Angela Carter's Book Of Fairy Tales
Page 27
‘What do you want me to do, son? There’s nobody here.’ She calmed him down and gave him food. Then she told him, little by little.
He said, ‘Where’s the girl,’ he said. ‘Let her come out so I can see her.’ So Luisa came out and asked him about the Greenish Bird. He said, ‘Me, I don’t know. I haven’t heard of him. I don’t know where to find him. I haven’t seen anything like that, either. It could be that the Moon’s mother, or the Moon herself, would know,’ he said.
Well then, ‘All right, I’m going now.’ Without tasting a bite of food. So then the Sun told her to eat first and then go. And so then they gave her something to eat, and she left.
All right, so she got to the house where the Moon’s mother lived. And so, ‘What are you doing here? If my daughter the Moon sees you, she will devour you.’ And I don’t know how many other things the old woman said to her.
‘Well then, I’ll go. I just wanted to ask her if she hadn’t seen the Greenish Bird pass by here.
He was here. Look, there’s the blood; he’s very badly wounded,’ she said.
All right, so she started to go away, but the Moon said, ‘Hombre, don’t go. Come eat first, and then you can go.’ So they also gave her a bite to eat. As soon as they gave her something, she left. ‘Why don’t you go where the mother of the Wind lives and wait for the Wind to come home? The Wind goes into every nook and cranny; there isn’t a place he doesn’t visit.’
The mother of the Wind said, ‘All right,’ so she hid. She said, ‘But you’ll have to hide, because if my son the Wind sees you, Heaven help us.’
‘All right,’ she said.
The Wind came home, all vapoury and very angry, and his mother told him to behave, to take a seat, to sit down and have something to eat. So he quieted down. And then the girl told him that she was looking for the Greenish Bird.
But no. ‘I can’t tell you anything about that. I’ve never seen anything,’ he said.
Well, so the girl went out again, but they gave her breakfast first and all that. The thing is that by the time she did find out, she had worn out the iron shoes she was wearing. It happened that there was an old hermit way out there, who tended to all the birds. He would call them by blowing on a whistle, and they would all come, and all kinds of animals, too. So she went there, too. And he asked her what she was doing out there, in those lonely wilds, and this and that. So she told the hermit, ‘I’m in search of the Greenish Bird. Don’t you know where he lives?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘What I do know is that he was here. And he’s badly wounded. But let me call my birds, and it may be that they know or have heard where he is, or something.’
Well, no. All the birds were called, but the old eagle was missing. The old eagle was right in the middle of it, eating tripe. The prince was to be married, but he had prayed to God that he would get leprosy, something like sores, and he was ill with sores. He was hoping Luisa would get there. But they were getting ready to marry him. The bride was a princess and very rich, but even so he didn’t love her. He wanted to wait for his Luisa. Well then, so the old eagle was missing. The old man, the hermit, began blowing and blowing on his whistle until she came.
‘What do you want, hombre? There I was, peacefully eating tripe, and you have to carry on like that, with all that blowing.’
‘Wait, don’t be mean.’ he said. ‘There’s a poor girl here looking for the Greenish Bird. She says she’s his sweetheart and is going to marry him.’
‘She’s looking for the Greenish Bird? The Greenish Bird is about to get married. The only reason he hasn’t married yet is that he’s very sick of some sores. Hmm, yes. But the wedding feast is going on, and the bride’s mother is there and everything. But, anyway, if she wants to go, it’s all right. I just came from there. I was there eating tripe and guts and all that stuff they throw away. If she wants to go, all she has to do is butcher me a cow, and we’ll go.’
The girl heard, and she was very happy, even if he was getting married and all that. The hermit called her, and she came out, and she saw all kinds of birds. And he said, ‘The old eagle says that if you butcher a cow, she will take you all the way to the very palace.’
All right, she said she would. For she had plenty of money with her. The bird had made her well off from the beginning. He would have married her then and there, if it hadn’t been for those bratty sisters of hers. So all right, so they did go. She slaughtered the cow, and the eagle took her and the cow on her back. She would fly high, high, high; and then she would start coming down.
