Simple Kindness is Golden

Ever get the feeling that rudeness in on the rise? I know it's not a new idea, but that doesn't mean it bears ignoring. Just like anything that requires correcting, it should be revisited.In fairy tales princesses and women who will be princesses are always praised for their quiet accommodation and politeness, which I have noted on more than a few occasions in the blog. However, I've been remiss. Civility isn't just a princess virtue.The story, The Golden Goose, by the Brothers Grimm tells the story of three brothers, the youngest of who is kind despite his family's scorn. Despite being given sour beer and a sooty biscuit, when he's approached by a stranger hoping to share, he does gladly. For his considerateness, he's given a golden goose. In the end, he wins the hand of an unhappy princess when he makes her laugh.It's rare when a gentle act from a man in fairy tales is rewarded. I'll admit that having to marry a man just because your father says the next man to make you laugh can have you is problematic at best, but it's one of the few instances I've found that has a male-centered story who doesn't have to kill or employ trickery to be rewarded. And he wasn't expecting a reward. He just wanted to help an old man in the forest. It's refreshing, in its way.I don't know if I have a conclusion for this post other than to state we should all try being a little kinder to each other. Happy Tuesday!

April Fool

I think of April first as a time for the topsy-turvy to take over. I think the weather has a lot to do with it.I've never been one for tricks because I really do believe in the golden rule. If I drop a balloon full of pudding on someone's head can I really avoid a prank call about my car being totaled?Instead I want to write about the role of The Fool in fairy tales, one of the chief archetypes. What they all seem to have in common is that they are good for no reason. Their families go out of their way to give them the worst of everything and ridicule them for any kindness they show. So does that mean that a fool in the times of the Grimm Brothers was kind despite the wretchedness of his life?One of my favorite stories is The Golden Goose. The youngest of three sons (they're always the youngest of three) has to chop wood for his family because the elder two have had terrible axing accidents after denying a old man some of their lunch (talk about fools!). The Simpleton, who is given vinegar instead of cider and hard bread offers to share the meal and is rewarded with a Golden Goose. After parading around town with the treasure, and having townspeople stick to it and each other trying to pull off a feather, he arrives in a town that offers the hand of a princess if they can make her laugh. Being simple and not having noticed the train of buffoons behind him, he shows her the goose, everyone falls and she laughs thus proving that girls like guys who can make them laugh.Another story, The Queen Bee, runs along the same lines except he helped animals and insects who helped him in return. He and his smarter, older brothers are given impossible tasks to complete and the young idiot gets it done with the help of some ants, some ducks, and a bee. For his trouble he wins himself a castle and a princess to marry. These are called serendipitous fools, very popular in fairy tales. Couldn't we all take a lesson from that?I recommend that for today, instead of giving your best friend a fake winning lottery ticket or calling your parents and telling them you just got married, try being a fairy tale fool. Be nice for no reason and here's the kicker...people will think you're up to something thus playing the biggest trick of all. Happy April Fools!

Adventures in Fairy Tale Land

As a child, when I read, heard and watched fairy tales it was always with a British accent. Mostly English, but occasionally Irish or Scottish. I was convinced, and movies seemed to back me up, that when Europeans congregated they all spoke English with an accent straight from Oxford. With that in mind, I assumed that all fairy tales were from the British Isles. From the Grimm Brothers to Hans Christian Andersen, all of them were from the English countryside. It stood to reason. Castles were in Britain. The Queen was in Britain, so it had to be true. Years, schooling and research have disabused me of that belief on an intellectual level. But in my heart, fairy tales have an accent.So, it was with great joy and more than a touch of whimsy that I set off on my vacation to the Lake District and Edinburgh (also the reason that I've been so negligent with my blog. I don't believe in internet in fairy land) hoping to have a fairy tale adventure. The countryside did not disappoint. I walked fells and through pastoral scenes that would make an shepherdess feel at home. I trudged through forests and scrambled through ghylls that held perfect hiding places for the fairy folk and maybe a wolf or two lying in wait for Red Riding Hood. I even walked through the world of Beatrix Potter, who although isn't strictly a writer of fairy tales, is still a staple from my childhood reading menu.Edinburgh was more gothic and therefore more Grimm, but in the nicest way possible. I climbed castle towers and ramparts almost expecting knights to lay siege. That may have been the whiskey haze, but I could see it. Swords, spears, and a stone of destiny were mythic, yet close enough to touch. Mary, Queen of Scots was like Rapunzel in the tower at Holyrood. This was not my first trip to the UK, but since starting my blog and committing to being a writer, it felt like a new place. Every corner was a literary opportunity and I could understand why I thought Britain was Fairy Tale Land as a child. I'll admit that this post sounds like a long digression on how I spent my summer vacation, but I thought it was important to share the most important thing about fairy tales. Why we love them. Why we read them. Why they're the stuff of dreams and nightmares. Please remember, dear reader, what matters most about fairy tales...WONDER

