tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66207733384089621522024-03-20T21:23:26.166-05:00Halfway to FairylandHalfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.comBlogger207125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-72468583507964690042024-03-16T12:51:00.001-05:002024-03-16T12:51:16.559-05:00The Brave Little Tailor <p> I have a very clear memory of writing about this story, which is odd, because I can find no evidence that I’ve ever done so.</p><p>(I do not have the energy to put in images, but I’ll try to remember to post some another time, because I have a fantastic illustrated copy of this story.)</p><p>Tailors are weirdly frequent fairy tale protagonists, but this is probably the best-known, and for good reason; this is definitely one of the best tailor stories around.</p><p>We begin with our tailor putting some jam on a piece of bread, then forgetting all about it while he gets caught up in his sewing. This attracts flies. He grabs a piece of cloth and swats at them, killing seven flies in one blow.</p><p>The tailor feels this is a very impressive feat. He makes a sash to wear, embroidered with “Seven in one blow,” so everyone he meets will know about it.</p><p>(This is pre-sewing machine. He’s hand sewing. Can you imagine how long that would take? To make it look nice? To make it large enough to be easily read from a distance? This is some impressive work.)</p><p>The tailor decides this town is just too small for someone with his impressive fly-swatting skills. He sets off to seek adventure in the wider world, bringing with him only his sash and a piece of cheese, which he puts in his pocket.</p><p>(I killed 4 flies in one blow with a flyswatter, once. But I decided to keep my day job.)</p><p>On his way out, he finds a bird stuck in a bush, and puts that in his other pocket.</p><p>This bird is alive, but apparently content to sit motionless in a strange, small, dark place for an unspecified amount of time.</p><p>The tailor meets a giant, who will be the first of many characters to interpret “seven in one blow” as referring to men. This misunderstanding initiates multiple rounds of showing off.</p><p>The giant picks up a rock and squeezes it until water comes out. Which…isn't how rocks work, but okay.</p><p>The tailor takes out his cheese, and squeezes it until way more water comes out—apparently this is a soft cheese, which raises some concerns about his pocket storage, and apparently it also looks enough like a rock to fool the giant.</p><p>The giant picks up another stone and throws it as far as he can.</p><p>The tailor takes the bird out of his other pocket and throws it; the bird flies away, much farther than the giant’s. The giant believes the bird is a stone, too, and I am having some concerns about his eyesight.</p><p>Next, they carry a felled tree together. By which I mean, the giant carries a tree, while the tailor sits in the branches, and every time the giant glances back, the tailor jumps down and pretends to be doing his share.</p><p>Eventually, the giant takes the tailor home, where he meets several other giants. He’s invited to spend the night, but is intimidated by the size of the bed the giants offer, so he slips out in the night and sleeps on the floor in the corner.</p><p>The giant smashes the bed to pieces, confident he’s smashed the troublesome tailor along with it. And this, friends, is why we always check for a body.</p><p>In the morning, when the tailor turns up alive, all of the giants run away in terror.</p><p>He proceeds to a local palace, where his sash is again misinterpreted, and he’s invited, as a great warrior, to take a special position in the royal army.</p><p>He accepts. The other soldiers are terrified to work with a man who could kill seven of them with one blow, and tell the king, “either he goes or we do.”</p><p>The king is unwilling to lose his entire army, but he’s afraid to upset such a dangerous man by firing him. Instead, he decides to set an impossible task to get rid of him.</p><p>Two giants are wreaking havoc. If the tailor can kill them, the king will give him half the kingdom and his daughter’s hand in marriage.</p><p>(This is a very frequent offer, and I find it baffling. Generally the daughter is this situation is the king’s only child, which means that if you marry her, you’ll eventually get the entire kingdom, as the new king, when your father-in-law dies. So why are we dividing the kingdom now? That seems like a huge mess, politically. You split the kingdom in half. Does it eventually get reassembled when the old king dies? Or does his half go to someone else? If we have a king splitting his kingdom in half every time a giant needs to be killed, or a princess needs to be rescued, how many kingdoms are we going to have in a few generations? Is this why there are so many princes and princesses in fairy tales? Is the continent just littered in dozens of broken-up kingdoms each covering a couple miles? This is not sustainable.)</p><p>Of course, the king is expecting that the giants will kill the tailor—he has no intention of actually giving him his daughter or half his kingdom.</p><p>The tailor finds the giants sleeping, hides in a tree, and starts pelting them both with stones. Each giant thinks the other is attacking him, and they fight and kill each other. The tailor, of course, takes the credit.</p><p>The king sets another impossible task—to capture a unicorn.</p><p>The tailor gets the unicorn to chase him, runs almost into a tree, and darts out of the way. The unicorn gets its horn stuck in the tree.</p><p>A third impossible task—to catch a wild boar.</p><p>Again, the tailor gets it to chase him. He runs into a conveniently located chapel. The boar follows. He jumps out a window. The boar is not able to follow. He circles back around to close the door, and the boar is contained.</p><p>The king is out of impossible tasks. The promise must be kept. A wedding is planned.</p><p>The princess is not a fan.</p><p>It is after the wedding that we learn of the tailor’s only weakness—sleep-talking. His new wife learns from the sleep-talking that he used to be a tailor, and apparently she and the king feel this justifies them in getting rid of him, as if his former profession somehow cancels out the giant-slaying and unicorn-capture.</p><p>They plan to have the tailor kidnapped in the night and thrown on a ship that will take him far, far away.</p><p>But the tailor’s squire overhears, and tattles.</p><p>The next night, when the kidnappers are supposed to come, the tailor pretends to sleep, and pretends to sleep-talk, this time about all of his terrifying feats. The kidnappers run away, successfully terrified, and the tailor allegedly lives happily ever after, though I have some concerns about his relationship with his wife and father-in-law.</p><p>There is a variant where the final scene ends with something other than sleep-talking—I think a bucket of fish gets dumped on the princess? But I cannot find it right now, which is driving me absolutely insane. Just know it’s out there somewhere. Hopefully I’ll track it down eventually.</p>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-60013091565731933782024-03-09T12:26:00.001-06:002024-03-16T12:29:45.392-05:00The Laidly Worm of Spindleston Heugh<p> This is one of my favorite kinds of stories—enchanted bride/groom without the bride/groom. The transforming power of non-romantic love is just so fantastic.</p><p>The Laidly Worm is an English fairy tale, collected by Joseph Jacobs. We open with a widowed king who has two children. These children are named Childe Wynd and Margaret. I’m gonna assume that each parent named one child here, because this looks like wildly different taste in names.</p><p>Childe Wynd, the oldest child, and the son, sets off to seek his fortune. Which, like, what fortune? Isn’t he the heir to the throne? That’s a built-in fortune; why is he seeking one elsewhere?</p><p>Of course, the real reason he’s off seeking his fortune is so that he’ll be safely out of the way for what happens next. Which is that his father remarries, and his new wife is, as is so often the case, a witch.</p><p>It’s all going well enough until someone comments on Margaret’s beauty, which, of course, her stepmother is deeply offended by.</p><p>She turns Margaret into a laidly worm, who can only be turned back by three kisses from her absent brother.</p><p>Which seems like a great way to guarantee your spell will be broken—I mean “get your brother to come kiss you” is a lot easier than “get someone to fall in love with you in your monstrous form” or “get someone to share a bed with you for a year without ever seeing your face” or any of the other, more traditional ways to break this kind of spell.</p><p>Margaret wakes up the next morning, in her bed, as a laidly worm. (Laidly, by the way, just means ugly. And we’re taking, like, serpent, not earthworm.)</p><p>Margaret’s maids all run away, and she slithers out of the palace, settling in at Spindleston Heugh.</p><p>At this point, Margaret begins terrorizing the countryside, devouring everything she comes across, and so the locals consult with a warlock. He figures out that the worm is really the princess—apparently this is news despite the worm being found in the princess’s bed—maybe they assumed it ate her? But how did they think it got into the palace in the first place without being seen?</p><p>Anyway, he tells them the enchanted princess is just hungry, and if they give her the milk of seven cows, she’ll be a good snake. Also, her brother can break the spell.</p><p>So. Margaret drinks a lot of milk, and just sort of hangs out, being a snake. I’m really impressed with the problem-solving here. Instead of rushing right to “kill the monster,” we took the time to figure out what was actually going on, and work out a peaceful solution. Margaret didn’t mean to hurt anyone; she was frightened and hungry and confused. And instead of fighting back, we’re feeding her.</p><p>Childe Wynd comes home. The stepmom sends some storms to sink his ships, but they can’t be sunk because they’re made of rowan wood. She sends Margaret to attack the ships when they reach shore, which is the first indication we’ve seen that she can control Margaret as Worm. Childe Wynd sails away again, and approaches from the other side. As soon as they’ve successfully landed, the stepmom loses all power over Margaret.</p><p>And this is where things get really weird. Because Child Wynd runs and Margaret, sword drawn.</p><p>Like, dude. You’re here to rescue her? It’s common knowledge in the community now that the worm is Margaret, and I get that you’ve been away a long time, but weren’t you briefed on the situation? I find it very unlikely that someone came to get you so you could save your sister, and failed to mention that she had been turned into a worm. Decapitation is not a standard rescue method.</p><p>Margaret is like, “wait, no, kiss me.”</p><p>Wynd hesitates.</p><p>Margaret says, ‘seriously, you gotta kiss me three times.” (But, like, in rhyme.)</p><p>He doesn’t actually question this, despite not seeming to know who she is. He kisses her three times. She turns back into his sister. They go to the castle, find the stepmom, and touch her with a rowan branch. This turns her into a toad. She hops away, Wynd becomes king—no word on what happened to his dad—and he and Margaret live happily ever after.</p><p>Allegedly, the toad is still hopping around in the neighborhood. So, like, be careful if you’re inclined to frog kissing. Don’t wanna unleash a witch.</p>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-2256987972347479472024-03-02T12:25:00.001-06:002024-03-16T12:26:31.938-05:00Trauma, Villainy, Therapy<p> Is anyone else disturbed by the implication in pop culture that we can create evil through torture?</p><p>The orcs in Lord of the Rings. The demons in Supernatural.</p><p>These are creatures that have become monsters because they were hurt. And this is something that goes beyond, like, brainwashing. These are creatures who are inherently evil, who used to be good or at least normal, until their fundamental natures were changed by pain, and now they're irredeemable.</p><p>That is so deeply concerning. That is so very far from okay. The idea that sufficient pain cannot only take away everything you are, but take away any chance that you could ever be in any way worthwhile again?</p><p>It's not exactly wrong that having been hurt makes you more likely to cause hurt, in some cases. You're injured, you're frightened, you're traumatized, and so you lash out in preemptive self defense. You cause pain to avoid experiencing it, because you'll be punished for not punishing others, or because anyone who can get close can hurt you, and hurting them instead keeps them far away. And the fact that you've been hurt before doesn't justify hurting others, even if it sometimes explains it. But hurting others because you've hurt before doesn't make you evil. Hurting others doesn't make you evil at all—people hurt each other all the time, through accident or carelessness, in moments of selfishness that they regret later, in impossible situations where someone is inevitably going to be hurt, and you just have to decide who, or how much.