‘Give me a leg,’ she would say. And she would eat the meat. That’s why we say a person is ‘an old eagle’ when they ask for meat. She would give her meat. And, ‘What do you see?’
‘Nothing,’ she would say. ‘You can’t see anything yet. It’s a very pretty palace made of nothing but glass. It will shine in the sun,’ the eagle would say. ‘I don’t see anything yet.’ And she would keep on going, straight, straight ahead, who knows how far. And then she would fly up, and up, and up.
‘What do you see?’
‘Well, something like a peak that shines. But it’s very far away.’
‘Yes, it’s very far.’
So the cow was all eaten up, and still they didn’t get there. And she said she wanted more meat. Luisa said, ‘Here, take the knife.’ She told the eagle that. ‘Cut off one of my legs, or I’ll cut it off myself,’ Luisa told the eagle. But she didn’t say it wholeheartedly, of course. Not a chance.
Anyway the eagle said, ‘No, no. I only said it to test you. I’m going to leave you just outside because there are many cops around – or something like that – guarding the doors. You ask permission to go in from one of them. Tell them to let the ladies know you are coming in to cook. Don’t ask for anything else,’ she said. ‘Get a job as a cook and then, well, we’ll see how things go for you.’
All right, so she left Luisa just outside the yard. It was a great big yard made of pure gold or God knows what. As beautiful as could be. She asked the guard to let her in. ‘And what is your reason for going in? What are you going to do?’
She said. ‘Well. I’m very poor, and I’ve come from a long way off. And I’m looking for work. Anything I can do to eat, no matter if it is working in the kitchen.’ And her carrying a golden comb, and all that the Greenish Bird had given her. And the guitar.
‘Let me go ask the mistress,’ he said, to see if they want to hire some kitchen help.’ So he went and told her, ‘A woman is looking for work.’ And who knows what else.
‘What kind of woman is she?’
‘Well, she is like this, and this way, and that way.’
‘All right, tell her to come in, and have her go around that way, so she won’t come in through here in the palace,’ she said. She didn’t want her to go through the house.
So she went over there. And everybody was very kind to her. Meanwhile the Greenish Bird was a person now, but he was all leprous and very sick. There was a little old woman who had raised him. She was the one who took care of him. They had her there as a servant. First she had raised the boy, when she worked for his parents. Then she had moved over here, to the bride’s house. She was no bride when the old woman first came there, but the girl had fallen in love with him. But he loved his Luisa.
And well, the wedding feast was in full swing, you might say, and he began to feel much better, for he heard a guitar being played, and he asked the old woman why they hadn’t told him there were strangers in the house.
And when he heard the guitar, he told the woman who was taking care of him, who came to see him when he was sick, ‘Who is singing and playing the guitar?’
‘Oh, I had forgotten to tell you. A lady came wearing a pair of worn-out iron shoes, and she also has a guitar and a comb.’
‘Is there anything on the comb?’
‘Well, I don’t know.’ She couldn’t read any more than I can.
‘I don’t know what’s on it. They look like little wreaths or letters or I d
on’t know what.’
‘Ask her to lend it to you and bring it here.’ And once he heard about the guitar, once he heard the guitar playing and all, he began to get well. He got much better. But neither the mother and father of the girl nor anybody else came to see him there.
He was all alone with the woman who took care of him. Because he looked very ugly. But then the woman went and told the princess who was going to be his mother-in-law, ‘You should see how much better the prince is, the Greenish Bird. He is quite well now.’
So they all came to see him. And that made him angrier yet, because they came to see him now that he was well. The girl was very rich and a princess and all that, and Luisa was a poor little thing. But he said, ‘Go ask her to lend you her comb and bring it to me.’
The old woman went and asked for the comb as if she wanted to comb her hair, and she went back where he was. He didn’t say anything; he just looked at it.
‘What do you say?’
‘No, nothing,’ he said. ‘Tomorrow, or this afternoon, when they bring me food, have her bring it to me. She’s working here, after all,’ he said.