The Straw Maiden (aka Rumpelstiltskin) Part 3

When last we saw our heroine, a small man had entered her chamber filled with straw unnoticed."Can I help?" ventured the visitor. Startled, the crying maiden failed to respond. Wiping her face and smoothing her rumpled hair she looked at the man who had just entered. He was no bigger than an adolescent, but had the eyes of an old soul. Despite her shock, she found nothing threatening about him."Unless you can spin straw into gold, I fear, I can only ask you for a handkerchief," she said with a wry smile."Lucky for you I can do both," he said as he handed her a crisp handkerchief. She looked at him and finally took in his whole appearance. He was not as small as she first thought, just slight of build. His face was kind, but guarded as though he was unsure of his welcome. But he quickly warmed when at his task. The straw became gold filigree before her eyes."What can I give you in return?" she asked fearful of his demands. She was not naive to the ways of the world and knew some men would press an advantage."Your company. Tell me about yourself and I'll tell you as much as I can about myself," he replied. They talked for hours, hesitantly at first and then as old friends, laughing and sharing. When dawn broke the work was done and, fearing they would never meet again, she pressed the small bracelet into his hand. Before either could say more, the door was being unlocked and he vanished.The king swept in and barely noticed the look of contempt on the maiden's face. He was hungry for the sight of so much gold it blinded him to all else. He finally acknowledged her with a cursory nod."Come with me," he said with a smile that was not for her. He kept her with him all day although he made no attempt at conversation. For her part, she kept her eyes downcast partly to continue her show of modesty, but also giving herself the opportunity to think about her night visitor. At the end of the day, she was exhausted and assumed the guard would return her to her room. Instead a turn down a new corridor brought her to another room with enough straw to dwarf last night's offering. The same spinning wheel stood in the middle of the straw mountain. After a sleepless night and a day of being observed yet ignored, despair gave way to sleep.She awoke to the familiar sound of the spinning wheel and her friend in quiet concentration addressing the task at hand."I brought you something to remember me by," he said over his shoulder. "Look in my satchel."Inside she found a book of herb lore and healing. She smiled her first real smile since last seeing him and its warmth reached him. She was touched that he remembered her speaking of her wish to learn more about healing to help others. The spinning took most of the night to finish this time, but they passed it as pleasantly as the night before. Before leaving he was emboldened to kiss her. She pressed her mother's ring into his hand and asked him to return for her.That day was much like the last except the king smiled at her more. Perhaps it was to put her at ease, but it had the opposite effect. On this night the king himself led her away. She didn't know whether to fear another room of straw or his bedchamber, but neither choice would have been welcomed. Nevertheless he opened the door to an unfathomable amount of straw, and with a look of pure arrogance said "If you finish this by morning, not only will I spare you and your father, but I shall make you my queen."He did not stay for her reaction, so sure was he of her gratitude and the honor she must feel. She dropped to the ground and with such incentive as marriage to this odious man started calculating how she could save herself and her father. It was at this point that her spinning friend appeared from the shadows."I have tried in vain to rescue your father, but he knows of the kings plans. He hopes to see you married to him and knows you will be well provided for," he said with a heavy heart. Her hand had found its way to him and they stood for a moment regarding each other. Then he set to work.He was like a man possessed working furiously and silently. He finished well before sunrise and in a rush of words, tears and the thought of never seeing each other again, were soon entwined on a bed of gold thread. He promised to return for her with her father to escape. He left then, but the memory of their shared gift stayed with her.The king arrived as always and was awed by the golden glow "Now we shall be wed," he said looking at the gold. For her part, she looked to the shadows and hoped her spinner would return in time. It was at that moment, she realized she never asked his name......To Be Continued...

Story #1 Rumpelstiltskin

As written by J.L.C. & W.C. Grimm (hereafter to be called the Grimm brothers), Rumpelstiltskin is the story of a miller who brags to his king that his beautiful and clever daughter can spin straw into gold. The greedy king takes the girl and tells her she must spin a rooms full of gold, each one bigger than the last, on pain of death. Each night the maiden cries and a little man comes offering to do the task for her at a price. On the third and last night the king says he will marry her if she spins one more room full of straw into gold. Stripped of her possessions from the last two nights of work, the little man demands her first born child by the king. She agrees, the task is completed and the miller's daughter becomes queen. She soon forgets her promise, but after becoming a mother the little man returns to collect his prize. She begs for him to reconsider and offers him half the kingdom, but he refuses. Instead he gives her three days to learn his name. She searches the kingdom and on the last day a palace guard discovers an unusual little man singing to himself in the woods. He reveals his name is Rumpelstiltskin. The lady rejoices, says his name and a fuming Rumpelstiltskin leaves without his prize.Most notably the story does not end with the prerequisite "...and they lived happily ever after". Even the Grimm brothers understood that this story would be a stretch when it came to happiness. When I read this to my daughter the first time I had so many questions that I fully admit I doubt I had when I was her age.

1. Why did her father brag to the king about something she clearly couldn't do?
2. How was she able to marry a man who, the day before, was going to kill her?
3. Who goes around listening at doors for crying maidens who need their straw spun into gold?

   I already had an opinion written out about this story, but what struck me the most while I wrote out the summary was the importance of names. With only one exception, everyone in the story had a title, but not a name. The story is resolved by the power of knowing someone's name. Yet we never learn the name of the miller, queen, king, palace guard, or the prize, the royal baby (which in some versions dies). It's things like this that beg for completion. In an attempt to answer my own questions about the story, I've rewritten it, but opted to retain the feel of storytelling. Click here for my version of the story, The Straw Maiden.

BTW, I completely appreciate the observation that I'm starting my posts with a story about the importance of names and I have not included my own name in this blog. I too believe names are important and feel a Rumpelstiltskin-like desire to guard it ;)