W is for the Weise Stone (Gemstone Folklore)

Welcome to the 2022 A to Z Blogging Challenge! My theme this year is Gemstone Folklore. Because I love stories about shiny things. Read the introduction to the project here.

WHAT IS THE WEISE STONE EXACTLY?

Der Weise (originally Die Waise, the orphan) was a famous gemstone set in the Holy Roman Emperors' crown. Some sources (like the Grimm Wörterbuch) claim it was probably a milky white opal. White opals are quite magical looking gems anyway. It was lost sometime in the 14th century, and its alleged place is taken up by a large sapphire in the crown (see top of the left plate in the picture above). Reading the story below, I wondered if the sapphire was the original gem, since the legend resembles other stories about Sri Lanka and its gemstones.

The legend of Duke Ernst

12th century German legend

This story begins with the young Duke Ernst losing his father when he's still a child. His mother, Adelheid, marries the Holy Roman Emperor Otto. The emperor treats the duke (now a grown lad) kindly, but then a jealous count fills his head with lies. The emperor, believing Ernst is trying to take his crown, starts a war against the young duke who holds out for six years but finally has to go into exile. He takes the cross along with a thousand of his knights, and journeys towards the Holy Land. In Constantinople they all board a ship, but a terrible storm takes them out to sea, and they only find land again after three months.

They first land on an island named Grippia, with a splendid city built from colorful marble. They don't find any people living there, so they help themselves to food and supplies. Duke Ernst and his best friend Count Wetzel return to the city in the afternoon to look around. They explore the palace, full of jewels and precious stones, take a bath in tubs that have hot-cold running water, sleep in the royal bed. In the evening they see from the window the people of the city finally returning: they are all finely dressed, but they are human from the neck down and cranes from the neck up. They have kidnapped a princess from India, and they are forcing her to marry the Grippian king (who has the head of a swan). The duke and the count want to attack the wedding but decide against it; instead, they wait to rescue the bride later. However, they are soon discovered, and the Grippians kill the hostage princess. Duke Ernst and Count Wetzel fight their way back to their ship with the help of their men, but lose five hundred knights to Grippian arrows in the process.

Sailing on from the island in a hurry, the travelers encounter the Lodestone (magnetic) Mountain next. It draws in the ship by its iron nails, and they crash and sink. The men swim ashore, but now they are stranded among the various treasures of all the other sunken ships - and no food. Most of them starve to death, until only Ernst, Wetzel, and five others are left. Every time someone dies, griffins fly in and take the corpse. Eventually Wetzel suggests the survivors should wrap themselves in hides, and let the griffins take them too. Him and Ernst go first. In the griffins' nest on the mainland they cut themselves out of the hides, and escape.

Coming down the mountain the survivors encounter a river that flows into a cave. Having no other way out, they make a raft and float inside the cave, which is lit up by precious gems. Duke Ernst reaches out and takes one - a stone of such exceptional, unique radiance that it is later named Lapis Orphanus, the Orphan Stone. It is set into the imperial crown (the writer of the legend notes this proves that the story is true).

After this the duke and his men have more adventures; they befriend a Cyclops king, and help him defeat his warlike neighbors the Flat Hoofs, the Big Ears, a flock of giant cranes that eat the tiny nation of the Prechami, and the Canaanite giants. He collects one of each and eventually (after six years) sails on to Enthiopia with his ragtag band, where he fights for the Christian king against an invasion from Egypt. Then he moves on to Egypt, then Jerusalem, where he gets news from Germany about the emperor discovering the truth and forgiving him. He travels to Rome (losing the Flat Hoof on the way), and then to Bavaria, arriving to the imperial court on Christmas Eve for a big family reunion. He makes peace with the emperor, gets his lands back, divides up his fantastic retinue, and apparently gifts the Orphan Stone to the ruler, who sets it in the imperial crown.

Sources: There is an entire book about the stone (see review here), and also an article here. You can read Duke Ernst's story in this book. By the way, this story sounds a whole lot like Sindbad's journeys.

What gems would you want to grab from a magical cave?

Herburt and Hild (Feminist Folktales 10.)

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: German, from an Old Norse source

The story

Count Herthegh has three sons. The youngest, Tristram, accidentally kills his middle brother in a duel, and flees from home. The father blames the eldest son, Herburt, for not keeping his siblings out of trouble, and chases him away. Herburt goes to the court of his uncle, King Thidrek (Dietrich, Theodoric the Great), and becomes a knight. He serves his uncle so valiantly than when Thidrek decides to marry King Arthur's daughter, Hild, he sends Herburt do deliver his proposal.

Herburt goes to King Arthur's court where he distinguishes himself as a knight, but can't get near the princess. By law no one can lay eyes on her. Eventually one day when she goes to church he finds a way to catch her gaze (he sets a bunch of mice free inside the church), they exchange smiles, and even a few words in secret. Hild soon asks her father to give Herburt ho her as a personal servant. Herburt now has a chance to deliver Thidrek's proposal, as he spends time with the princess every day. They talk, they get to know each other, and Hild asks a lot of questions about Thidrek (Herburt even draws his face for her). She decides she doesn't want to marry the king - she is in love with Herburt, and he with her.
The lovers decide to run away together. Arthur soon notices the escape and sends soldiers to bring back Hild and kill Herburt. The lovers decide their only chance is for Hild to not be a maiden anymore, so they jump into some bushes and do the deed. By the time the soldiers catch up, she has lost her virginity, and thus by custom belongs to Herburt. Herburt fights and kills anyone who objects, and the lovers flee to another kingdom, where they marry and live happily ever after.

What makes it a feminist story?

I picked this story for the series because it is such a beautiful counterpart to Tristan and Iseult. T&I's tragedy is started by a love potion, and the devastating ending is the result of the tension between love and honor: Tristan loves Iseult, but he owes his loyalty to his uncle King Mark of Cornwall, so he hands over the lady out of honor.
Herburt's story also features a Tristram, but he is a violent and dumb fellow. Herburt is the sensible eldest sibling who has to take the blame for everything. Leaving this toxic family environment behind, he finds honor and a new home at his uncle Thidrek's court... but he is not blindly loyal to him. When he first finds a way to talk to Hild, he delivers the proposal without an ulterior motive, praising Thidrek and painting him (literally) as a great king. He is not trying to seduce Hild, but they fall in love anyway. They have two choices from that point on: Herburt delivers the bride to Thidrek and keeps his honor at the expense of her living in an unhappy marriage forever - or they elope together, leaving both their honors sullied, and seek happiness elsewhere together.

