Cinderella at 80, Part 2 — The Ancient Roots of a Modern Fairy Tale
- Roman Mykyta
- Nov 17
- 6 min read
Updated: Nov 18
Eighty years ago, in the midst of a world at war, Sergei Prokofiev brought to life one of ballet’s most unforgettable heroines — Cinderella. In his hands, a familiar fairy tale became a story of resilience, grace, and hope.
In this five-part series, I revisit Cinderella as both artist and admirer — tracing her journey from ancient myth to the stage, through landmark productions, and finally to the ways she continues to inspire movement and creativity in my own work.
Adapted from a compilation of my own research, writing, and choreographic exploration, this series celebrates the cultural, musical, and personal legacy of Prokofiev’s masterpiece.
Join me in honoring eight decades of transformation, beauty, and magic.
Cinderella at 80: The Ancient Roots of a Modern Fairy Tale
Before Prokofiev set Cinderella to music, before ballet stages worldwide danced her story, Cinderella lived in the hearts and imaginations of countless cultures. Her tale has evolved over centuries, blending folklore, myth, and moral lessons into a narrative that is both timeless and universal. To understand why the ballet resonates so deeply, we need to trace the story back to its earliest roots.
From China to Europe: The Tale Travels
The earliest written versions of Cinderella appear in 9th-century China, though the story likely predates the surviving manuscripts. This version emphasizes virtue, patience, and cleverness, with Cinderella’s rise from adversity reflecting both cultural and spiritual ideals. One iconic element — the slipper that only fits the heroine — may have originated here, symbolizing uniqueness, fate, and the eventual recognition of merit.
As the story migrated westward, it absorbed local customs, legends, and moral frameworks, evolving in ways that reflected each region’s values. In Biblical texts and throughout the Mediterranean, variations emerged that highlighted familial conflict, divine intervention, and poetic justice. The recurring image of an oppressed young woman, often mistreated by older siblings or cruel family members, became a universal motif — a narrative throughline that transcended geography and time.
This cross-cultural continuity also echoes in biblical archetypes. Cain and Abel represent the tension between a more pious younger sibling and a stronger, less virtuous elder. The story of Jacob and Esau offers a similar dynamic: Jacob, though the younger and seemingly subordinate brother, gains the birthright through foresight and diligence and
secures his father’s blessing while in disguise. Cinderella likewise, despite her subjugation, develops industrious virtues that make her worthier than her sisters and wins the prince’s heart while veiled in her transformed persona. Jacob later faces Esau’s anger yet ultimately finds reconciliation; similarly, Cinderella’s sisters continue to hinder her, but once she becomes queen, she chooses compassion over retribution. Joseph, too, is persecuted by his brothers yet rises to power. Cinderella’s narrative parallels these arcs: though oppressed, she cultivates virtue, earns her reward, and ascends through grace — not by luck alone, but through character, resilience, and moral integrity.
Mythical Parallels: Psyche and Eros
A similar set of motifs appears in classical mythology, most vividly in Lucius Apuleius’s tale of Eros and Psyche.Another early precursor to the Cinderella narrative, the story is steeped in mysticism and recounts the union of Psyche and Eros — whose names translate to “soul” and “love.” Its atmospheric elements resonate not only with traditional Cinderella stories but also with scenes that have become staples in the ballet. As in Cinderella, the natural and supernatural worlds cooperate to guide the heroine toward her beloved. Psyche is carried by the personified West Wind to Eros’s hidden castle, where she is tended by invisible, disembodied servants who anticipate her every need.
A comparable interplay of earthly and otherworldly aid shapes Cinderella’s journey. In Perrault’s version, her Fairy Godmother transforms natural objects — a pumpkin, mice, rats, and lizards — into emblems of magical possibility. In the Grimm Brothers’ telling, Cinderella visits her mother’s grave beneath a tree she planted and watered with her tears; there she prays and expresses her wishes, and her mother’s soul intercedes through the actions of birds. The parallels extend to the trials each heroine faces. Psyche is commanded by Aphrodite to sort a mound of mixed grains, an impossible task mirroring the Stepmother’s demand that Cinderella sort lentils from ashes. Yet both are aided by the natural world: ants assist Psyche, and birds come to Cinderella’s aid. In both stories, harmony with nature becomes a defining virtue — a trait emphasized repeatedly across folklore, literature, and performance.
