Angela Carter's Book Of Fairy Tales

by Angela Carter

  ‘I see the little girl,’ he said to himself, ‘but I do not see her mother.’ As soon as the little girl saw him, she raced towards him, crying.

  ‘Where is your mother, Kiliingdit?’ he asked her in haste.

  She told him the story of how her mother turned wild, beginning with her mother’s craving for meat and her father’s poisoning her with dog meat.

  ‘When she comes in the evening,’ she explained, ‘her companions are the wives of lions.’

  ‘Will she come tonight?’ asked her uncle.

  ‘She comes every night,’ answered Kiliingdit. ‘But, Uncle, when she comes, please do not reveal yourself to her. She is no longer your sister. She is a lioness. If you reveal yourself to her, she will kill you and the loss will be ours. We shall then remain without anyone to take care of us.’

  ‘Very well,’ he said.

  That night, she came again. She sang her usual song. Kiliingdit sang her response.

  As she approached the platform to pick up her food, she said, ‘Kiliingdit, my daughter, why does the house smell like this? Has a human being come? Has your father returned?’

  ‘Mother, my father has not returned. What would bring him back? Only my little brother and I are here. And were we not human beings when you left us? If you want to eat us, then do so. You will save me from all the troubles I am going through. I have suffered beyond endurance.’

  ‘My darling Kiliingdit,’ she said, ‘how can I possibly eat you? I know I have become a beast of a mother, but I have not lost my heart for you, my daughter. Is not the fact that you cook for me evidence of our continuing bond? I cannot eat you!’

  When Bol heard his sister’s voice, he insisted on going out to meet her, but his niece pleaded with him, saying, ‘Don’t be deceived by her voice. She is a beast and not your sister. She will eat you!’

  So he stayed; she ate and left to join the wives of the lions.

  The next morning, Bol returned to the cattle camp to tell his brothers that their sister had become a lioness. Bewildered by the news, they took their spears and came to their sister’s home. They took a bull with them. They walked and walked and then arrived.

  They went and sat down. The little girl went ahead and prepared the food for her mother in the usual way. Then they all went to sleep. The little girl went into the hut with her baby brother, as usual, but the men slept outside, hiding in wait for their sister.

  She came at night and sang as usual. Kiliingdit responded. She picked up her food and ate with the wives of the lions. Then she brought the dishes back. As she put them back, she said, ‘Kiliingdit!’

  ‘Yes, Mother,’ answered Kiliingdit.

  ‘My dear daughter,’ she continued, ‘why does the house feel so heavy? Has your father returned?’

  ‘Mother,’ said Kiliingdit, ‘my father has not returned. When he abandoned me with this little baby, was it his intention to return to us?’

  ‘Kiliingdit,’ argued the mother, ‘if your father has returned, why do you hide it from me, dear daughter? Are you such a small child that you cannot understand my suffering?’

  ‘Mother,’ Kiliingdit said again, ‘I mean what I say, my father has not come. It is I alone with the little baby. If you want to eat us, then eat us.’

  As the mother turned to go, her brothers jumped on her and caught her. She struggled in their hands for quite a long time, but could not break away. They tied her to a tree. The next morning, they slaughtered the bull they had brought. Then they beat her and beat her. They would tease her with raw meat by bringing it close to her mouth and pulling it away from her. Then they would continue to beat her. As she was teased with meat, saliva fell from her mouth and formed little puppies. They continued to tease her and beat her until three puppies had emerged from her saliva. Then she refused raw meat. She was given roast meat from the bull and she ate it. The brothers beat her some more until she shed all the hairs that had grown on her body.

  Then she opened her eyes, looked at them closely, sat down and said, ‘Please hand me my little baby.’

  The baby was brought. He could no longer suck his mother’s breasts.

  When the mother had fully recovered, her brothers said, ‘We shall take you to our cattle camp. You will not go to the cattle camp of such a man again!’

  But she insisted on going to her husband’s cattle camp, saying, ‘I must go back to him. I cannot abandon him.’