In this story love conquers social pressure. Herburt does not sacrifice his own (and Hild's) happiness for his honor and status. In the end, they find a third solution: a third kingdom where they can be happy together, and where the king hold Herburt in "great honor" and his service results in "many stories of his deeds."
Hild makes an independent choice as well. She decides who she wants to spend her life with, and stands up for her choice; she doesn't become a martyr for her honor, or for Herburt's protection. She trusts him, and trusts that they can find happiness together; she gets on a horse and rides away with him, leaving her status and wealth as Arthur's daughter and Thidrek's bride in the dust. This is a bold, daring choice, but not an impulsive one. Herburt and Hild are not brought together by an accidental potion, or love at a distance: They know, love, and trust each other.
The end of the story takes a very practical turn. The lovers get down to business among the bushes, taking advantage of their time's general ideas of purity to tie their lives together. They know Thidrek would not marry a woman who has been 'spoiled' by one of his knights. This is an outdated, literally medieval way of looking at virginity, which serves as a genius loophole for our heroes. If someone values a woman as much as her virginity... well, tough luck.
What I love about this story (apart from the cute romance) is that it doesn't include any self-inflicted angst. Herburt and Hild step over social limits that stands between them and their happiness, and demonstrate how those limits are useless and arbitrary. "Honor" is subjective, and no royal pat on the head is worth a lifetime spend in an unhappy marriage.
(Thidrek, by the way, happily marries some other random princess in the end.)

Things to consider

Age limits, obviously. I'd totally tell this to teens, though.

Sources

The saga of Thidrek of Bern (Garland, 1988.)

Notes

I would love to tell this story parallel to Tristan and Iseult. Especially because I like to imagine that the Tristram in this story is the same as Tristan in the other one...

Legends of the Rhine (Following folktales around the world 78. - Germany)

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!


I bet you thought Germany would be represented by the Grimms! But since I recently worked my way through the early Grimm tales, and also already blogged about the Schönwerth collection, I decided to read something else this time. 

Legends of the Rhine
Wilhelm Ruland
Hoursch & Bechstedt, 1906.

This book contains 94 legends. It proceeds geographically from the source of the Rhine in Switzerland all the way to the Netherlands, retelling tales and legends city by city, castle by castle. Because of the borders, the book contains some Swiss stories at the beginning, and some Dutch at the end, but it is still very much a collection of German lore. The language is poetic and romantic, which is occasionally very fitting, and other times annoying, but at least it represents an era of re-telling German legends that precedes WWII. Because it is a literary collection, there are no notes or sources for the stories, but it was still a very entertaining read - I encountered some old favorites, and found new ones as well. If you even decide to take a trip along the Rhine, don't go without this book.

Highlights

Obviously the Niebelungenlied is featured in the book, in two parts: Siegfried's death and Kriemhilde's revenge are attached to the city of Worms, while Siegfried's childhood and the slaying of the dragon are told in Xanten. Other famous classics also made an appearance: I read about Lorelei (St. Goar), Roland (Rolandseck) - the knight here survived his last battle and returned to his German love, but she was already dead -,  Lohengrin (Cleve), and the infamous Lady of Stavoren.

Aachen

Several legends along the Rhine feature Charlemagne. I especially liked Eginhard és Emma (Ingelheim), in which the king's favorite daughter fell in love with a young courtier, and when snow fell, she carried him on her back across the courtyard, so that the footprints would not give his visit away. Charlemagne did find out in the end, and exiled the lovers - but they lived happily together anyway. The legends of Aachen also featured the king. There was the story of the famous cathedral, in which people threw a wolf in first, so that the Devil waiting for his payment (for helping build the cathedral), a "living creature's soul", would kill the wolf and not the first person to walk in. Also, my personal favorite, the Ring of Fastrada: A magic ring that made Charlemagne fall madly in love with whoever was wearing it - including his wife's corpse, and his good friend Bishop Turpin.

Rheinstein

As a collection of romantic legends, the book contains quite a few love stories, both of the tragic and the happy variety. Gerda és Helmbrecht (Rheinstein), for example, live happily ever after - after the girl is almost married to an evil old suitor, but her horse goes wild in the wedding procession, kicks the guy into a ravine, cripples the stern father, and throws the bride right into the arms of the true love. The Minstrel of Neuenahr was a beautiful, but tragic tale of a singer who went off to the Holy Land to earn the hand of the lady he loved - but returned too late, after she died of loneliness.
Of the less well known stories, I really liked the Knave of Bergen (Frankfort), a dashing stranger who danced with the empress all through a masquerade - until it was revealed that he was an executioner by trade. The story had a happy ending, in which the executioner convinced the emperor to knight him, to wash the "stain" of his profession off the empress. Smart guy. I also liked the Blind archer of Burg Sooneck, who was kept as a prisoner by an evil robber baron, until he was called on to show off his skills of shooting after sound - and, unsurprisingly, he shot the baron dead, after he clinked his glass.

Cologne

German common sense featured into the legend of the Cathedral of Cologne. The building master made a bet with the Devil that the cathedral would be ready faster than the Devil could dig a canal to the city, with cheerful ducks swimming in it. The underground canal was done quickly, but the Devil could not really get the ducks to cheerfully swim in it... until he tricked the master into disclosing that the ducks needed air holes along the underground tunnel. Holes were made, the ducks moved in, the bet was lost, the master killed himself, and the cathedral was only finished by the 19th century.
As an archaeologist, I also enjoyed the legend of the Roman ghosts in Bonn. Roman martyrs Cassius, Florentius and Melusius helped a poor man out with some gold - but they only spoke Latin, which the man did not understand, so all that they could say together was "Vivat!"

Connections

Siebengebirge

Giants appeared in various stories. In one, a giantess picked up a farmer from the fields, and took him home as a toy - but her father told her to take it back where she found it (people are friends, not toys). In the story of the Seven Mountains, people paid the giants to cut a path for the river, and they did so - and surprisingly, no one got cheated or killed in the deal.
The legend of the Orloj in Prague was repeated about the cathedral clock in Strassbourg - the clockmaker was blinded so that he could never make another one (it was tough to be a clockmaker in the middle ages). The Polish legend of Popiel was repeated in the Mouse Tower of Bingen, where an evil archbishop was eaten by mice. There was also a virgin offered to a dragon (naturally), but this time she was rescued by her own faith, and the cross she was carrying (Drachenfels).
The story of Richmodis of Aducht from Cologne still goes around today as an urban legend - it's the one about the wife who is buried alive, and wakes up when grave robbers try to cut her rings off. Cologne also had a connection to the Grimm tales: legend says goblins used to live in its workshops, helping people with their crafts, until a tailor's wife left out peas on the floor to watch them trip and fall. Ever since then there have been no shoe-making elves in Cologne (or trade elves of any kind).

Where to next?
Liechtenstein!

W111.2.5. Boy to see whether there is fire in the house: feels cat to see if she is warm (WTF - Weird Things in Folktales)

Welcome to my A to Z Challenge blog series titled WTF - Weird Things in Folktales! Find the introduction post (explaining the theme) here. Find all other participating blogs in the comments of each day's post on the main blog! You can also follow us on Twitter and Facebook.

