And so the search continued. Entering at one gate and leaving at the next, the queen visited the houses of the nobles and the merchants and the goldsmiths. She saw the daughters of the craftsmen and the tradesmen. She went into the huts of the water carriers and the weavers, and stopped at each house until only the fishermen’s hovels in the bank of the river were left. Every evening when the prince asked for news, she said, ‘I’ll find her, I’ll find her.’
When the fisherfolk were told that the queen was coming to visit their houses, that wily fisherman’s wife got busy. She bathed her daughter and dressed her in her best, she rinsed her hair with henna and rimmed her eyes with kohl and rubbed her cheeks till they glowed red. But still when the girl stood beside the fisherman’s daughter, it was like a candle in the sun. Much as the stepchild had been illtreated and starved, through the will of Allah and with the help of the little red fish, she had grown in beauty from day to day. Now her stepmother dragged her out of the house and into the yard. She pushed her into the bakehouse and covered its mouth with the round clay tray on which she spread her dough. This she held down with the stone of her handmill. ‘Don’t dare move until I come for you!’ said the stepmother. What could the poor girl do but crouch in the ashes and trust in Allah to save her?
When the queen arrived the stepmother pushed her daughter forward, saying, ‘Kiss the hands of the prince’s mother ignorant child!’ As she had done in the other houses, the queen set the girl beside her and held up her foot and measured the golden clog against it. Just at that moment the neighbor’s rooster flew into the yard and began to crow,
Ki-ki-ki-kow!
Let the king’s wife know
They put the ugly one on show
And hid the beauty down below!
Ki-ki-ki-kow!
He began again with his piercing cry, and the stepmother raced out and flapped her arms to chase him away. But the queen had heard the words, and she sent her servants to search both high and low. When they pushed aside the cover off the mouth of the oven, they found the girl – fair as the moon in the midst of the ashes. They brought her to the queen, and the golden clog fit as if it had been the mold from which her foot was cast.
The queen was satisfied. She said, ‘From this hour that daughter of yours is betrothed to my son. Make ready for the wedding. God willing, the procession shall come for her on Friday.’ And she gave the stepmother a purse filled with gold.
When the woman realized that her plans had failed, that her husband’s daughter was to marry the prince while her own remained in the house, she was filled with anger and rage. ‘I’ll see that he sends her back before the night is out,’ she said.
She took the purse of gold, ran to the perfumer’s bazaar and asked for a purge so strong that it would shred the bowels to tatters. At the sight of the gold the perfumer began to mix the powders in his tray. Then she asked for arsenic and lime, which weaken hair and make it fall, and an ointment that smelled like carrion.
Now the stepmother prepared the bride for her wedding. She washed her hair with henna mixed with arsenic and lime and spread the foul ointment over her hair. Then she held the girl by the ear and poured the purge down her throat. Soon the wedding procession arrived, with horses and drums fluttering bright clothes, and the sounds of jollity. They lifted the bride on to the litter and took her away. She came to the palace preceded by music and followed by singing and chanting and clapping of hands. She entered the chamber, the prince lifted the veil off her face and she shone like a fourteen-day moon. A scent of amber and roses made the prince press his face to her hair. He ran his fingers over her locks, and it was like a man playing with cloth of gold. Now the bride began to feel a heaviness in her belly, but from under the hem of her gown there fell gold pieces in thousands till the carpet and the cushions were covered with gold.
Meanwhile the stepmother waited in her doorway, saying ‘Now they’ll bring her back in disgrace. Now she’ll come home all filthy and bald.’ But though she stood in the doorway till dawn, from the palace no one came.
