'Too Feminine to Function': Florence Welch and the Fairy Tale Tradition

BY ELEANOR BOWDEN

My obsession with feminism in fairy tales was in full swing by the time I began to notice it in new music, such as Lady Gaga’s MAYHEM, Sofia Isella, and Florence + the Machine’s Everybody Scream. Each of these albums or discographic collections is an interesting expression of these concepts in their own right, but as a collective, they reveal a growing inclination towards folklore, horror, and witchcraft in music as a vehicle for feminist messaging. 

Now, I could talk about this for hours. Maybe weeks. Probably even years. But, as covering every instance of this trend is far beyond the scope of one article, and because Florence + the Machine is and always will be my one true love, this time I will be focusing on Everybody Scream. I argue that Florence Welch’s position as ‘Pop’s High-Priestess’ is akin to that of the conteuses who pioneered fairy tale literature, and that perhaps this new wave of folkloric, witchy references in popular music is the newest manifestation of a historically political genre. 

Shall we dig in?

The term ‘fairy tales’ or ‘les contes des fées’ was coined by Marie-Catherine d’Aulnoy in 1697, explicitly referring to the fairy characters in her stories. D’Aulnoy’s tales drew on a wealth of influences, including myth, folklore, opera, and the socio-political issues facing women in the seventeenth century. As was customary, she shared them in literary salons with other women writers, who constructed worlds in which women, as fairies, possessed the power to direct their lives in a way that the writers themselves did not. As Jack Zipes remarks,

It was only in a fairy-tale realm, not supervised by the Church or the dictates of King Louis XIV, that they could project alternatives that stemmed from their desires and needs… It was in the salons that they shared their tales, forged alliances, exchanged ideas, and came to look upon themselves as fairies.

Now, you might be thinking, ‘What on earth does this have to do with a Florence + the Machine album?’ To that I will say, shush. I’m getting there. Let me cook.

In the Saturday Guardian interview with frontwoman Florence Welch about the album and the pregnancy loss that informed it, Rebecca Nicholson notes that the record is ‘full of witchcraft and fury’. They discuss the sources of Welch’s inspiration from this record, which range from Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Rosemary’s Baby to the medieval mystic Julian of Norwich and the history of witchcraft in relation to pregnancy, birth, and women’s health. Welch remarks, ‘When I was coming up [as an artist], if you created a world and a character, it was, like, “so contrived.” Now, there’s this celebration of people creating imaginative worlds,’ going on to theorise that in the age of social media, doomscrolling, and dopamine addictions, ‘People really need worlds to disappear into.’ In Everybody Scream, Welch certainly creates her own world, drawing on her research and personal interests and allowing herself to become a character of witchcraft, folklore, and mysticism who rages against the difficulties of being a woman in the industry whilst wielding all the power and magnetism of a coven leader. This parallels the manner in which the conteuses of seventeenth century Paris constructed themselves as fairies, imbued with the power to challenge the patriarchal structures of their time.

The tracks in Everybody Scream discuss a wide variety of feminist issues, at once personal to Florence Welch and relatable to the majority of listeners. Everybody Scream, the titular track and opening song, constructs the persona that Welch assumes when she takes to the stage, with the singer asserting, ‘Here I don’t have to be quiet/ here I don’t have to be kind, extraordinary and normal all at the same time,’ constructing a powerful and fairy-like figure. However, though she seems to become a powerful, almost invulnerable character when she takes to the stage, Welch herself is ‘[run] ragged, blood on the stage.’ This refers to a performance during her tour for Dance Fever which resulted in a broken foot, a lot of blood, and delayed tour dates, but only received a 4/5 review—something that she also remarks on in the song, ‘Music by Men’ (it’s just never enough for some people, is it?). The album’s narrative of conflict between the personal and the professional is thereby established immediately, and begins to introduce a question that has been haunting Welch for years: at what point does the sacrifice become too great? Can she really have it all—fulfilling both her professional ambitions and her domestic desires—without destroying herself?

This conflict continues in track 2, ‘One of the Greats’, a seven-minute dramatic monologue which was recorded in one take and which has some of the rawest vocals and guitar tracks I’ve ever heard. The song pulls you in immediately and makes you so furious that it's hard not to start howling at the world’s injustices alongside her. Here, the conflict is more specifically focused on the struggle of being a woman with the ambition ‘to become one of the greats’ in the music industry. In what is easily one of my favourite bridges of all time, Welch’s voice reaches a crescendo, launching into a whirlwind of rage and ambition amidst increasingly fast-paced tracks, declaring, ‘I’ve really done it this time, this one is all mine, I’ll be up there with the men and the ten other women/ and the hundred greatest records of all time.’ It’s easy to see where some fans are coming from when they compare her to the Queen of the Faeries, or the leader of a witch coven. 