W is for Traits of Character, both favorable and unfavorable. Folktales are full of nice and less nice characters, and their personalities are represented through various actions - some more peculiar than others. Tales depicting extraordinary laziness (W111) are especially entertaining. Observe:

W111.2.5. Boy to see whether there is fire in the house: feels cat to see if she is warm 

This story, commonly known and shared around Europe in the Middle Ages, features an extraordinarily lazy servant. When his lord tells him to get up and see if it rained, the servant calls in the dog instead, to see if it is wet. When asked whether there is enough fire in the house, the servant, instead of checking the fireplace, calls in the cat and pets it, to see if it is warm. When his lord asks why the door has been open all night, the servant answers: "I knew you would ask me to open it in the morning, so I left it open the night before to save myself the trouble."

Let's face it, we all know that person (like someone who asks the phone if it's raining instead of looking out the window). Also, most of us have been that person, from time to time. I know from experience that you sometimes only notice it's raining when the dog comes in soaking wet...

(Read the French version of the story here, the German version of the story here, and the Yiddish version of the story here.)

Runner-ups
W11.9. Prince donates all including a tooth
W11.16. Generous king gives away his only eye
W28.4. Saint threatens to take place of homicide in hell unless soul is released.
W111.1.1.1. Man is burned to death because he is too lazy to put out spark
W111.5.13. Man weeds garden from cushioned rocking chair, using fire tongs to reach weeds
W116.7. Use of strange language to show one’s high education
W128.3. Dissatisfied rivers complain against sea
W152.3. Stingy dead woman raises her head to correct account of laundress, who is overcharging her daughter
W152.7. Spider in stingy woman‘s house grows thin
W152.12.2. Stingy farmer encourages help by promise of hot lunch. The servant discovers that the hot lunch is a mustard sandwich.
W152.14.2. Man saves sausage skins, sends them back for refilling
W212.1. Eager warriors go through tent wall

Epic-Lovers Reunite!

At the end of my one-year mentorship with Cathryn Fairlee, we celebrated with a storytelling concert showcasing some of our favorite epics. It was almost exactly a year ago. Last November, I got to premiere my one-hour show based on the Persian Book of Kings - but little did the audience know at the time that Cathryn helped me work on not one, but two epics over the course of one year, and the other fringe performance was yet to come. We scheduled the Epic-Lovers Reunite! house concert for the day after Epic Day, and I was both excited and grateful that I got to share the stage with my mentor once again. We had a completely full house: 50 people bought tickets for the show!

If you have been following this blog, you probably noticed how much I posted about my research on the Dietrich Cycle. The full-hour storytelling show born from all that work is titled Roses in the Mountains: German legends of Dwarves and Men, and this was the very first time I told it all in one swoop. It was an intense, but very rewarding experience.
The show is made up of two of the prominent legends about Dietrich and his knights. The first part is the legend of Virginal, Queen of the Mountains, and her war against the evil sorcerer Ortgis. She summons the human heroes as her allies (since, according to the Book of Heroes I quote at the beginning of the show, humans were created by God to protect the Dwarf kingdoms from giants and dragons). At first, Dietrich and his men try to take care of the threat themselves, but they fail miserably, and the whole story ends in an all-out epic battle between the forces of darkness and the allies of the Dwarf queen. Dietrich marries Virginal, who proves herself to be a wise ruler. I really enjoyed telling about all the fights and monsters, and the kids in the audience listened with wide-open eyes.

The second half of the story mirrors the first in many ways. It is the story known as the Small Rose Garden, the tale of the Dwarf King Laurin who allegedly abducts a human maiden. Dietrich and his men travel to Laurin's legendary rose garden in the mountains, trespass on his property, and effectively manage to start a war between Dwarves and humans. What saves the day in the end is the love of the maiden, Künhilde, for the Dwarf king, and her joining forces with Virginal to set things right. Yes, this story passes the Bechdel Test.
The story came together beautifully in the end. It is a fast-paced tale with a lot of intense fight scenes - but it also has humor in all the right places to break up the tension, and the audience responded well to those scenes. I added a couple of sorter Dietrich tales to round out the narrative (such as the story of the rose garden itself from a Swiss legend, or the scene where they drag a knight out of a dragon's mouth). I also tweaked the tales a little to give more play time to the women. The Dietrich Cycle does have several powerful women in it, so the changes did not feel out of place at all.

The second half of the house concert was the best reward I could have hoped for after such an exhausting performance: Cathryn told some of the legends of the Fianna. She knows that I live and die for Fionn Mac Cumhail, and as I curled up on a pillow in the corner with my well-deserved dinner, she told several of my favorite tales - and even one that I have not hear before! It was equally amazing to watch her, and to see the audience's reactions. Many of the heard the Burning of Tara, or the Birth of Oisín for the first time, and I was happy to see that the stories had the same effect on them as they did on me almost twenty years ago.

Epic-Lovers Reunite was definitely a success. I hope that I will get to tell with Cathyrn again (at the next Epic Day at the latest), and I also hope that I will get to take Roses in the Mountains to many other stages around the world. These stories deserve to be told...
(King Laurin's story is included in my book of tales about superhuman powers)

Gepids, Goths, and Giants - Storytelling on Archaeology Day

Archaeology Day takes place over the last weekend of every May. As an archaeologist-storyteller, it has become tradition for me to spend this event at the museum in Szolnok, a town in Hungary that sports a wealth of finds from the Migration Era. Last year I told Nart sagas for their Sarmatian theme - this year I was invited back to create a storytelling program for their Gepid exhibit.

It is a lot easier to create a show for Sarmatians than it is for Gepids. Go figure. This Germanic ethnic group did not leave written sources of their own behind - all we know about them, we know from chronicles written by others about the Gepids. Out of these historical accounts emerges the sad tale of Rosamund, a Gepid princess kidnapped and abused by Alboin, king of the Langobards, arch-enemies of her people, who was forced to drink from the skull of her own father. She ended up having her husband assassinated, and then got executed herself - her story still lives in ballads in Lombardy.

Well, this is kind of a mood-killer, but a very important part of early medieval European history. I was lucky enough to dig up a frame story that made it amazing: Theophylact Simocatta, Byzantine historian, recorded a murder case where the suspect (a Gepid mercenary) used this tale in his defense. The mystery case, together with the tale of the Gepid-Langobard feud, ended up being a pretty neat historical story, if I do say so myself. The rest of the program I filled up with legends about my old friend Dietrich, who is a legendary figure based on Theodoric the Great, king of the Ostrogoths, who were not exactly friendly with the Gepids, but they were related, and Gepid warriors did serve in Theodoric's army. I also threw some Germanic/Norse mythology into the mix, and some German folktales for little children, in case we got any.

(We didn't)

Since last year I told in a full Sarmatian costume, I decided to keep to this tradition as well. My Gepid outfit just kind of happened - it was assembled from gifts I got over the past years from my SCA friends, all of which just happened to fit perfectly into a reconstruction of a famous Gepid female burial that my former archaeology professor published. All I really needed to buy was some beads to recreate the necklace and belt ornaments, and I was ready to roll!