The news of the prince’s fair wife began to fill the town, and the master merchant’s son said to his mother, ‘They say that the prince’s bride has a sister, I want her for my bride.’ Going to the fisherman’s hut, his mother gave the fisherman’s wife a purse full of gold and said, ‘Prepare the bride, for we shall come for her on Friday if God wills.’ And the fisherman’s wife said to herself, ‘If what I did for my husband’s daughter turned her hair to threads of gold and her belly to a fountain of coins, shall I not do the same for my own child?’ She hastened to the perfumer and asked for the same powders and drugs, but stronger than before. Then she prepared her child, and the wedding procession came. When the merchant’s son lifted her veil, it was like lifting the cover off a grave. The stink was so strong that it choked him, and her hair came away in his hands. So they wrapped the poor bride in her own filth and carried her back to her mother.
As for the prince, he lived with the fisherman’s daughter in great happiness and joy, and God blessed them with seven children like seven golden birds.
Mulberry, mulberry,
So ends my story.
If my house were not so far
I’d bring you figs and raisins in a jar.
THE WICKED STEPMOTHER
(WEST AFRICAN: TOGOLAND)
here was once a certain man who had two wives. The first one bore him a boy-child and the other had no children. Now it came to pass that the mother of the boy became sick, and when she knew that death was near she sent for the second wife and placed in her charge her son, saying: ‘I am going away now and must leave my boy. Take him and care for him and feed him as if he were your own. The second wife agreed, and shortly after the woman died.
But the surviving wife forgot her promise and ill-treated the motherless boy. She gave him neither food nor clothing, and the wretched child had to seek what he could find for himself.
One day the woman called the child to her and said that he was to accompany her into the bush to get firewood. The boy obeyed and went with the woman. When they were a long way from the village the woman went into the bush for the sticks and the boy sat down in the shade of a big tree. Presently he noticed a lot of fruit had fallen from the tree and he began to eat it. He was very hungry and only when all the fallen fruit had been eaten was his hunger satisfied. He then fell asleep, and after a while when he awoke he found he was again hungry. But there was no fruit on the ground and he was far too small to reach up to the branches to gather some. So he began to sing, and as he sang a song in praise of the tree, lo! the branches of the tree bent down to him and enabled him to climb up. He then took all the food he could eat and collected some to take home in the rag which did service for a cloth. Then, still singing, he climbed down and waited for the woman. She soon came and they both went home.
Some days later the boy was seated outside the house eating the fruit he had gathered when the woman saw him and asked him what he had there. He told her, and the woman took some and said that it was good. She then told the boy to go with her to the tree so that they could get some more of this new and excellent fruit.
They went, and when they drew near the tree the boy began to sing again, and the tree obediently bent down its branches, and the woman climbed up. Then the boy ceased his song and the branches sprang up, taking with them the woman. The woman called to the boy, but he answered that Nyame had now given him sense and had shown him how to procure food, and that as she had neglected him so he would now neglect her. He then went home to the village.
Now when he arrived all the people asked him where was the woman, and he replied that she had gone to the bush to get firewood. Evening came and still no woman. So the people assembled under the village tree and again asked the boy, but he replied as before.
On the following morning they again collected, and began to beg the boy to show them where he had left his stepmother. When they had begged him for a long time he at last consented and led the
m into the bush, where the people saw the woman at the top of the tree. They asked her how she had managed to get there and she told them. Then they all begged the boy to sing. For a long time he refused, but at last as they begged him so long he agreed and began to sing his praise of the tree. Immediately the branches bent down and the woman was freed.
Then everyone went back to the village and reported to the chief what they had seen. He at once called all the elders and sent for the woman. He told her that had the boy not consented to sing she would not have been rescued, and he ordered her to give an account of how she had treated the motherless child. She confessed she had done wrong, and then the chief said: ‘Now let all men know from this that when a man has many wives the children shall be treated as the children of them all. To each woman her husband’s son shall be a son, and each child shall call each of his father’s wives mother.’
TUGLIK AND HER GRANDDAUGHTER
(INNUIT)
nce there was a big narwhal hunt to which everyone went but an old woman named Tuglik and her granddaughter Qujapik. The two of them were getting rather hungry, but they hadn’t any idea of how to hunt for their food. Yet old Tuglik knew a few magical words, which she uttered during a trance. All of a sudden she changed into a man. She had a seal-bone for a penis and chunk of mataq for testicles. Her vagina became a sledge. She said to her granddaughter:
‘Now I can travel to the fjords and get some food for us.’
