Saturday, February 29, 2020

StorySpotting: A house full of noise (Hunters)

StorySpotting is a weekly or kinda-weekly series about folktales, tropes, references, and story motifs that pop up in popular media, from TV shows to video games. Topics are random, depending on what I have watched/played/read recently. Also, THERE WILL BE SPOILERS. Be warned!


Hunters as a show is, to say the least controversial. Reviews range from "it's awful and exploitative" to "great fun to watch". I'm not going to take sides, however, I spotted a traditional story (actually told in the show) I would love to talk about.

Where was the story spotted?

Hunters, season 1, episode 5 (At night, all birds are black)

What happens?

Two characters from the show's clandestine Nazi-hunting team, the married couple Mindy and Murray, are visited by a rabbi who wants to talk Murray into attending the synagogue again. Murray is a Holocaust survivor and his faith is shaken by the terrible things he'd seen and experienced. In order to show that God might test people of faith, the rabbi tells him a story.
In the story, a man wishes for God's blessing and a better life, and goes to a rabbi for advice. The rabbi tells him to take all his animals inside his home. Soon the man returns at the end of his wits: the house is crowded, noisy, and the animals are wreaking all kinds of havoc. He doesn't feel blessed. The rabbi tells him to take the animals out again. The next day the man returns with a radiant smile: his house feels blessedly peaceful and quiet. 

What's the story?

This is a classic (and very popular) Yiddish folktale known by various titles such as "The Noisy House" or "It could always be worse." It is an entertaining story which many contemporary storytellers love to tell, because it works great both with children and with adults, and allows a lot of space for humor.

Details of the story vary, but the gist is the same. The man usually keeps returning for advice to the rabbi (or wise woman) multiple times, bringing more and more animals inside the house. In some versions it's the family that's too big for the small house, and they invite the relatives to visit as well. The animals brought into the house usually include chickens, goats, and a cow, creating an increasingly uncomfortable environment.

Many people have retold this story over the years. It has several picture book editions, such as The Big Quiet House by storyteller Heather Forest, Too Much Noise by Ann McGovern, Terrible! Terrible! by Robin Bernstein, It could always be worse by Margot Zemach, It couldn't be worse by Vlasta Kampen, The cow in the house by Harriet Ziefert, and Could anything be worse? by Marilyn Hirsh.

You can find a long list of sources in The Jewish Story Finder.

Conclusion

This short tale holds a lot of messages, and says different things to different people. It can be about contentment, perseverance, happiness, simplicity, as well as various other things. Whether the TV show applied it well or not is up to anyone's interpretation.

Thursday, February 27, 2020

The wooing of Pumei (Feminist Folktales 9.)

Another Thursday, another post for Feminist Folktales! It's a series of traditional stories from around the world that display motifs that reflect feminist values. I am not changing any of the stories, merely researching and compiling them, and posting them here as food for thought. You can find the list of posts here.

Origin: Oroqen (China)

The story

Art by Laurent Diána
(for my book Hősök és pimaszok)
A young hunter named Yanjiao sees a beautiful girl across the river, with a red poppy in her hair. He decides to flirt with her by shooting an arrow through her bark bucket. The girl gets angry at him for ruining the bucket, and tells him he'd be a better man if he tamed the wild horse of his father. Yanjiao goes to the forest and tames the giant beast, returning to the river the next day, and shooting another arrow. This time, the annoyed girl tells him he'd really be someone if he went off and on Pumei, the most beautiful girl in the world, for himself as a wife. Yanjiao takes on the challenge and sets off, ignoring his father's warnings about the long journey.
As he journeys, he saves a group of girls from a terrible dragon - the red poppy girl among them. She agrees to travel with him "as brother and sister" and show him the way to Pumei. They go through several adventures together, fight demons, wade through giant mosquitoes, and they save each other more than once. When they finally reach Pumei's home, she says goodbye to him.
Yanjiao has to pass three tests for the girl's hand. The first too are easily done, but for the third, they put the red poppy girl on a blazing pyre. He saves her from the flames, and it is revealed that she herself is Pumei. When the shocked hunter asks her why she made him travel so far, she says "I had to see for myself what kind of a man you are before I could marry you." Yanjiao admits that she is wise, and they happily get married.

What makes it a feminist story?