There were two one-hour shows scheduled for the day, both of which were promoted to school groups since they happened during a school day. In the first round I had a 5th grade class (20-something students), accompanied by some adults. They were a loud bunch of little smartasses, and I absolutely loved them. They had comments for everything, but they were comments related to the tales, and moved the plot forward in hilarious ways. I opened with the tale of the Gepid warrior's trial, then moved on to Dietrich legends - the tale of Mighty Huntress Lady Minne, Sigenot the Giant, Sistram Who Was Fished Out of the Mouth of a Dragon, and finally, just for good measure, the myth of Thor and Utgard-Loki. After this last one they wanted to know if I could also tell a story about Deadpool (I wish), or Iron Man (to which I pointed out that everyone was wearing iron in all these stories). Generally the mood was great, I had fun with the cheeky comments, and the stories felt awesome in the telling. None of them (except for the first one) was too serious, and they hit the age group just right. 

Some of the gems:

Me: "King Dietwart and Lady Minne lived happily ever after."

Boy: "Did they have children?"

Me: "Actually, they did! According to the chronicles, they had forty-four children."

Boy: "Whaaaat! How do you name that many children?"

Me: "You don't. You number them."

Boy: "But how? Did she have one child a day?"

Girl: "Stupid! You can't have a child in a day!"

Boy: "Why not?"

Me: "After they pulled Sistram out of the dragon's mouth, they needed to make sure the story was always remembered."

Boy: "So they took a selfie!"

Me: "Well, there were no cameras back then, but they did a medieval selfie."

Boy: "They painted a picture?"

Me: "That's right! Onto Sistram's shield!"

Boy: "That's awesome."

Me: [Telling about Thor losing all of Utgard-Loki's challenges]

Boy: "I BET THEY ARE ALL CHEATING!"

Me: [Tell them what they really were]

Boy: "I TOLD YOU"

And my favorite:

Girl: "How old are you?"
Me: "Thirty."
Girl: "Oooooh."
Me: "I have been a storyteller for ten years!"
Boy: "Compared to that, you are really good!"

The school group for the second round did not show, but I still got a lovely audience: Two mothers with their kids (one with a girl and one with a boy), and several of the museum's archaeologists. I did the same lineup again, except this time I told a short version of King Laurin's Rose Garden instead of the Norse myth. Sistram flew even better the second time around, and there was a lot of laughter in the audience. The best moment was when the little boy (maybe 6 or 7) literally said a line of the story the same time I said it (it was "This is not worth starting a war over"). 

All in all, I had a wonderful time. I loved being in costume, I enjoyed all the stories, and the audience made it all absolutely worthwhile. I am already slated to appear again next year. I wonder what the theme will be... I need to get sewing. 

Folklore Thursday: 12 things you didn't know about German dwarfs

Today is Folklore Thursday on social media! If you want to find out more, follow this link, or click on the #FolkloreThursday hashtag on Twitter! Hosted by @FolkloreThursday.

This is both my Folklore Thursday and my Dietrich Cycle post this week, because I am taking PhD prelim exams and this is all I have energy for. So.

I am reading a PhD dissertation from 1976, written by George Hans Heide, titled Dwarfs in German Folk Legend: An Inquiry into the Human Quality of these Creatures. It is a well done study; the author marked and labeled all the German dwarf legends he could find (in English and in German), and summarized all he found out about Dwarf society thematically (Appearance; Habitation; Society; Possessions; Skills and Occupations; Amusements; etc.) I am about halfway through the book, and I have found some very exciting little tidbits that I wanted to share:


1. In some occasions dwarfs might dress up in clothes that imitate the colors of songbirds. (How awesome an image is that?!)

2. Dwarfs can have a variety of skin colors, from snow white to black (take that, Tolkien fandom).

3. Dwarfs pee. (It's documented)

4. Female dwarfs ("dwarfesses," according to Heide) are pregnant for 9 days. (Good for them?...)

5. Dwarfs in German legend are a lot smaller than you think: Most often they stand about 3 spans (27 inches = app. 69 cm) or 2'4" tall - although some stories make them somewhat taller, the height of a child. They can also be a lot smaller, the size of a fir cone. Newborn baby dwarfs are the size of a human thumb.

6. There is at least one documented legend about a human nobleman cheating on his wife with a beautiful dwarfess.

7. Dwarfs can have queens!!! (This is important to me for the Dietrich research)

8. Dwarf children ("dwarflings") can play with human children, and sometimes they contract lice.

9. Dwarfs like to eat peas, grapes and raisins.

10. Female dwarf musicians play cheerful music; male dwarf musicians play solemn music.

11. Dwarfs enjoy nine-pin bowling.

12. Dwarfs enjoy storytelling. (I knew I liked them for a reason)

Sunflowers, seeds, storytelling

School's back in session, the semester has begun, and I am doing the grad student thing of papers and exams and whatnot. But even now I need regular storytelling to re-charge my batteries; so I have returned to my designated practice school. I contacted them early in September to ask what they were up to. The unexpected answer:

"Do you happen to have any stories about sunflowers?"

(Catholic school; their theme for the year is "Planting the seeds of virtues")

Have I mentioned that I am a sucker for thematic challenges? I gave my standard answer: Nope, but give me three weeks.

It has been an immensely fun three weeks too. I dug into folklore and mythology, looking for tellable stories involving sunflowers. I soon made some discoveries:

1. When you search for sunflower stories, 80% of what you find will be the Greek myth of Clytie. Which is a mistranslation. It's about the heliotrope. The Greeks didn't have sunflowers, because...

2. Sunflowers are indigenous to the Americas. Which means myths involving their creation are Native American myths, and I do not tell those (for various cultural / ethical reasons). Which led me to... 

3. Finding folktales and other stories that mention sunflowers. Sadly, several of them had the sunflower added in a literary version, or a picture book. Mufaro's Beautiful Daughters, for example, added sunflowers where there were originally none. While that is all good and well, I kept digging.

Eventually, I came up with a story from Peru (it was noted as a "legend" in some sources, but I did find an original author for it); a folktale from India; and two tales that mention sunflowers marginally. To this I added ten other tales that feature gardens, flowers, flower seeds, and the occasional fruit. It took me about three weeks to sift through a lot of folklore, and order books through Inter-Library Loan. I narrowed the stories down to fourteen from forty or so. 

But it was worth it.

Today, I went to the school and told in 6 classrooms (half an hour each). It was tons of fun.

In the kindergarten (garden, hah) I told "Why snow is white" from the new Bavarian folktale collection. It is a tiny story, but it works like a charm with the little ones. They loved imagining what show would be like if it was different colors, and they found sunflower-colored "yellow snow" the funniest thing in the world (don't eat yellow snow, kids). After the storytelling, they all wanted to hug me, and I toppled over against the bookshelves.

Another story that worked great with the younglings (K and 1st) was the Jasmine Princess. While some of the boys initially made faces about a "princess story," the giant and the monkeys soon won them over. It is a great story to tell, especially when you get two dozen six-year-olds making monkey noises.

For the older grades (7th and 8th) I told the legend of Stavoren the Sunken City. Not only is it a great environmental tale full of important messages, it is also very timely, since it talks about feeding the poor. Similarly, the Kazakh folktale of the Magic Garden (one of my favorites) worked well with the discussion about urban gardening.

