Angela Carter's Book Of Fairy Tales

by Angela Carter

  ‘Where is the water, wife?’ said the shoemaker. ‘Thou shambling, contemptible old carle, without grace, I have stayed too long thy water and wood slave.’ ‘I am thinking, wife, that thou has turned crazy. Go thou, daughter, quickly, and fetch a drink for thy father.’ His daughter went, and in the same way so it happened to her. She never thought till now that she was so loveable, and she took herself home. ‘Up with the drink,’ said her father. ‘Thou home-spun shoe carle, dost thou think that I am fit to be thy slave.’ The poor shoemaker thought that they had taken a turn in their understandings, and he went himself to the well. He saw the shadow of the maiden in the well, and he looked up to the tree, and he sees the finest woman he ever saw. ‘Thy seat is wavering, but thy face is fair,’ said the shoemaker. ‘Come down, for there is need of thee for a short while at my house.’ The shoemaker understood that this was the shadow that had driven his people mad. The shoemaker took her to his house, and he said that he had but a poor bothy, but that she should get a share of all that was in it. At the end of a day or two came a leash of gentlemen lads to the shoemaker’s house for shoes to be made them, for the king had come home, and he was going to marry. The lads saw the giant’s daughter, and they never saw one so pretty as she. ‘ ’Tis thou hast the pretty daughter, here,’ said the lads to the shoemaker. ‘She is pretty, indeed,’ says the shoemaker, ‘but she is no daughter of mine.’ ‘St Nail!’ said one of them, ‘I would give a hundred pounds to marry her.’ The two others said the very same. The poor shoemaker said that he had nothing to do with her. ‘But,’ said they, ‘ask her tonight, and send us word tomorrow.’ When the gentles went away, she asked the shoemaker – ‘What’s that they were saying about me?’ The shoemaker told her. ‘Go thou after them,’ said she; ‘I will marry one of them, and let him bring his purse with him.’ The youth returned, and he gave the shoemaker a hundred pounds for tocher. They went to rest, and when she had laid down, she asked the lad for a drink of water from a tumbler that was on the board on the further side of the chamber. He went; but out of that he could not come, as he held the vessel of water the length of the night. ‘Thou lad,’ said she, ‘why wilt thou not lie down?’ but out of that he could not drag till the bright morrow’s day was. The shoemaker came to the door of the chamber, and she asked him to take away that lubberly boy. This wooer went and betook himself to his home, but he did not tell the other two how it happened to him. Next came the second chap, and in the same way, when she had gone to rest – ‘Look,’ she said, ‘if the latch is on the door.’ The latch laid hold of his hands, and out of that he could not come the length of the night, and out of that he did not come till the morrow’s day was bright. He went, under shame and disgrace. No matter, he did not tell the other chap how it had happened, and on the third night he came. As it happened to the two others, so it happened to him. One foot stuck to the floor; he could neither come nor go, but so he was the length of the night. On the morrow, he took his soles out of that, and he was not seen looking behind him. ‘Now,’ said the girl to the shoemaker, ‘thine is the sporran of gold; I have no need of it. It will better thee, and I am no worse for thy kindness to me.’ The shoemaker had the shoes ready, and on that very day the king was to be married. The shoemaker was going to the castle with the shoes of the young people, and the girl said to the shoemaker, ‘I would like to get a sight of the king’s son before he marries.’ ‘Come with me,’ says the shoemaker, ‘I am well acquainted with the servants at the castle, and thou shalt get a sight of the king’s son and all the company.’ And when the gentles saw the pretty woman that was here they took her to the wedding-room, and they filled for her a glass of wine. When she was going to drink what is in it, a flame went up out of the glass, and a golden pigeon and a silver pigeon sprung out of it. They were flying about when three grains of barley fell on the floor. The silver pigeon sprang, and he eats that. Said the golden pigeon to him, ‘If thou hadst mind when I cleared the byre, thou wouldst not eat that without giving me a share.’ Again fell three other grains of barley, and the silver pigeon sprang, and he eats that, as before. ‘If thou hadst mind when I thatched the byre, thou wouldst not eat that without giving me my share,’ says the golden pigeon. Three other grains fell, and the silver pigeon sprang, and he eats that. ‘If thou hadst mind when I harried the magpie’s nest, thou wouldst not eat that without giving me my share,’ says the golden pigeon; ‘I lost my little finger bringing it down, and I want it still.’ The king’s son minded, and he knew who it was he had got. He sprang where she was, and kissed her from hand to mouth. And when the priest came they married a second time. And there I left them.