If I had to name my top ten favorite folktales ever, this would be one of them for sure. I fell in love with it at first read.
Oroqen girl, image from here
It is very rare to find a folktale where hero and heroine overcome obstacles and go through adventures side by side, without the whole story already being about their love. Yanjiao, after his "flirting" is rejected, treats the poppy girl as a friend, partner, or "sister" along the way - so much so that he even promises to help her find a husband once he's married Pumei.
Let's take a moment to talk about the "flirting", by the way. Yanjiao thinks he'll win the girl's good graces by showing off his archery skills; he doesn't even care that he destroys her water buckets in the process. It is very inconsiderate of him, and the girl calls him out on it: "this was neither brave nor clever", she says, and gives him other things to do to prove his worth. Taming his father's wild horse is strongly symbolic for taming rampant destruction, and the journey he undertakes for Pumei is also a journey of proving that he is capable of learning, and behaving like a decent person. He is not a hero because he "wins" an unknown bride - the important part is how he treats the poppy girl along the way. Toxic masculinity is replaced by respect and caring. "Flirting at" someone in violent ways is one of the signs of toxic masculinity, and it is high time we started calling out those behaviors, just like Pumei does. No more "He pulls your hair because he likes you! It's a compliment!" nonsense.
It is important to highlight Pumei's closing words: "I needed to see what kind of a man you are before I could marry you." This attitude stands in contrast to many love-at-first-sight, marriage-or-death folktale types. Pumei wants to see with her own eyes what she's getting into, so much so that she accompanies the hunter on his journey, they talk, travel together, fight together, save and support each other (they even switch horses for practical reasons at one point). They get to know each other. Along the way they don't only fall in love, but they also learn to treat each other with respect, which becomes the stable foundation of a marriage of equals.
(I also have to add that as a demisexual person [for us, attraction is based on emotional connection] I love tales where people get to know each other first, and their attraction grows out of friendship.)

Things to consider

In the original text I found Pumei tells the hunter who she is first, and throws him a red poppy, before he jumps into the flames to save her. When I tell the story, he saves her first, and then she reveals who she is. I like to believe he would have saved her no matter what.

Sources

The Seven Sisters: Folktales from China (Foreign Language Press, 1982.)

Notes

Like all folktales, this one also comes with a rich cultural context, especially regarding the role of women in Oroqen culture. I recommend reading this Oroqen folktale collection, which is available online, and is full of great stories.

Tuesday, February 25, 2020

MythOff Budapest: Love is blind

On February 12th, two days before Valentine's Day, we had the first Mythoff Budapest of the year! Accordingly, the theme was love, and since love myths are easier to find from all over the world, we all drew out mythologies from a hat. Hence the title of the event: Love is blind.

This time we planned for a longer session: instead of six, we had eight tellers and four rounds. Our emcee was Nagy Enikő, with Klitsie-Szabad Bogi as her second-in-command since tonight both of them were also among the tellers. The prizes, obviously, were Valentine's themed, courtesy of Bogi.

Here is the rundown:

Round one: What would you do for love?


The evening opened with Varga-Fogarasi Szilvia telling a story from the Finnish Kalevala, about Ilmarinen the Blacksmith fulfilling various impossible tasks to win his bride (including descending into the Underworld). I was the other half of the team; I chose the story of Wild Dumrul from the Oguz Turkish Book of Dede Korkut. Dede Korkut was one of the favorite epics of my late beloved storytelling mentor, Cathryn Fairlee, so when I drew Central Asia, I chose to tell from it in her memory. Wild Dumrul battles the angel of Death in this story, and his and his wife's enduring love defeats the angel in the end.
Voting question: What would you rather do for your beloved? Descend into the Underworld, or wrestle the Angel of Death?
Winner: Angel of Death (our audience was fearless)

Round two: Toxic love


This round had myths were someone got the wrong idea about what love was supposed to look like. In the Roman corner Hajós Erika told the story of Io from Ovid, where Jupiter was being a rapey jerk. Also in this round we had a new addition to our MythOff team, Dala Dániel, who told the Chinese story of Meng Jiang, whose husband was built into the Great Wall by the Yellow Emperor, who then wanted to marry the widow by force. Our new teller was eloquent and enthusiastic, and we are happy he joined us!
Voting question: If you could save one girl from her dark destiny, which one would you rather save?
Winner: The majority wished for a happy ending for Meng Jiang.

