by Maria Tatar
After dining, they heard a loud noise, and the merchant tearfully bid adieu to his poor daughter, for he knew it must be Beast. Beauty could not help but tremble at the sight of this horrible figure, but she tried as hard as she could to stay calm. The monster asked her if she had come of her own free will and, trembling, she replied that she had.
“You are very kind,” said Beast, “and I am very grateful to you. As for you, my good man, get out of here by tomorrow morning and don’t think of coming back here ever again. Goodbye, Beauty.”
“Goodbye, Beast,” she replied. Suddenly the monster vanished.
“Oh, my daughter!” cried the merchant, embracing Beauty. “I am half dead with fear. Trust me, you have to let me stay,” he said.
“No, Father,” Beauty said firmly. “You must go tomorrow morning and leave me to the mercy of heaven. Heaven may still take pity on me.”
They both went to bed thinking that they would not be able to sleep all night long, but they had hardly climbed into their beds when their eyes closed. While she was sleeping, Beauty saw a woman who said to her: “I am pleased with your kind heart, Beauty. The good deed you have done in saving your father’s life will not go unrewarded.”
Upon awakening, Beauty recounted this dream to her father. While it comforted him a little, it did not keep him from crying out loud when he had to leave his dear daughter. After he left, Beauty sat down in the great hall and began to cry as well. But since she was courageous, she put herself in God’s hands and resolved not to bemoan her fate during the short time she had left to live. Convinced that Beast was planning to devour her that very evening, she decided to walk around the grounds and to explore the castle while awaiting her fate. She could not help but admire the castle’s beauty, and she was very surprised to find a door upon which was written: “Beauty’s Room.” She opened it hastily and was dazzled by the radiant beauty of that room. She was especially impressed by a huge bookcase, a harpsichord, and various music books. “Someone does not want me to get bored!” she said softly. Then she realized: “If I had only one hour left to live, no one would have made such a fuss about the room.” This thought lifted her spirits.
She opened the bookcase and saw a book, on the cover of which was written in gold letters: “Your wish is our command. Here you are queen and mistress.”
“Alas,” she sighed, “I only wish to see my poor father again and to know what he’s doing now.”
She said this to herself, so you can imagine how surprised she was when she looked in a large mirror and saw her father arriving at his house with a dejected expression. Her sisters went out to meet him, and, despite the faces they made in order to look as if they were distressed, they were visibly happy to have lost their sister. A moment later, everything in the mirror vanished. Beauty could not help thinking that Beast was most obliging and that she had nothing to fear from him.
At noon, Beauty found the table set and, during her meal, she heard an excellent concert, even though she could not see a soul. That evening, as she was about to sit down at the table, she heard Beast making noises, and she could not keep herself from trembling.
“Beauty,” said the monster, “will you let me watch you dine?”
“You are my master,” said Beauty, trembling.
“No, you are the only mistress here,” replied Beast. “If I bother you, order me to go, and I will leave at once. Tell me, do you find me very ugly?”
“Yes, I do,” said Beauty. “I don’t know how to lie. But I also think you are very kind.”
“You are right,” said the monster. “But in addition to being ugly, I also lack intelligence. I know very well that I am nothing but a beast.”
“You can’t be a beast,” replied Beauty, “if you know that you lack intelligence. A fool never knows that he is stupid.”
“Go ahead and eat, Beauty,” said the monster, “and try not to be bored in your house, for everything here is yours, and I would be upset if you were not happy.”
“You are very kind,” said Beauty. “I swear to you that I am completely pleased with your good heart. When I think of it, you no longer seem ugly to me.”
“Oh, of course,” Beast replied. “I have a kind heart, but I am still a monster.”
“There are certainly men more monstrous than you,” said Beauty. “I like you better, even with your looks, than men who hide false, corrupt, and ungrateful hearts behind charming manners.”
“If I were intelligent,” said Beast, “I would pay you a great compliment to thank you. But I am so stupid that all I can say is that I am very much obliged.”
Beauty ate with a hearty appetite. She no longer dreaded the monster, but she thought that she would die of fright when he said: “Beauty, would you be my wife?”
It took her a moment to reach the point of answering. She was afraid to provoke the monster by refusing him. Trembling, she said to him: “No, Beast.”
At that moment, the poor monster meant to sigh deeply, but he made such a frightful whistling sound that it echoed throughout the palace. Beauty felt better soon, however, because Beast, turning to look at her from time to time, left the room and said adieu in a sad voice. Finding herself alone, Beauty felt great compassion for poor Beast. “Alas,” she said, “it is too bad he is so ugly, for he is so kind.”
Beauty spent three peaceful months at the castle. Every evening, Beast paid her a visit and, while she was dining, entertained her with good plain talk, though not with what the world would call wit. Each day Beauty discovered new good qualities in the monster. Once she began seeing him every day, she became accustomed to his ugliness, and, far from fearing his arrival, she often looked at her watch to see if it was nine o’clock yet. Beast never failed to appear at that hour. There was only one thing that still bothered Beauty. The monster, before leaving, always asked her if she wanted to be his wife, and he seemed deeply wounded when she refused.