  PARSLEY - GIRL

  (ITALIAN)

  nce upon a time, when it was winter, a woman said: ‘I’ve a real craving for some parsley. There’s lots of parsley in the Holy Sisters’ garden. I’ll go and get some.’

  The first time, she took one sprig of parsley and she didn’t spy a soul. The second time, she took two sprigs and nobody spotted her. But the third time, just as she was picking herself a whole bunch, a hand fell on her shoulder and there was a great big nun.

  ‘What are you doing?’ asked the nun.

  ‘Picking some parsley. I’ve a real craving for some parsley because I’m going to have a baby.’

  ‘Take all the parsley you want, but when you’ve had your baby you must call him Parsley-boy if he’s a boy or Parsley-girl if she’s a girl, and when the baby grows up you must give it to us. That is the price of your parsley.’

  Although she laughed it off at the time, when the woman’s little girl was born she called her Parsley-girl. Sometimes Parsley-girl went to play beside the convent wall. One day one of the nuns called out to her: ‘Parsley-girl! Ask your mother when she’s going to give it to us.’

  ‘All right,’ said Parsley-girl.

  She went home and said to her mother: ‘The nun was asking me, when are you going to give it to them?’

  Her mother laughed and said: ‘Tell them to come and take it themselves.’

  When Parsley-girl went back to play beside the convent wall, the nun said: ‘Parsley-girl, did you ask your mother?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Parsley-girl. ‘And she said you must take it yourself.’

  So the nun stretched out her long arm and picked Parsley-girl up by the scruff.

  ‘Not me!’

  ‘Yes, you!’

  And the nun told Parsley-girl about the parsley and the promise. Parsley-girl burst out crying. ‘Naughty Mummy! She never said a thing!’ When they went inside the convent, the nun said: ‘Put a big pot of water on the fire, Parsley-girl, and when it comes to the boil, in you go! You’ll make us a nice little supper.

  Parsley-girl burst out crying all over again. Up popped a little old man out of a casserole.

  ‘Why are you crying, Parsley-girl?’

  ‘I’m crying because the nuns are going to eat me for supper.’

  ‘They’re not nuns, they’re mean old witches. Put the pot of water on the fire and stop crying.’

  ‘Why should I stop crying? The nuns are going to eat me.’

  ‘Oh, no, they’re not. Take this magic wand. When they come to see if the pot is boiling, give them a little tap with it and they’ll all jump in like frogs into a pond.’

  Although she thought: ‘The little old man only said that to stop me crying,’ she felt a bit better. When the pot boiled, she called out: ‘Sisters! Sisters! The pot is boiling!’

  They all came to see, crying: ‘Oh, what a lovely supper we’re going to have!’ Parsley-girl was scared stiff so she picked up the magic wand and hit them all on their big, fat bottoms and, yes! they all jumped, splash, into the pot.

  ‘Take the pot off the fire, Parsley-girl! We were only joking!’

  ‘Oh, no, you weren’t! You’re not nuns at all, you’re witches! You stay there until you’re good and done, but don’t think I’m going to do you the honour of eating you, you’re much too old and tough. I’ll look on the stove to see what else you’ve go
t.’

  She went to the stove and there, in a casserole, she found a fine young man.

  ‘Hello, fine young man. I’m hungry.’

  ‘Don’t make fun of me. I’m not young at all, I’m old and ugly.’

  ‘Oh, no, you’re not.’ And she showed him his fine reflection in the washing-up bowl. ‘But as for me, I’m just a little girl, worse luck.’

  ‘You’re not a little girl at all,’ he said. ‘I’ll show you.’

  And he measured her up against the wall to show her how tall she’d grown. Then Parsley-girl said: ‘I’m going to make you a proposition.’

  ‘Whatever can it be?’