Round three: Oceans of love


This round had myths where love intertwined with the element of water. Nagy Enikő told a story from Tuamotu, where a woman named Hina swam across to another island in search of her true love, aided (or abandoned) by various sea animals. Stenszky Cecília told the Japanese origin myth of emperors, where a legendary hunter descended to the bottom of the ocean, and married the daughter of the Dragon King.
Voting Question: Which journey would you rather take on for your beloved? Swim across the ocean, or under it?
Winner: Most people preferred to swim horizontally like Hina did

Round four: From death comes love


We had two myths this evening where love was born beyond death. One came from the Mayan Popol Vuh, told by Klitsie-Szabad Bogi with great respect and eloquence. The other was the Egyptian myth of Isis and Osiris, as told by Gregus László. This round was the perfect closing for the evening: not even death can defeat love.
Voting question: If you had to pick a name to add to the official list of baby names, which would you rather pick, Horus or Jaguar Deer?
Winner: Jaguar Deer

You can follow more MythOff news on Facebook! See you at the next event!

Monday, February 24, 2020

The wisdom of the jungle (Following folktales around the world 144. - Uganda)

Today I continue the blog series titled Following folktales around the world! If you would like to know what the series is all about, you can find the introduction post here. You can find all posts here, or you can follow the series on Facebook!

The ​King of the Snakes
And other folk-lore stories from Uganda
Rosetta Baskerville
The Sheldon Press, 1922.

The book contains twenty-six Ugandan folktales from the turn of the last century. Some of them have been translated from a Luganda collection by the author, while others she collected herself over the years she spent in Uganda. The book also contains some songs and proverbs, although it's hard to tell how close the rhyming song translations are to the original. The book was meant for children, so I suspect the tales have been "prettied up" by the author, but it was still a pretty great read.
(The title refers to a story where a wise man sees a dream predicting the arrival of the whites carried by metal snakes - the railroads.)

Highlights

The story of Kintu revealed how death appeared in the world. Kintu was a shepherd boy who fell in love with Nambi, princess of the Cloud Kingdom, who slid down the rainbow with her siblings to play. Kintu and Nambi married, but when she moved to earth she was followed by her brother Walumbe, Death, who decided to stay among the people. In another story Mpobe the Hunter found the passage to Walumbe's underground realm, but Death let him go, making him promise not to tell anyone about his adventure. Of course the hunter broke the promise, and Walumba came to take him.
The story of Princess Peace started out great, but then took a nose dive, sadly. It was about a princess who wanted to travel and see other lands, but her father kept telling her that other kingdoms were full of strange people and not worth seeing. The princess set out anyway, crossing the great lakes with the help of a bird... and saw a foreign kingdom where people were different, so she returned home, concluding that her father was right. Boo.
Two wizards featured into the story of the Locusts, and they worked together to end the pest: one lured the locusts above Lake Victoria with the help of singing fireflies, and the other sent a storm from the top of his volcano to wash all the insects into the lake.
My favorite story in the book was that of The fairy foxes, where a greedy king built a zoo, collecting all kinds of animals, none of which were happy or treated well in captivity. One of his advisers, feeling sorry for the animals, convinced the king that there were "fairy foxes" in the jungle, and the king set out to find them. Over the weeks spent in the jungle the king's eyes opened to the beauty of nature, and he set his zoo animals free.
Another favorite was the story of Two friends. A strange, quiet boy went out into the jungle to think, and all kinds of animals gave him unwanted advice, until he was befriended by a hare, who treated him kindly and helped him find his own way.
These last two stories were the kind that makes this whole reading challenge worth it...


Connections

The story of the fairy bumblebee resembled that of the Queen Bee by the Grimms. Kinto saved a bumblebee from the rain, and in return it helped him get back his stolen cow from a wizard, with the help of various ants and a bamboo forest. The riddles of an evil king were answered by Walukaga the Blacksmith, rather than the usual clever maiden.
The motif of fire theft appeared in the tale of Kibate: here the fire had to be taken from the horn of a rhino, by telling it a funny story. The fire was successfully acquired by a lonely hunter, who'd spent enough time in the jungle to understand the humor of rhinos. There was once again a "why bats fly at night" type story (here, because they forgot to give a message to the Sun and they are hiding from him). The story of the animals inviting each other for dinner featured Frog and Lizard this time. There was also a tale where Rooster threatened all the animals with his "burning" comb - until Leopard's children figured out it was not dangerous at all.
The resident trickster was Hare once again. In one story he got rid of Lion and Hyena to get a better king for the animals (they had a contest about whose thoughts are more interesting). In another tale he traded a handful of corn for increasingly better things until he earned a cow (this was a very good variant for this tale type).

Where to next?
Kenya!

Thursday, February 20, 2020

The pig (Feminist Folktales 8.)

Another Thursday, another post for Feminist Folktales! It's a series of traditional stories from around the world that display motifs that reflect feminist values. I am not changing any of the stories, merely researching and compiling them, and posting them here as food for thought. You can find the list of posts here.

