The Annotated Hans Christian Andersen (The Annotated Books)

by Hans Christian Andersen

  “That’s where I keep the wild pigeons,” she continued, pointing to an opening high up in the wall with bars over it. “They’re wood pigeons, those two, and they’d fly away in a minute if I didn’t make sure to lock them up. And here is my dear old Baa,” she said, tugging on the antlers of a reindeer who was tethered by a shiny copper ring around its neck. “We have to keep an eye on him too, or else he’ll run away from us. Every night I tickle his neck with my knife blade. He’s so terrified of it!” The robber girl pulled a long knife out of a crack in the wall and let it slide along the reindeer’s throat. The poor animal kicked his legs, but the robber girl just laughed and dragged Gerda into bed.

  “Are you going to keep the knife while you’re sleeping?” Gerda asked, eyeing it nervously.

  “I always sleep with this knife!” the little robber girl said. “You never know what might happen. But tell me again what you told me before about Kai and why you ventured out into the wide world.”

  Gerda told the story all over again from the beginning, and the wood doves cooed in their cage overhead, while the tame doves slept. The little robber girl clasped Gerda’s neck with one arm, gripped her knife with her other hand, and fell asleep, snoring loudly. But Gerda did not dare close her eyes, since she had no idea whether she was going to live or die. The robbers sat around the fire, singing and drinking, and the old robber hag was turning somersaults. Oh, it was a terrible sight for a little girl to see.

  All at once the wood doves said, “Coo, coo! We’ve seen little Kai. A white hen was pulling his sled, and he was seated in the Snow Queen’s sleigh as it raced over the tops of the trees where we build our nests. The Snow Queen’s icy breath killed all the baby pigeons except for the two of us, who managed to survive, coo, coo!”

  “What’s that you’re talking about up there?” little Gerda asked. “Where was the Snow Queen going? Do you have any idea at all?”

  “She was probably bound for Lapland,55 where there is always snow and ice. Why don’t you ask the reindeer tied up over there?”

  “Yes, there is plenty of ice and snow there. It’s a place of bliss and goodness!” the reindeer said. “You can prance around freely across those great glittering plains. The Snow Queen sets her summer tent up there, but her permanent residence is in a castle closer to the North Pole, on an island called Spitsbergen!”56

  “Oh, Kai, poor Kai,” Gerda sighed.

  “Just lie still and be quiet,” the little robber girl said, “or else I’ll poke you in the stomach with my knife!”

  In the morning Gerda told her everything that the wood doves had said, and the little robber girl looked thoughtful, nodded her head, and said, “Never mind! Never mind!” Then she turned to the reindeer and asked: “Do you know where Lapland is?”

  “Who would know better than I?” the reindeer replied, and his eyes sparkled. “I was born and bred there, and it was there that I played in fields of snow.”

  “Listen carefully!” the little robber girl said to Gerda. “You can see that all of the men are gone now, but Mother is still here, and she’s not leaving. Later this morning she’ll take a swig from that big bottle over there, and then she’ll lie down for a little nap upstairs. That’s when I’ll be able to help you out.” She jumped out of bed, threw her arms around her mother’s neck, pulled on her beard, and said, “Good morning, my own dear, sweet goat!”57 Her mother pinched her nose until it turned red and blue, but it was all done out of affection.

  As soon as the mother had taken a swig from the bottle and was settling down for a nap, the little robber girl went over to the reindeer and said: “I’m itching to tickle you many more times with my sharp blade, because it’s so much fun. But never mind, I’m going to untie your rope and take you outdoors so that you can get back to Lapland. But be quick and take this little girl to the Snow Queen’s palace, where she’ll be able to find her playmate. I’m sure you heard her entire story, for she was talking rather loudly and you were probably eavesdropping, as you always do.”

  The reindeer leaped for joy. The little robber girl lifted Gerda up on his back, took care to strap her in, and even gave her a little cushion to sit on. “And while we’re at it,” she said, “you can have your fur boots back, for it is going to be cold. I’ll hold on to your muff, because it is just too pretty to part with, but, don’t worry, you won’t freeze. You can have my mother’s big mittens—they’ll reach all the way up to your elbows. There, put them on! Now your hands look just like my hideous mother’s paws.”

