hullo, Tink,” cried the wondering boys.
Tink’s reply rang out: “Peter wants you to shoot the Wendy.”
It was not in their nature to question when Peter ordered. “Let us do what Peter wishes!” cried the simple boys.

A-ha! So the boys make sense of her bell-voice, too. Before you go arguing that the boys are wont to say such a thing anyway as they are devoted to Peter’s wishes, surely you don’t forget they actually do shoot Wendy down, just as Tink says Peter commands. Obviously it’s not just a regurgitation of an ingrained desire (to obey Pan’s wishes.)

So why is it that the Boys can comprehend her as well as Pan?  Perhaps it’s because they’re in the Neverland and therefore just do?  No, that’s not it.  Good guess, though.  Perhaps they’re magical like Peter himself?   Oh no, that can’t be it.   They’re just not.  Well, then, why?

For the answer, we’ll have to (but of course) look to Barrie’s words again:

“You silly ass!” cried Tinker Bell in a passion.

She had said it so often that Wendy needed no translation.
“I almost agree with her,” Wendy snapped.

When does this occur in the story? Just about the time Wendy is trying to get Peter to declare his real feelings for her. When “playing house” needs to be much more real for her than it seems in the Home Under the Ground. Okay, but how about a more concrete image story-wise?  Surely.  It’s after Pan rescues Tiger Lily. Unlike a play or movie version of the story which must have a rapidity to the adventures the children have on the island, we know that a they’re there for a long time, so the saving of the Redskin princess wouldn’t have been toward the beginning of their trip.

And so we arrive at the simple answer. If you’ve been around Tink for quite some time, would you understand her then?  Yep.

It seems that the fairy language is something that humans can pick up on, if they have enough exposure to it. Which certainly explains why the Lost Boys have no trouble.  For who knows how long they’ve each been on the island?  But we can bet it’s been a while.

Knowing that I’d need the first girl to visit NeverWorld to be able understand Denny (Peter Pan’s ‘new’ fairy) right away in my book, I had to make sure I included a passage about how this could be so.

Of course, Amy could not be described as a normal child, for she understood the fairy language perfectly. She had heard it so many times while passing through Kensington Gardens and in the twilight of slumber that she knew it quite well. Thus, she did not need a translator to converse with the fairy who just spoke to her.

Another easy solution. You see, I happen to know (of course I would) a little about the backstory of Miss Amy Alexis Richards.  In the relevant nutshell, she’s been hunting for fairies and Peter Pan since age five, and does so with more conviction than most summon up [for anything] their whole lives.  It took her a while to finally track down the Darlings’ house, but that’s another story and I digress...

At any rate, talking to Tink is no great feat.  It’s just a matter of paying attention and prolonged exposure. Not unlike any other language, oui?

So why is it that there’s the misconception that only Pan can talk to Miss Bell? That when (erroneously) Captain Hook speaks with her in cahoots, she must pantomime to help get her point across? [Thank you, Disney. (Said with an eye roll.)] Why is it that she rarely talks in the few movies of the tale?  Do we really have an aversion to hearing her speak?  Possibly so, since many protested her being heard in the Disney films about her... and the script drafts of it bounced back and forth as to whether or not she had a “voice.” (Yes, certainly it also had to do with maintaining the Disney animated feature as well.)  And yes, I know a certain actress played Tink and spoke freely in a certain movie named for the priate captain, but I so very pretend that movie doesn't exist.

It baffles me, then, why P.J. Hogan preserved the “silent” pantomiming Tinker Bell as well. Although I do recall learning in the ‘extras’ on the DVD that Hogan (and all) had been entranced by Ludivine Sagnier's facial expressions and clowning as such without words.  But as cute as they may have been, I’d preferred they left the marvelous expressionism as such to Peter Pan, for as I’ve said before, no one makes faces like Jeremy Sumpter!

I’ll tell you... if I’m ever responsible for the mini-series version that rattles around in my head, the way I’d handle Tink’s speech is as follows:  She’s just heard as the jangling at first. But throughout the show, each time she speaks, a whisper of actual words will gradually become louder, almost imperceptible until it’s clear as a well, bell.  Naturally the tinkling sound will always accompany her, but it will be softened and weaker.

So there you have it.

Tinker Bell talks. Why else would she have lines with quotes around them in the book?

Have the Cape and Read It, Too

Time for another “useless secret” regarding an aspect of Peter Pan’s NeverWorld.

In my novel, Peter Pan now wears a capelet, i.e. a small cape. No, Barrie didn’t describe him with one in Peter and Wendy. So where did I get it from - and why did I include it? Even Andrea Jones, author of Hook & Jill, asked me about it during her visit.

