Notes, Notings, and Common Refrains

(Cross-Posted to queerly_beloved)

Preface:

In that same, later, reread of the Grimm "House and Children's Tale" #1, where it dawned on me that the princess is both child-coded and objectified, I also noticed that (other than what the enchanted king says at the end) There. Is. No. Witch. in the Story. And, furthermore, what actually breaks the spell is access to human spaces, which the king cannot get for himself without help. It therefore works, for me, as a clear disability analog.

So, in this retelling, I've decided to make the lack of a witch explicit, to get away from the trope that Disability is always a punishment, or that there's always some specific person or event to "Blame" for it (hello, anti-vaxxers, I'm looking at you, and the toxic positivity people, you, too).

Where we left off:

No sooner were they back in the carriage than the coachman cracked his whip, and they sped off at an almost unnatural speed, the horses in full gallop before they even had taken three strides at a trot. The landscape outside the windows was nothing but a blur.

"Heinrich!" the young king called, "Must you drive with such haste?"

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," his servant called back. "But if we do not pass through the Capital's gate by sunset, all is lost."

( Under the Linden Tree, Part 4/5 (1,492 words) )

(Back to part 3)

(This post is cross-posted to queerly_beloved)

Preface:

Back in 2012, when I was first exploring the cultural link between concepts of the monstrous, and cultural attitudes toward disability (and queerness), spiralsheep (no longer online) pointed me to a Master's thesis: "When a Knight meets a Dragon Maiden:
Human Identity and the Monstrous Animal Other," by Lydia Zeldenrust, and published online at Academia.Edu. Quote:

In general, the dragon maidens can be divided into two groups: the first is a rather large group in which the dragon maiden is waiting to be freed from her spell by means of a Perilous Kiss and then turns back into a human, the second group deals with a woman who turns into a half-dragon or serpent at specific times and is not to be seen by her husband in this state, but when this does happen she eventually becomes the animal.

And this was living in my head for several years before it clicked that all of the royal frog-man stories are basically gender-flipped versions of the Dragon Maiden tales.

The whole point of these encounters, according to Zeldenrust, was for the knight to recognize the human that is trapped inside the dragon form, and not to be confused into thinking its an actual dragon that needs to be killed. This is how they prove their right to the Divinely Ordained Social Privilege, somewhere between kings and angels.

(When I read that, all those encounters I'd had, where normate people said: "Oh, but I don't see you as Disabled, I see you as Human!" -- while I'm sitting in front of them in my wheelchair -- suddenly made sense: They're all white-knight wannabes, reassuring themselves that they've earned their normate privileges)

The problem with the Grimm Brothers' version of the story, though, is that the princess never recognizes the frog king as human until after he loses his frog-shaped body, and therefore (according to chivalric tradition) doesn't deserve her happy ending.

So I tweaked the spell, just a bit, so that it's reciprocity between human beings that breaks the spell, rather than simply sharing physical space with the most beautiful person ever.

Where we left off:

As if struck by a sudden thought, he turned to the frog tucked under the princess's arm, and said, with a grand sweep of his arm: "It would be a great honor to me, Sir Frog, if you would stay, and be my daughter's special guest at dinner, tonight."

Her two elder sisters, bringing up the rear of their little parade, giggled behind their hands.

The frog shifted his weight under her arm and opened his mouth as if to speak. But in the end, said nothing.

Galantha was ready to object on his behalf, and her own. But her father looked her in the eye with a frown, daring her to disobey his wishes a second time that day.

She dropped her gaze to the floor. "Yes. Of course it would be my honor. Please, be my guest."

No sooner were those words out of her mouth than the strange, horrid, feeling strengthened once more, spreading from the frog like ink from a tipped bottle. She fought to keep from hurling him to the floor that very instant.

( Under the Linden Tree: part 2 (1,420 words) )

(Back to Part One)

And now, I present, for your reading pleasure, one of my all-time favorite tales from the Brothers Grimm.

(The retelling is mine, and I'm trying to decide which one scene I should illustrate, that's within my abilities... I was thinking of doing the delousing scene, but without a photo to draw from, coming up with the right perspectives is a headache... so any suggestions on any of the other scenes I could do?)

In the meantime, Enjoy "The Devil's Three Golden Hairs"!

Once upon a time, a baby was born with a caul, and so his parents (who were the poorest couple in the village) took him to the wise woman to learn his fortune. The news was better than anything they could have hoped for. The boy, she said, was a luck child, and was destined to marry the king's daughter when he was fourteen years old.