  ‘Let’s get married.’

  ‘But you’re so pretty and I’m so plain.’

  ‘I think you’re very good-looking, personally.’

  ‘All right. If you want to get married, I’ll marry you.’

  ‘Then let’s have some supper and go to bed. We can find a priest tomorrow.’

  ‘But don’t let’s stay in the convent, because the nuns put the devil in the place where Jesus ought to be.’

  They went to look for the devil but he had turned back into Jesus because of the magic wand. Parsley-girl said: ‘You do realize I’ve killed all the witches, don’t you?’

  They looked inside the pot. It was full of corpses.

  ‘Let’s dig a hole and bury them and then let’s get out of here.’

  They had supper, then they went to bed. They went to the priest in the morning and got married.

  CLEVER GRETEL

  (GERMAN)

  here was once a cook named Gretel, who wore shoes with red heels, and when she went out in them, she whirled this way and that way and was as happy as a lark. ‘You really are quite pretty!’ she would say to herself. And when she returned home, she would drink some wine out of sheer delight. Since the wine would whet her appetite, she would take the best things she was cooking and taste them until she was content. Then she would say, ‘The cook must know what the food tastes like!’

  One day her master happened to say to her, ‘Gretel, tonight I’m having a guest for dinner. Prepare two chickens for me and make them as tasty as possible.’

  ‘I’ll take care of it, sir,’ Gretel responded. So she killed two chickens, scalded them, plucked them, stuck them on a spit, and toward evening placed them over a fire to roast. The chickens began to turn brown and were almost ready, but the guest did not make his appearance. So Gretel called to her master, ‘If the guest doesn’t come soon, I’ll have to take the chickens off the fire. It would be a great shame if they weren’t eaten now, while they’re still at their juiciest.’

  ‘Then I’ll run and fetch the guest myself,’ said the master.

  When the master had left the house, Gretel laid the spit with the chickens to one side and thought, if I keep standing by the fire, I’ll just sweat and get thirsty. Who knows when they’ll come? Meanwhile, I’ll hop down into the cellar and take a drink.

  She ran downstairs, filled a jug with wine, and said, ‘May God bless it for you, Gretel!’ and she took a healthy swig. ‘The wine flows nicely,’ she continued talking, ‘and it’s not good to interrupt the flow.’ So she took another long swig. Then she went upstairs and placed the chickens back over the fire, basted them with butter, and merrily turned the spit. Since the roast chickens smelled so good, Gretel thought, perhaps something’s missing. I’d better taste them to see how they are. She touched one of them with her finger and said, ‘Goodness! The chickens are really good! It’s a crying shame not to eat them all at once!’ She ran to the window to see if her master was on his way with the guest, but when she saw no one coming, she returned to the chickens and thought. That one wing is burning. I’d better eat it up.

  So she cut if off, ate it, and enjoyed it. When she had finished, she thought, I’d better eat the other wing or else my master will notice that something’s missing. After she had consumed the two wings, she returned to the window, looked for her master, but was unable to see him. Who knows, it suddenly occurred to her, perhaps they’ve decided not to come and have stopped somewhere along the way. Then she said to herself, ‘Hey, Gretel, cheer up! You’ve already taken a nice chunk. Have another drink and eat it all up! When it’s gone, there’ll be no reason for you to feel guilty. Why should God’s good gifts go to waste?’

  Once again she ran down into the cellar, took a good honest drink, and then went back to eat up the chicken with relish. When the one chicken had been eaten and her master still had not returned, Gretel looked at the other bird and said, ‘Where one is, the other should be too. The two of them belong together: whatever’s right for one is right for the other. I think if I have another drink, it won’t do me any harm.’ Therefore she took another healthy swig and let the second chicken run to join the other.

  Just as she was in the midst of enjoying her meal, her master came back and called, ‘Hurry, Gretel, the guest will soon be here!’

  ‘Yes, sir, I’ll get everything ready,’ answered Gretel.