  Her brothers could not understand her. They wanted to attack her husband and kill him, but she argued against that. When she saw that they did not understand her, she told them that she wanted to take care of him in her own way. She was not going back to him out of love but to take revenge. So they left her and she went to her husband.

  When she got to the cattle camp, he was very pleased to have her back. She did not show any grievance at all. She stayed with him, and he was very happy with her.

  One day she filled a gourd with sour milk. She pounded grain and made porridge. Then she served him, saying, ‘This is my first feast since I left you. I hope you give me the pleasure of finding it your heartiest meal.’

  First he drank the milk. Then came the porridge with ghee and sour milk mixed into it. He ate. Then she offered him some more milk to drink on top of the porridge. When he tried to refuse, she pleaded with him. The man ate and ate and ate, until he burst and died.

  A STROKE OF LUCK

  (HUNGARIAN)

  e went ploughing. He was a poor man. The plough cut a furrow and turned up a lot of money. When he set eyes on it, he began to speculate about what to say to his wife. He feared that she might blurt it out to the neighbours, and they would be served a summons to appear before the magistrate.

  He went and bought a hare and a fish.

  When she brought him his midday meal, he said to her after he had dined, ‘Let’s fry a fish.’

  She said, ‘What do you think! How could we catch a fish here in the field?’

  ‘Come on, woman, I’ve just seen a couple of them, when I was ploughing around the blackthorn shrub.’ He led her to the blackthorn shrub.

  Says the woman, ‘Look, old man, there’s a fish.’

  ‘Haven’t I told you so?’ And he flung the ox goad at the shrub so that the fish turned out at once.

  Then he said, ‘Let’s catch a hare.’

  ‘Don’t be kidding me. You haven’t got a gun.’

  ‘Never mind. I’ll knock it off with the ox goad.’

  They were going along when she cried out, ‘Look! There’s a hare on the tree yonder there.’

  The man flung his goad at the tree and the hare fell down.

  They were working till the day drew to a close, and in the evening they made their way home. When they went past the church, they heard an ass braying.

  The man said to the woman, ‘You know what the ass is braying? He is saying, “The priest says in his sermon that soon a comet will appear and that will be the end of the world!”’

  They went on. When they passed the city hall, the ass uttered another loud bray. The man said, ‘The ass says that “The magistrate and the town clerk have just been caught embezzling public funds.”’

  As time wore on they were making good use of their money.

  The neighbours kept asking them, ‘Where did that lot of money come from?’

  Then she said to one of the neighbour women, ‘I wouldn’t mind telling you, but you mustn’t pass it on to anyone.’ And she told her that they had found the money. Their neighbour reported it to the magistrate, and they were summoned to appear before him. And when he was questioned about the money, the man denied it. By no means did they find any money. Not a penny had been found by them.

  The magistrate then said, ‘Your wife will tell me.’

  ‘What’s the use asking her. She’s just a silly woman,’ he said.

  The woman flew into a temper and began to shout at him. ‘Don’t you dare say that again. Didn’t we find the money when we caught the fish under the blackthorn bush?’

/>   ‘Now Your Honour may hear for yourself. Catching a fish in a bush. What next!’

  ‘Can’t you remember how you shot down a hare from the tree with the ox goad?’

  ‘Well, haven’t I told Your Honour? It’s no use asking that fool of a woman.’

  ‘A fool you are yourself. Have you forgotten that on our way home we heard an ass braying when we passed the church, and you said that the priest was preaching that a comet would appear and that would be the end of the world.’

  ‘Now wasn’t I right, Your Honour? It would be better to leave her alone, or she might give offence with her silly talk.’

  The woman flew into a rage and said, ‘Don’t you remember that when we were passing the city hall and the ass uttered a loud bray you were telling me, “that the magistrate and the town clerk have been just caught out . . .”’ The magistrate jumped to his feet and said to the man, ‘Take her home, my good man, she seems to have lost her wits.’