Word of this spread quickly among their neighbors, and one day, not long after the luck child was born, the king was traveling incognito through the village, checking on the state of his kingdom, and heard the marvelous news for himself. Naturally, he was not happy with the idea of his daughter married to a common beggar, and so he vowed to thwart the prophecy.

Dressed as a wealthy merchant, he visited the parents and asked to see the child. "Ah!" he exclaimed, when they brought the baby before him, "I have not seen such a beautiful baby in all my life. I would give all the gold and jewels in my treasury to have a son such as this, but, alas, my wife cannot bear a child. It is a shame that he must grow up in such poverty." Then, as if it were a sudden inspiration, he said: "I can give this child everything he will ever need or want. He can come live with me, and I'll be his ward, and care for him on your behalf."

His parents were loath to part with him. But it was true that they could not give him all that they wished they could, and besides, they thought, he is a luck child - no harm can come to him. So they handed their son over to the stranger.

The king kept the baby with him until he had traveled through several villages. When he was sure he was somewhere where no one would recognize the baby, he put the baby in a crate, and dropped him in a millstream. He went home happy, confident that no one would ever see the child alive again.

It is not so easy to drown a child born with a caul, however. Even though there had been a recent rainstorm, and the stream churned wildly within its banks, the baby was protected by the power of his caul, and the crate rocked him as gently as a cradle, coming to rest against the millpond dam. A fisherman happened to be walking along the dam just at that moment, and fished the crate out of the water. Peeking inside, he saw the most beautiful baby in the world. The child, he thought, must have been sent by God, since the miller and his wife were unable to have children of their own, and so he brought them the baby.

The miller and his wife were indeed overjoyed to be blessed with such a miracle, and raised the boy as their own to be good and true. He thrived physically as well, and by the age of fourteen, he had become a vision of strength and grace.

The king at that time was again touring his country, and he happened, by chance, to stop for a rest at the miller's house. He couldn't help but notice the handsome youth working at the mill. "You are blessed with a good son," he commented to the wife.

"Yes, indeed," she replied. "He is our miraculous gift from God. Our neighbor found him as an infant in a crate, floating in our millpond. That was. . . let me see - fourteen years ago, now."

The king knew, then, that this was the child prophesied to marry his daughter, and that he had to do something soon if he was to stop the old woman's prophesy from coming true.

He called the luck child to his side. "You look like a responsible young man," he said, "and a swift runner. Can you deliver a message for me? It is for Her Majesty the Queen's eyes only, and is of utmost importance."

"I can do anything," the luck child replied, puffing out his chest.

The king smiled, and handed him a letter.

The luck child slipped it into his vest, and started off at once. He had no
idea that the message read: "Bring the bearer of this message to the executioner immediately. I want him dead before I return home."

There was confidence in his stride and a song on his lips when he started out. But a thick forest lay between his home and the castle, and he soon became lost. Night fell, and he was only halfway there. "Oh, well," he said to himself, "I'll just climb this tree to stay out of the reach of wolves, and wait until morning."

When he got up to a high branch, however, he saw a cottage with a light in the window, a little distance away. Even better, he thought, and climbed down again, to ask for shelter.
Soon, he knocked on the door, and an old woman answered, opening the door just a crack. "What do you want?" she asked, whispering.
"I come to ask for shelter," the luck child said, "I could sleep on the floor."
"Well, you can't have shelter here," she told him. "This is a thieves' den, and if they find you, they'll surely murder you."
"Oh, never mind about that, I'm not afraid of anything," he answered, and he wouldn't go away.
So the old woman had to let him in.
He curled up in the corner and promptly fell fast asleep.
Not long after that the thieves came home, and sure enough, they wanted to kill the boy. "He'll tell our secret," the leader said.
"Leave him alone!" the old woman told them. "He's just an innocent lad, and doesn't know enough of the world to want to harm us."
"Well," the leader conceded, "perhaps not. But we can't have him sleeping here rent free," and picked the boy's pockets to see what riches he carried.
Pulling out the letter, the leader grinned. "The king's hand," he said, "I know it well - I've forged it often enough," and he read it aloud to the others.
The cruelty and trickery of the king pierced even the hardest heart among them.
"To go to his death without any warning or prayer?" one of them protested. "A boy as young as this deserves a better fate."
"Don't worry," the leader said with a wink. "He will get exactly what he deserves, and so will the king!" He forged a substitute letter: "The bearer of this message is to marry our eldest daughter immediately. I want the union sanctified before I return home." The thief put the letter in the luck child's pocket, and threw the original into the fire.
In the morning, the luck child started off for the castle once more, as light-hearted and carefree as ever. The path out of the forest was as easy as the path in was hard, and he arrived at the castle before the sun had set. His bearing was so graceful and confident that the guards thought he must be a young lord, and they opened the gate for him without question.