  Meanwhile, the master checked to see if the table was properly set and took out the large knife with which he wanted to carve the chickens and began sharpening it on the steps in the hallway. As he was doing that the guest came and knocked nicely and politely at the door. Gretel ran and looked to see who was there, and when she saw the guest, she put her finger to her lips and whispered, ‘Shhh, be quiet! Get out of here as quick as you can! If my master catches you, you’ll be done for. It’s true he invited you to dinner, but he really wants to cut off both your ears. Listen to him sharpening his knife!’

  The guest heard the sharpening and hurried back down the steps as fast as he could. Gretel wasted no time and ran screaming to her master. ‘What kind of guest did you invite!’ she cried.

  ‘Goodness gracious, Gretel! Why do you ask? What do you mean?’

  ‘Well,’ she said, ‘he snatched both chickens just as I was about to bring them to the table, and he’s run away with them!’

  ‘That’s not at all a nice way to behave!’ said her master, and he was disappointed by the loss of the fine chickens. ‘At least he could have left me one of them so I’d have something to eat.’

  He then shouted after the guest to stop running, but the guest pretended not to hear. So the master ran after him, with the knife still in his hand, and screamed, ‘Just one, just one!’ merely meaning that the guest should at least leave him one of the chickens and not take both. But the guest thought that his host was after just one of his ears, and to make sure that he would reach home safely with both his ears, he ran as if someone had lit a fire under his feet.

  THE FURBURGER

  (NORTH AMERICAN)

  lady went into a pet shop to buy a rare exotic animal, one that no one else had. When she told the storekeeper what she wanted, he proceeded to show her everything that he had in the line of rare and exotic animals. After much distress, the lady hadn’t found anything quite unusual enough to suit her taste. She made one last plea to the storekeeper. Out of desperation, the storekeeper said, ‘I do have one animal left that you haven’t seen yet; however, I am somewhat reluctant to show it to you.’ ‘Oh, please do,’ cried the lady.

  So the storekeeper went back into the backroom of the store, and after a little bit returned with a cage. Putting the cage on the counter, the storekeeper proceeded to open the cage and take out the animal and set it on the counter. The lady looked, but all she saw was a piece of fur, not a head or a tail, no eyes, nothing. ‘What in the world is that thing?’ said the lady. ‘It’s a furburger,’ said the storekeeper very nonchalantly. ‘But what does it do?’ asked the lady. ‘Watch very carefully, madam,’ said the storekeeper. Then the storekeeper looked down at the furburger and said, ‘Furburger, the wall!’ And immediately the animal flew over and hit the wall like a ton of bricks, completely destroying the wall and leaving nothing but dust. Then, just as swiftly as before, the furburger flew back and sat on the counter again. Then the storekeeper said, ‘Furburger, t
he door!’ And immediately the animal flew over and hit the door like a ton of bricks, completely demolishing the entire door and doorframe. Then, just as quickly as before, the furburger flew back and sat on the counter.

  ‘I’ll take it,’ said the lady. ‘All right, if you really want it,’ said the storekeeper. And so, as the lady was leaving the store with her fur-burger, the storekeeper said, ‘Pardon me, ma’am, but what are you going to do with your furburger?’ And the lady looked back and said, ‘Well, I’ve been having trouble with my husband lately, and so tonight when I get home, I’m going to put the furburger in the middle of the kitchen floor. And when my husband comes home from work, he will come in the door and look down and say to me, “What in the hell is that?” and I’m going to say, “Why, dear, that’s a furburger.” And my husband will look at me and say, “Furburger, my ass!”’

  PART THREE

  SILLIES

  A POTTLE O’ BRAINS

  (ENGLISH)

  nce in these parts, and not so long gone neither, there was a fool that wanted to buy a pottle o’ brains, for he was ever getting into scrapes through his foolishness, and being laughed at by everyone. Folk told him that he could get everything he liked from the wise woman that lived on the top o’ the hill, and dealt in potions and herbs and spells and things, and could tell thee all as’d come to thee or thy folk. So he told his mother, and asked her if he could seek the wise woman and buy a pottle o’ brains.

  ‘That ye should,’ says she: ‘thou’st sore need o’ them, my son; and if I should die, who’d take care o’ a poor fool such’s thou, no more fit to look after thyself than an unborn baby? but mind thy manners, and speak her pretty, my lad; for they wise folk are gey and light mis-pleased.’