Origin: Denmark

The story


A poor widow is working with her three daughters (combing flax, baking, etc.) when a pig runs into their garden. She sends her eldest to chase the pig away, and the pig lures the girl into a foggy forest where she gets lost. Suddenly the pig turns into a man who takes the girl home and locks her in a room. The same thing happens with the second daughter, but the third managed to win the man's approval, and gets free rein of the house. She finds her sisters in the locked rooms, and finds the keys to let them out. She makes a plan of escape.
One day the man comes home complaining it's cold outside. The girl asks him to take a bag of coal to her poor old mother. She hides her sister in the bag with gold and silver, and covers her with coal. The man carries her home on his back; when he tries to peek inside the bag, the girl yells "I can see you!" and he thinks the youngest daughter is watching him. He carries the first two sisters home, and then the youngest hides herself in a bag, so all thee make it back to their mother safe and sound. When the man comes home to an empty house, he bursts into pebbles out of anger.

What makes it a feminist folktale?


A brave and clever girl does not only rescue herself, but also saves her sisters.
This tale is related to the Bluebeard and Mr. Fox stories. But while in those (ATU 312) the previous wives are killed, in this type (ATU 311) the heroine finds a way out of danger, and she also saves the other girls. This is the reason I especially like this story: it is very rare in European folktales to find sisters who don't compete, but rather help each other and work together. This is a very important element to highlight, in the context of all the "evil stepsister" and "kind and unkind girls" tales. Traditional tales have very few female friendships to begin with, or good sibling connections in general, so it's good to emphasize the rare exception.
I also love this version in particular because it doesn't feature a romantic element. In many variants the girls go off to marry a rich and handsome stranger, and the moral of the story is along the lines of "don't marry rich and handsome strangers" (which is also an important message, but also kind of makes it all the girls' fault). In this Danish story the girls get lost in the woods chasing a pig, and they only go to the man's home because they "can't find the way home." They go to his house for shelter, not (misguided) romance, and none of them become his lover or wife.


Things to consider

The English text calls the animal a pig; in Hungarian I often say "boar" or "wild pig" because the creature comes out of the woods, and because "pig" is also a pejorative term for a pervert (which in this case is not entirely unfounded).

Sources

Clara Stroebe: Danish Fairy Book (1922.)
Sven Grundtvig: Gamle danske minder i folkemunde (1854.)

Notes

Interestingly, the name of this tale type in English is Rescue by the sister, but in Hungarian we call it Girl-killer. In some versions the man does kill the first two girls, but their sister usually brings them back to life somehow.

Monday, February 17, 2020

Survivor stories (Following folktales around the world 143. - Rwanda)

Today I continue the blog series titled Following folktales around the world! If you would like to know what the series is all about, you can find the introduction post here. You can find all posts here, or you can follow the series on Facebook!

The ​skin of lions
Rwandan Folk Tales and Fables
Gabriel Constans
Cacoethes Publishing, 2009.

The ten stories in this book were collected from children, aged 10-19, who were left as orphans by the 1994 genocide or the AIDS epidemic, and ended up at the El Shaddai Orphanage in Rwanda. Two of the stories are personal, telling about their life and challenges. Each chapter comes with the photo, name, and age of the storyteller. The book is a very short read, but a great initiative to preserve disappearing tales.

Highlights

There was a lovely, very short story about a man who was saved by his dog. He was too sick to move, but the dog ran over to the neighbors, and kept on barking until they followed him and found the man in trouble. In another story there was a surprising moment when a man found an egg and took it home, only to see a ferocious lion hatch from the egg...

Connections

The story that gave the book its title, The skin of lions, belonged to the African tale type where a man saves a small animal, and in exchange it chases away a big predator (a lion) by yelling loudly from a hiding place, pretending to be an even bigger, more dangerous creature. There were also two versions for the "mother killed me, father ate me" tale type, where telltale trees or bushes told about the murder of a child by his parents.

Where to next?
Uganda!

Thursday, February 13, 2020

Li Ji and the Serpent (Feminist Folktales 7.)

Another Thursday, another post for Feminist Folktales! It's a series of traditional stories from around the world that display motifs that reflect feminist values. I am not changing any of the stories, merely researching and compiling them, and posting them here as food for thought. You can find the list of posts here.