</p><p>The idea that you can render someone truly evil—not careless or selfish or deeply afraid, not inclined to do bad things because the consequences are unbearable, or because they don't know better, but evil—that if you just hurt someone enough, they will come to find joy in hurting others—I'm letting this sentence run on and on because I just don't have words for how bad that is.</p><p>Sometimes, you are a Good Guy, and you are in a Bad Situation. Sometimes it's kill or be killed. Sometimes it's kill or let someone helpless and relying on you be killed. I get that. But in situations where we have villains who were tortured into evil, the good guys generally seem to be aware of the whole torture situation. And despite this knowledge, it never seems to occur to them that these characters are anything but pure evil. That they may be acting under duress, or that they may have been so hurt by the torture that they don't understand the full weight of the atrocities they're committing, beyond the fact that committing them will spare them from further pain.</p><p>Why are we not trying to spare them, in a fight where we can afford to? Why are we not taking them alive? Why are we not trying to help them?</p><p>Orcs don't need death; orcs need intensive therapy.</p><p>If you see someone working for the Bad Guy, and you know that that person was not previously evil, and that they've undergone significant torture, then your duty as a Good Guy is to knock them out and drag them to the hospital!</p><p>It just really concerns me that there are multiple fictional worlds where the second most evil creature you're likely to encounter is only evil at all because they were hurt by the most evil one.</p><p>Real life people, in the here and now, get tortured. Torture is a real thing that really happens.</p><p>How do you think it would feel? To go through something like that. To be rescued. To be safe at home again. It's over. It's over. Maybe it comes back in your dreams every night. Maybe it's never over, not really. But right now you're safe on your couch, and you turn on the TV.</p><p>And you see someone there who's been through what you've been through. But they don't get to go home. They don't get to recover. They get to be irredeemably evil. The thing that happened to you happens to them, and it turns them into a monster.</p><p>How would that feel?</p><p>I read somewhere that part of the reason the Silmarillion wasn't released in Tolkien's lifetime was that he wasn't satisfied with the origin story he'd given the orcs. I hope that's true. I mean, he's Catholic! The theological implications there...</p><p>If evil is created by pain, does that not imply that each small hurt we suffer makes us somehow worse? That those who have endured the most are worth the least?</p><p>(That absolutely does not hold up, theologically speaking—did Christ not suffer? And Job? Moses? David? Joseph? Peter? Paul?)</p><p>Anyway. No one is fundamentally, irredeemably evil, and if they are, it’s not because they’ve suffered. Get Orcs Therapy.</p>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-70285834430960968342024-02-23T12:23:00.000-06:002024-03-16T12:24:58.354-05:00Frog Princesses and Bear Princes<p> One of you commented that it would be nice to see comparisons between enchanted bride and enchanted bridegroom tales. And at first I thought I’d do Frog Prince versus Frog Princess. Then I thought a little more about it, and, well. There’s not much to compare.</p><p>Both stories feature frog love interests. And that’s pretty much it?</p><p>I’ve found an Italian variant (https://sites.pitt.edu/~dash/type0402.html#schneller) of The Frog Princess that includes the throwing-frog-at-wall element. In The Frog Prince, the princess throws the frog at the wall meaning to kill him, because she’s annoyed. In this story, the prince is startled by the frog hopping onto him in the middle of the night, feels horrible about it after, and really begins the relationship from that point. The throwing is the catalyst for transformation in The Frog Prince, and not in The Frog Princess.</p><p>(As an aside, there’s a German story (https://sites.pitt.edu/~dash/type0402.html#jungbauer) where the frog and the man definitely seem to be planning marriage, but after she’s transformed, she gives him her fancy estate, tells him to marry whoever he likes, and leaves. I thought that was interesting.)</p><p>So. The enchanted bridegroom story I really want to compare with The Frog Princess is East of the Sun and West of the Moon.</p><p>Specifically, we’re working with the Russian variant of The Frog Princess, which has a second half.</p><p>In East of the Sun and West of the Moon, the girl looks at her bedfellow’s face, which ruins her chances of breaking the spell, and he is whisked away to a land East of the Sun and West of the Moon to marry a troll princess. The girl goes on a quest to find him, enlisting help from three old women and the four winds. At the troll princess’ palace, she wins her prince back with her mad laundry skills. This story is far from the only one to follow this pattern; a girl often spoils a curse-breaking by doing something she was never told she shouldn’t do, usually LOOKING AT HER BOYFRIEND’S FACE, HOW DARE SHE, and then has to go on a difficult journey and complete strange tasks to win her guy back.</p><p>Before we get into the comparisons, a brief recap of the first half of the Russian version of The Frog Princess. Our man Ivan is forced by his father to marry a frog, due to an arrow landing near her in a very strange choose-your-bride-by-archery arrangement. His older brothers get to marry human women.</p><p>Ivan’s father the king sets up a competition between the three brides. Ivan tells his frog the tasks, then leaves. When he’s gone, she throws off her frog skin, becoming a beautiful young woman, and calls upon a horde of servants to complete the task. (Which, by the way, is why this isn't my favorite Frog Princess variant—other frogs complete the tasks themselves, and complete them as frogs, too.) The last task is to present herself at a ball for the king to judge her beauty, and she shows up as a beautiful human woman.</p><p>This is where the Russian story deviates from others. In other variants, we live happily ever after from here. In this version, Ivan runs home while the former frog is at the ball, finds her frog skin, and burns it.</p><p>In his defense, burning the skin is more often than not the correct move when dealing with enchanted love interests.</p><p>But in this case, if he’d let her keep the skin for a littler while longer, she’d have been freed, but now she must go to the palace of Koschei the Deathless, in a faraway land no one knows the road to.</p><p>Which makes this the only story I know of where the male protagonist screws up and has to go on a quest to rescue his animal bride.</p><p>He gets the help of an old man, an enchanted ball, and several wild animals. Instead of winning her back with laundry, Ivan has to kill Koschei the Deathless. Which, actually, is very similar to The Giant with No Heart is His Body. Koschei can only be killed by a magic needle, which is inside a hare, inside a trunk, in an oak tree that Koschei is always watching. His animal friends help Ivan get the needle, Ivan uses the needle to kill the bad guy, and he and the frog princess live happily ever after.</p><p>It's just so nice to see the male protagonist mess up and go on a quest about it. I feel like the girls have to do that pretty often, but the guys usually either do everything right, or don’t face any consequences for their actions. They go on a lot of quests, but they’re usually self-motivated, and the princess is a reward they pick up along the way. Except, I guess, for the Sweetheart Roland types—not Sweetheart Roland itself, but stories of that type, where the princess says ‘just don’t do this one thing,’ and he does—in Sweetheart Roland the consequence is amnesia, but it a lot of them the princess just vanishes, and he has to go and get her back. But I do like this version where, like, he wasn’t just being absolutely stupid about it.</p><p>If your wife says, just please don’t do this one thing, or you’ll lose me, and then you do the one thing, I don’t have a ton of sympathy for you.</p><p>If you start to get creeped out by the stranger in your bed, and try to look at his face, like, you’re in the right here! That’s a reasonable thing to do. No one ever told you not to. Granted, the bear said, ‘don’t be alone with your mom,” and she did, and the mom got into her head about the stranger in her bed, but, like. Looking was reasonable! It’s weird that she didn’t look earlier! I am on her side here.</p><p>If you discover that the frog you’ve married is actually a woman, and you’ve grown up with stories of people being freed from enchantment by the burning of an animal skin, finding her animal skin and burning it is reasonable! That is a logical solution to come up with. I like it when people mess up by just doing their best in weird situations, rather than by being stupid.</p><p>I am a little bummed that Ivan didn’t do any laundry, though. I feel like that could have added something to the story. Especially since we’ve already determined that his wife doesn’t do her own chores. Someone in this relationship should know how to do laundry.</p>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-65098471046585490632024-02-16T12:21:00.001-06:002024-03-16T12:22:26.355-05:00The Giant with No Heart in His Body<p> So we open this story with a king who has seven sons, which is just excessive, especially since six of them do absolutely nothing here. At least, not after the second page.</p><p>On the first page, the older six go out to seek brides, but the king makes his youngest stay home. His brothers are supposed to pick up a bride for him while they’re out.</p><p>They find six princesses, forgetting all about baby bro, and on the way home, they run into a giant, who turns all twelve of them, princes and princesses, to stone.</p><p>The king and Boots—the youngest prince is named Boots, which is an…interesting name for a prince—wait and wait, but they never come home. Eventually Boots convinces the king to let him go looking for them, and for his own bride, but he has to take a crappy horse, because the older brothers took all the nice ones.</p><p>(BTW. It may be a weird name, but like, at least he has a name! Love when they give me something to actually call them when I’m criticizing their life choices.)</p><p>(Note: on further study I have learned that Boots is just sort of the default name for a male protagonist in Asbjørnsen and Moe. There are, like, 5 stories that feature someone named Boots in the title, according to the table of contents for my less common collection.)</p><p>While he’s out, he feeds a starving raven and rescues a salmon who’s come out of the water. We’ll see them again later.</p><p>If you know fairy tales, you know the youngest son always befriends three animals. Boots’ third animal is a starving wolf, but instead of coming back later, the wolf starts helping right away. All Boots has left to feed the wolf is his crappy horse. So the wolf fills in for the horse, and Boots rides him to the giant’s house.</p><p>The wolf offers to take him there, and this is a bit of a plot hole, because Boots doesn’t know the giant took his brothers, and he didn’t tell the wolf that he was looking for his brothers, so I’m really not sure how we wound up here.</p><p>Anyway. We see the sculpture garden that used to be his brothers and their future wives. The wolf tells him there’s a princess in the giant’s house who’ll help him get rid of the giant.</p><p>The princess is there, and beautiful, and willing to help, but, like. I don’t know why she’s there? The text never explains why there’s a princess chilling in the giant’s house. It doesn’t say that she’s been kidnapped, which I guess would be my first assumption, but wouldn’t that be addressed, then? I don’t think she’s there willingly, or she wouldn’t be on board with getting rid of him.</p><p>She explains that the giant can’t be killed, because he doesn’t keep his heart in his body. She hides Boots under the bed. The giant comes home and smells Christian blood, which the princess makes an excuse for.</p><p>So the princess, presumably, isn't a Christian. Which might just mean that she’s, you know, not a Christian, but as previously discussed last week, our two people groups in this setting seem to be Christians and trolls. Giant=troll. Princess=????</p><p>The giant and the princess go to bed. Apparently in the same bed. Which would imply romantic involvement. Is this consensual romantic involvement? If so, why does she want to help kill him? If not, why aren’t we told she’s a prisoner or something?</p><p>I have so many questions about this whole situation.</p><p>We have next a full Samson and Delilah situation, where she keeps asking where the heart is, and he keeps lying, and she keeps checking, and even though he knows she’s looking for the heart, he eventually tells her the truth, like an idiot.</p><p>Far away there is a lake. In the lake there is an island. On the island there is a church. In the church there is a well. In the well there is a duck. In the duck there is an egg. In the egg there is his heart.