  Gerda wept for joy.

  “I don’t like to see you blubbering,” the little robber girl said. “You ought to be pleased! Here are two loaves of bread and a ham so that you won’t go hungry.” After tying both bundles to the reindeer’s back, the little robber girl opened the door, called all the big dogs indoors, cut the rope with her knife, and said to the reindeer, “Run as fast as you can! But take good care of that little girl!”

  Gerda stretched out her hands with those big mittens on them to the little robber girl and said good-bye. The reindeer bounded off, over bushes and brambles, through the great forest, across swamps and plains, as fast as he could run. The wolves howled, and the ravens shrieked. The sky seemed to say, “Kerchoo! Kerchoo!” as if it were sneezing red streaks of light.

  “Those are my old Northern lights,”58 the reindeer said. “See how brilliantly they are glowing!” And on he ran, faster than ever, all day and night. The loaves of bread had been eaten and the ham was gone too, but by then they were already in Lapland.

  SIXTH STORY: THE LAPP WOMAN

  AND THE FINN WOMAN

  They stopped in front of a small house. It was a wretched hovel.59 The roof was almost touching the ground, and the doorway was so low that the family living there had to crawl on their bellies to go in or out. No one was at home except for an old Lapp woman, who was frying fish over a whale-oil lamp. The reindeer reported Gerda’s entire history, but he told his own first, since he believed it was far more important. Gerda was so frozen to the bone that she couldn’t even open her mouth.

  “Oh, you poor creatures,” the Lapp woman said. “And you still have a long way to go! It’s another hundred miles at least to Finnmark,60 where the Snow Queen is taking her country vacation. Every single night she sets off her blue fireworks. I don’t have any paper, but I’ll write a few words down on a dried codfish61 and you can give it to the Finn woman up there. She knows more about all of this than I do!”

  After Gerda warmed up and had something to eat and drink, the Lapp woman wrote a few words down on the dried codfish, gave it to Gerda for safekeeping, and strapped her back onto the reindeer. Off Baa ran, and all night long you could hear “Whoosh! Whoosh!”—and the lovely blue Northern lights were flashing overhead. At last they reached Finnmark and knocked on the chimney of the Finn woman, for she did not even have a door.

  It was so hot inside that the Finn woman was walking around with practically nothing on. She was little and rather grimy. But she didn’t hesitate to help Gerda unbutton and take off her mittens and boots—the heat would have wilted her otherwise—and she put a piece of ice on the reindeer’s head. Then she looked at the words written on the codfish. She read the message three times until she knew it by heart and then tossed the fish into the kettle of soup, for it was still perfectly good. She never liked to waste anything.

  The reindeer told his story first, then he reported what had happened to little Gerda. The Finn woman blinked her wise eyes, and spoke not a word.

  “You are so wise,” the reindeer said. “I know that you can tie all the winds of the world together62 with a bit of thread. When a skipper unties just one of the knots, he has a good wind. When he unties a second, he’ll get a stiff wind, and if he unties the third and fourth knots, there’s a storm so fierce that it topples the trees. Can’t you give this little girl a drink—one that can give her the strength of twelve men and help her overpower the Snow Queen?”

  “The strength of twelve men?” said th
e Finn woman. “A lot of good that would do!” She walked over to some shelves, took down a large rolled-up hide, and spread it out. Strange letters63 were written all over it, and the Finn woman pored over them until sweat began rolling down her brow.

  The reindeer kept pleading with the Finn woman to help little Gerda, and the tears in Gerda’s eyes implored her as well. The old woman began to blink, and she pulled the reindeer aside into a corner. While she was putting fresh ice on his head, she whispered: “It’s all true. Little Kai is with the Snow Queen, and he finds everything to his liking and taste. He thinks it is the best place on earth, but that’s only because he has a glass splinter in his heart and a little speck of glass in his eye. Until they are removed, he will never be human again and the Snow Queen will have him in her power.”

