The Bakers Daughter — Intro

Behind the Story

My love of frame stories began around 1989 at Indiana University of Pennsylvania in my Literary Analysis class taught by the incomparable Barbara Kraszewski—far and away one of my favorite professors of all time. Her content specialty may have been English, but she taught me how to be a teacher as much as any instructor in the math department. From her I learned that if I loved what I taught and who I taught, that it would come through in how I taught. (If she’s still around and you happen to know her, please mention me to her!)

One day she opened class by introducing our next reading assignment, Joseph Conrad’s classic novella Heart of Darkness, where Charles Marlow and a group of passengers pass the time in the evening on the deck of a ship waiting in the Thames. Her description of Marlow and his tale was so vivid, so entrancing, I couldn’t wait to rush to my dorm and start the book. In retrospect, there is a chance that her introduction proved more riveting than the book, itself.

Much later I discovered the 1987 movie, The Princess Bride, based on William Goldman’s 1973 book. I loved Fred Savage as the grandson sick in bed for the day and Peter Falk (who I will always see as Columbo) as the grandfather who comes to read a story to the ill child. The kid rejects the idea at first, but then gets wrapped up in the story. Do you remember how the movie ends?

The Grandson: Grandpa, maybe you could come over and read it again to me tomorrow.

The Grandpa: As you wish.

Kind of perfect, huh?

It’s become a family favorite that we have watched and quoted over and over. (“Have fun storming the castle!”)

So, yeah, frame stories have a special place in my heart.

But when I sat down to write “The Baker’s Daughter” and thought about how I wanted to open the story, how I wanted it to be told, it wasn’t either of the two stories above that came to mind. Instead, I thought about my dad’s self-published book Phelatos. In it a grandfather tells the story of Phelatos to a group of grandchildren gathered on the floor. If Dad thinks I ripped him off a little, I hope he takes it as homage and not theft.

As always, thanks for reading,

—phillip