</p><p>His heart is in a duck? How did he put it there? Will the duck not eventually lay this egg? The logistics here are baffling.</p><p>When the giant goes out for the day, Boots calls the wolf, and rides him to the lake. They swim across the lake and reach the church, where the key is hung too high to reach, and Boots calls back the raven to get it for him.</p><p>He catches the duck. The duck drops the egg. (Does that mean it’s already been laid?) The salmon fetches the egg.</p><p>And this is when the whole thing falls apart.</p><p>“Squeeze the egg,” says the wolf.</p><p>Boots does.</p><p>The giant screams and cries and begs.</p><p>“Make him fix your brothers and their girlfriends,” the wolf says.</p><p>The giant does.</p><p>Last I checked, the giant was several days ride on wolf-back away from Boots and the egg. Did the story forget to tell us they went back to his house? Did they forget to tell us that the giant came chasing after him?</p><p>“Squeeze the egg in two,” the wolf says.</p><p>Boots does. The giant bursts.</p><p>How does the wolf know what to do? This is a very knowledgeable wolf, and I feel like we could have skipped the whole princess bit, and just had him run the whole show.</p><p>Once the giant is dead they ride back to his house. So now we have their location sorted, but I’m still not sure where the giant was located, or how we were communicating with him.</p><p>The brothers and the brides are saved. Boots “goes into the hillside after his bride.” Which I assume is the same princess he was working with to defeat the giant? But I guess it doesn’t technically say. And, like. We still don’t know anything about this girl, except that she was apparently romantically involved with a giant she then conspired to murder.</p><p>Where is she the princess of? Is she a human or a troll? Does she have a family somewhere, worrying about her? Was her relationship with the giant consensual? If so, what drove her to murder?</p><p>What are we telling Boots’ dad about this situation? I’m assuming not the truth, because I feel like kings are probably sticklers for, like, if not virgin daughters-in-law, at least not-a-dead-troll’s-ex daughters-in-law.</p><p>I just. I have so many questions about the princess. And none of them will ever be answered. And that sucks.</p><p>Feel free to share any speculations you might have about our assorted unanswered questions!</p>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-70368041207856785622024-02-09T12:19:00.001-06:002024-03-16T12:20:47.506-05:00The Three Snake Leaves<p> I’ve decided to talk about this story today, even though it wasn’t on my very tentative schedule, because I’ve still been thinking about The Blue Belt. Specifically about how different our protagonist seemed after the lions healed his eyes in the magic stream.</p><p>I guess I can’t say he came back wrong, since technically he never went—he wasn’t dead, just blind. But it kind of feels like that, doesn’t it? The boy we set to sea was not the same boy who rode home on a raft of lions. (Still obsessed with that image, btw.)</p><p>So I was thinking about this story, because it’s about a girl who came back wrong. And as I’m reading it, she sort of reminds me of The Blue Belt’s mother, too, just in terms of her decision making just seeming absolutely insane and out of nowhere. Which, like, at least she can blame it on coming back wrong. Blue Belt Mom, why did you team up with that troll you were so scared of?</p><p>(Actually, side note. I promise I will get into the snake leaves soon. But The Blue Belt. The mom warned the boy that there were no Christians in the woods. Which in this setting means there are only monsters in the woods. Were the woods, like, inherently bad? Was there a corrupting influence that the belt protected our protagonist from? It corrupted the mom, and then she stole the belt, and it corrupted the protagonist too—they both got suddenly murderous. Idk. Gonna keep thinking about this.)</p><p>Anyway. The Three Snake Leaves. German. Grimms.</p><p>A young man distinguishes himself in battle and becomes a favorite of the king. The king has a daughter described as whimsical, who refuses to marry unless her husband promises that, should she die first, he be buried alive with her in her grave.</p><p>Not what I would call whimsy, exactly, but okay.</p><p>Obviously, our young soldier marries her. And, of course, she gets sick and dies. He regrets his promise, but the king’s not letting him out of it; into the grave he goes, with four loaves of bread and four bottles of wine, and when they’re gone he’ll starve to death.</p><p>He is not given any water. And, like, what about oxygen? I guess the grave isn't airtight? It’s not technically a grave, anyway—big enough for him to walk around in.</p><p>While he’s down there, slowly dying, a white snake approaches the princess’ body. He’s not about to let anything mess with his wife’s body, so he takes out his sword and chops it into three pieces.</p><p>A second snake arrives, sees his dead body, and brings over three green leaves. He puts the leaves in the wounds, and they heal, leaving the first snake intact and alive.</p><p>The snakes slither away, leaving the leaves behind, and the soldier uses them to bring his wife back to life. They knock on the tomb door until someone lets them out, the soldier gives the leaves to a friend for safekeeping, and everything is great.</p><p>For a while.</p><p>But the princess doesn’t love him anymore.</p><p>They go on a journey by sea to visit the soldier’s father. On the ship, the princess befriends the captain. They plot together, throw the soldier overboard, and make plans to go home to her father and be married.</p><p>The soldier’s friend takes a lifeboat, finds the body in the water, and rows away. He brings the soldier back to life, and they return to the palace, somehow beating the princess there.</p><p>Interestingly, the soldier didn’t come back wrong. The princess went from loving him to murdering him, but he still seems like the same guy, post-resurrection. Not, I guess, that we see a whole lot of him afterward. Maybe the wrongness builds with time?</p><p>The king is, understandably, reluctant to believe that his daughter murdered her husband. He has the soldier and his friend hide in the palace until he has a chance to speak with her.</p><p>The princess gets home, and tells exactly the story the soldier’s friend said she would tell—my husband tragically died, the captain was there the whole time, I don’t know what I would have done without him.</p><p>The king presents her with her living husband. She immediately confesses to everything and begs for mercy. The king says no.</p><p>Princess and captain are put out to sea in a boat full of holes, where presumably they drown and die.</p><p>And that’s it. That’s the story.</p>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-42480847029971643942024-02-02T12:17:00.001-06:002024-03-16T12:18:47.539-05:00The Blue Belt Part II<p> When last we saw our protagonist, he had ridden in on a raft of lions, reclaimed his belt of superstrength, murdered his mother, and blinded and set adrift the troll who started all this.</p><p>Now, I must break to you a terrible piece of news.</p><p>After he dismounts his lion raft, the eleven lions are never seen again. No lions will appear from here on out. They will be missed.</p><p>Having dealt with things at home, our dude decides he should probably track down his wife.</p><p>(Sidenote. Was he supposed to join her in Arabia after a while? Was she supposed to come home after visiting her parents? It was never really discussed. Why didn’t they just go to Arabia together?)</p><p>He loads four ships and heads to Arabia. Where did he get all these ships? Who is manning them? Why does he need four of them? Where are his lions?</p><p>They have to stop for a while on an island, where they find a giant egg. None of the soldiers can crack it, but our guy breaks it with a single blow of his giant troll sword, releasing a chicken the size of an elephant.</p><p>His response to this turn of events is “Now we have done wrong; this can cost us all our lives.”</p><p>I’m not sure why? Does he think the chicken is going to attack them? Eat them? Step on them? He just seems really freaked about the giant chicken, and it doesn’t seem that scary, compared to everything else he's faced. I mean, he beat one lion to death, and tamed eleven more.</p><p>If only he had a small army of tame lions to help him fight the chicken.</p><p>(Seriously, where are they? I will never be over this.)</p><p>They have to get off the island fast, apparently. His sailors get him to Arabia in 23 hours. Then he orders them all to bury themselves up to their eyes in a sandhill, while he climbs a big fir tree.</p><p>A giant bird comes flying in, carrying an island, which he drops onto the ships and sinks them. It flies past the sandhill and over the fir tree, and our guy chops off its head with the troll sword.</p><p>I’m gonna be honest. I have no idea what’s going on here. How did he predict this situation? Is the giant bird friends with the chicken? Is the giant bird the chicken? Why is it using islands to sink random ships?</p><p>With the bird decapitated, dude heads into town, where he learns that the king’s daughter is home, but he’s hidden her away, and is offering her hand to anyone who can find her.</p><p>Awkward, since she’s already married.</p><p>(The story does briefly mention that the king is doing this even though she was already betrothed, and it’s unclear whether it’s referring to her full-fledged marriage to our hero, or if she was engaged to some other guy before the trolls kidnapped her.)</p><p>Instead of going to the king and explaining the situation, our guy goes immediately to find a man selling white bear skins. He buys one, puts it on, and has one of his sailors take him around town on a leash. He spends some time dancing and doing tricks, somehow convincing everyone that he is a real live bear, and the king hears about it.</p><p>The sailor is ordered to bring the bear to the palace, where everyone is very scared. He tells them all that there’s no danger as long as they don’t laugh at the bear.</p><p>A maid laughs. The bear responds by ripping her to shreds.</p><p>Reminder that this is not actually a bear. This is not even a man who has been transformed into a bear. This is a human man wearing a bear pelt. A human man who has previously demonstrated such qualities as, like, self-control, and mercy.</p><p>The rest of the palace is understandably upset about this. The sailor is understandably upset about this. The king’s response is, “Whatever, she was just a maid.”</p><p>The bear continues to put on a show. By the time he’s done, it’s late, and the king says the sailor and the bear better just spend the night. The sailor gets a bedroom, and they leave the bear in the throne room with some pillows.</p><p>In the middle of the night, the king comes and carries off the bear.</p><p>Carries him?</p><p>I mean, okay, a human man in a bear skin weighs a lot less than an actual polar bear, but that’s still a lot of carrying? And again, how is he pulling off this disguise? There is a significant size and shape difference.</p><p>Anyway. They wander through a whole bunch of hallways, until they get outside, and onto a pier, where the king pulls a bunch of fancy levers, and a little house floats up.</p><p>This is where the princess is being kept.</p><p>The king shows off the bear to the princess and her maid. This maid also laughs despite a warning, and also gets torn to pieces.</p><p>The princess is understandably frightened and distressed. The king brushes it off again, and leaves the bear with the princess even though she’s terrified and doesn’t want it there.</p><p>Once the king is gone, the bear suit is removed, the couple is reunited, and our dude is instantly forgiven for brutally murdering someone—presumably someone she knew and cared about—right in front of her.</p><p>They spend the night together, and the bear suit is back on by the time the king comes back. He returns the bear to the sailor, and they leave the palace.</p><p>Our guy comes back to the palace without the bear skin to present himself as a suitor for the princess. He’s given twenty four hours to find her, or he’ll be killed.</p><p>He hangs out in the palace and parties for the next twenty three hours. Then, with an hour to go, he follows the path the king took last night, while the king follows him and tries to convince him he’s going the wrong way.</p><p>With three minutes left on the timer, the house is floating in front of us, but the door is locked, and the king is insisting that he doesn’t have the key, and can someone please come behead this kid?</p><p>He kicks down the door, is reunited with his wife, and lives happily ever after.</p><p>This story is just. It’s just. So much.</p><p>The mom’s drastic personality change. For that matter, the boy’s massive personality change. In the beginning, he carried the troll home to bed after he was injured attempting to kill him. In the middle, he dashes his mother’s brains out. In the end, he rips two women to pieces for laughing at a dancing bear. I just—what is even happening here?</p><p>Where did our lions go?