  “Can’t you give Gerda something to drink that will make her more powerful than the Snow Queen?”

  “I can’t give her more power than she already has. Don’t you see how much she possesses? Haven’t you noticed how man and beast alike want to help her? Look how far she’s come in the wide world on those bare feet! But we mustn’t tell her about this power. Her strength lies deep in her heart, for she is a sweet, innocent child.64 If she cannot reach the Snow Queen on her own and rid Kai of those pieces of glass, then there’s nothing that we can do! The Snow Queen’s garden lies two miles from here. Carry the little girl over there and put her down in the snow over by the big bush covered with red berries. But don’t dawdle and be sure to hurry back!” The Finn woman lifted Gerda onto the reindeer, and he dashed off as fast as he could.

  “Oh, I forgot my boots! And where are my mittens!” little Gerda shouted as she began to feel the sting of the cold wind. But the reindeer did not dare stop. He raced on until he came to the great big bush covered with red berries. Then he put Gerda down and kissed her on the lips, while big sparkling tears ran down his cheeks. Off he sped as fast as he could.

  Gerda was standing there all alone—no shoes, no mittens65—out in the middle of the icy cold Finnmark.

  Gerda ran forward as fast as possible. An entire regiment of snowflakes came swirling toward her. They weren’t falling from the sky, which was completely clear and ablaze with the Northern lights. The snowflakes were skimming the ground, and the closer they came, the larger they grew. Gerda recalled how enormous and strange they had seemed to her when she had looked at them through the magnifying glass, but now they were even bigger and more monstrous. They were alive, and they formed the Snow Queen’s advance guard. They had the strangest shapes imaginable: some looked like ugly overgrown hedgehogs, others like clusters of snakes rearing their heads in every direction, and still others like fat little cubs with their hair standing on end. All of them were a dazzling white color. They were snowflakes that had come to life.

  Gerda said her prayers. It was so cold that she could see her own breath freezing in front of her like a column of smoke. Her breath became even denser and then it began to take the shape of little angels that grew even bigger66 when they touched the ground. All of them had helmets on their heads and were carrying spears and shields in their hands. They kept coming one after another, and by the time Gerda had finished her prayers, she was surrounded by a legion of them. When they thrust their spears at the horrid snowflakes, they shattered into a hundred pieces. Gerda kept on walking, feeling quite safe, and undaunted. The angels rubbed her hands and feet so that she wouldn’t feel the cold, and she marched briskly to the Snow Queen’s castle.

  Now we must return to Kai and see how he is doing. He certainly wasn’t thinking about little Gerda, and he never imagined that she might be waiting just outside the castle.

  EDMUND DULAC

  A tear rolls down the cheek of the reindeer as he kisses Gerda, who is without boots and mittens. The reindeer does everything in his power to help Gerda survive. In this scene, he has located bushes with red berries that will provide nourishment.

  SEVENTH STORY: WHAT HAPPENED

  AT THE SNOW QUEEN’ S CASTLE AND

  ELSEWHERE

  The castle walls were made of snowdrifts, and the windows and doors of biting winds. There were more than a hundred rooms, all shaped by the drifting snow, and the largest stretched on for several miles. The vast, empty spaces were all lit by the bright Northern lights and looked both glacial and brilliant. There was never any real joy here, not so much as a little dance for the polar bears, for which the wind could have supplied the music as the bears walked on their hind legs to display their good breeding. Not even a little card game with paw-slapping and back-smacking, or just a cozy little coffee klatch where the white fox vixens could gossip. The Snow Queen’s rooms were immense, empty, frozen expanses. The Northern lights blazed with such reliability that you could tell the time by when they were at their brightest or at their dimmest. In the middle of the vast, empty room of ice was a frozen lake. It had cracked into a thousand pieces, and each piece looked so much like every other piece that it seemed like a work of art. When she was at home, the Snow Queen would sit in the exact center, and she would call the lake the Mirror of Reason,67 the only one of its kind and the best thing in the whole world.