The girl replied: ‘But what about dogs to pull your sledge?’
And so strong was the old woman’s magic that she was able to create a team of dogs from her own lice. The dogs were barking and yelping and ready to go, so Tuglik cracked her whip and off she went with them to the fjords. Day after day she went off like this, and she would always return in the evening with some sort of game, even if it was only a ptarmigan or two. Once, while she was away hunting, a man came to their hut. He looked around and said:
‘Whose harpoon is this, little girl?’
‘Oh,’ said Qujapik, ‘it is only my grandmother’s.’
‘And whose kayak is this?’
‘Just my grandmother’s.’
‘You seem to be pregnant. Who is your husband?’
‘My grandmother is my husband.’
‘Well, I know someone who would make a better husband for you . . .’
Now the old woman returned home with a walrus thrown over her sledge. ‘Qujapik!’ she called out, ‘Qujapik!’ But there was no Qujapik at all. The girl had gathered up all her things and left the village with her new husband.
Tuglik saw no point in being a man any more – man or woman, it’s all the same when a person is alone. So she uttered her magic words and once again she was a wrinkled old hag with a vagina instead of a sledge.
THE JUNIPER TREE
(GERMAN)
ll this took place a long time ago, most likely some two thousand years ago. There was a rich man who had a beautiful and pious wife, and they loved each other very much. Though they did not have any children, they longed to have some. Day and night the wife prayed for a child, but still none came, and everything remained the same.
Now, in the front of the house there was yard, and in the yard stood a juniper tree. One day during winter the wife was under the tree peeling an apple, and as she was peeling it, she cut her finger, and her blood dripped on the snow.
‘Oh,’ said the wife, and she heaved a great sigh. While she looked at the blood before her, she became quite sad, ‘If only I had a child as red as blood and as white as snow!’ Upon saying that, her mood changed, and she became very cheerful, for she felt something might come of it. Then she went home.
After a month the snow vanished. After two months everything turned green. After three months the flowers sprouted from the ground. After four months all the trees in the woods grew more solid, and the green branches became intertwined. The birds began to sing, and their song resounded throughout the forest as the blossoms fell from the trees. Soon the fifth month passed, and when the wife stood under the juniper tree, it smelled so sweetly that her heart leapt for joy. Indeed, she was so overcome by joy that she fell down on her knees. When the sixth month had passed, the fruit was large and firm and she was quite still. In the seventh month she picked the juniper berries and ate them so avidly that she became sad and sick. After the eighth month passed, she called her husband to her and wept.
‘If I die,’ she said, ‘bury me under the juniper tree.’
After that she was quite content and relieved until the ninth month had passed. Then she had a child as white as snow and as red as blood. When she saw the baby, she was so delighted that she died.
Her husband buried her under the juniper tree, and he began weeping a great deal. After some time he felt much better, but he still wept every now and then. Eventually, he stopped, and after more time passed, he took another wife. With his second wife he had a daughter, while the child from the first wife was a little boy, who was as red as blood and as white as snow. Whenever the woman looked at her daughter she felt great love for her, but whenever she looked at the little boy, her heart was cut to the quick. She could not forget that he would always stand in her way and prevent her daughter from inheriting everything, which was what the woman had in mind. Thus the devil took hold of her and influenced her feelings toward the boy until she became quite cruel toward him: she pushed him from one place to the next, slapped him here and cuffed him there, so that the poor child lived in constant fear. When he came home from school, he found no peace at all.
One time the woman went up to her room, and her little daughter followed her and said, ‘Mother, give me an apple.’
‘Yes, my child,’ said the woman, and she gave her a beautiful apple from the chest that had a large heavy lid with a big sharp iron lock.
‘Mother,’ said the little daughter,’ shouldn’t brother get one too?’