The queen was surprised when she read the message, for the princess had already been promised in marriage the day she was born, and it was unlike the king to break with protocol. But the more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. And the princess herself was clearly smitten with the suitor - her left foot twitched the way it always did when she was trying to hide her excitement. So all three of them happily complied with the king's command, and the priest was sent for on the spot.
The king was horrified, when he returned home a few days later, to find that the prophecy had been fulfilled, but now that the boy was legally a member of the royal family, it was much harder to do away with him directly.
So he called the boy into his private chambers. "A simple marriage ceremony may be enough in the outside world," he told him in a confidential tone of voice. "But now that you are part of the royal family, you have a special tradition to uphold. I cannot make you a full heir until you have successfully proven your valor and wisdom with a quest."
The luck child nodded. He had heard of such quests in the ballads sung at village fairs. "What quest shall I go on, Sire?" he asked eagerly, for although the princess was lovely, he wasn't ready to settle down quite yet.

"Bring me three golden hairs from the Devil's own head," the king said with a sneer. He expected the boy to refuse, thereby allowing him to order an execution for refusing a royal command.
But the luck child only grinned. "It's as good as done, Your Majesty," he said with a deep bow. "You shall have the treasure in your hand before the end of the year." He bid farewell to his bride and the queen, and started off.
Perhaps it was better this way, the king thought, for no one could survive such a quest. Even if he got to Hell, the Devil would eat him on sight.