  Kai had grown blue from the cold—in fact he had almost turned black. But he didn’t notice anything at all,68 because the Snow Queen had kissed away his icy shivers, and by now his heart had practically turned into a lump of ice. He was racing around, moving sharp, flat pieces of ice and configuring them in all sorts of different ways—just as we arrange and rearrange pieces of wood in those little Chinese puzzles.69 Kai was trying to work something out while he was creating ingenious patterns. It was an ice puzzle of the mind. To him the designs seemed remarkable and deeply important,70 but that was only because of the speck of glass in his eye. He arranged his pieces to spell out written words, but he could never manage to put together the one word he really wanted. That word was Eternity.71 The Snow Queen had told him: “If you can puzzle that out, you’ll be your own master, and I will give you the whole world and a pair of new skates.”72 But Kai could not figure it out.

  HONOR APPLETON

  “Now I’m off to warmer countries,” the Snow Queen declared. “I want to go take a peek at my black cauldrons!” She was referring to the volcanoes known as Mt. Etna and Vesuvius.73 “I’m going to give them a coat of whitewash. It has to be done; it is good for the lemons and grapes!” And away she flew, leaving Kai all alone in the vast, empty room of ice that stretched on for miles. He continued to puzzle over the pieces of ice, and his head began to ache from all the thinking he had been doing. He was sitting so quietly and stiffly that he looked like someone who had frozen to death.

  Just then little Gerda entered the castle through the huge portal made of piercing winds. As soon as she spoke her evening prayer, the winds began to die down, just as if they were falling asleep. The little girl entered the vast, empty, frozen room, and at once she caught sight of Kai. She recognized him immediately, threw her arms around him, held him close, and cried: “Kai! Dear Kai! I’ve found you at last!”

  But Kai sat motionless, stiff and cold. Gerda shed hot tears,74 and when they fell on Kai’s chest, they went straight to his heart, melting the lump of ice and dissolving the little shard from the mirror. Kai looked at Gerda, and she began singing a hymn:

  “Down in the valley, where roses grow wild,

  There we can speak with our dear Christ child!”

  Kai burst into tears. He cried so hard that the speck of glass washed right out of his eye. Suddenly he recognized Gerda and shouted, “Gerda! Sweet Gerda! Where have you been all this time? And where have I been?” He looked around and said: “It’s so cold here! And it’s immense and empty too!” He held Gerda tightly, and she started laughing so hard that tears of joy were rolling down her cheeks. It was all so wonderful that even the chunks of ice around them were dancing for joy. When the chunks grew tired, they collapsed on the ground to form a pattern making the exact word the Snow Queen had told Kai he must find in order to become
his own master and receive the whole world and a pair of new skates.

  Gerda kissed Kai’s cheeks,75 and they turned red. She kissed his eyes, and they began to shine like hers. She kissed his hands and feet, and he felt strong and healthy once again. The Snow Queen could come back whenever she wanted. The order for Kai’s release was written on the floor in letters of shining ice.

  Kai and Gerda strolled hand in hand out of the enormous palace. They talked about Grandmother and about the roses up on the roof. Wherever they went, the winds quieted down, and the sun broke through. When they reached the bush covered with red berries, the reindeer was waiting for them.76 Another young reindeer had joined him, and her udder was full of warm milk for the children. She kissed them on the lips. The reindeer carried Kai and Gerda back to the Finn woman first, and they warmed themselves up in her cozy cottage and were given directions for the journey home. Then they visited the Lapp woman, who had sewn them new clothes and prepared her sleigh for them.

  The reindeer, with his young companion bounding alongside, followed Kai and Gerda all the way to the border of the country, to the point where you could see the first green buds. The two children bid farewell to the reindeer and to the Lapp woman. “Good-bye,” they all said. The first little birds began to chirp, and green buds could be seen everywhere in the forest. A young girl wearing a bright red cap on her head and holding two pistols came riding out of the forest on a magnificent horse that Gerda recognized immediately—it was the horse that had drawn the golden carriage. The little robber girl had grown tired of staying at home and wanted to head north, and, if that didn’t amuse her, she was planning to go elsewhere. She recognized Gerda at once, and Gerda knew her as well. It was a happy reunion.

  KAY NIELSEN