Speak Bird Speak Again

by Folktales

  "The Green Bird" adds a new dimension to our understanding of the brother/sister relationship. With the father, as usual, under the control of a new wife, the brother and sister are left on their own. The tale thus juxtaposes two sets of relationships. Obviously, the second relationship, that between brother and sister, is superior to the first, for there a power struggle, which seems inescapable when a man marries a stranger, is nonexistent. By presenting the sister as crying over the brother's bones, bringing him back to life through her love, and then living with him, the tale idealizes their relationship, bringing them almost, but not quite, to the point of marriage.

  "The Green Bird" provides a meaningful due concerning the cultural emphasis on first-cousin marriage, a union we encounter throughout the corpus. First-cousin marriage ideally combines both brother/sister and husband/wife relationships. Because a man's first cousin is almost as close to him as his own sister, his relationship with her should be characterized by brotherly tenderness. Yet because she is not a direct blood relative, the relationship can be a sexual one, but without encompassing the conflict the husband would face if he were to marry a stranger.

  "The Orphans' Cow" takes the relationship presented in "The Green Bird" a step further. Here the brother and sister are put into situations that serve to increase their affection. Following the death of their mother, they become progressively more isolated and come to rely on each other more and more; indeed, their very survival depends on their mutual love and cooperation. To demonstrate the importance of this connection between brother and sister, "The Orphans' Cow," like "The Green Bird," juxtaposes two relationships: sister/brother and wife/husband. Although the brother cannot be as a husband to his sister, equally important, a husband can never be as a brother to his wife. It is therefore as essential that the sister have her brother by her side as that she have a husband. The transformation of the brother into a gazelle because of his own stubbornness makes the point even more dearly, for it would be much easier for the sister to abandon an animal than a human being. Yet, though transformed, he is still her brother, and when faced with the choice of sacrificing him or marrying, even a king, the sister chooses to keep him by her wherever she goes. This transformation also serves two other related functions: it allows the sister both to marry without offending the brother and to bring him back to human form - with the husband helping to effect the second transformation. The sister has thereby gained a husband without losing her brother, and all three live together in harmony.

  "Little Nightingale the Crier" (presented in Arabic in Appendix A) also carries the theme of the ideal relationship between brother and sister, but it adds a new dimension. In this tale the brothers and sister live together happily, free from family constraints and parental authority - an ideal situation. Yet something is missing, and it is not hard to guess what that is, considering the central importance of marriage in a woman's life.

  When a girl marries, she is lost to her family, and it is not unusual for them, especially the women, to sing dirgelike songs (tarawid or fraqiyyat, "songs of parting") when the bridegroom's relatives come to take away their daughter. For the daughter, the move from the house of her father

  to that of her husband entails a change in sexual and social status. Hence, many brides are too shy, especially of their male relatives, to visit their natal families soon after marriage. Their brothers may worry that their husbands are not treating them decently, and the husbands for their part may fear that their brides are too attached to their natal families. The bride, then, must try to bridge the gap between her two families in order to erase anxieties on both sides. In light of this background, we see why the brothers in the tale did not (or could not) stand up to Little Nightingale's challenge: they are in effect unwilling, or unable, to let go of her.

  Looking ahead to Tale 12, we see an explicit equation of bird with husband. It would therefore be reasonable to assume that Little Nightingale represents the same idea, albeit less explicitly. Through the use of symbol, the tale - which, it is important to recall, children will hear - treats the taboo subject of sexuality with utmost delicacy. When the brothers are unable to bring back Little Nightingale, the girl has the perfect excuse of going to save them without compromising her honor. Once she is secure of her mate, as we may conclude from the image of the bird in the cage dangling from her arm, she can revive her brothers. Thus she becomes a model woman, gaining both her brothers and a husband, but without losing her individual identity. And, of course, Little Nightingale is instrumental in bringing about the reunion Of the children with their family at the end, thereby completing the circle. Thus Samsizzha, like Bdur in "The Orphans' Cow," where the choice between husband and brother is presented more explicitly, gains a husband without risking the loss of either her brothers or her honor.

  SEXUAL AWAKENING AND COURTSHIP

  11.

  The Little Bird

  TELLER: Allah is the only God!

  AUDIENCE: There is no god but He!

  Once upon a time there was a little bird. She dug in the earth and dug, she dyed her hands with henna. She dug in the earth and dug, she dyed her feet with henna. She looked up to the Lord, and He beautified her eyes with kohl. She went on digging and digging, and found a bolt of silk. "What am I going to do with this?" she asked herself. "By Allah, I'm going to have it made into a dress."

  So she went to the seamstress. "Take this," she said, "and make dresses out of it - one for me and the other for you." Coming back later, she said, "Let me see which is better, my dress or yours." She then took them to have a look, put them in her beak, and - frrrr! - away she flew. She hid them in a tree and came back the next day.

  She dug and dug in the same place, and found two scarves. "Oh, how beautiful they are!" she cried out. "By Allah, I must take them to the girl who can crochet a fringe on them." So she went to this girl and said, "Do one for me and the other for you." In a while, she came back. "Let me see which is prettier," she said, "yours or mine." Putting the scarves in her beak, she tricked the girl, and - frrrr! - away she flew.