The luck child traveled a long time, through all the kingdoms of the known world, and beyond. One day, he came upon a city enclosed in a high wall, with a guard watching over the road.
"May I pass through your city?"
"That depends," the guard answered. "What can you do?"
"I can do anything!"
"Then you can tell us why our fountain, which used to flow with wine, is now as dry as a stone."
"I am on an important quest for my king," the luck child replied, "and do not have time to study the problem now. But I promise to give you an answer when I return."
And so the guard let him through.
He traveled even further still, over highways and along fox runs, and one day came upon another walled and guarded city.
"May I pass through?"
"That depends," the guard answered. "What can you do?"
"I can do anything!"
"Then you can tell us why our apple tree, which used to give us golden apples, is now without fruit or leaf of any kind."
"I am on an important quest for my king," the luck child replied, "and do not have time to study the problem now. But I promise to give you an answer when I return."
And so the guard let him through.
The luck child traveled on to the very ends of the Earth, coming at last to the broad river that marked the border with Hell. The ferryman waiting by the bank asked what he was doing there, since he was clearly still alive.
"I have come on an errand for my king," he replied, "to collect three golden hairs from the Devil's head, and also to get the answers to some very hard questions."
"Well," said the ferryman, "It's highly irregular, but if you ask a question for me, I will take you across free of charge."
"What do you want to know?" the luck child asked.
"How do I free myself from this task of ferrying people across the river?"
"Good question," the luck child said. "If anyone knows, it is surely the Devil."
And so the ferryman poled him across the broad, deep river, setting him down on the far side with a wave and a wish for good luck.
The luck child strode on through the fields and meadows of the otherworld until he came to the sooty door of the Devil's house. The Devil was not home, but his grandmother, who looked a kindly sort, sat dozing in an armchair by the fire.
She woke with a start when he approached. "What are you doing here?" she asked.
"I've come to collect three golden hairs from the Devil's head," he answered. "I need them to complete my marriage to the princess."
"Is that so? Well, if the Devil finds you, you might not think that this princess is worth it . . . But you seem like a nice lad, so I'll do what I can to help." She used her magic to transform him into an ant, and hid him in the folds of her skirt.
"I also have three questions that need answering," the luck child added from his hiding place.
"You don't do anything on a small scale, do you?" the old woman asked. "What are they?"
"Why is a fountain, which used to flow with wine, now dry as a stone? Why does an apple tree, which used to grow golden apples, no longer bear fruit or leaves of any kind? And why does no one come to relieve the ferryman from his constant labors?"
"Well, you just hide yourself and listen carefully, and I'll do what I can."
Later that evening, after dark, the Devil returned, and he immediately sensed something was out of place. His nostrils flared and the hair on his back stood on end. "Human flesh!" he roared. "I smell human flesh!" And he began to tear through the place, looking for the intruder.
"You just have human flesh on the brain!" his grandmother scolded. "I spent all day sweeping this place clean, and now look at the mess you've made. Be sensible for once. Sit down and have your dinner."
After he had eaten, the Devil grew very sleepy, so he laid his head in his grandmother's lap, and asked her to delouse him.
This she did, and he soon drifted off to sleep. She let him snore a while, then she plucked one golden hair from his head.
"Ow! Why in blazes did you do that?" the Devil yelled.
"Do what, Dear? I must have dozed off and had a nightmare," she replied.
"What was your nightmare?"
"I dreamt there was a city with a magic fountain that used to flow with wine, but now is completely dry, and no one knows why."
"That's a simple matter to fix," he told her. "There's a poisonous toad under the fountain, and if they dig it out and kill it, the fountain will flow with wine again."
"That makes sense," his grandmother agreed, and deloused him again until he fell asleep. When his snores were as loud as thunder, she pulled out a second hair.
The Devil roared in pain. "You're doing that on purpose!" he accused her.
"Don't be silly," she said, patting his hand, "No one has nightmares on purpose."
"Well, what is it this time?"
"I dreamt of an apple tree that used to bear golden apples, but now will not even bear a single leaf, and no one knew why."
"Simple enough: there's a mouse gnawing the roots. If the people kill it, the tree will bear as it always has, but if they do nothing, the tree will eventually die completely."
"Yes, that is simple. Now, let us both go back to sleep." Once more, she deloused him until his snores were loud enough to shake the walls, and then she pulled out the last golden hair.
The Devil roared and prepared to strike his grandmother across the face.
"Don't get excited," she said. "You know as well as I do that no one can help their bad dreams. By morning, they will all be forgotten. Now, put your head down and go back to sleep."
The Devil put his head down, but he was too curious to sleep. "What was your nightmare this time?" he asked at last.
"I dreamt of the ferryman on the broad, deep river. He had to pole across forever and no one came to relieve him."
The Devil laughed. "That's the easiest of all," he said. "All he needs to do is hand the pole over to the next person who asks for passage, and he will be free."
"Thank you, Dear," his grandmother said, resuming her delousing. "I always sleep better when I know there is a sensible solution to something."
Soon the Devil was snoring again, and this time, his grandmother let him sleep until dawn, when he rose to go out.
As soon as the coast was clear, she returned the luck child to his human form, and handed him the three hairs she had collected. "Did you hear the answers to your questions?" she asked.
"Yes, I did, and I'll remember them all. Thank you." He waved goodbye and started down the road toward home with a whistle on his lips.
The ferryman was waiting for him by the bank. "Did you find out how I can be free?" he called out, almost as soon as the luck child was in sight.
"Yes, and I'll tell you on the other side of the river." Once he was safely back in the world of the living, he told the ferryman that all he had to do was hand his pole to the next person who came along. "Don't worry," he said, as he waved goodbye, "I'm sure that someone will come along soon."
When he got to the city of the golden apple tree, the city officials stopped him. "You promised to tell us how to restore the tree," they said.
"And so I shall tell you. There is a mouse gnawing on the roots of your tree. If you dig it out and kill it, the tree will be as healthy as it ever was. But if you do nothing, the tree will die."
No one let him leave until workmen dug among the roots and found the mouse. As soon as the creature was killed, leaves and golden apple blossoms appeared. The people were so grateful that they gave him two donkeys laden with as much gold as they could carry.
The boy traveled along fox runs and broad highways, and soon returned to the city with the magic fountain.
"We let you pass through our city the first time," the officials said, "only because you promised to help us. If you want to take another step, you must keep your word."
"I always do," the luck child said, and he told them all about the toad under the well that was keeping the wine from flowing. "Find it and kill it, and all shall be back to normal."
Before long, his words were proven to be true. After drinking to his health with the rich red wine, the people gave him two more donkeys laden with more gold.
The luck child bid them farewell, and continued his journey through all the known kingdoms until he returned to the castle of the king. His bride the princess ran out to meet him, and planted kisses on both his cheeks.
As soon as the king saw the four donkeys laden with gold, he welcomed him as if he were a prodigal son, and ordered a great feast in his honor. "Tell me, my boy," he said, as they sat down to the table, "how did you come upon all that gold?"
"Between this world and Hell," he replied, "is a broad, deep river, and the far bank of that river is made of gold and jewels instead of rock and sand. I just took all I wanted. You can, too - there's a ferryman there who would be more than happy to take you across."
The king liked that idea, and so he left the very next day. He was never heard from again, for the ferryman gave him his pole and his burden. Chances are he's still at it, for he's too greedy to give the pole to anyone else.