  THE BEANS IN THE QUART JAR

  (USA: HILLBILLY)

  he old man had taken sick and thought he’s gonna die anyway, so he called his wife in and confessed, he said, ‘I been stepping out, and I want to be honest with you, and I want to ask your forgiveness before I go.’ And she said, ‘All right’, and ‘I’ll forgive you.’ She forgive him.

  By and by, she was taken sick and she called him in and she said, ‘No, look, I stepped out quite a lot, and I want to ask forgiveness.’ He said, ‘Yes, I’ll forgive you.’ She said, ‘Every time I stepped out I put a bean in a quart jar. And you’ll find they’re all there on that mantelpiece, except that quart I cooked the other Saturday.’

  PART THIRTEEN

  USEFUL STORIES

  A FABLE OF A BIRD AND HER CHICKS

  (YIDDISH)

  nce upon a time a mother bird who had three chicks wanted to cross a river. She put the first one under her wing and started flying across. As she flew she said, ‘Tell me, child, when I’m old, will you carry me under your wing the way I’m carrying you now?’

  ‘Of course,’ replied the chick. ‘What a question!’

  ‘Ah,’ said the mother bird, ‘you’re lying.’ With that she let the chick slip, and it fell into the river and drowned.

  The mother went back for the second chick, which she took under her wing. Once more as she was flying across the river, she said, ‘Tell me, child, when I’m old, will you carry me under your wing the way I’m carrying you now?’

  ‘Of course,’ replied the chick. ‘What a question!’

  ‘Ah,’ said the mother bird, ‘you’re lying.’ With that she let the second chick slip, and it also drowned.

  Then the mother went back for the third chick, which she took under her wing. Once more she asked in mid-flight, ‘Tell me, child, when I am old, will you carry me under your wing the way I’m carrying you now?’

  ‘No, mother,’ replied the third chick. ‘How could I? By then I’ll have chicks of my own to carry.’

  ‘Ah, my dearest child,’ said the mother bird, ‘you’re the one who tells the truth.’ With that she carried the third chick to the other bank of the river.

  THE THREE AUNTS

  (NORWEGIAN)

  nce upon a time there was a poor man who lived in a hut far away in the wood, and got his living by shooting. He had an only daughter, who was very pretty, and as she had lost her mother when she was a child, and was now half grown up, she said she would go out into the world and earn her bread.

  ‘Well, lassie!’ said the father, ‘true enough you have learnt nothing here but how to pluck birds and roast them, but still you may as well try to earn your bread.’

  So the girl went off to seek a place, and when she had gone a little while, she came to a palace. There she stayed and got a place, and the queen liked her so well that all the other maids got envious of her. So they made up their minds to tell the queen how the lassie said she was good to spin a pound of flax in four-and-twenty hours, for you must know the queen was a great housewife, and thought much of good work.

  ‘Have you said this? Then you shall do it,’ said the queen; ‘but you may have a little longer time if you choose.’

  Now, the poor lassie dared not say she had never spun in all her life, but she only begged for a room to herself. That she got, and the wheel and the flax were brought up to her. There she sat sad and weeping, and knew not how to help herself. She pulled the wheel this way and that, and twisted and turned it about, but she made a poor hand of it, for she had never even seen a spinning-wheel in her life.

  But all at once, as she sat there, in came an old woman to her. ‘What ails you, child?’ she said.

  ‘Ah!’ said the lassie, with a deep sigh, ‘it’s no good to tell you, for you’ll never be able to help me.’

  ‘Who knows?’ said the old wife. ‘Maybe I know how to help you after all.’

  Well, thought the lassie to herself, I may as well tell her, and so she told her how her fellow-servants had given out that she was good to spin a pound of flax in four-and-twenty hours.

  ‘And here am I, wretch that I am, shut up to spin all that heap in a day and a night, when I have never even seen a spinning-wheel in all my born days.’

  ‘Well, never mind, child,’ said the old woman. ‘If you’ll call me Aunt on the happiest day of your life, I’ll spin this flax for you, and so you may just go away and lie down to sleep.’