One of my favorite new stories is Watermelon Island, a Vietnamese folktale about the discovery of watermelons. It is a very popular story, and I found many versions of it. It is not a magical tale - all very practical instead, but kids did get a kick out of discussing how great and tasty watermelons are. It did not help that I was very thirsty at the time. I might have drooled a little.

Of course I told the Empty Pot a couple of times, as the shortest story in my flower-and-garden repertoire. It is a very clever little tale. But the big winner of the day (in 6th grade, which is my favorite bunch at the school) was the Pumpkin Girl, a Persian folktale where a baby girl turns into, and lives, as a pumpkin. The class found it absolutely hilarious, and tried to puzzle out the details of how the magic worked. My favorite part: "You can't really shop for clothes for a pumpkin, right?" Boy: "You have to go to the Halloween store and buy a pumpkin costume." Me: "You can't just dress up a pumpkin as a pumpkin!" This story, by the way, showed Cinderella in a new light to me: In this case, there is a ring that has to fit the mysterious bride perfectly. However, the prince (groom) has to send the ring house to house, not because he wouldn't recognize her, but because he can't enter houses to meet girls face to face. So he sends a ring with a female servant. LOGIC.

I am going back for another round on Wednesday.

And now if you'll excuse me I'll go buy a watermelon.

Story Saturday: Dwarf Love, Elf Love (Exploring the Dietrich Cycle, IV)

As I am working on the Dietrich cycle, a full storytelling show is slowly taking form, pieced together from different parts of the sagas. It has to do with King Dietrich and his court, and their relationship with the Dwarven realms under the mountains.
Some of these relationships are fairly personal.

I have gotten several messages and opinions about the question I posed last week. While most people are comfortable with the idea of a Dwarf queen, some of them expressed worries that she would not make a good love interest for a human (let alone a human king).
Here is the thing: The storytelling show, as it looks now, includes not one, but two inter-species relationships. One of each: Dwarf king - Human princess, Human king - Dwarf queen.

I am the storyteller, therefore I have to make some decisions of how I tell these stories. And I have the same responsibility of representation as any other form of media would.

Here are some things I do NOT want to do:
1. Have an Elf queen rule over the mountains because she is prettier than a Dwarf.
2. Abduction and rape. That trope is just not happening on my watch.
3. Make one of those couples OK, but not the other.
4. Twist the original legends completely out of shape.
5. Completely rely on the Tolkien/pop culture images of Dwarfs.

Female Dwarf concept art
for The Hobbit movie

Here are some things that I DO want to try:
1. Expand ideas of beauty. There seems to be a huge debate on the Internet (thank you, LotR fandom) about what Dwarf women look like, and whether they can be attractive to human men or not. I think most of the debate is fairly dumb, and it mostly hinges on beards.
2. Explore inter-cultural relationships. For me, neither relationship has their most potential in physical Dwarf-Human compatibility. Rather, they come from very different places, and very different cultures, and they have to navigate the transition from one to the other (a human princess living in a Dwarf kingdom, a Dwarf queen running a human court).
3. Explore the male-to-male and female-to-female connections of these two related families. Laurin and Dietrich talk quite a lot, king to king; but I also want to find connection points where the Dwarf Queen can talk with the human princess. Put the two ideas of femininity and royalty next to each other. Make the saga pass the Bechdel test.
4. Play off of pop culture why staying close to the original sagas.

Gender-bent Thorin,
because Rule 63

Here are some things I know:
1. Dwarf-and-Elf love has been done in pop culture, with ambiguous results.
2. A lot of people are still bothered by the idea of a shorter man having a relationship with a taller woman. (Look at all the Kiliel fan art, they keep hiding the height difference)
3. A lot of people are still bothered with a woman having a stockier body type than a willowy Elf.
4. NO ONE in folklore ever had a problem with fairy maidens marrying human men.
5. Dwarf women are treated as mostly nonexistent, both in pop culture and in folklore. (My favorite counter-example, of course, is Terry Pratchett's The Fifth Elephant.)

Also, I should be writing a take-home exam.
We'll see how this goes.

Story Saturday: Exploring the Dietrich cycle III. - DWARFS RULE

If you thought you got all your Dwarven Epicness needs fulfilled by The Hobbit - think again.
This is where Tolkien went to school.

"It should be known for what reason God created the great giants and the little dwarfs, and subsequently the heroes. First, he produced the dwarfs, because the mountains lay waste and useless, and valuable stores of silver and gold, with gems and pearls, were consealed in them. Therefore God made the dwarfs right wise and crafty, that they could distinguish good and bad, and to what use all things should be applied. They knew the use of gems - that some of gave strength to the wearer, others made them invisible, which they called fog-caps. Therefore God gave art and wisdom to them, that they built them hollow hills; he gave them nobility, so that they, as well as the heroes, were kings and lords; and he gave them great riches. And the reason why God created the giants, was that they should slay the wild beasts and worms (dragons, serpents) and thus enable the dwarfs to cultivate the mountains in safety. But after some time it happened that the giants became wicked and unfaithful, and did much harm to the dwarfs. Then God created the heroes, who were a middle rank between the dwarfs and giants. And it should be known that the heroes were worthy and faithful for many years, and that they were created to come to the assistance of the dwarfs, against the unfaithful giants, the beasts, and the worms... Among the dwarfs were many kings, who had giants for their servants; for they possessed rough countries, waste forests, and mountains near their dwellings."

This is a quote from one of the Heldenbücher, the Books of Heroes of German tradition (I got it from this source). And boy does it contain a lot to talk about.

There are a number of important Dwarf characters that play a part in the Dietrich Cycle. First and foremost, of course, is King Laurin, who rules over (or, rather, under) the mountains of Tyrol - more specifically, the group of the Dolomites in Northern Italy known as the Rose Garden. His realm is named after the garden his daughter planted on the mountains, in the open air (since roses don't grow in the Dwarfs' underground kingdom). The Rose Garden becomes the center (and the name) of one of Dietrich's most famous adventures.

Another Dwarven king we encounter is King Walberan, Laurin's uncle, who rules an immense realm ranging from the Caucasus to the Sinai. When Laurin is captured by Dietrich, and dragged to Bern (Verona), Walberan shows up with a Dwarf army to take revenge on Dietrich. The bloodshed is narrowly avoided by King Laurin's diplomatic skills, and the fact that he is in love with one of the knights' sisters, Künhilde. The story ends in reconciliation, and Dwarf-Human inter-species marital bliss.

The third person I want to mention is Queen Virginal. I know I have been all about her before, but I am circling back now. Here is the thing: She is not a Dwarf, but she should be. She is Queen of the Mountains, rules over Dwarves, wears a crown with a magic gemstone in it, and holds off an invasion of evil giants and DRAGONS. The stories call her an Elf maiden, but let's be real here, people: That's never gonna happen. Not on my watch.
So.
POLLING TIME! Cast your votes in an orderly fashion:
Would you rather hear a story about
1. An Elf maiden queen who rules over a mountain kingdom, and only manages to hold off the evil powers gathering against her by the power of the stone in her crown, until she is rescued by Dietrich, whom she marries, giving up her kingdom without a second thought, 
OR
2. A Dwarven queen who defends her lands with the unexpected last minute help of human knights, fights an epic battle, and ends up in an even more unexpected relationship with said human knight, eventually marrying him and maybe still ruling over her own kingdom?...