So when it was time to take him his dinner, she said, ‘Listen, Luisa, go take the prince his dinner. I’m very tired now. I’m getting old.’ Luisa didn’t want to go; she was putting on. She hung back and she hung back, but at last she went.
Well, they greeted each other and saw each other and everything. And she said, ‘Well, so you are already engaged and are going to get married,’ Luisa said. ‘And one cannot refuse anything to kings and princes.’
‘But I have an idea, ever since I heard the guitar,’ said the boy.
‘What is it?’
‘Everybody is going to make chocolate, and the cup I drink, I’ll marry the one who made it.’
And she says, ‘But I don’t even know how to make chocolate!’
The old woman said she would make it for her, the woman who was taking care of him. Because Luisa went and told her about it. ‘Just imagine what the prince wants. For all of us to come in, cooks and no cooks and absolutely all the women here, princesses and all. And each one of us must make a cup of chocolate, and the cup he drinks, he’ll marry the woman who made it.’ And she said. ‘I don’t know how . . .’
‘Now, now,’ said the old woman, ‘don’t worry about that. I’ll make it for you. And you can take it to him.’
Well, the first to come in were all the big shots, as is always the case. First the bride, then the mother-in-law, the father-in-law, sisters-in-law, and everybody. And all he said was, ‘I don’t like it. I don’t like it.’
The mother-in-law said, ‘Now, I wonder who he wants to marry?’ And, ‘I wonder who he wants to marry?’
Well . . . nobody. So then the old woman who took care of him came. Neither. Then the other cook went in. And Luisa was the last one. He told them that she was the one he wanted to marry. That she had come searching for him from very far away, and that he would marry her. And he drank all of Luisa’s cup of chocolate. Bitter or not, he didn’t care. And he married her. And colorin so red, the story is finished.
THE CRAFTY WOMAN
(LITHUANIAN)
man and his young wife, who had settled down to life in a village, agreed so well that neither of them pronounced a single unpleasant word, they only caressed and kissed each other. For fully six months the Devil did his best to make the pair quarrel, but, at last, irritated by continued failure, he expressed his rage by making a disagreeable noise in his throat and made ready to depart. However, an old woman who was roaming about met him and said, ‘Why are you annoyed?’ The Devil explained, and the woman, on the understanding that she would receive some new bast shoes and a pair of boots, endeavoured to make the young couple disagree. She went to the wife while the husband was at work in the fields and, having begged for alms, said, ‘Ah, my dear! how pretty and good you are! Your husband ought to love you from the depths of his soul. I know you live more amicably than any other couple in the world, but, my daughter! I will teach you to be yet happier. Upon your husband’s head, at the very summit, are a few grey hairs, you must cut them off, taking care that he does not notice what you are about.’
‘But how shall I do that?’
‘When you have given your husband his dinner, tell him to lie down and rest his head upon your lap, then as soon as he goes to sleep, whip a razor out of your pocket and remove the grey hairs.’ The young wife thanked her adviser and gave her a present.
The old woman went immediately to the field and warned the husband that a misfortune threatened him, since his amiable wife not only had betrayed him, but intended that afternoon to kill him and later to marry someone richer than himself. When at midday, the wife arrived and, after his meal, placed her husband’s head upon her knees, he pretended to be asleep and she took a razor from her pocket in order to remove the grey hairs. Instantly the exasperated man jumped on to his feet and, seizing his wife by the hair, began to abuse and strike her. The Devil saw all and could not believe his eyes; soon he took a long pole, attached loosely to one end of it the promised bast shoes and boots, and without coming close, passed them to the old woman. ‘I will not on any account approach nearer to you,’ he said, ‘lest you should in some way impose upon me, for you really are more crafty and cunning than I am!’ Having delivered the boots and bast shoes, the Devil vanished as quickly as if he had been shot from a gun.