Modern retellings have continued to draw on this motif. Disney’s 1950 and 2015 films express Cinderella’s affinity with nature through their anthropomorphic animal characters, while the ballet expands the theme throug
h the Fairy Godmother’s retinue of the four seasonal fairies. Notably, Cinderella’s transformation scene is almost always staged outdoors, enveloped in an atmosphere of mystery and the promise of miraculous change. Her final destination, however, is the prince’s castle — a space that, following the logic of the Psyche myth, should possess an otherworldly aura akin to Eros’s divine palace. Perrault and the Grimm Brothers describe this realm with intentional distance, giving it a sense of sacred solemnity; Disney’s 1950 film captures this effect, while the 2015 version leans more heavily into romantic chemistry. Prokofiev’s score, especially in the moment of Cinderella’s arrival at the palace, shifts into an ethereal, almost spiritual register — a dimension that the strongest choreographic interpretations likewise embrace.
One final parallel binds the two narratives. In both, love blossoms while identities are concealed: Psyche encounters Eros without ever seeing his face, and Cinderella enchants the prince while masked in magical finery. Each couple faces a subsequent trial, rooted in the idea that “love cannot exist without trust.” Their journeys culminate in reunion through mutual recognition — a theme explored with profound depth in C. S. Lewis’s Till We Have Faces. This thematic strand became a central inspiration for my own choreographic work Cinderella Abstraction, including its climactic excerpt Unmasked. I will return to this connection later on.
Perrault and the Grimm Brothers: Western Codifications
By the 17th century, Cinderella had taken on the familiar form known in the West today, thanks largely to Charles Perrault. His version, published in 1697 as part of Tales of Mother Goose, introduced the iconic Fairy Godmother, the pumpkin carriage, and the magical transformation, as well as a moral underpinning: grace and kindness surpass mere beauty or wealth. Perrault’s Cinderella is not just fortunate; she is virtuous, compassionate, and the humble recipient of unexpected grace.
The Grimm version of the story was published in several editions through the first half of the 19th Century. In contrast to Perrault, they are written in a more romantic style. Notably the action is less polite and more full bodied; the action is felt with the glands, not just the mind. The romanticism also emphasizes that strain of spirituality, which seems most at home out-of-doors. Both traditions, however, reinforced the same fundamental theme: virtue, patience, and hope are rewarded.
Cinderella in the Ballet: A Synthesis of Traditions
When Prokofiev and his collaborators created Cinderella for the Bolshoi in 1945, they drew upon this rich tapestry of stories. The libretto incorporated elements from Perrault’s elegance, the Grimm Brothers’ earthy realism, and the mythic qualities of Psyche and Eros. Cinderella became a character who could be both grounded and magical, someone whose journey was emotionally accessible yet theatrically grand.
The ballet also emphasized visual symbolism. Outdoor scenes, such as the garden or the transformation under the Fairy Godmother’s guidance, evoke mystical realms where the impossible becomes tangible. The palace represents a heavenly or elevated domain, where Cinderella’s virtue and perseverance are recognized and rewarded. By connecting the natural and supernatural, the ballet reflects the layered history of the tale itself — from myth to folklore to literary codification.
Cultural Universality: Why Cinderella Endures
Cinderella’s universality lies in its timeless truths. Across centuries, her story has been interpreted in ways that reflect local culture and moral philosophy. In China, the narrative emphasized cleverness and destiny; in Europe, virtue and grace; in mythology, spiritual and emotional growth. Each iteration retained the core elements: hardship, virtue and transformation.
This is the reason why the ballet continues to resonate. Audiences can recognize themselves in Cinderella’s struggles, her yearnings, and her moments of triumph. Whether watching the Bolshoi premiere, Ashton’s Royal Ballet staging, or Ratmansky’s contemporary reinterpretation, viewers connect with the timeless narrative because its archetypes — the oppressed heroine, the magical helper, the discerning prince — transcend geography and epoch.
Lessons from the Story’s Journey
By understanding its ancient roots, we appreciate not just the beauty of the choreography or the brilliance of Prokofiev’s score, but the narrative resilience that has allowed Cinderella to endure across millennia.
As we celebrate the 80th anniversary of Prokofiev’s Cinderella, we honor a story that is simultaneously ancient and modern, local and universal, simple and profound. Her tale of hope, perseverance, and transformation reminds us that fairy tales are not merely entertainment: they are vessels of wisdom, morality, and imagination, capable of inspiring each new generation.
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