I am asking this for research purposes. Because one way or another, the Rose Garden and Virginal might end up being a full-hour show I work on. 

Story Saturday: Exploring the Dietrich Cycle II. - Dragons, Dwarves, and Love Stories

(No, this is not about The Hobbit)

As I promised last week, I am working my way though the Dietrich Cycle - just finished Great Norse, Celtic and Teutonic Legends - and picking and choosing stories that I will want to work with in the future for storytelling performances.
For today, I have an assortment of love stories for your consideration. Like in all medieval romances (duh), there is a lot of them around Dietrich and his valiant knights - and some are more quirky than others.

Hilgunde and Hildburg
(I really just have to accept that every single female name in the saga starts with Hil- or Sig-)
What can the emperor of Constantinople do when he wishes to marry a princess locked away in a tower? Obviously, he goes undercover. In the case of Hugdieterich, that means that he dresses up as a lady, and learns "the ways of women" - so well, in fact, that he becomes famous for his embroidery, and is hired, under the name Hilgunde (his own imaginary sister), to tutor the princess Hildburg. He spends several weeks in the court, and a strong friendship grows between him and the princess - who eventually discovers that her tutor is in fact a man, an emperor no less. Their friendship grow into something more... someone more, actually (babies!!). But that's another story.

Mighty Huntress Princess Minnie
(This would be such a perfect name for an anime!)
In this story another emperor (this time of Rome, or Romaburg) wishes to marry a princess - and is slightly surprised when he is told by her father that the decision is up to her. Once Dietwart and his royal entourage arrive to propose, the Lady Minnie tells them she needs time to get to know the emperor, and make up her mind whether she likes it or not. This slightly anachronistic feminist streak is starting to freak out everyone's masculinity, so they decide to go on a hunt. Turns out, the princess is actually a "mighty huntress" - which makes Dietwart and his boys scoff at her, until she leaves them behind in the dust, and makes the first kill. Unfortunately, she and her maids also scare up a dragon in the woods, and while she keeps shooting arrows at it, they can't break the dragon's scales. She turns to run, and falls... Dietwart to the rescue!
Turns out that killing a dragon and having your chest ripped open is a great in with the ladies. Also turns out that Princess Minnie is also an accomplished healer. Things just work out sometimes.

Herburt and Hild
Nothing illustrates better the difference between the King Arthur cycle and the Dietrich cycle than the fact that they both have a version of Tristan and Isolde - and the latter has a happy ending. Even more than that, it actually involves Tristan's older (and smarter) brother, Herburt - and King Arthur's very own daughter. Talk about royal families being connected.
The gist is the same: King Dietrich wishes to marry King Arthur's fair daughter, but she can't be approached by anyone. Dietrich's good man Herburt goes undercover, gets hired by Arthur, and soon becomes his trusted steward. He designs genius ways to catch a glimpse of the princess (even though she is covered in sheets and surrounded by knights and monks all the time). He ends up becoming her personal servant (as per the princess' request), and honorably proposes to Hild - in Dietrich's name. Hild, obviously, does not like this one bit, and honestly, neither does Herburt. So they run away together. Being pursued by the two most powerful monarchs of European legend and history (one of them literally breathes fire), Herburt and Hild do the only sensible thing: They have sex. Now that she is not a virgin, she is obligated to be Herburt's wife. Everyone can go home. German practicality wins over English drama.

Wow, this got longer than I expected. I'll have to leave the dwarves for next time.
Tune in next week for more!

Story Saturday: Exploring the Dietrich Cycle I. - A mosaic of tales

We are now in the second half of the year, which means that I have begun work on the second epic of my choice, under the J. J. Reneaux grant and the mentorship of the amazing Cathryn Fairlee. After long consideration, I decided to work with the Dietrich Cycle. A number of factors helped me make the decision:

1. I read the Saga of Thidrek of Bern for the A to Z challenge this year, and I enjoyed it immensely
2. I also read the Queen of the Mountains for A to Z and it is epic in all senses of the world
3. I have worked on a version of King Laurin's Rose Garden for my book (under Invisibility) and I always wanted to dig into the whole German "dwarf kingdoms" mythology more
4. Part of my heritage is Swabian, and after the Persian epic I wanted to explore something closer to home.

The Dietrich Cycle is a collection of German legends centered on King Dietrich, a mythical knight-hero figure loosely based on Theoderic the Great. Unlike the Persian Book of Kings, it is essentially a mosaic of stories I get to piece together for myself, from various sources. My main source (the most coherent and comprehensive one) is the Saga of Thidrek, a Norse re-telling of the German legends. Because of this fractured nature, there will be a lot of work with selecting the parts I want to tell, exploring the world of Dietrich and his companions, and shaping it all into one (or more) storytelling performance.

I decided to journal this process in my upcoming Story Saturday posts. Dietrich is not nearly as internationally well known as King Arthur is, and yet there are a lot of similarities - and also a lot of unique elements that make the saga cycle exciting. If you don't believe me, read my A to Z posts about the best bits!

For starters, here is a list of the sources I am working with. The ones with links attached are available for free from archive.org (yay!):

The Saga of Thidrek of Bern (translated by Edward Haymes, 1988)

Dietrich of Berne and the Dwarf King Laurin (by Ruth Sawyer, 1963) - This one actually turned out to be a novelized re-telling, I'll probably read it at the end for flavor

Great Norse, Celtic and Teutonic Legends (by Wilhelm Wagner, 2004)

The Wayland-Dietrich Saga (by Katherine M. Buck, 1924) - This one is an 8-volume (!!) attempt at a coherent poetic English re-telling of the entire cycle (Kalevala style)

Hero Tales & Legends of the Rhine (by Lewis Spence, 1915)

Teutonic Myth and Legend (by Donald Mackenzie, 1934)

Epics and Romances of the Middle Ages (by Wilhelm Wagner, 1884)

Illustrations of Northern Antiquities (by Henry Weber, 1814)

Tales and Legends of the Tyrol (by Comtesse von Günther, 1874)

The Heroic Saga-Cycle of Dietrich of Bern (by F.E. Sandbach, 1906)

Hopefully, by next week I will be able to introduce you to some characters that will be making an appearance.
Also, dragons.
Stay tuned!

T is for Thidrek of Bern (Epics from A to Z)

If you like Norse sagas, King Arthur legends, and Alternate Universe fan fiction, then you will like this epic.

Origins
The group of legends centered on Thidrek (Dietrich) of Bern is German in origin. The particular collection discussed here, known as the Thidrekssaga, however, was probably written down somewhere in Scandinavia (although scholars can't agree if the writer was German or Norse). The English translation is almost 300 pages long (in extremely small print). The saga is usually dated around 1250, the high time of romances of chivalry... and boy does it deliver.