</p><p>It kind of feels like the first sixteen pages and last eight pages of this are two separate stories. In the first part, we have a too-trusting young man with lion sidekicks surviving the malicious intentions of his mother and stepfather. In the second part, we have an angry, clever man outsmarting a king to win a bride. The character personalities and the overall tone of the story just aren’t consistent from the first page to the last.</p><p>All of it is so fun, but also just, like, insane. I don’t even know how to feel about this. I love it. I hate it. It’s a masterpiece. It’s a mess. I don’t know how a single story managed to do so much, and also I will never, never forgive it for abandoning the lions partway through.</p>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-87507802861908005632024-01-26T12:11:00.001-06:002024-03-16T12:12:32.699-05:00The Blue Belt Part I<p> I’ve been meaning to talk about The Blue Belt since July of 2012, when I mentioned it briefly in a post about White Bear stories. (East of the Sun and West of the Moon, White Bear King Valemon, and, sort of, this one).</p><p>The Blue Belt is Norwegian, from Asbjørnsen and Moe. It’s basically 24 pages of absolute chaos, and I love every second of it.</p><p>We open with an old beggar woman and her son. They’re out begging, and the son spots a cool blue belt lying on the ground. He wants to pick it up, but the mother warns him not to, because there might be witchcraft in it.</p><p>A little later, when the woman is stopping to rest, the boy runs back and gets the belt. As soon as he puts it on, he feels strong enough to lift a mountain. He runs back to his mom, who’s mad at him for wandering off, but doesn’t seem to notice the belt. He must have put it under his shirt.</p><p>They keep walking, until it’s dark out, and the boy spots a house in the distance, where he says maybe they can stay tonight.</p><p>The mom explains that this must be a troll house, because no Christians live in this area. The boy is not bothered by this. He lets himself in the front door, where they immediately encounter a troll at least 20 feet tall, and the mom faints.</p><p>Boy and troll make friends. It comes up in conversation that the troll is over 300 years old, which isn't super relevant, but I think it’s interesting, especially considering how things are about to go down re: relationship developments.</p><p>Mom wakes up. Mom is desperately frightened. She kicks and scratches and flings herself about, trying to get away. The boy asks for supper. The troll says sure. The mom becomes convinced that the troll is going to eat them.</p><p>Troll serves a meal consisting of a whole ox and a cask of wine taller than them, with two six-foot knives as their only utensils. Mom is terrified of the knives. Mom is terrified of everything. I cannot, at this time, overstate just how terrified mom is.</p><p>They go to bed. The boy lays awake eavesdropping. The troll suggests that he and the mom get rid of the kid, and then the two of them can hook up and everything will be cool.</p><p>THE MOM AGREES WITH THIS PLAN. THE MOM, WHO NOT HALF AN HOUR AGO WAS DESPERATELY AFRAID OF THE TROLL, NOW WANTS TO STAY WITH HIM AND MURDER HER OWN SON.</p><p>You may be thinking, “She’s just too scared to argue with him. She doesn’t actually want to hook up with a terrifying troll. She doesn’t actually want her son dead.”</p><p>If so, you are wrong.</p><p>Because if she was just agreeing because she was scared, she would be trying to hurry her son out of there in the morning, before any murdering could occur.</p><p>Instead, she just hangs out in the troll house, while the troll invites the boy to work in the quarry with him.</p><p>The troll tries to crush the boy with a massive rock, which doesn’t work, because the blue belt gave him super strength. The troll ends up getting injured himself. And instead of fleeing the scene like a sensible person, the boy carries the troll home and puts him to bed to recover, then just stays there in the house with two people he knows want to murder him.</p><p>Mom and troll discuss options for a second murder attempt. There is no longer any room for doubt about mom’s true intentions, because she helps the troll come up with plans.</p><p>Mom pretends to be sick, and says nothing but lion’s milk will heal her. Troll tells boy his brother has a garden with twelve lions in it. Boy goes to milk some lions.</p><p>Of course, the lions do not want to be milked. Boy fights the biggest lion, until there’s nothing left of him but two paws. The remaining eleven lions are then feeling very cooperative. (The lion gender breakdown is not clear here. We have at least one boy lion, or did before the boy killed him, and at least one girl lion, for milk acquisition. The other ten are mysteries.)</p><p>Boy returns home with eleven lions and one drop of lion milk.</p><p>Troll refuses to believe boy did the milking. Boy sets lions on troll, but calls them off before he gets hurt too bad.</p><p>Time for murder plot number 3!</p><p>We send the boy to the castle where two more of the troll’s brothers live. The castle is surrounded by apple trees, and anyone who eats one of the apples will sleep for three days and three nights. Which will give the brothers time to tear him apart without worrying about his super strength. We’re gonna get him there by, again, having mom fake sick, with apples as the only cure this time.</p><p>And just, like. Sweetheart. You know they want you dead. You literally just eavesdropped on their conversation about it. Why do you keep going where they send you?</p><p>He goes to the orchard. He takes his eleven lions. He climbs a tree and eats as many apples as he can, because our dude has no chill and no fear.</p><p>He falls asleep. The lions guard him. The trolls come.</p><p>These are shapeshifting trolls, and they come in the shape of “man eating steeds.” But they don’t get to eat any men today, because the lions eat them first.</p><p>Our guy wakes up and goes to the castle, where he finds the princess of Arabia, who the trolls kidnapped. They decide to get married. He also claims the trolls’ really cool, massive sword. The two of them live together in the castle for a while. It’s unclear whether anyone else is there. Did a priest perform the wedding? Do they have a cook, or are they living on apples? (That sounds wildly impractical, considering the nap factor.)</p><p>Eventually, the princess decides she better go home and visit her parents.</p><p>In her absence, our guy remembers that he was supposed to bring apples home for his mom. A lot of time has passed, and he’s over the murder. (Not that he seemed particularly bothered in the first place.) So he invites his mom and the troll to come live in the castle with him.</p><p>Mom asks him about his super strength, and he shows her the belt. Which she then rips off of his waist.</p><p>She wants to dash his brains out, now that his strength is gone, but the troll thinks that’s too good a death for him. So instead, they burn his eyes out and put him out to sea in a little boat. The lions swim after him, pull him to shore, and take care of him, because they are good lions, and I love them.</p><p>One of the lions watches a blind rabbit fall into a spring, then come out able to see. Smart lion drags the boy to the spring and dunks him, and his sight is restored.</p><p>And then comes my favorite part, a beautiful moment for which, alas, I have never seen an illustration.</p><p>The little boat the troll sent our guy out on wasn’t seaworthy, apparently. Because the way we get home is that the lions all line up together to make a raft, and he sails home on a raft made of lions.</p><p>Back home, he steals back his belt. The mom tries to convince him to give it back to her, because apparently she thinks he’s an idiot, which I guess is fair, because he did keep letting her try to kill him, and showed her the belt when he knew she was trying to kill him.</p><p>He dashes her brains out, which I guess is also fair because that’s what she wanted to do with him, but it still feels intense.</p><p>He blinds the troll and puts him out to sea, which I am a lot more on board with.</p><p>And this story still has eight pages left!</p><p>Which we’re going to pick up next week, because this post is already three pages long. Stay tuned for the reunion between our protagonist and his wife, as well as giant chickens, improbably convincing bear suits, brutal murder, etc!</p>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-64369397168537370942024-01-19T12:08:00.001-06:002024-03-16T12:10:28.653-05:00Th Turnip Princess <p> So this story is from Schonwerth—it’s actually the title story for the first-ever Schonwerth collection published in English—and like most of Schonwerth, it’s wild.</p><p>(BTW, this story was published in the Guardian when the book was announced, so it’s online for free, but, like, don’t bother reading it. It’s not the same translation, and it’s basically nonsensical. I thought I could use that version for reference, to work on this post when I didn’t have my physical book on hand, but that didn’t work.)</p><p>We start with a prince. He’s wandering around in the woods, as princes tend to do. (Seriously, don’t they have any sort of royal responsibilities? Why are they always in the woods?) He sleeps in a cave, and when he wakes up he meets an old lady and her pet bear.</p><p>The old lady likes him. Wants to marry him. He’s not interested, which is fair. You meet a lot of old women, wandering in the woods, and asking for some food, or help carrying something, is reasonable. You say no, you get cursed for being rude. But asking for a wedding is a little much, and I support the prince’s right to refuse.</p><p>However.</p><p>He just, like, stays? He continues hanging out in this woman’s cave, with her pet bear, taking advantage of her hospitality. It says he’s unable to leave. There is no indication as to why. In fact, one paragraph later, he will leave, with no difficulty. So I kinda think he’s just sick of the princely wood-wandering, and taking advantage of this poor old lady.</p><p>One day the prince and the bear are chilling out in the cave without the old lady, and the bear just…starts talking? Did the prince know already that the bear could talk? I sure didn’t, but he seems to be taking it in stride.</p><p>The bear tells him that if he pulls a nail out of the wall, and then sets it under a turnip, the bear will be set free and the prince will get a beautiful wife.</p><p>He doesn’t even think about. Just immediately yanks out the nail and runs for the nearest turnip field. The bear turns into a man with a crown as soon as the nail is out, and the prince doesn’t even talk to him, doesn’t ask any follow-up questions or anything. Straight for the turnip field.</p><p>Where, out of nowhere, a monster appears!</p><p>No further details are provided. The monster has no relevance to the larger story. He runs into the prince, the prince drops the nail, he grabs the nearest object to steady himself, and that object happens to be a thorny bush.</p><p>He pricks himself on the thorns, and bleeds so much he passes out.</p><p>No wonder he was hiding out in the cave. This dude can’t handle a bush. What would have happened if he’d run into a bear that wasn’t domesticated? What would have happened if he’d run into a squirrel in a bad mood? Why did the king let him go out into the woods alone?</p><p>Anyway. He passes out. When he wakes up again, he’s not in the turnip field, and also he’s grown a beard. So, a reasonably long nap. (The next story in this Schonwerth collection also features a man who wakes up to find he's been out long enough to grow a beard. We might talk about that one later.)</p><p>This dude is not concerned that an extended period of time has passed and he's somehow been moved while unconscious. He doesn’t spend any time trying to figure out where he is or what’s happened. He just immediately starts searching for a turnip field.</p><p>Apparently, he really wants a beautiful wife.</p><p>Doesn’t have the nail anymore, though.</p><p>Eventually, he finds a single turnip. Since he doesn’t have the nail, he puts a branch under it instead. Which, somehow, sort of works. He goes to sleep on the ground next to the turnip, and when he wakes up it’s turned into a bowl/large nutshell, with a nail sitting inside of it. Further examination of the inside of the bowl/shell reveals the imprint of “the entire body of a wondrously beautiful maiden.”</p><p>How can he tell how beautiful she is from a dent she left in a nutshell? How large is this nutshell? Is it still roughly the size of a turnip? Is he not concerned about accidently stepping on and murdering his Thumbelina-esque future wife?</p><p>None of these questions will be answered.</p><p>The prince returns to the cave, and I would love to know when and how he figured out where he was and how to get back.</p><p>The cave is abandoned, and the nail is sitting on the ground.</p><p>Which makes no sense, because didn’t he already find the nail in the turnip bowl?</p><p>Anyway. He picks up the nail and puts it back in the wall. The old woman and the bear materialize out of thin air, and the prince starts yelling at the old lady, demanding to know what she did with the alleged beautiful maiden.