  Yes, the lassie was willing enough, and off she went and lay down to sleep.

  Next morning when she awoke, there lay all the flax spun on the table, and that so clean and fine, no one had ever seen such even and pretty yarn. The queen was very glad to get such nice yarn, and she set greater store by the lassie than ever. But the rest were still more envious, and agreed to tell the queen how the lassie had said she was good to weave the yarn she had spun in four-and-twenty hours. So the queen said again, as she had said it she must do it; but if she couldn’t quite finish it in four-and-twenty hours, she wouldn’t be too hard upon her, she might have a little more time. This time, too, the lassie dared not say no, but begged for a room to herself, and then she would try. There she sat again, sobbing and crying, and not knowing which way to turn, when another old woman came in and asked, ‘What ails you, child?’

  At first the lassie wouldn’t say, but at last she told her the whole story of her grief.

  ‘Well, well!’ said the old wife, ‘never mind. If you’ll call me Aunt on the happiest day of your life, I’ll weave this yarn for you, and so you may just be off, and lie down to sleep.’

  Yes, the lassie was willing enough; so she went away and lay down to sleep. When she awoke, there lay the piece of linen on the table, woven so neat and close, no woof could do better. So the lassie took the piece and ran down to the queen, who was very glad to get such beautiful linen, and set greater store than ever by the lassie. But as for the others, they grew still more bitter against her, and thought of nothing but how to find out something to tell about her.

  At last they told the queen the lassie had said she was good to make up the piece of linen into shirts in four-and-twenty hours. Well, all happened as before; the lassie dared not say she couldn’t sew; so she was shut up again in a room by herself, and there she sat in tears and grief. But then another old wife came, who said she would sew the shirts for her if she would call her Aunt on the happiest day of her life. The lassie was only too glad to do this, and then she did as the old wife told her, and went and lay down to sleep.

  Next morning when she awoke she found the piece of linen made up into shirts, which lay on the table – and such beautiful work no one had ever set eyes on; and more than that, the shirts were all marked and ready for wear. So, when the queen saw the work, she was so glad at the way in which it was sewn, that she clapped her hands, and said, ‘Such sewing I never had, nor even saw, in all my born days’; and after that she was as fond of the lassie as of her own children; and she said to her, ‘Now, if you like to have the prince for your husband, you shall have him; for you w
ill never need to hire work-women. You can sew, and spin, and weave all yourself.’

  So as the lassie was pretty, and the prince was glad to have her, the wedding soon came on. But just as the prince was going to sit down with the bride to the bridal feast, in came an ugly old hag with a long nose – I’m sure it was three ells long.

  So up got the bride and made a curtsy, and said, ‘Good-day, Auntie.’

  ‘That auntie to my bride?’ said the prince.

  ‘Yes, she was!’

  ‘Well, then, she’d better sit down with us to the feast,’ said the prince; but to tell you the truth, both he and the rest thought she was a loathsome woman to have next you.

  But just then in came another ugly old hag. She had a back so humped and broad, she had hard work to get through the door. Up jumped the bride in a trice, and greeted her with ‘Good-day, Auntie!’

  And the prince asked again if that were his bride’s aunt. They both said, yes; so the prince said, if that were so, she too had better sit down with them to the feast.

  But they had scarce taken their seats before another ugly old hag came in, with eyes as large as saucers, and so red and bleared, ’twas gruesome to look at her. But up jumped the bride again, with her ‘Good-day, Auntie’, and her, too, the prince asked to sit down; but I can’t say he was very glad, for he thought to himself, ‘Heaven shield me from such aunties as my bride has!’

  So when he had sat a while, he could not keep his thoughts to himself any longer, but asked ‘But how, in all the world can my bride, who is such a lovely lassie, have such loathsome misshapen aunts?’

  ‘I’ll soon tell you how it is,’ said the first. ‘I was just as good-looking when I was her age; but the reason why I’ve got this long nose is, because I was always kept sitting, and poking, and nodding over my spinning, and so my nose got stretched and stretched, until it got as long as you now see it.’