This is my first ever book review of a children's book. It's also a long mommy blogging-ish post, so feel free to skip it unless you are interested in how this fat feminist is parenting her SuperHeroPrincess.

Last week, I arrived at the library with SuperHeroPrincess in tow just before closing, trying to find a book about Mexico for 4-year-olds. Harder than it sounds. As I was looking for the books (with the help of the awesome librarian), SHP was playing on the computer (or most of the time, waiting for her turn to play on the computer). Just as we were leaving, she announces that she wants a book about princesses, and I don't have time to do a search, so I scour the shelves looking for something suitable. She settles on a book with a sparkly T-Rex on the cover about a quartet of dinosaurs who go trick-or-treating, and I find The Princess Knight, by Cornelia Funke and illustrated by Kerstin Meyer.
I settle in to read it to SHP while she is in bed, after the T-Rex who trick-or-treats, and find that I love it. SHP is interested, to be sure, but I'm reading it to see what happens next.
By about page 3, the queen dies. Usually, I'm not keen on stories in which this happens, but SHP has already been exposed to her share of stories when the queen dies (Snow White, Cinderella), and in the books we've read where this happens, it's glossed over, and on we go with the story.
In The Princess Knight, the king is draped over the pale queen's body, a nursemaid holding the tiny baby girl. It's a sad picture, to be sure, and it has prompted questions. But I think these are important questions. She's asked before about the queen in Snow White, but the illustration here prompted more in-depth questions.
SHP hasn't yet been exposed to death personally, the closest she's come in real life is hearing about the death of a neighbor's grandfather. But she does read about death, and pretend to kill and die when she is engaged in play, and I think it's time she began to understand a bit more about this.
When she asked why the queen died, what I said was, it used to be that when babies were born, sometimes their mother died, but this hardly ever happens any more.
"Why?"
"Because we have midwives and doctors and better care for moms when they are pregnant."
I didn't go into how in some contries, there are still many moms who die when their babies are born. I did remind her that it's not what happened when she was born.
She asked about the king being sad, and I told her that the king missed his wife, the queen.
"Why?"
"Well, when a person dies, they aren't in their body anymore."
Lucky for me (because I was very tired in that moment), she didn't ask the next logical question, which is, "where do they go when they aren't in their body anymore?"
I do have an answer for when that question comes up about my belief about it*. I have no idea if the answer I give will suffice. I'm sure it will need to change as she grows older, and I will definitely want to hear what she thinks about it.
But the first answer was sinking in a bit. Hard to understand, definitely.

We have an aging dog, who I think I have mentioned before, is the best dog in the whole wide world. Sure, you might know a really good dog, and I have known some really good dogs, but our Madamoiselle Marble Rye (not her real name) is the best dog I've ever known. She's 12, past the usual lifespan for her breed, and although deaf, with hypothyroidism she's had since she was about 5 years old,  and some hip pain, she recovered from some non-life-threatening surgery not long ago and is frisky and loving and so great. When we lose her, and she isn't in her body anymore, we will all be extremely sad, and miss her so much. (Yes, I'm crying now.) That's when death will be real for SHP. I hope that it's a long time before anyone else close to her dies. But I do want her to know that when she pretends to be dead (a la Sleeping Beauty) she can also pretend to be kissed back to life by a mom, a dad, or a stand-in prince, but that's not what death really is.

There's a part of me that doesn't like violent play, that includes killing (usually "killing bad guys") but I also know that bad guys (and bad girls) exist, and that I want her to know that if she is attacked, attacking back is an appropriate response (in a proportionate way). We don't own guns. But in The Princess Knight, the king raises his daughter the same way he has raised his sons, to be a knight, and although she struggles to mount a large horse in heavy, outsized armor, she learns to dodge and fight and parry and joust (I'm probably using all of the wrong words here) and she is able to defeat her brothers. I won't tell you what happens in later part of the book, but suffice it to say, there is an ending that SHP and I were both happy with.

After we read it for the third time, SHP asked if we could get her a sword. Several boys in the neighborhood just a bit older than her have play swords and shields, wooden ones. She sees them playing, and has played at being the princess while they are the knights. I'm not really into weaponry, but I'm thinking of maybe locating a nice wooden sword and shield kit. Good for upper body strength. Maybe we need two, so her dad and I can play with her (or at least an extra shield). We could also go to a RenFair -- (I'll have to see where the nearest one is to us) -- both she and her dad would enjoy it.

I've been thinking a lot about her playing at being a princess, and what it means. She wore her Sleeping Beauty costume (just the dress, not the tiara and heels, thankfully) to the park last night to play, and she did attract a fair amount of attention from other kids she didn't know, and immediately got cast in the role of princess in their play. It's an identity she can slip into. She's never had a blankie, or a pacifier, or another loved object, but she has shown attachment to items of clothing from time to time, such as a favored fuzzy jacket (luckily, living in the Pacific Northwest, it was rarely too warm for her to wear it). These days, she's starting to understand that she has "dress-up dresses" and "school dresses" -- and that she can't wear the "dress-up dresses" to her new preschool.

I think that what it means to be a princess is to be a daughter growing up with privilege, and inheriting some amount of power from that privilege, and learning how to manage that power. SHP is, as strangers tell her, beautiful. She is also small for her age, strong for her size, has more than everything she needs, is surrounded by loving adults and a caring community. Even thus far, it hasn't been a pristine path for her, but in many, many ways, she is privileged. And I want her to understand that with power comes responsibility (and not just Spiderman gummy candies). She is at least equal parts SuperHero and Princess. She likes to lead. She could stand to learn more grace, to share her gifts more (I know there is time), and to use her power for good, and not evil. She is mortal, divine, human, magical, special and ordinary. I often feel like I can't get enough of her. When people told me a few months ago that "this was a fun age" I nodded but thought, "Fun?!? Exhausting!" but now I see what they mean. It is fun to be around her, her silliness, wildness, limitlessness, expansiveness.

She could use a sword AND a shield. And a princess dress to wear under her armor. Maybe we can glue a tiara to a safety helmet for her?

* Here's what I think I'll say: When people die, they aren't in their bodies anymore. They can't move, or talk, or do the things we usually do. But they aren't gone altogether. We carry them with us. In our memories, in our thoughts, and in our bodies. We are all made up of the same stuff -- stuff that a long time ago came from stars. And the stuff from those stars made up the earth, and sun, and moon, and planets. And the earth was just right for the stuff to come together to make the first plants, and animals, and dinosaurs, and mammals, and eventually, over a really, really long time, people. And when each of those plants and animals and dinosaurs and mammals and people died, their bodies went back into the earth, which then became soil for more plants to grow, and animals to eat those plants, and people to eat plants and animals, and everybody gets recycled that way. But our thoughts, and how we treat each other, and how we love each other, that lives on in how other people think, and feel, and live. Okay, now I'm crying again.

Jon Robison, PhD, MS, will be offering a workshop and closing presentation at the Healthy Worksite Summit in Bellevue, Washington, on October 8, 2009. The workshop is titled "Weight Loss at The Workplace: A Smart Investment in Tough Economic times…or Money Down The Toilet?" He's also presenting the next day at the Summit in Spokane, Washington.
Visit his website for other upcoming events where Dr. Robison will be presenting.