The Heroes

The story is essentially a mash-up of German legends such as the Niebelungenlied, some Norse sagas, stories of Attila the Hun, and a great dose of Arthurian pomp. It features several historical names, but in the end, it is a product of chivalric fiction.
In the center stands King Thidrek of Bern (Dietrich of Verona), who is often equated with the historical king Theoderic the Great. Around him gather the great names of German legends: his mentor Hildibrand (who can still kill ten young warriors in combat when he is over a hundred years old), Siegfried (the invulnerable dragon-killing hero of the Niebelungenlied), Heimir (who is not a nice person, but great with horses), Vidga (the white-haired half-mermaid son of Wayland the Smith - he is essentially the Lancelot of the bunch), Sistram of Fenidi (who joins the team after they fish him out of a dragon's mouth), Thetleif the Dane (who is not very smart, but very strong), Vildifer (who can and does pass for a live bear in combat), Herbrand the Far-Traveler (the diplomat of the team), Ekka and Fasold (the stereotypical red-haired identical twins, one a friend and one an enemy), Högni (the one-eyed, grumpy half-elf knight) (yeah, you read that right), Sifka (the traitor) and Earl Hornbogi (the handsome one).
Impressed yet?
Add Attila the Hun to the mix (he's best friends and allies with Thidrek), and you have a vague idea of the lineup you will meet in this story.
(There is an entire chapter devoted to what each of them look like, how they dress, and what their coat of arms is. They also all get their own backstories.)

Highlights
While a huge part of the saga is taken up by very detailed duels and epic battles, it also has a lot of other delightful bits going for it. For example:

1. The duel between Thidrek and Ekka (the evil twin). They meet in the woods at night, and neither can see the other. After Ekka taunts Thidrek with how superior his weapons are, they decide to fight. Thidrek strikes sparks on rocks with his sword to see where his opponent is, and they fight in the flashing light of sparks flying from their blades. Now there's a visual.
2. The scene where Thidrek and Fasold find a dragon on a clearing. The dragon is in the process of devouring Sistram, whose head and shoulders are still free. He yells instructions at the two knights on how to kill a dragon, one of which is "Don't cut its neck! My legs are way down its throat..."
3. The time young Thetleif defeats an older knight (who rides an elephant) and after the duel they become friends and go home together. When the daughter of the old knight sees her father wounded, she yanks Thetleif off his horse and throws him down with a force that would kill a normal man. Of course they fall in love later.
4. The time Vildifer dresses up as a bear and sneaks into the enemy's castle to rescue the imprisoned Vidga. The enemy king doesn't realize there is something wrong with the dancing-bear performance until the bear draws a sword... At which point the king comments "That's a well trained bear!" (Famous last words)
5. The time Vidga kills a giant in single combat, and then covers himself in the giant's blood and rides back to his friends, pretending to be mortally wounded. Everyone panics, and Vidga laughs his bloody ass off.
6. There is a version of Tristan and Iseult's legend in here - Herburt and Hild - and it has a happy ending. That in itself made me so happy...
7. There is a battle where one of the kings is helped by his wife, the sorceress Queen Ostasia. She summons an army of lions, bears and dragons. The entire chapter is just one big battle scene between knights and combat dragons. I was having some serious Maleficent flashbacks.
8. When King Thidrek gets angry, he literally breathes fire. He only uses it once in combat, though.
9. This line: "King Hertnid rode at the dragon more out of honor than out of wisdom." (He gets devoured)
10. The time Heimir becomes a monk, and then decides to return to being a knight when a giant threatens the monastery. The monks tell him they already broke down his sword and used it for door hinges (it's one of the three magic swords in the saga). Heimir almost gets a stroke.
11. The time Earl Iron gets so obsessed with hunting that his wife feels neglected. Finally she goes out into the fresh snow and rolls around naked, leaving boob-prints all around the castle. Then she goes back to her husband and says "I have seen the tracks on a very rare new prey around the castle. If you don't hunt it soon, some other man will."

(This saga was definitely one of my favorites I read for this challenge.)

Q is for the Queen of the Mountains (Epics from A to Z)

The lineup got slightly wonky here: I'll have to introduce you to Dietrich's first quest before I introduce you to the awesomeness that is the Dietrich Cycle (which you will see under T in three days). But I was really hard pressed since the only epic that starts with a Q is not available in English. Therefore, I had to go with the Queen of the Mountains, and Dietrich's first Quest. It's a great story anyway.

Origins

The poem generally known as "Virginal, Queen of the Mountains" was written sometime before the 14th century, and it is German (Swabian-Alemanic) in origin. It survives in three different versions, two of which are fairly long, and none of which are translated. I read it in two, freely available short prose translations here and here.

The Hero

You'll hear enough of Dietrich later, so I'll talk about Virginal instead. She is introduced as the Queen of the Mountains (of Tyrol), and also as the Queen of the Dwarves. This in itself sent me into a righteous gloating mood over the "female dwarves are not authentic!" whiny part of the Tolkien fandom. 

Sadly, none of the story actually calls Virginal herself a dwarf, although it would be interesting to look at the German text. In English they call her an elf, and describe her as a beautiful maiden dressed in white and crowned with a magic jewel (sounds like an elf doesn't it). She also marries the (human) hero in the end, which means she's probably not a dwarf - although it has to be noted that the same legend cycle does mention a (happy!) marriage between a Dwarven king and a human princess. (The legend is called King Laurin's Rose Garden. I love that story so much, I even included it in my book!) 

Anyhow, dwarf or elf, Virginal (whose name, while it seems self-explanatory, probably derives from a Gothic word that means 'mountain') rules over the glaciers and snow-covered peaks of the mountains. According to the story she has a magic jewel in her crown that allows her to command all the creatures - dwarves, elves, giants - of the mountains (although, concerning the main story, it probably doesn't work very well).
While the idea of an elf queen over a dwarf kingdom bugs me, she is still a fairly interesting character.

The Highlights

The story itself is much like many other medieval romances: Virginal's kingdom is threatened by evil giants (the traditional enemies of dwarves) led by two evil magicians, and she asks help from the great hero Dietrich and his knights. Several adventures commence, giants are slain, maidens are saved, dragons are defeated, until finally Dietrich kills the last evil magician, and the war is over. As I said earlier, he marries Virginal in the end, and she gives up her kingdom (meh).

Some of the fun parts:

1. While fighting re-spawning giants and dragons all night (courtesy of black magic) Dietrich and his mentor Hildebrand rescue a knight from a dragon's mouth. Literally. That's a whole new level of "Look what the dragon dragged in!"

2. Much in the  vein of Hansel and Gretel, the maidens offered to the evil giants as sacrifice are kept in a chamber, being fattened for consumption. For some reason, I found this amusing. Especially since the wording said: "In the castle they found three of the queen's maidens, cooped up for fattening."

3. Virginal has an "undefeated champion," a dwarf called Bibung, who during the story turns out to be a tremendous coward.