  Then, little darlings, she went back and dug once again, and found some cotton. "Oh, how beautiful it is!" she cried out. Going to the mat-

  tress maker, she said, "Would you make me a mattress from this cotton, uncle, and please make another one as payment for yourself." He took the cotton and made a mattress for himself and another for her. "Let me see if you made my mattress exactly like yours," she said when she came back. "Maybe you made yours bigger than mine."

  "Take them and see," replied the man.

  She took them, put them in her beak, and - frrrr! - away she flew. Folding each of them over, she had four layers, just like a bride's seat. She put on both her silk dresses, one on top of the other, wrapped the scarves around her head, and what did she look like but a bride, sitting in the bridal seat with henna on her hands and feet, kohl in her eyes, and wearing all those clothes.

  She sat awhile. Then, my little darlings, came the son of the sultan, who was roaming the neighborhood looking for something. Meanwhile, she was singing:

  "I'm wearing my very best!

  Ya-la-lal-li

  And this is the day of my feast

  Ya-la-lal-la."

  "Eh!" he thought. "Who is singing like that?" He listened carefully, and behold! it was the little bird singing. Aiming his gun, he fired and shot her. She sang her song:

  "What a sharp shooter!

  Ya-la-lal-li

  What a sharp shooter!

  Ya-la-lal-la."

  He then plucked her feathers, and she was singing:

  "A fine feather-plucker!

  Ya-la-lal-li

  A fine feather-plucker!

  Ya-la-lal-la."

  Then he cooked her, and still she chirped:

  "What a good cook!

  Ya-la-lal-li

  What a good cook!

  Ya-la-lal-la."

  Putting her into his mouth, he chewed her until sh
e was soft, then swallowed her. She went down into his stomach. In a while, he got up and shat her. She then sang out:

  "Ho! Ho! I saw the prince's hole,

  It's red, red, like a burning coal."

  This is my tale, I've told it, and in your hands I leave it.

  12.

  Jummez Bin Yazur, Chief of the Birds

  Once there was a father, a merchant with three daughters. Two were from one mother, while the third was from a different mother. She was the youngest of the three and very beautiful. Her father loved her very much, and had given her the name of Sitt il-Husun.

  Wanting to go on the hajj, the father one day asked his daughters what they wished. "Name something I can bring back with me," he said.

  "I want a gold bracelet," announced the eldest. "And I want a dress embroidered with the most expensive silk," said the second. "As for me, father," said Sitt il-Husun, "I want Jummez Bin Yazur, Chief of the Birds. And if you don't bring him to me, may your camels collapse in Aqaba and be unable to move!"

  The father went, completed the hajj, and returned. On the way back his camels collapsed in Aqaba, and he remembered. "Ah, yes!" he thought. "By Allah, I've forgotten to bring Jummez Bin Yazur, Chief of the Birds." Returning [to Mecca], he wandered around the city asking about Jummez Bin Yazur, Chief of the Birds. Finally he came upon an aged sheikh, who gave him directions to Yazur's house. "Go stand by his door," the old man said, "and call out three times, 'Jummez Bin Yazur, Chief of the Birds! My daughter has asked for you.'"

  The father walked and walked, until he reached the house described by the sheikh. It was a hot day, and he was thirsty. Seeing a water jar by the door, he reached out his hand to drink, but listen! "Take your hand away!" said the jar. "May it be cut off! You dare to drink from your master's house?" He was afraid, poor man! Stepping back, he shouted out three times, "Jummez Bin Yazur, Chief of the Birds! My daughter has asked for you!" and headed straight home.

  Three nights after he arrived, look! a bird was beating his wings against Sitt il-Husun's window. She got up and opened it for him, and he came in. Fluttering his wings, he turned into a youth, one of the handsomest of young men. Every night after that he came and stayed with her, and at dawn he would turn back into a bird and fly away, leaving her a purse full of gold under the pillow.

  Her sisters found out, and jealousy crept into them. One day her eldest sister came and said, "Ask Jummez what's most precious to him where he comes from." Now Sitt il-Husun was simple and innocent of heart, and when he came in the evening, she asked, "What does you most harm in your natural environment?"

  "Why?" he asked. "What do you want?"

  "Because," she answered, "I just want to know." And she kept after him till he told her the thing that did him most harm was glass. If a piece of glass were to cut him, he would never be able to recover.

  When she told her sisters, they went behind her back and broke the glass of the window where he came in. That evening when he came to visit her he tried to pass through the window, but the broken glass wounded him. Away he flew, back where he came from.

  Sitt il-Husun waited a day then two, a week then two, and when he did not come back, she realized her sisters had tricked her and that Jummez was now sick. Putting on the disguise of a beggar, she wandered from one place to another in search of him. One day while she was sitting under a tree, two doves landed in the branches and began a conversation.

  "You see, sister," said one, "it turns out Jummez's wife had been wanting to kill him."

  "If only there were somebody," replied the other, "(Far be it from my feathers and yours, and my blood and yours!) if there were someone who would slaughter a dove, drain her blood and mix it with the feathers, and then rub it on his legs, he'd get well again."