Literary and folkloric references recur throughout the record, and are intrinsically linked to depictions of pregnancy, sexuality, and women’s health. ‘Healing is slow, it comes and it goes, a glimpse of the sun then a flurry of snow,’ Welch chants in ‘Perfume and Milk.’ Here, she provides both an autobiographical reference to her own healing process and a more general image of the struggles within any recovery. The witchy and weird are central to this song, with its prominent discussions of herbal medicine, magic and spirituality, and transformative cycles of rot and rebirth. In her utterly fantastic book, Unwell Women, Elinor Cleghorn describes how witch-hunter Heimlich Kramer ‘attested that infant death and miscarriage… [was] the devil working through possessed midwives to slaughter innocents,’ and defined the procuring of an abortion as witchcraft (48). Though the Dominican leaders of the Catholic Church rejected Kramer as ‘an ethically dubious crank’ (48), they promoted marriage and reproductive sex ask ‘a kind of state protection against women unleashing their original sin.’ (51). The later Act Against Conjuration, Witchcraft and Dealing with Evil and Wicked Spirits later established that those accused of witchcraft could be tried in common courts in addition to religious ones (52). Accusations of witchcraft that were based on female sexual health, therefore, were legitimised, resulting in horrific punishment for the women involved. 

Why is this still so important? Don’t we understand female health better by now? Have we not moved on from theories of demonic possession and ‘wandering wombs?’ (Seriously. You should look this up). 

Ha. You wish. 

Cited in the conclusion of Cleghorn’s book, the GHA said in a 2014 report that ‘neglect - in medical research and funding - is directly responsible for the current epidemic of delayed diagnosis, severe disease progression and premature death in women all over the globe’ (411-412). Awareness of epistemic injustice, medical gaslighting, and gender bias in medical practice has increased due to recent media coverage, but the issues are still rampant. Ask the women and girls you know: I bet you anything I’m not the only one who has been told their health issues are due to anxiety, hormones, or their menstrual cycle, regardless of how many times we say they’re not. 

In light of all this, it is not a far stretch of the imagination for us to interpret Florence Welch as a modern day conteuse. She utilises fairy tale concepts to empower herself and frame a feminist conversation that is just as relevant to women today as it was to women throughout history whilst also discussing distinctly contemporary struggles. In Everybody Scream, women are angry, powerful, and grounded in both myth and reality. Perhaps we are entering a new age of the fairy tale— these narratives are screamed and sung and spoken about by fans all over the world, and they are enabling feminist discussions. Fan communities are becoming the new salons.

I'm going to end with an extract from ‘The Transformation of Silence into Language and Action’ by Audre Lorde, in which she writes:

…for every attempt I had ever made to speak those truths for which I am still seeking, I had made contact with other women while we examined the words to fit a world in which we all believed, bridging our differences. And it was the concern and caring of all those women which gave me strength and enabled me to scrutinize the essentials of my living.

Perhaps fairy tale music can facilitate this community and connection. Perhaps it will draw us together, and help us to shape a world that accepts and understands every body, and everybody, instead of calling us demonic and burning us at the stake. 

So the next time you feel too feminine to function, remember Florence, remember d’Aulnoy, remember Lorde, and find your salon. It’s time to start screaming. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Cleghorn, Elinor. Unwell Women: A Journey Through Medicine and Myth in a Man-Made World. 1st edition. Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2021.

Drake, Alessandro M. M. “Florence + The Machine Concert Review: A Witch Coven in The Garden.” The Harvard Crimson, April 29, 2026. https://www.thecrimson.com/article/2026/4/29/florence-and-the-machine-concert-review/.

Dr. Cleto, Sara and Dr. Warman, Brittany. “Florence + The Machine’s Everybody Scream and the Redemption of Folk Horror.” Carterhaugh School (blog). November 12, 2025. https://carterhaughschool.com/florence-the-machines-everybody-scream-and-the-redemption-of-folk-horror/.

Lorde, Audre.  ‘The Transformation of Silence into Language and Action.’ In Sister Outsider (Triangle Classics, 1984).

Mackay, Emily. ‘Useless Magic: Lyrics and Poetry by Florence Welch – Review.’ The Guardian, July 10, 2018.

Nicholson, Rebecca. ‘“The closest I came to making life was the closest I came to death”: Florence Welch on sexism, screaming and the lost pregnancy that nearly killed her.’ The Guardian, September 27, 2025.

Warburg Institute. ‘About Us.’ Accessed October 14, 2026. https://warburg.sas.ac.uk/about-us. 

Welch, Florence. Everybody Scream. Universal Music Operations Limited, 2025.

Welch, Florence. Music by Men. Universal Music Operations Limited, 2025.

Welch, Florence. One of the Greats. Universal Music Operations Limited, 2025.

Welch, Florence. Perfume and Milk. Universal Music Operations Limited, 2025.

Zipes, Jack. ‘The Meaning of Fairytale within the Evolution of Culture.’ Marvels and Tales 25, 2 (2011): 221-243.

Cover Image: Autumn de Wilde, ‘Everybody Scream Photoshoot, accessed 29 October 2026, https://www.florenceandthemachinefanclub.com/everybody-scream-photoshoot.