Origin: China

The story

Fujian Province is threatened by a giant, man-eating serpent that keeps snatching livestock and people. Through a dream, the serpent demands a sacrifice: a twelve-thirteen year old maiden every year on the eighth day of the eighth month. For nine years, the sacrifice is given out of fear, from the daughters of servants and convicts. In the tenth year, a girl named Li Ji volunteers for the task. She is the sixth daughter of her family, and has no brothers, so she volunteers hoping her family would get money for her sacrifice. However, her parents refuse to let her go because they love her. Li Ji, determined to go, sneaks out in secret.
Armed with a sword and a snake-hunting dog she sets out for the serpent's lair in the mountains. At the entrance she sets rice cakes, soaked in malt sugar, on the ground. The the serpent comes out to devour the cakes the dog attacks it, and so does the girl, and the two of them together manage to kill the monster. Entering the cave Li Ji finds the skulls of the previous victims. She collects them and says "You were timid, and you were devoured. How sad!" The ruler of the state of Yue hears about the heroic girl and makes her his queen, and her family is brought to the court to live in comfort. No more monsters haunt the mountains.

What makes it a feminist story?

A female monster-killer, who saves other girls from certain death. The trope of St. George and the dragon, but with a girl protagonist. Next to the whole yassss, cool girl with sword and a dog factor, there are also smaller details in this story that are worth talking about.
The serpent does not demand just any sacrifice: it wants maidens twelve-thirteen years old, at the start of puberty. We could go into the whole Freudian analysis of what a snake symbolizes in this story, but even setting that aside, the fact remains that young, defenseless girls are being sacrificed here for the greater good. There are variants where warriors try to defeat the serpent and fail, while in others the monster simply states its claim, and is given the girls. In the spirit of intersectional feminism, we should also note that these girls are not selected at random, or in a democratic fashion: they are taken from the most vulnerable population, the families of bondservants and convicted criminals. They are seen as expendable.
And then enters Li Ji.
Li Ji doesn't want t be a hero. She doesn't volunteer to save other women as much as she, in a very Katniss Everdeen moment, offers herself as a sacrifice to help her family. She is a sixth girl in a family of no boys, and in the cultural and social context of this story she is simply one more mouth to feed. She says this to her parents, asking them to allow her to at least help them by selling herself as a sacrifice. The parents, however, refuse. While her reasoning makes a kind of sense, they choose love over practicality; they value and love Li Ji for who she is. In the end, she sneaks away without their permission.
She has a plan, though: she asks for a weapon and a dog, things she'll need to fight. She knows what she needs and she voices that need. She prepares the rice cakes to distract the serpent, and when her moment of opportunity comes, she does not hesitate. Li Ji is not a victim who throws herself to the monster; she set out with a plan to survive and triumph. In many traditional stories, dogs represent intuition; Li Ji trusts her instincts, and takes advantage of them in the fight.
The closing scene of the story is also interesting. When Li Ji defeats the monster, she collects the skulls of the nine previous victims. She says a sentence over them that can be interpreted in various ways (see below), but the fact remains that the previous victims are acknowledged, and the audience is reminded how many of them perished before Li Ji came along to win. Remembering the victims of cruelty, abuse, and painful customs is an integral part of ending the cycle.

Things to consider

I read various English translations of the sentence Li Ji says over the skulls, and I even got help from a friend in looking at the Chinese original. Essentially, Li Ji says something like "You were weak, devoured by the serpent. How miserable." In other versions she says "For your timidity, you were devoured. How pitiful!", or "Because you were timid, the serpent ate you, poor things!" or "Because you were afraid to fight, you quietly lost your lives. How sad!"
It is hard to tell if Li Ji means these words as words of sorrow for the lost girls, or as some kind of a moral about putting up a fight. Modern audiences can take this two ways: either as respectful commemoration (see above), or a message about not giving up. The latter might brush too close to victim blaming, so it is important for a storyteller to be aware of their phrasing.
(Let's also note that we are talking about twelve-thirteen year old girls, who could not reasonably be expected to have three years of serpent-fighting experience for an entry level sacrifice.)

Sources

This story is a part of the Shoushen Ji (In search of the Supernatural) collection by Gan Bao, from the 4th century AD. Very bad English translation hereChinese original here.

Hua Long: The Moon Maiden and Other Asian Folktales (China Books, 1993.)
Jane Yolen: Not one damsel in distress (Houghton Mifflin Hacourt, 2018.)
Moss Roberts: Chinese Fairy Tales and Fantasies (Pantheon Books, 1979.) http://chinatourplanner.freechinalink.com/chinese-legends-the-serpent-sacrifice.html

Notes

Li Ji was featured in Rejected Princessesyou can find the entry here. I personally find it unfortunate that the artist drew a Chinese dragon for the picture, though, since no text ever calls this serpent a dragon. Chinese dragons are a whole different creature.