  Sitt il-Husun rose up. She went and got a dove, slaughtered it, drained its blood, burned its feathers. Mixing them together, she carried the medicine with her and wandered about the city, calling out, "I am the doctor with the cure!"

  One day she passed in front of a certain house, and listen! there were girls crying by the window. When they saw her, they called her up, saying their brother was sick and no one had been able to cure him. Sitt il-Husun came in and rubbed the medicine into his wounds, staying up with him day and night for two weeks, until he woke up. When he awoke, he recognized her.

  "O Sitt il-Husun!" he cried out. "You did me a great wrong!"

  "It wasn't me!" she answered. "My sisters did that to you."

  "It's no matter," he responded. "Don't let it worry you."

  When his sisters discovered she was his sweetheart and he wanted to marry her, they said, "You can't marry our brother until you've swept and mopped this whole town."

  She started to weep, but Jummez said, "Go to the top of that mountain and cry out, 'O you there, sweep! O you thing there, mop!'" Going to the top of the mountain, she did as he had told her, and indeed, the whole town was swept and mopped.

  Seeing that she had accomplished that, the sisters said, "You won't marry our brother until you've brought enough feathers to fill ten mattresses for the wedding." She went crying to Jummez, but he said, "Don't be afraid. Go up the mountain and repeat three times, 'Jummez Bin Yazur, Chief of the Birds, is dead!'" Going back to the top of the mountain, she called out three times, "Jummez Bin Yazur, Chief of the Birds, is dead!" No sooner had she said it than all the birds gathered and started wailing and lamenting, plucking out their feathers over their chief. Soon there were piles and piles of feathers on the ground.

  Gathering the feathers, she took them to Jummez's sisters, but they said, "You can't marry our brother until you've fetched the straw tray hanging on the wall of the ghouleh's house."

  Again she went crying to Jummez. "Don't cry," he comforted her. "This one's easy! Go to the ghouleh's house, and you'll find meat in front of the horses and barley in front of the lions. Switch the meat and the barley. You'll also find the stone terrace by the ghouleh's house collapsed. Repair it, then go into the house and pull the tray down. But take care! If it scrapes against the wall, the ghouleh will wake up."

  So to the ghouleh's house went Sitt il-Husun, to do as Jummez had told her. But when she went in to take the straw tray, she saw the ghouleh sleeping and shook with fear. As she was pulling the tray down, it scraped against the wall, shaking the whole world and waking up the ghouleh. Snatching the tray, Sitt il-Husun ran with it, the ghouleh following her.

  "Retaining wall, catch her!" shrieked the ghouleh.

  "For twenty years I've been collapsed, and she repaired me," answered the wall. "I won't do it."

  "Horses, catch her!" commanded the ghouleh.

  "For twenty years we haven't tasted barley, and she fed us. No!"

  "Lions, catch her!"

  "For twenty years we haven't tasted meat, and she fed us. No, we won't!"

  Thus the ghouleh was not able to catch her, and Sitt il-Husun brought the tray and presented it to Jummez's sisters. When they were satisfied that she had done all her tasks, they gave their consent to their brother's marriage.

  They held wedding celebrations. Sitt il-Husun married Jummez Bin Yazur, Chief of the Birds, and he lifted her up and flew away with her.

  The bird has flown, and a good night to all!

  13.

  Jbene

  Once upon a time there was a woman who could not get pregnant and have children. One day, when a cheese vendor passed through, she gathered herself and cried out, "You who ask, your wish be granted! May Allah grant me a daughter with a face as white as this piece of cheese!" Allah spoke with her tongue, and she became pregnant and gave birth to a daughter with a face so fair it was like a square of cheese, and she called her Jbene.

  When Jbene grew up she was very beautiful, and all the girls in the neighborhood became jealous of her. One day her companions came to her and said, "Jbene, let's go pick dom together."

  "Not until you ask my mother," she answered.

  So to her mot
her they went and said, "O Jbene's mother, for the life of Jbene, won't you let Jbene come pick dom with us?"

  "It's not my concern," she answered. "Go speak with her father!"

  They went to her father and said, "O Jbene's father, for the life of Jbene, won't you let Jbene come pick dom with us?"

  "It's not my concern," he answered. "Go speak with her paternal aunt!"

  They went to her paternal aunt and said, "O Jbene's aunt, for the life of Jbene, won't you let Jbene come pick dom with us?"

  "It's not my concern," she answered. "Go speak with her maternal aunt!"

  So to the maternal aunt they went and said, "O Jbene's aunt, for the life of Jbene, won't you let Jbene come pick dom with us?"

  "Fine," said the aunt to them. "Let her go with you."

  The girls gathered together and went to pick dom . When they reached the dom trees, they asked, "Who's going to climb the tree for us?"

  Jbene was the youngest and the best behaved among them. "I'll climb it," she said.

  Climbing the tree, she picked dom and dropped it for them under the tree.

  "We'll fill your basket," they said to her.

  They filled their baskets with dom, but they filled hers with snails. As the sun was setting, they abandoned her up in the tree and went to their homes. Night fell, and Jbene could not climb down from the tree.