</p><p>Dude. You have no reason to believe this lady has anything to do with any of this. You got the tip from a talking bear when she wasn’t even there. You didn’t follow the instructions, you lost the nail, and the only evidence you have that this beautiful maiden even exists is a weird indent in a turnip. You need to chill.</p><p>The woman says, “I’m right here. Why do you keep rejecting me?”</p><p>The prince ignores this. The bear tells him to pull the nail out of the wall. He pulls it out halfway.</p><p>The bear turns halfway into a man. The old lady turns halfway into a beautiful maiden.</p><p>He pulls it out the rest of the way. They transform the rest of the way. Apparently, the turnip step is no longer needed. They destroy the nail, the prince marries the girl, and they go back to his kingdom, where they live happily ever after.</p><p>I have. So many questions.</p><p>What is the connection between the bear and the woman? What happens to the former bear when the other two go home and get married? Why were they cursed in the first place? Who cursed them? Was the monster in the turnip field in any way connected to the others? Did whoever set the curse send the monster to prevent it breaking? Was the monster the one who set the curse? Why does this girl even want to marry the prince? He wasn’t very nice to her when she was cursed. Why are there two nails? Why is the turnip not involved in the spell breaking for round two? Why did the bear turn back into a bear, when he was human last time we saw him? If all it took to break the spell was taking a nail out of the wall, why didn’t the girl or the bear just do it themselves? How did the girl go from being an old lady, to being Thumbelina in the turnip, back to being an old lady?</p><p>None of these questions will ever be answered. But speculating is fun.</p>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-61666125421665931342024-01-18T20:44:00.000-06:002024-01-18T20:44:03.321-06:00Patreon<p> I do not have the time or energy to be posting things to multiple platforms every week. So, like, when I get a chance I'll copy things back over to here, but you can get my posts consistently and on time over on <a href="https://www.patreon.com/konglindorm" target="_blank">Patreon</a> - I'm trying to get back into the habit of weekly fairy tale blogs, and the next couple we'll be discussing are The Turnip Princess and The Blue Belt. Hope to see you there!</p>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-66653786988782622872023-12-12T22:38:00.006-06:002023-12-12T22:38:49.051-06:00Patreon Membership! Merch! Book! Etc!<p> <span style="background-color: white; font-family: "ABC Oracle Plus Variable", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space-collapse: preserve-breaks;">Okay, so! The winning pin design was this one:</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZuVyaY1sCZ1bLz91Uni-J4hYpHrzDt3fxO9nt-SIVsTgdhP28dNAk1eA6demJA7ySRfRumCM5F3k6f6MXukL7aZn57ZG7leXrg1JxWt_HnYmnKm7nm5UIP39BEddS2y0Vz9RbBTeT_a7sO513GWQHm3jqQekHRZhJO2Krl1yLd4LVWiljrEd9C65Npwki/s1417/waxheartpin3.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1417" data-original-width="1417" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZuVyaY1sCZ1bLz91Uni-J4hYpHrzDt3fxO9nt-SIVsTgdhP28dNAk1eA6demJA7ySRfRumCM5F3k6f6MXukL7aZn57ZG7leXrg1JxWt_HnYmnKm7nm5UIP39BEddS2y0Vz9RbBTeT_a7sO513GWQHm3jqQekHRZhJO2Krl1yLd4LVWiljrEd9C65Npwki/s320/waxheartpin3.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "ABC Oracle Plus Variable", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space-collapse: preserve-breaks;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: "ABC Oracle Plus Variable", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variation-settings: var(--global-fontVariationSettings-fontWidth-regular),var(--global-fontVariationSettings-fontWeight-regular); line-height: 1.5; margin: 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve-breaks;">And now to discuss what we're doing with the pins. As you may have noticed, I'm really trying to improve Patreon membership and engagement for 2024. This includes a lot of new rewards for various support tiers, as well as plans to, like, actually post things on Patreon regularly.</p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: "ABC Oracle Plus Variable", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variation-settings: var(--global-fontVariationSettings-fontWidth-regular),var(--global-fontVariationSettings-fontWeight-regular); line-height: 1.5; margin: 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve-breaks;"><br /></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: "ABC Oracle Plus Variable", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variation-settings: var(--global-fontVariationSettings-fontWidth-regular),var(--global-fontVariationSettings-fontWeight-regular); line-height: 1.5; margin: 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve-breaks;">One of our new things is that everyone who is a member on the page by January 1, 2024 gets one of these pins. This means free members, paid members, members who signed up on January 1, and members who've been here for five years. Everyone gets a free pin. (Unless you're not comfortable giving out an address, in which case I guess you don't get a pin, because how would I send it to you? I guess you can have a copy of the file so you can make your own pin at home?)</p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: "ABC Oracle Plus Variable", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variation-settings: var(--global-fontVariationSettings-fontWidth-regular),var(--global-fontVariationSettings-fontWeight-regular); line-height: 1.5; margin: 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve-breaks;"><br /></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: "ABC Oracle Plus Variable", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variation-settings: var(--global-fontVariationSettings-fontWidth-regular),var(--global-fontVariationSettings-fontWeight-regular); line-height: 1.5; margin: 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve-breaks;">Another new thing is that everyone who's a member by January 1 is entered in a drawing for a free, signed copy of either Shards of Glass or Lindworm, your choice, with a personalized message. All free members get one entry; all paid members at all tiers get two entries. I'm giving away 5 books. (To five different people—if your name is entered twice and gets drawn twice, you only get one book. I'll draw again.) If you don't want a copy, you can waive it, or you can take it and give it to a friend.</p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: "ABC Oracle Plus Variable", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variation-settings: var(--global-fontVariationSettings-fontWidth-regular),var(--global-fontVariationSettings-fontWeight-regular); line-height: 1.5; margin: 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve-breaks;"><br /></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: "ABC Oracle Plus Variable", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variation-settings: var(--global-fontVariationSettings-fontWidth-regular),var(--global-fontVariationSettings-fontWeight-regular); line-height: 1.5; margin: 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve-breaks;">(It is worth noting that given the current member breakdown, there are 7 people total who are eligible for 1 of 5 books, and 50% of entries go to my family members. So if there seems to be a significant bias in the drawing results, well. That's just math. Become a member to improve the math!)</p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: "ABC Oracle Plus Variable", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variation-settings: var(--global-fontVariationSettings-fontWidth-regular),var(--global-fontVariationSettings-fontWeight-regular); line-height: 1.5; margin: 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve-breaks;"><br /></p><p style="background-color: white; font-variation-settings: var(--global-fontVariationSettings-fontWidth-regular),var(--global-fontVariationSettings-fontWeight-regular); line-height: 1.5; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: ABC Oracle Plus Variable, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Segoe UI, Roboto, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space-collapse: preserve-breaks;"><a href="https://www.patreon.com/konglindorm">https://www.patreon.com/konglindorm</a></span></span></p>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-6411099201204659022023-11-28T08:59:00.004-06:002023-11-28T08:59:53.463-06:00Patreon Updates<p> My Patreon page has been, frankly, pretty sad, pretty much since its inception. The goal is to change that in 2024, and we’re going to discuss some of the new developments today.</p><p>1. It used to be impossible for people who were not financially supporting me to comment on posts. I fixed that. Anyone should be able to comment now, and please, do. I would love to increase general engagement.</p><p>2. New rewards have already been added to the $15 and $25 support tiers. New rewards are in the works for $5 and $10 tiers. I’ve deleted the $20 tier, because no one was using it and I didn’t want to think of something to differentiate it from the others. The $1 tier will continue to get early access and exclusive content.</p><p>3. I am hoping to increase the amount of content I actually share on Patreon, because I’ve been seriously struggling in that department.</p><p>4. Patreon has recently added the option to sell digital media here, and I’m going to look into whether that’s worth doing or not. I will keep you guys posted.</p><p>5. I’m planning to add a Patrons-only coupon that can be used in my store.</p><p>6. I desperately need your feedback on what you’d like to see more of. What were you looking for when you came to this page? If you’ve never been here before, what would make you want to stay? What would make you want to support me?</p><p>· I started with blogs about folk and fairy tales. Did people enjoy that? Would you like me to get that going again?</p><p>· Do you want to see rough drafts or deleted scenes from finished projects?</p><p>· Do you want more content about the writing or publishing process?</p><p>· Do you want more pieces of upcoming projects?</p><p>· Do you like exclusively written content? Would you like to see more variety in format? Maybe videos? Would like a livestream thing be interesting? So we could have, like, actual conversation?</p><p>· I shared an early draft of Lindworm serially on Patreon, years ago. I started sharing a draft of another novel, but stopped because it was difficult to keep up with when no one seemed to really be reading at, at least not in comparison to the numbers I was seeing on the fanfic I was sharing at the same time. Were people reading it? Would you like to, if I started something like that again?</p><p>· (On the topic of fanfic. That’s something I write under a different name, and a name I haven’t shared with everyone on Patreon, because it’s something I like to keep kind of separate and just for me. But if you’d like me to talk about fanfic in general, I’d be happy to do that. Like, original vs fan writing, or the process of writing serially, or how writing fanfic has improved my original fic, or why I’ve still been writing so much fanfic while kind of burned out of my original writing. And if you’re coming here from Tumblr or AO3, and already know about my fanfic, I’d be happy to talk more about the specifics over on Tumblr—just send me a message!)</p><p><br /></p><p><a href="https://www.patreon.com/posts/93585569?utm_campaign=postshare_creator">https://www.patreon.com/posts/93585569?utm_campaign=postshare_creator</a></p>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-40155517390990688312023-08-01T12:00:00.001-05:002023-08-01T12:00:00.147-05:00Shards of Glass: Chapter 1<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; text-align: justify;">I lost Kai when we were nine. He went missing when we were seventeen.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He was my best friend and brother and half my heart. It’s funny, how
those feelings don’t go away. He was practically a stranger, by the time he
disappeared, but he was still all those other things, too.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>(Manda’s still half convinced I’m in love with him. But Manda’s favorite
game is seven minutes in heaven, and I’d rather get a root canal than go on a
date, so there tends to be a fundamental breakdown in communication when we
talk about that kind of thing.)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Kai never came home Saturday night. His grandma reported him missing
Sunday morning. By Monday—<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Monday was a snow day. It had been going on and off since Friday night,
nonstop since Sunday afternoon. My parents were at work, and I wanted to keep
Grandma company, but she was busy, with the police, and the—and I didn’t want
to be in the way. So I heard it from the news, not from her.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Local teen, missing two days. Last seen snowboarding at 3pm on Saturday.