PART NINE
UP TO SOMETHING – BLACK ARTS AND DIRTY TRICKS
PRETTY MAID IBRONKA
(HUNGARIAN)
here was a pretty girl in the village. That is why she was called by the name of Pretty Maid Ibronka. But what of it, if all the other girls – and what a bevy of them used to gather to do their spinning together – had a lover to themselves, and she alone had none? For quite a while she waited patiently, pondering over her chances, but then the thought took hold of her mind: ‘I wish God would give me a sweetheart, even if one of the devils he were.’
That evening, when the young were together in the spinning room, in walks a young lad in a sheepskin cape and a hat graced with the feather of a crane. Greeting the others, he takes a seat by the side of Pretty Maid Ibronka.
Well, as is the custom of the young, they start up a conversation, talking about this and that, exchanging news. Then it happened that the spindle slipped from Ibronka’s hand. At once she reached down for it and her sweetheart was also bending for it, but as her groping hand touched his foot, she felt it was a cloven hoof. Well, great was her amazement as she picked up her spindle.
Ibronka went to see them out, as on that evening the spinning had been done at her place. Before separating they had a few words together, and then they bid each other goodbye. As is the custom of the young they parted with an embrace. It was then that she felt her hand go into his side, straight through his flesh. That made her recoil with even greater amazement.
There was an old woman in the village. To that woman she went and said, ‘Oh mother, put me wise about this. As you may know, for long they have been wagging their tongues in the village, saying that of all the village girls, only Pretty Maid Ibronka is without a sweetheart. And I was waiting and waiting for one, when the wish took hold of my mind that God would give me a sweetheart, even if one of the devils he were. And on that very same evening a young man appeared, in a sheepskin cape and a hat graced with a crane feather. Straight up to me he walked and took a seat by my side. Well, we started up a conversation, as is the custom of the young, talking about this and that. I must have become heedless of my work and let the spindle slip from my hand. At once I reached down to pick it up, and so did he, but as my groping hand chanced to touch his foot, I felt it was a cloven hoof. This was so queer it made me shudder. Now put me wise, mother, what should I be doing now?’
‘Well,’ she said, ‘go and do the spinning at some other place, changing from here to there, so you can see if he will find you.’
She did so and tried every spinning room there was in the
village, but wherever she went, he came after her. Again she went to see the old woman. ‘Oh mother, didn’t he come to every single place I went? I see I shall never get rid of him this way, and I dare not think of what is going to come of all this. I do not know who he is, nor from where he came. And I find it awkward to ask him.’
‘Well, here’s a piece of advice to you. There are little girls in the village who are just learning to spin, and they find it good practice to wind the thread into balls. Get yourself such a ball, and when they gather again at your place for the spinning, see them out when they leave, and while you are talking to each other before parting, fuss about until you can get the end of the thread tied in a knot round a tuft in his sheepskin cape. When he takes leave and goes his way, let the thread unwind from the ball. When you feel that there is no more to come, make it into a ball again, following the track of the unwound thread.’
Well, they came to her place to do the spinning. The ball of thread she kept in readiness. Her sweetheart was keeping her waiting. The others began teasing her: ‘Your sweetheart is going to let you down, Ibronka!’
‘To be sure, he won’t. He will come; only some business is now keeping him away.’
They hear the door open. They stop in silence and expectation: who is going to open the door? It is Ibronka’s sweetheart. He greets them all and takes a seat at her side. And as is the custom of the young, they make conversation, each having something to tell the other. Amid such talk the time passes.
‘Let’s be going home, it must be close to midnight.’
And they did not tarry long, but quickly rose to their feet and gathered their belongings.
‘Good night to you all!’
And they file off and leave the room, one after the other. Outside the house a final goodbye was said, and each went his way and was soon bound homeward.
And the pair drew closer to each other and were talking about this and that. And she was manipulating the thread until she got the end knotted round a tuft of wool in his sheepskin cape. Well, they did not make long with their conversation as they began to feel the chill of the night. ‘You better go in now, my dear,’ he said to Ibronka, ‘or you’ll catch cold. When the weather turns mild we may converse at greater leisure.’