Here’s the answer:

Truth be told, I’d rather liked the inclusion of it in Fox’s Peter Pan & the Pirates. It brought an extra certain something special to him, a neat touch out of the routine. But I knew very well that this could not be reason enough to impose it upon the eternal boy. So why else?

As can be expected, one reason for the capelet does in fact come from Barrie. In the original production of Peter Pan, or The Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up, Nina Boucicault’s costume has something draped over Peter’s shoulders. I figured since Barrie had been involved with the show, if he objected to the small cape it would have been removed. Thus, I’d already found just cause for the addition of it in my novel.


But there’s also another reason. The very first public depiction of Peter Pan, it would seem, is art by Charles Buchel from 1904, used to promote the play before any other bit of it had been released. As you can see, Peter Pan is shown with a big flowing cape. It’s a great piece of art, but the big cape is a little much, I think. Yet it does give another reason to have Pan with something over his shoulders.

And there you have it. I really like Pan with the capelet, so I put it in the book. I of course made sure to have a line or two stating that it’s something “new” such as: Luckily she had a knack for catching hold of the capelet he’d taken to wearing.

Later on, as I learned from the recent Peter Pan at Kensington Gardens prodcution in London, it can also serve as a “reminder” of his wings from having been a bird.

My personal “rationale” for it is thus: It’s a given fact that fairies can weave cloth from leaves, as learned in Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens: … a fairy who had been gathering skeleton leaves, from which the little people weave their summer curtains… So for me it only stands to reason that eventually Peter would have clothing made from such an endeavor. (In fact, that’s precisely the case for Peter’s entire outfit in my book.) And even more importantly, I reckon that some of Peter Pan’s “mothers” (descendants of Wendy) would have left their own marks on the Neverland and sewn him some new togs.

Yet in my mind it’s not one of the “mothers” who presented him with the capelet. Nope. I have something else in mind as to where he obtained it. I don't want to reveal that just yet… as I’ve got a scene in mind for another tale on NeverWorld which will explain its appearance. Nothing major, but I think it would be more fun to find out then rather than now.

Lastly, I also knew that even with these“justifications” for the inclusion of a capelet for Pan, I had to have at least one good reason story-wise. I surely do. The lesser of these is quoted up there, when Amy Alexis Richards grabs hold of it as tries to fly away. But there’s a better reason, too. What is it? Why, it’s in the book, of course! ;)

Wendy's Story?

Here’s another all-new musical variation on Peter Pan called Wendy.
It’s done by Jigsaw Theatre Company in Australia.
Not much info is available as of now, for the production is "coming soon." But you can read a little more about it here.
I really like this image of theirs.

The focus here is that Wendy is more of a modern young lady.
Pan with a feminist twist.

Amy Alexis Richards knows this variation quite well. ;)

Pan Inspires Me YET AGAIN...

Thumbing through the play of Peter Pan, a little bit of it leapt out at me. Truthfully I am not as familiar with the play as the novel (as I worked with Pan in that medium) so some of the minor details go out of my head from time to time, much like Pan’s own memory skills. Thus, when perusing, sometimes it’s a big adventure all over again.

The bit that “leapt out” hit the part of me which writes. Suddenly a little trickle of story cried out to be written. Sorry, I’m going to keep which part inspired me a secret, but the passage shows up near the beginning. But I will tell you what it inspired.

I had a vision of the “mother” in Peter Pan’s NeverWorld, Amy Alexis Richards. I explored the possibility of her exploring the possibility of the eternal boy. From my novel, we know that she’s a firm believer in Pan and is quite versed in stories about him. But when did she first hear of the Boy Who Never Grew Up? There had to have been a moment when she encountered the “legend.” Fortunately, Barrie provided the answer. (If I had a moment in mind while writing the book, this new idea supersedes it.)

And so, at some point (although I cannot say when) I will be writing a companion piece to NeverWorld, based around Amy, delving further into her backstory and giving us a richer understanding of her character other than her becoming the latest acquisition to playful motherhood of the Lost Boys. I do not expect it to be novel length. Nor do I envision a short story. Besides what I have said in this post, it seems like a shorter piece cannot do justice to the unfolding events in my head. By the same token, a feature-length seems like overkill for the idea. A novella, perhaps?

My current plans are for it to be an online-only text, one that can be accessed for free. The story will (or should) be able to be read with or without having read Peter Pan’s NeverWorld, enriching the text either way.

I’ll update, of course.

In the meantime, when did YOU first hear of Peter Pan?
And aren’t you curious how it happened for Ms. Richards?