One day she said to him: “You are making me feel upset, Beast. I would like to be able to marry you, but I am far too candid to allow you to believe that that could ever happen. I will always be your friend. Try to be satisfied with that.”
“I will have to be,” Beast replied. “I don’t flatter myself, and I know that I’m horrible looking, but I love you very much. However, I am very happy that you want to stay here. Promise me that you will never leave.”
Beauty blushed at these words. She had seen in her mirror that her father was sick at heart about having lost her. She had been hoping to see him again. “I can promise you that I will never leave you,” she said to Beast. “But right now I am so longing to see my father again that I would die of grief if you were to deny me this wish.”
“I would rather die myself than cause you pain,” said Beast. “I will send you back to your father. Stay there, and your poor beast will die of grief.”
“No,” Beauty said, bursting into tears, “I love you too much to be the cause of your death. I promise to return in a week. You have let me see that my sisters are married and that my brothers have left to serve in the army. Father is living all alone. Let me stay with him for just a week.”
“You will be there tomorrow morning,” said Beast. “But don’t forget your promise. All you have to do is put your ring on the table before going to sleep when you want to return. Goodbye, Beauty.”
As was his habit, Beast sighed deeply after speaking, and Beauty went to bed feeling very sad to see him so dejected. The next morning, on waking up, she was in her father’s house. She pulled a cord at the side of her bed and a bell summoned a servant, who uttered a loud cry upon seeing her. The good man of the house came running when he heard the cry, and he almost died of joy when he saw his beloved daughter. They held each other tight for over a quarter of an hour. After the first waves of excitement subsided, Beauty realized that she didn’t have any clothes to wear. But the servant told her that she had just discovered in the roo
m next door a huge trunk full of silk dresses embroidered with gold and encrusted with diamonds. Beauty thanked Beast for his thoughtfulness. She took the least ornate of the dresses and told the servant to lock up the others, for she wanted to make a present of them to her sisters. Hardly had she spoken these words when the chest disappeared. When her father told her that Beast wanted her to keep everything for herself, the dresses and the chest reappeared on the spot.
While Beauty was getting dressed, her two sisters learned about her arrival and hurried over to meet her with their husbands. Both sisters were very unhappy. The older one had married a remarkably handsome gentleman, but he was so enamored of his own good looks that he spent all day in front of a mirror. The other one had married a man of great wit, but he used it to infuriate everybody, first and foremost his wife. Beauty’s sisters were so mortified that they felt ready to die when they saw her dressed like a princess and more beautiful than the day is bright. Beauty tried in vain to shower them with attention, but nothing could restrain their jealousy, which only increased when Beauty told them how happy she was. These two envious women walked down to the garden so that they could weep freely. They both asked themselves: “Why should this little beast enjoy more happiness than we do? Aren’t we more likable than she is?”
“Dearest sister,” the older one said, “I have an idea. Let’s try to keep Beauty here for more than a week. Her stupid beast will get angry when he sees that she has broken her promise, and maybe he’ll eat her up.”
“You’re right,” the other one replied. “To make that work, we will have to lavish affection on her and act as if we are delighted to have her here.”
Having made this decision, the two nasty creatures returned to Beauty’s room and showed her so much affection that she nearly wept for joy. When the week had gone by, the two sisters started tearing out their hair and performed so well that Beauty promised to stay another four or five days. At the same time she felt guilty about the grief she was causing poor Beast, whom she loved with all her heart and missed seeing. On the tenth night she spent at her father’s house, she dreamed that she was in the garden of the palace when she saw Beast lying in the grass, nearly dead and reproaching her for her ingratitude. Beauty woke up with a start and began crying. “Aren’t I terrible,” she said, “for causing grief to someone who has done so much to please me? Is it his fault that he’s ugly and lacks intelligence? He is kind. That’s worth more than anything else. Why haven’t I wanted to marry him? I would be happier with him than my sisters are with their husbands. It is neither good looks nor great wit that makes a woman happy with her husband, but character, virtue, and kindness, and Beast has all those good qualities. I may not be in love with him, but I feel respect, friendship, and gratitude toward him. If I made him unhappy, my lack of appreciation would make me feel guilty for the rest of my life.”
With these words, Beauty got up, wrote a few lines to her father to explain why she was leaving, put her ring on the table, and went back to bed. She had hardly gotten into bed when she fell sound asleep. And when she awoke in the morning, she was overjoyed to find herself in Beast’s palace. She dressed up in magnificent clothes just to make him happy and spent the day feeling bored to death while waiting for the clock to strike nine. But the clock struck nine in vain. Beast was nowhere in sight.