Snowboard washed up on the far side of the river. A glove and a boot found on
the hilltop. Local teen missing, presumed dead.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Kai missing, presumed dead.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Manda called me right after it aired. “I know he was—I’m sorry.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Kai’s not an idiot,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“No one said he was.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“They did. They just did, on channel six—you think Kai would go down
like that? Into the river? Everyone knows you don’t take the hill at that
angle, because the Mississippi doesn’t always freeze.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Okay, but Gerda, if it was already dark when he—”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“He’s not stupid enough to be out in the dark alone, that close to the
river. He’s not, he wouldn’t, Manda. He wouldn’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Okay,” she said again, humoring me. “So what do you think happened?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I don’t know. I just know he’s
not dead. He—he can’t be. Not Kai.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Kai in the dark, squinting at me behind fogged up glasses. Kai laughing
as he packed a snowball, Kai biking in the sun the day the training wheels came
off, Kai in braces and glowers, Kai calling me names, Kai waiting at the back
door with the snow falling at his back. Not Kai. Not Kai.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. And that meant I had to find him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Boots—the heavy black ones that laced in the front. Snow pants—shiny,
black, puffy, ugly, warm. The heaviest coat, the thickest mittens, with thin
gloves beneath. My ice skating socks. Two scarves. That hat Grandma knitted for
me for Christmas. Six granola bars in my pocket.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Kai was a missing person, presumed dead. He was probably more than six
granola bars away.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. I grabbed a seventh granola bar.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had walked across town, down the hill,
along the river, and into the woods, deep and deep and deeper, before the cold
seeped into my shoes, before I realized what I was doing.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I sat abruptly on the snowy ground. I was going to search for my
likely-dead evil neighbor, alone, on a Monday afternoon in January, with
nothing but the clothes on my back.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. I stood up and pulled out the first
granola bar.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Chiller; font-size: 20.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Myanmar Text";">~<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’ve spent my whole life one wall away from Kai. Our families live in
the two units of a townhouse, and our bedrooms share a wall. When we were kids
we had a tin can telephone—we used one of Grandma’s needles with the biggest
eye to pull the thread through the screens in our windows, then attached each
end to a can inside our rooms. Whenever one of us wanted to talk, we’d knock on
the wall, and the other would know to go pick up their can.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had to replace the string a
few times, and the last one fell apart years ago, but the can still lives on my
dresser, with a million other things Mom keeps telling me to throw away. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The last few years, if Kai wanted to talk to me, he’d knock on the wall,
and I’d go downstairs and meet him in the backyard. I don’t knock anymore—I
learned a long time ago that the only way to have a relationship with Kai is on
his terms.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Manda says that’s unhealthy. I say Manda’s a hypocrite—she forgives
people who keep hurting her, too. She says it’s different because Kai’s not my
family. But he might as well be. You don’t stop loving people just because they
become unlovable. I may not have liked Kai much, the last few years. But I’ll
always do anything for the sake of the person he used to be.</span><span style="font-family: Chiller; font-size: 20.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Myanmar Text";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Chiller; font-size: 20.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Myanmar Text";">~</span><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I know it started when we were nine, the trouble. That was the year Kai
got glasses. It was also the year he got mean. (Unrelated.) He just got meaner
and meaner. He had a special talent for mimicry that showed up that year, and
he just—<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was a huge rosebush between our front doors, and it made the
biggest, brightest, best-smelling red roses I’ve ever seen, prettier even than
the ones you can get from a florist. We were sitting just in front of it, holding
very, very still, because there were a bunch of bees around. (Kai always liked
bees.) And all of the sudden he shouted.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I asked him if he’d got stung, and he shook his head. “Feels like
something flew into my eye.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A minute later a bee landed on his hand, and he caught it—grabbed it by
the wings.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“What are you doing?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He shrugged. “I wanted a closer look,” he said. And he held it up really
close to his face—I think he needed the glasses by then—but it was struggling,
so it was hard to really look at. So he grabbed the stinger and pulled it
out—because losing their stingers kills them—and then it wasn’t moving anymore,
and he could get a better look.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And it was so mean, and I was shouting at him, and then he just—dropped
it, and he said, “I don’t—I don’t know why I did that. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean
to.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We dug a little hole and buried the bee under the oak tree in the
backyard. But that was when it started. The day he killed that bee. It happened
slowly. He started mocking people and stomping on ants and being rude to
Grandma. But only sometimes. Other times he was nice. Other times he was still
my best friend. And I just kept hoping he’d grow back out of it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>(When your best friend grows up to be a jerk, you never suspect it’s
because of magic.)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Chiller; font-size: 22.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Myanmar Text";">~<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was twelve by the time I admitted to myself that Kai and I weren’t
friends anymore. I was sleeping over at his house—we were already a few years
out from being sleepover friends, really. But my parents have always travelled
a lot, and until I turned fifteen and they decided I could stay home alone
overnight, I stayed with Grandma and Kai.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Kai still had his bunk bed back then—one bed for him, and one for a
friend, and that friend was always me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I don’t even remember what he said. He’d been saying horrible things,
and I’d been trying to ignore them, for a long time by then. I didn’t hang on
to the things he said—I always just tried to forget them as soon as possible.
But whatever he said that night, it upset me, more than the things he said
usually did. It might have been about my parents—my adoptive parents, not my
bio ones. Kai would never go there, even at his worst. Both sets are sore
subjects, but there are lines Kai won’t cross, and there were more of them when
we were twelve.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My parents are my uncle—my bio mom’s brother—and his wife, really. My
bio parents died in a car crash, and they were the only family left. At least,
the only family we know about, because my bio dad was from Taiwan, and no one
knew if he had any family left there or how to contact them. My parents adopted
me because I was family, and it was the right thing to do. They love me, I
think. They’ve had me since before I turned two. But I know they never wanted
kids. So I’m touchy about it. That would have hurt my feelings, more than most
things Kai might have said when we were twelve.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Whatever he said, I climbed down from the top bunk and went to Grandma’s
room; she was sitting up in bed, reading.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“I don’t want to sleep in there. Kai’s being mean.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Grandma sighed and put down her book. She was hoping he’d grow out of
it, too, but no luck, no matter how many groundings and timeouts and whatever
he got. “Well, maybe you’re getting to be at the age where you shouldn’t be
sharing a room.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>After that I slept on the pullout couch, until Mom and Dad let me just
stay home.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Chiller; font-size: 20.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Myanmar Text";">~<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was thoroughly lost and down two granola bars by the time I thought of
Grandma. (His grandma, not mine, not really.) To be told Kai was probably dead,
and then that I’d gone missing—well, they’d probably find my body before Kai’s,
even if he really was dead, because I didn’t go barreling toward the
Mississippi like a first-rate idiot.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We’re all she has left. To lose us both in the same weekend—<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And my parents. My parents—I’m the only family they have, too, and
they’d definitely blame themselves if I wandered into the woods and froze to
death when they were both working late again—and I knew I was going to freeze
to death. I was beyond numb. I kept starting to fall asleep, and then the panic
would wake me. I had no idea how long I’d been out—I didn’t have a watch, and
it gets dark so early in the winter, it could have been less than an hour, or
it could have been three or four. No one would miss me probably until
morning—when Mom and Dad got home they’d just assume I was already in bed, so
either they’d find my bed empty in the morning, or they’d leave early and
someone at school would be the first to realize I was gone. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was going to freeze to death searching for a stupid jerk who was
probably dead already, and there was no way Manda would ever believe I wasn’t
in love with him after this—or anyone else either, and why should that even
matter, when I was about to freeze to death?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Chiller; font-size: 20.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Myanmar Text";">~<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We live in a cul-de-sac, with a huge circle of grass at the end, where
the turn-around is—I guess it belongs to the city. But we used to build snow
forts there every winter. Me and Kai—we were the only kids on the block, back
then. There are some younger kids now, and I’ve seen them do the same thing.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was always a huge fort—we’d work on it for weeks. The plow would pile
all the snow from the street there, so we had plenty of material to work with.
We’d dig tunnels into the big piles the plow left. We were in there all day on
weekends, and over Christmas break, until Grandma or my parents came to dig us
out.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Grandma would never come into the fort—she said her knees were too
old—but she used to bring us each a thermos of hot chocolate while we were
working. We’d go into the biggest cavern we’d dug out so far, and sit on the
packed-down snow on the ground, pressed tight together, to drink it. No one
makes hot chocolate like Grandma—I’ve watched her do it, and she just uses the cheap
powder like everyone else, but hers tastes better.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was sitting on the ground in the woods, imagining Kai was pressed into
my side, thinking of Grandma’s hot chocolate. And I wasn’t cold anymore, and I
knew I was dying.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Then I woke up.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">-</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Myanmar Text",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Preorders open now on <a href="http://waxheartpress.com">waxheartpress.com</a>!</span></p>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-61715796421952220022023-07-25T12:30:00.001-05:002023-07-25T12:30:00.152-05:00The Snow Queen: Story the Seventh: Of the Palace of the Snow Queen and What Happened There at Last<p>The final part of the story begins by taking us back to Kai,
who we haven’t seen in four sections. He’s in the Snow Queen’s palace, which is
all made of snow, consisting of one hundred rooms, all of them empty.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The Snow Queen sits at the center of a frozen lake called
the Mirror of Reason. We find Kai blue, nearly black, with cold, but the Snow Queen’s
kisses prevent him from feeling it. He’s building shapes from fragments of ice,
which seems to him, due to the glass in his heart and eye, to be very
important. He’s made many impressive figures, shapes, and words, but his goal
is to form the word eternity—the Snow Queen has told him that if he does, he
will be his own master, and she will give him the whole world and a new pair of
skates.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The Snow Queen tells him that she must go spread snow in the
warmer countries, and leaves Kai in the Mirror of Reason alone, still working
on his puzzle.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Gerda finds him here. She never actually encounters the Snow
Queen, which is one of the things I’ve done differently for my retelling.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Gerda’s prayers calm the icy winds, and she runs to Kai and
hugs him. He doesn’t react, and she begins to cry, her hot tears melting his
frozen heart and washing away the piece of glass. She sings the hymn that they
learned in part two, and Kai cries as well, dislodging the glass from his eye.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He recognizes Gerda, and realizes how cold it is. Their
reunion is so joyous that the ice shards get up and dance, then lay themselves
out spelling the word eternity. Gerda kisses Kai, as the Snow Queen kissed him,
warming him where she froze him. They walk out of the palace together, and the
winds still, and the sun shines, and the reindeer is waiting for them with a
friend who feeds them fresh milk before they return to the Finland woman.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The Finland woman gives them directions home, and the
Lapland woman gives them new clothes. They leave the reindeer in Lapland, and
continue on foot. They meet the robber girl, who’s set off on her own, and she
tells them that the prince and princess are travelling, the crow has died, and
his wife is in mourning. She promises to visit Kai and Gerda if she’s ever in
the area, and rides away.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kai and Gerda return home to their grandmother, where they
find that they’ve both grown up while they were away. The Snow Queen’s palace
fades from their memories like a bad dream, and they sit among the roses like
they did when they were children. Their grandmother reads a verse about