4. There is a cosmic battle in the end with human heroes, magicians, dragons, giants, evil hounds, and all kinds of natural disasters. Very epic.

The Turnip Princess is here and it's great

So, remember that one Guardian article from 2012 that some people still post on your Facebook wall every other week? It's titled "Five hundred new fairy tales discovered in Germany!" Well, good news: the much-awaited English translation is finally here!
...
Well, actually, a bilingual German-English volume has been out since last year, but the new book, titled The Turnip Princess, adds another batch of sixty-something tales now available in English. Yay!
I have probably waited the publication of this book with more excitement than most people wait for the new Star Wars movie. My boyfriend ordered it for me as a late birthday present (because for some reason not all folktale collections are published on my birthday, which is a crying shame). I devoured the entire volume in two days, and my copy now looks like this:

In which green slips stand for stories I want to tell (14), orange slips stand for stories that are also included in the other volume (7), and pink slips stand for notable moments. I have been busy.
The edition itself is very well done. Stellar intro from Maria Tatar (Hungarian pride!), extensive and thought-provoking notes on each tale, and an appendix with archive numbers, folktale types, and places of collection. Everything a storyteller can wish for.

And now, for some of the highlights!

1. Even though Tatar claims it's "not part of the European canon," the story of King Goldenlocks is actually a version of The Golden-haired gardener, a Hungarian folktale I just told two months ago at the Tenerife storytelling festival. I have never known another version of it, so I was delighted to find one in here!
2. Similarly, The Flying Trunk proved to be another variation of a Hungarian folktale that I included in my own book (The Winged Prince), and never found another version of. It is also a Cinderfella story where a prince loses a boot...
3. I was most excited about the Dung Beetle Prince tale that was teased in some of the articles, and it turned out to be the most adorable little story. I won't spoil it, but it's great.
4. There is a great number of tales in the volume that feature wood sprites, wood nymphs, gnomes, mermaids, and other mythical creatures, and most of them seem to be on amicable terms with humans. The darker steak is reserved for the mermaids who destroy mortals by loving them; but the woodland creatures are generally helpful and friendly, and revel a less known side of German folklore.
5. There is a version of the Pied Piper in this book (The Mousecatcher, or the Boy and the Beetle) that picks up where the children disappear inside the mountain. Think about that for a moment.
6. This volume (and the other one as well) features a tale that is a full-blown prequel to the popular "Tall, Wide and Sharpsight" folktale type, explaining how the magical helpers in these stories originally received their abilities. Yup. It's a superhero origin story, and it's titled Sir Wind and His Wife.
7. There is a tale of mortal girls marrying ice giants and living happily ever after.
8. At the end of a "Valiant Little Tailor" type story the princess refuses to be given as a prize and makes plans to murder the hero she is forced to marry.
9. There is a magical procedure described for turning a dragon back into a princess. (People get turned into some weird things in this book - among others weasels, tortoises, beetles, and little fish.)
10. There are several recognizable elements of pagan mythology, such as a folktale version of Freya's necklace.
11. More than one story deals with why people should not torture animals or vandalize trees. The tree one (The Singing Tree) gets especially creative in driving the point home.

Definitely a recommended read for storytellers.

Yes, Grimm fairy tales are dark, and we like them that way

News about a new edition of the Grimm fairy tales have been circling the Internet and popping up consistently on my Facebook wall. Headlines include:

Grimm Brothers' fairy tales have blood and horror restored to them in new translation (The Guardian)

New Translation of Grimm's Fairy Tales Restores the Gore and Horror (io9)

First Edition of all the Original Grimm's Fairy Tales will leave in all the gnarly parts (The Mary Sue)

Too Grimm for Disney: Original editions of classic fairy tales offer darker side of Brothers Grimm stories - including self-mutilation in Cinderella and Rapunzel getting pregnant in her tower (The Daily Mail Online)

These Grimm fairy tales are not for the kiddies (USA Today)

Brothers Grimm: Fairy tales restored & there are no "happy endings" (Hollywood Life)

So, what's up with all of this? Are we excited? Yes.
Is this good news? Yes.
DID YOU KNOW THAT IN CINDERELLA...
YES, I KNEW.

Professional storytellers generally know. We might not always be allowed to tell the stories that way (especially in the USA), but trust me, we know. It's really the only party trick a storyteller has: "Did you know that Rapunzel originally gets pregnant in the tower?" "Did you know that Cinderella's sisters cut their toes and heels off to fit the shoe?" "Did you know that Snow White is strangled, stabbed in the head, and then poisoned?"
Yes, yes, and yes.

When I was little, back in Hungary, I had picture books that told the stories that way, and no one thought about it twice. I went to puppet shows where they poured red glitter out of the stepsisters' shoes to indicate the dripping blood. The firs time I saw the Disney version of some of these tales I was not entirely sure what the heck was up with them.

So, what is the fuss exactly about? Why is all the media talking about the new edition? And, most of all, what I am trying to prove here?

It's not about the stories. The Grimm tales are dark, and they have been known to be dark for a long time. I mean, who ever thought that The Pied Piper of Hamelin is a cheerful, goofy children's story? (Apparently every children's book illustrator ever). The news is not the fact that Grimm is dark. The news is that people are excited about this.

Stories can use some darkness. They don't hurt children. I (like most kids in Europe) knew the original versions when I was little, and I turned out fine (and a storyteller). And yet, these versions are regarded as something strange and new and sensational. If you work in education or entertainment, you know why. Every storyteller could talk to you for hours about parents and teachers (but never kids!) complaining about a story being "too dark" or "too gory" just because the villain dies in the end. Stories get censored left and right. What, it is okay to murder Snow White once, but not three times? (The dwarves manage to save her the first two times, in case you were wondering). Is it okay for Rapunzel to be sold by her mother and thrown from a tower, but pregnancy is a taboo?

Yes, the Grimm tales are dark, and you know what else? It's not just Grimm, either. A 17th century Italian version of Sleeping Beauty gets raped in her sleep and wakes up when she gives birth to twins. The original Red Riding Hood is torn apart and devoured by a wolf. A Swiss version of Snow White is a girl forced into slave labor by seven bandits. The ancient Greek Cinderella is a prostitute. The Hungarian Dancing Princesses don't wait for their suitors to fall asleep - they poison them dead and then go to a witches' Sabbath. I could go on.

Shiny, happy, kid-friendly tales are a product of 19th century romantic ideals of childhood. They are not the norm. Grim(m) was the norm. And some of them were never intended for children. And now while we are talking about it, hopefully we will take another look at what these stories tell us about human nature, and to what extent they need or don't need to be censored.
We might want to talk about what the villain's death means to children listening to a tale. We may want to talk about what Rapunzel can tell us about the need for sex education. We might have a discussion about Cinderella's sisters and the body image of young girls. We might talk about Sleeping Beauty and issues of consent. We might even venture to discuss Snow White and the question of taking authority figures' words at face value. And why stop there? Maybe we will even talk about censorship in other media.

Did you know that...? Yes. I did. And I am glad I do.