Beauty feared that she might be responsible for his death. She ran into every room of the castle, crying out loud. She was in a state of despair. After having searched everywhere, she remembered her dream and ran into the garden, toward the canal where she had seen Beast in her sleep. She found poor Beast stretched out unconscious, and she was sure that he was dead. Feeling no revulsion at his looks, she threw herself on him and, realizing that his heart was still beating, she got some water from the canal and threw it on him. Beast opened his eyes and told Beauty: “You forgot your promise. The thought of having lost you made me decide to starve myself. But now I will die happy, for I have the pleasure of seeing you one more time.”
“No, my dear Beast, you will not die,” said Beauty. “You will live and become my husband. From this moment on, I give you my hand in marriage, and I swear that I belong only to you. Alas, I thought that I felt only friendship for you, but the grief I am feeling makes me realize that I cannot live without you.”
Scarcely had Beauty uttered these words when the castle became radiant with light. Fireworks and music alike signaled a celebration. But these attractions did not engage her attention for long. She turned back to look at her dear Beast, whose perilous condition made her tremble with fear. How great was her surprise when she discovered that Beast had disappeared and that a young prince more beautiful than the day was bright was lying at her feet, thanking her for having broken a magic spell. Even though she was worried about the prince, she could not keep herself from asking about Beast. “You see him at your feet,” the prince said. “An evil fairy condemned me to remain in that form until a beautiful girl would consent to marry me. She barred me from revealing my intelligence. You were the only person in the world kind enough to be touched by the goodness of my character. Even by offering you a crown, I still can’t fully discharge the obligation I feel to you.”
Pleasantly surprised, Beauty offered her hand to the handsome prince to help him get up. Together, they went to the castle, and Beauty nearly swooned with joy when she found her father and the entire family in the large hall. The beautiful lady who had appeared to her in a dream had transported them to the castle.
“Beauty,” said the lady, who was a grand fairy, “come and receive the reward for your wise choice. You preferred virtue to looks and intelligence, and so you deserve to see those qualities united in a single person. You will become a noble queen, and I hope that sitting on a throne will not destroy your many virtues. As for you, my dear ladies,” the fairy continued, speaking to Beauty’s two sisters, “I know your hearts and all the malice that is in them. You will be turned into two statues, but you will keep your senses beneath the stone that envelops you. You will be transported to the door of your sister’s palace, and I can think of no better punishment than being a witness to her happiness. You will not return to your former state until you recognize your faults. I fear that you may remain statues forever. You can correct pride, anger, gluttony, and laziness. But a miracle is needed to convert a heart filled with malice and envy.”
The fairy waved her wand, and everyone there was transported to the great hall of the prince’s realm, where the subjects were overjoyed to see him. The prince married Beauty, who lived with him for a long time in perfect happiness, for their marriage was founded on virtue.
EAST OF THE SUN AND WEST OF THE MOON
Norway
The zoologist Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and the parish priest Jørgen Moe joined forces in nineteenth-century Norway to collect folktales and create a rich cultural heritage. The two had been friends for over a decade when they published their first collection, Norske Folkeeventyr, a work inspired by the Brothers Grimm and praised by them after its publication. Asbjørnsen and Moe conducted fieldwork in an effort to preserve regional folklore. They sought to create standard versions of folktales based on multiple regional variations. “East of the Sun and West of the Moon” shares many features with Apuleius’s “Cupid and Psyche,” as well as with Madame de Beaumont’s “Beauty and the Beast.” Its hard-luck heroine outdoes nearly every fairy-tale figure in her optimistic energy and opportunistic zeal.
Once upon a time there was a poor farmer with so many children that he no longer had enough food for them, and barely enough to clothe them. They were all pretty children, but the loveliest was the youngest daughter, who was so beautiful that there was no end to her beauty.
One Thursday evening late in the fall, the weather was stormy, and it was dreadfully dark outside. Rain was pounding down on the roof, and the wind was blowing so fiercely that the cottage walls began to shake. The farmer and his children were all sitting aroun
d the fire, busy with one thing or another. All at once there were three taps on the window. The father went outside to find out what was going on. What should he see out there but a great big white bear!
“Good evening to you,” said the white bear.
“Good evening to you too,” the man replied.
“Will you let me have your youngest daughter? If you do, I will make you as rich as you are now poor,” the bear said.
Well, the man thought it would not be a bad idea to be rich, but he thought he ought to talk things over with his daughter before making any agreements with the bear. He went back into the house and told everyone about the great white bear waiting outside and how the bear had promised to make him rich in exchange for the youngest daughter.
The girl said “No!” outright. Nothing could make her change her mind. So the farmer went out and told the white bear that he should come back next Thursday evening for an answer. In the meantime, he started talking with his daughter and kept on telling her how rich they would be and how well she herself would do. Finally, she agreed to the exchange. She washed and mended her tattered clothes and made herself up to look as smart as she could. It didn’t take long for her to prepare for the trip, for she didn’t have much to carry.
A week later the white bear came to fetch her. She climbed on his back with her little bundle, and off they went. After they had traveled a good stretch down the road, the white bear asked her, “Are you afraid?”