The woman was irritated by that remark, but she said, ‘Yes, as soon as he comes home from school.’ And, when she looked out of the window and saw he was coming, the devil seemed to take possession of her, and she snatched the apple away from her daughter.
‘You shan’t have one before your brother,’ she said and threw the apple into the chest and shut it.
The little boy came through the door, and the devil compelled her to be friendly to him and say, ‘Would you like to have an apple, my son?’ Yet, she gave him a fierce look.
‘Mother,’ said the little boy, ‘how ferocious you look! Yes, give me an apple.’
Then she felt compelled to coax him.
‘Come over here,’ she said as she lifted the lid, ‘Take out an apple for yourself.’
And as the little boy leaned over the chest, the devil prompted her, and crash! she slammed the lid so hard that his head flew off and fell among the apples. Then she was struck by fear and thought, How am I going to get out of this? She went up to her room and straight to her dresser, where she took out a white kerchief from a drawer. She put the boy’s head back on to his neck and tied the neckerchief around it so nothing could be seen. Then she set him on a chair in front of the door and put the apple in his hand.
Some time later little Marlene came into the kitchen and went up to her mother, who was standing by the fire in front of a pot of hot water, which she was constantly stirring.
‘Mother,’ said Marlene, ‘brother’s sitting by the door and looks very pale. He’s got an apple in his hand, and I asked him to give me the apple, but he didn’t answer, and I became very scared.’
‘Go back to him,’ said the mother, ‘and if he doesn’t answer you, give him a box on the ear.’
Little Marlene returned to him and said, ‘Brother, give me the apple.’
But he would not respond. So she gave him a box on the ear, and his head fell off. The little girl was so frightened that she began to cry and howl. Then she ran to her mother and said, ‘Oh, Mother, I’ve knocked my brother’s head off!’ And she wept and wept and could not be comforted.
‘Marlene,’ said the mother, ‘what have you done! You’re not to open your mouth about this. We don’t want anyone to know, and besides there’s nothing we can do about it now. So we’ll make a stew out of him.’
The mother took the little boy and chopped him into pieces. Next she put them into a pot and let them stew. But Marlene stood nearby and wept until all her tears fell into the pot, so it did not need any salt.
When the father came home, he sat down at the table and asked, ‘Where’s my son?’
The mother served a huge portion of the stewed meat, and Marlene wept and could not stop.
‘Where’s my son?’ the father asked again.
‘Oh,’ said the mother, ‘he’s gone off into the country to visit his mother’s great uncle. He intends to stay there for a while.’
‘What’s he going to do there? He didn’t even say goodbye to me.’
‘Well, he wanted to go very badly and asked me if he could stay there six weeks. They’ll take good care of him.’
‘Oh, that makes me sad,’ said the man. ‘It’s not right. He should have said goodbye to me.’ Then he began to eat and said, ‘Marlene, what are you crying for? Your brother will come back soon.’ Without pausing he said, ‘Oh, wife, the food tastes great! Give me some more!’ The more he ate, the more he wanted. ‘Give me some more,’ he said, ‘I’m not going to share this with you. Somehow I feel as if it were all mine.’
As he ate and ate he threw the bones under the table until he was all done. Meanwhile, Marlene went to her dresser and took out her best silk neckerchief from the bottom drawer, gathered all the bones from beneath the table, tied them up in her silk kerchief, and carried them outside the door. There she wept bitter tears and laid the bones beneath the juniper tree. As she put them there, she suddenly felt relieved and stopped crying. Now the juniper tree began to move. The branches separated and came together again as though they were clapping their hands in joy. At the same time smoke came out of the tree, and in the middle of the smoke there was a flame that seemed to be burning. Then a beautiful bird flew out of the fire and began singing magnificently. He soared high in the air, and after he vanished, the juniper tree was as it was before. Yet, the silk kerchief was gone. Marlene was very happy and gay. It was as if her brother were still alive, and she went merrily back into the house, sat down at the table, and ate.
Angela Carter's Book Of Fairy Tales Page 19