becoming as little children, and they think of their hymn, and it is summer.</p>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-32128447527511916062023-07-25T12:00:00.001-05:002023-07-25T12:00:00.138-05:00SEVENTH STORY: OF THE PALACE OF THE SNOW QUEEN AND WHAT HAPPENED THERE AT LAST<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqOskVXADxZVQwmhA3b1ep6D99q0L-xOqCvbLHwCsdRNx448VfMdRRPB5p6rzE81r_I-YD0LJvqC6kF6p6ZuSYcvfX4xNN9m7Tz2y1MNFCNnxmqxPdcXStStJNe91XsDCvTO2kLq0mdlSHVZWsmEcAJpPvrG68B57eWY-xx3aFrqsvpjpZOzxzyKGm0A/s1103/IMG_7871.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1103" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqOskVXADxZVQwmhA3b1ep6D99q0L-xOqCvbLHwCsdRNx448VfMdRRPB5p6rzE81r_I-YD0LJvqC6kF6p6ZuSYcvfX4xNN9m7Tz2y1MNFCNnxmqxPdcXStStJNe91XsDCvTO2kLq0mdlSHVZWsmEcAJpPvrG68B57eWY-xx3aFrqsvpjpZOzxzyKGm0A/s320/IMG_7871.jpg" width="218" /></a></div><p></p><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="2pld0-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="2pld0-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="2pld0-0-0">(Over the next seven weeks, I’ll be posting both the text of the Snow Queen, and my thoughts on it. This is the text of the seventh and final section. All text comes from the public domain translation of Andersen’s works edited by J. H. Stickney and published in 1886. The illustrations, by Edna Hart, are from this edition as well.)</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="4aguj-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="4aguj-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="4aguj-0-0">The walls of the palace were formed of drifted snow, and the windows and doors of cutting winds. There were more than a hundred rooms in it, all as if they had been formed of snow blown together. The largest of them extended for several miles. They were all lighted up by the vivid light of the aurora, and were so large and empty, so icy cold and glittering!</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="1r5he-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="1r5he-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="1r5he-0-0">There were no amusements here; not even a little bear's ball, when the storm might have been the music, and the bears could have danced on their hind legs and shown their good manners. There were no pleasant games of snapdragon, or touch, nor even a gossip over the tea table for the young-lady foxes. Empty, vast, and cold were the halls of the Snow Queen.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="1lc9m-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="1lc9m-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="1lc9m-0-0">The flickering flames of the northern lights could be plainly seen, whether they rose high or low in the heavens, from every part of the castle. In the midst of this empty, endless hall of snow was a frozen lake, broken on its surface into a thousand forms; each piece resembled another, because each was in itself perfect as a work of art, and in the center of this lake sat the Snow Queen when she was at home. She called the lake "The Mirror of Reason," and said that it was the best, and indeed the only one, in the world.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="avosd-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="avosd-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="avosd-0-0">Little Kai was quite blue with cold,—indeed, almost black,—but he did not feel it; for the Snow Queen had kissed away the icy shiverings, and his heart was already a lump of ice. He dragged some sharp, flat pieces of ice to and fro and placed them together in all kinds of positions, as if he wished to make something out of them—just as we try to form various figures with little tablets of wood, which we call a "Chinese puzzle." Kai's figures were very artistic; it was the icy game of reason at which he played, and in his eyes the figures were very remarkable and of the highest importance; this opinion was owing to the splinter of glass still sticking in his eye. He composed many complete figures, forming different words, but there was one word he never could manage to form, although he wished it very much. It was the word "Eternity."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="fc0fk-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="fc0fk-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="fc0fk-0-0">The Snow Queen had said to him, "When you can find out this, you shall be your own master, and I will give you the whole world and a new pair of skates." But he could not accomplish it.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="50ste-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="50ste-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="50ste-0-0">"Now I must hasten away to warmer countries," said the Snow Queen. "I will go and look into the black craters of the tops of the burning mountains, Etna and Vesuvius, as they are called. I shall make them look white, which will be good for them and for the lemons and the grapes." And away flew the Snow Queen, leaving little Kai quite alone in the great hall which was so many miles in length. He sat and looked at his pieces of ice and was thinking so deeply and sat so still that any one might have supposed he was frozen.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="e8lvs-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="e8lvs-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="e8lvs-0-0">Just at this moment it happened that little Gerda came through the great door of the castle. Cutting winds were raging around her, but she offered up a prayer, and the winds sank down as if they were going to sleep. On she went till she came to the large, empty hall and caught sight of Kai. She knew him directly; she flew to him and threw her arms around his neck and held him fast while she exclaimed, "Kai, dear little Kai, I have found you at last!"</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="bekum-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="bekum-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="bekum-0-0">But he sat quite still, stiff and cold.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="chl6p-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="chl6p-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="chl6p-0-0">Then little Gerda wept hot tears, which fell on his breast, and penetrated into his heart, and thawed the lump of ice, and washed away the little piece of glass which had stuck there. Then he looked at her, and she sang:</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="c1h0v-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="c1h0v-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="c1h0v-0-0">"Roses bloom and fade away,</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="3nop8-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="3nop8-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="3nop8-0-0">But we the Christ-child see alway."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="6pfeb-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="6pfeb-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="6pfeb-0-0">Then Kai burst into tears. He wept so that the splinter of glass swam out of his eye. Then he recognized Gerda and said joyfully, "Gerda, dear little Gerda, where have you been all this time, and where have I been?" And he looked all around him and said, "How cold it is, and how large and empty it all looks," and he clung to Gerda, and she laughed and wept for joy.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="dc5l5-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="dc5l5-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="dc5l5-0-0">It was so pleasing to see them that even the pieces of ice danced, and when they were tired and went to lie down they formed themselves into the letters of the word which the Snow Queen had said he must find out before he could be his own master and have the whole world and a pair of new skates.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="d3p0o-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d3p0o-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="d3p0o-0-0">Gerda kissed his cheeks, and they became blooming; and she kissed his eyes till they shone like her own; she kissed his hands and feet, and he became quite healthy and cheerful. The Snow Queen might come home now when she pleased, for there stood his certainty of freedom, in the word she wanted, written in shining letters of ice.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="9325t-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="9325t-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="9325t-0-0">Then they took each other by the hand and went forth from the great palace of ice. They spoke of the grandmother and of the roses on the roof, and as they went on the winds were at rest, and the sun burst forth. When they arrived at the bush with red berries, there stood the reindeer waiting for them, and he had brought another young reindeer with him, whose udders were full, and the children drank her warm milk and kissed her on the mouth.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="3hai0-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="3hai0-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="3hai0-0-0">They carried Kai and Gerda first to the Finland woman, where they warmed themselves thoroughly in the hot room and had directions about their journey home. Next they went to the Lapland woman, who had made some new clothes for them and put their sleighs in order. Both the reindeer ran by their side and followed them as far as the boundaries of the country, where the first green leaves were budding. And here they took leave of the two reindeer and the Lapland woman, and all said farewell.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="53gvn-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="53gvn-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="53gvn-0-0">Then birds began to twitter, and the forest too was full of green young leaves, and out of it came a beautiful horse, which Gerda remembered, for it was one which had drawn the golden coach. A young girl was riding upon it, with a shining red cap on her head and pistols in her belt. It was the little robber maiden, who had got tired of staying at home; she was going first to the north, and if that did not suit her, she meant to try some other part of the world. She knew Gerda directly, and Gerda remembered her; it was a joyful meeting.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="pi6e-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="pi6e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="pi6e-0-0">"You are a fine fellow to go gadding about in this way," said she to little Kai. "I should like to know whether you deserve that any one should go to the end of the world to find you."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="99ji-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="99ji-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="99ji-0-0">But Gerda patted her cheeks and asked after the prince and princess.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="fnfqd-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="fnfqd-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="fnfqd-0-0">"They are gone to foreign countries," said the robber girl.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="dffk0-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="dffk0-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="dffk0-0-0">"And the crow?" asked Gerda.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="1ke6u-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="1ke6u-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="1ke6u-0-0">"Oh, the crow is dead," she replied. "His tame sweetheart is now a widow and wears a bit of black worsted round her leg. She mourns very pitifully, but it is all stuff. But now tell me how you managed to get him back."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="etn2o-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="etn2o-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="etn2o-0-0">Then Gerda and Kai told her all about it.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="8gdia-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="8gdia-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="8gdia-0-0">"Snip, snap, snurre! it's all right at last," said the robber girl.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="2tds4-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="2tds4-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="2tds4-0-0">She took both their hands and promised that if ever she should pass through the town, she would call and pay them a visit. And then she rode away into the wide world.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="c047m-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="c047m-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="c047m-0-0">But Gerda and Kai went hand in hand toward home, and as they advanced, spring appeared more lovely with its green verdure and its beautiful flowers. Very soon they recognized the large town where they lived, and the tall steeples of the churches in which the sweet bells were ringing a merry peal, as they entered it and found their way to their grandmother's door.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="9aqaq-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="9aqaq-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="9aqaq-0-0">They went upstairs into the little room, where all looked just as it used to do. The old clock was going "Tick, tick," and the hands pointed to the time of day, but as they passed through the door into the room they perceived that they were both grown up and become a man and woman. The roses out on the roof were in full bloom and peeped in at the window, and there stood the little chairs on which they had sat when children, and Kai and Gerda seated themselves each on their own chair and held each other by the hand, while the cold, empty grandeur of the Snow Queen's palace vanished from their memories like a painful dream.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="do41h-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="do41h-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="do41h-0-0">The grandmother sat in God's bright sunshine, and she read aloud from the Bible, "Except ye become as little children, ye shall in no wise enter into the kingdom of God." And Kai and Gerda looked into each other's eyes and all at once understood the words of the old song:</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="t57q-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="t57q-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="t57q-0-0">Roses bloom and fade away,</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="a7r08-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="a7r08-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="a7r08-0-0">But we the Christ-child see alway.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="a2lde" data-offset-key="88o84-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="88o84-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="88o84-0-0">And they both sat there, grown up, yet children at heart, and it was summer—warm, beautiful summer.</span></div></div>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-56963152529687382722023-07-18T12:30:00.001-05:002023-07-18T12:30:00.136-05:00The Snow Queen: Story the Sixth: The Lapland Woman and the Finland Woman<p>Gerda and the reindeer reach Lapland, where they meet n old
woman in a small hut dressing fish, she tells them that the Snow Queen was in
Lapland, but has now moved on to Finland. She writes a note on a piece of
stockfish for Gerda to deliver to a woman she knows in Finland, and Gerda and
the reindeer are off again. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">They reach the Finnish woman, who lives in a very hot house.
She reads the message and cooks the fish. The reindeer, apparently, recognizes
the woman; he says she can tie all the winds together, and asks her to give
Gerda the power of twelve men, to face the snow queen. She says this wouldn’t
be useful, but does read off a bunch of magic words. The reindeer asks again
that she give Gerda strength, and the old woman explains that Kai has enchanted
glass in his eyes and heart, and is therefore quite content where he is. She
explains that Gerda’s own purity and innocence will be a more powerful tool
than any enchantment she could cast, and sends the two of them on their way
again.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Gerda forgets her boots and mittens here, and they haven’t
the time to go back for them, so she’s dropped off barefoot in the Snow Queen’s
garden. The reindeer leaves her there, as instructed by the old woman, and
Gerda makes her way from the garden to the palace alone. She’s attacked by the Snow
Queen’s guards, snakes and bears and porcupines made of ice. But she forges
ahead, repeating the Lord’s prayer over and over again as she walks, and each
time she repeats it an angel appears, until she has an army of them, fighting
the ice creatures and rubbing her bare feet and hands to keep them warm.<o:p></o:p></p>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-13986892661936320522023-07-18T12:00:00.001-05:002023-07-18T12:00:00.146-05:00SIXTH STORY: THE LAPLAND WOMAN AND THE FINLAND WOMAN<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHfNxrPxOpBEV0otYegEfUqOb0L0XJ5Mn9OmhqGUW1kYMBFtBXkJoJJDcigYIejVqS5NiIjveSSsou8cNCxEWwtk2mwcEXeCJqOQgQ9MNLWG_JZDa3WJIEi0BFVAzMsVOvDtwgnKxH1znq1J1IJpBRPhwPywW_OlBaJ0Nijv3Yqfjt5biZHfSOebMhIQ/s2978/IMG_7854.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1846" data-original-width="2978" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHfNxrPxOpBEV0otYegEfUqOb0L0XJ5Mn9OmhqGUW1kYMBFtBXkJoJJDcigYIejVqS5NiIjveSSsou8cNCxEWwtk2mwcEXeCJqOQgQ9MNLWG_JZDa3WJIEi0BFVAzMsVOvDtwgnKxH1znq1J1IJpBRPhwPywW_OlBaJ0Nijv3Yqfjt5biZHfSOebMhIQ/s320/IMG_7854.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="13a3h" data-offset-key="8dcgq-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="8dcgq-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="8dcgq-0-0">(Over the next seven weeks, I’ll be posting both the text of the Snow Queen, and my thoughts on it. This is the text of the sixth section. All text comes from the public domain translation of Andersen’s works edited by J. H. Stickney and published in 1886. Today's illustration is by Fritz Kredel.)</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="13a3h" data-offset-key="4hfqq-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="4hfqq-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="4hfqq-0-0">They stopped at a little hut; it was very mean looking. The roof sloped nearly down to the ground, and the door was so low that the family had to creep in on their hands and knees when they went in and out. There was no one at home but an old Lapland woman who was dressing fish by the light of a train-oil lamp.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="13a3h" data-offset-key="fandk-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="fandk-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="fandk-0-0">The reindeer told her all about Gerda's story after having first told his own, which seemed to him the most important. But Gerda was so pinched with the cold that she could not speak.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="13a3h" data-offset-key="1stt7-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="1stt7-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="1stt7-0-0">"Oh, you poor things," said the Lapland woman, "you have a long way to go yet. You must travel more than a hundred miles farther, to Finland. The Snow Queen lives there now, and she burns Bengal lights every evening. I will write a few words on a dried stockfish, for I have no paper, and you can take it from me to the Finland woman who lives there. She can give you better information than I can."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="13a3h" data-offset-key="d1dlu-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d1dlu-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="d1dlu-0-0">So when Gerda was warmed and had taken something to eat and drink, the woman wrote a few words on the dried fish and told Gerda to take great care of it. Then she tied her again on the back of the reindeer, and he sprang high into the air and set off at full speed. Flash, flash, went the beautiful blue northern lights the whole night long.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="13a3h" data-offset-key="7co1v-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="7co1v-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="7co1v-0-0">And at length they reached Finland and knocked at the chimney of the Finland woman's hut, for it had no door above the ground. They crept in, but it was so terribly hot inside that the woman wore scarcely any clothes. She was small and very dirty looking. She loosened little Gerda's dress and took off the fur boots and the mittens, or Gerda would have been unable to bear the heat; and then she placed a piece of ice on the reindeer's head and read what was written on the dried fish. After she had read it three times she knew it by heart, so she popped the fish into the soup saucepan, as she knew it was good to eat, and she never wasted anything.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="13a3h" data-offset-key="9ga4g-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="9ga4g-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="9ga4g-0-0">The reindeer told his own story first and then little Gerda's, and the Finlander twinkled with her clever eyes, but said nothing.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="13a3h" data-offset-key="bj98a-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="bj98a-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="bj98a-0-0">"You are so clever," said the reindeer; "I know you can tie all the winds of the world with a piece of twine. If a sailor unties one knot, he has a fair wind; when he unties the second, it blows hard; but if the third and fourth are loosened, then comes a storm which will root up whole forests. Cannot you give this little maiden something which will make her as strong as twelve men, to overcome the Snow Queen?"</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="13a3h" data-offset-key="92o7l-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="92o7l-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="92o7l-0-0">"The power of twelve men!" said the Finland woman. "That would be of very little use." But she went to a shelf and took down and unrolled a large skin on which were inscribed wonderful characters, and she read till the perspiration ran down from her forehead.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="13a3h" data-offset-key="54crq-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="54crq-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="54crq-0-0">But the reindeer begged so hard for little Gerda, and Gerda looked at the Finland woman with such tender, tearful eyes, that her own eyes began to twinkle again. She drew the reindeer into a corner and whispered to him while she laid a fresh piece of ice on his head: "Little Kai is really with the Snow Queen, but he finds everything there so much to his taste and his liking that he believes it is the finest place in the world; and this is because he has a piece of broken glass in his heart and a little splinter of glass in his eye. These must be taken out, or he will never be a human being again, and the Snow Queen will retain her power over him."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="13a3h" data-offset-key="448f5-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="448f5-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="448f5-0-0">"But can you not give little Gerda something to help her to conquer this power?"</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="13a3h" data-offset-key="4auga-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="4auga-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="4auga-0-0">"I can give her no greater power than she has already," said the woman; "don't you see how strong that is? how men and animals are obliged to serve her, and how well she has gotten through the world, barefooted as she is? She cannot receive any power from me greater than she now has, which consists in her own purity and innocence of heart. If she cannot herself obtain access to the Snow Queen and remove the glass fragments from little Kai, we can do nothing to help her. Two miles from here the Snow Queen's garden begins. You can carry the little girl so far, and set her down by the large bush which stands in the snow, covered with red berries. Do not stay gossiping, but come back here as quickly as you can." Then the Finland woman lifted little Gerda upon the reindeer, and he ran away with her as quickly as he could.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="13a3h" data-offset-key="7lbu-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="7lbu-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="7lbu-0-0">"Oh, I have forgotten my boots and my mittens," cried little Gerda, as soon as she felt the cutting cold; but the reindeer dared not stop, so he ran on till he reached the bush with the red berries. Here he set Gerda down, and he kissed her, and the great bright tears trickled over the animal's cheeks; then he left her and ran back as fast as he could.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="13a3h" data-offset-key="65r8a-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="65r8a-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="65r8a-0-0">There stood poor Gerda, without shoes, without gloves, in the midst of cold, dreary, ice-bound Finland. She ran forward as quickly as she could, when a whole regiment of snowflakes came round her. They did not, however, fall from the sky, which was quite clear and glittered with the northern lights. The snowflakes ran along the ground, and the nearer they came to her the larger they appeared. Gerda remembered how large and beautiful they looked through the burning glass. But these were really larger and much more terrible, for they were alive and were the guards of the Snow Queen and had the strangest shapes. Some were like great porcupines, others like twisted serpents with their heads stretching out, and some few were like little fat bears with their hair bristled; but all were dazzlingly white, and all were living snowflakes.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="13a3h" data-offset-key="dfr6r-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="dfr6r-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="dfr6r-0-0">Little Gerda repeated the Lord's Prayer, and the cold was so great that she could see her own breath come out of her mouth like steam, as she uttered the words. The steam appeared to increase as she continued her prayer, till it took the shape of little angels, who grew larger the moment they touched the earth. They all wore helmets on their heads and carried spears and shields. Their number continued to increase more and more, and by the time Gerda had finished her prayers a whole legion stood round her. They thrust their spears into the terrible snowflakes so that they shivered into a hundred pieces, and little Gerda could go forward with courage and safety. The angels stroked her hands and feet, so that she felt the cold less as she hastened on to the Snow Queen's castle.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="13a3h" data-offset-key="c7ohm-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="c7ohm-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="c7ohm-0-0">But now we must see what Kai is doing. In truth he thought not of little Gerda, and least of all that she could be standing at the front of the palace.</span></div></div>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-72576570100794424762023-07-11T12:30:00.001-05:002023-07-11T12:30:00.170-05:00The Snow Queen: Story the Fifth: The Little Robber Girl<p>This section opens with Gerda’s coach being attacked by
robbers, and all the men the princess sent with her being murdered—a somewhat
jarring turn of events, since there’s no real violence in the story before or
since. The leader of the robbers, a woman with a beard, wants to kill and eat
Gerda. She’s stopped by her daughter, who bites the mother, twice, gets into
the coach with Gerda, and drives it off. She steals Gerda’s muff and boots,
listens to her story, and promises that none of the other robbers will kill
her—because if she causes any trouble, the robber girl will kill her herself. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">They reach the robbers’ home, a dilapidated castle full of badly
treated animals, primarily birds, but also some dogs, and one reindeer. The
robber girl enjoys ticking the reindeer with a knife, which, understandably,
terrifies him. She falls asleep with one hand wrapped around Gerda, and one
around her knife.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">While she sleeps, the animals tell Gerda they’ve seen Kai,
riding north toward Lapland in the Snow Queen’s sleigh. In the morning, she
tells the robber girl, who sends Gerda off with the reindeer, her boots, and a
pair of her mother’s mittens, as she wants to keep the muff.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This is a pretty good arrangement for the reindeer, who gets
to escape the robber girl and her knife, and finally return home to Lapland.</p>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-7010407314658201662023-07-11T12:00:00.001-05:002023-07-11T12:00:00.144-05:00FIFTH STORY: THE LITTLE ROBBER GIRL<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxCqp1fW6SOpm5fm6R4uZWc5IUlmtSMkebGYL-b0bVFtI5UyJSWlAAjNXc-QFpeQITlx7gsCMuCIiUvoOQFPOpvtRl06XP-JoV2DXS6ra0BB5ty9yh_BXsE1ppIS5gvVAlfEoL9GkA97RvkE4THktWci6VMu0brgZ1TSBU6S_llt4sPc8g1fm88zdhHQ/s2202/IMG_7853.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1809" data-original-width="2202" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxCqp1fW6SOpm5fm6R4uZWc5IUlmtSMkebGYL-b0bVFtI5UyJSWlAAjNXc-QFpeQITlx7gsCMuCIiUvoOQFPOpvtRl06XP-JoV2DXS6ra0BB5ty9yh_BXsE1ppIS5gvVAlfEoL9GkA97RvkE4THktWci6VMu0brgZ1TSBU6S_llt4sPc8g1fm88zdhHQ/s320/IMG_7853.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; white-space-collapse: preserve;">(Over the next seven weeks, I’ll be posting both the text of the Snow Queen, and my thoughts on it. This is the text of the fifth section. All text comes from the public domain translation of Andersen’s works edited by J. H. Stickney and published in 1886. Today's illustration is from Fritz Kredel.)</span><p></p><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="3s31q-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="3s31q-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="3s31q-0-0">The coach drove on through a thick forest, where it lighted up the way like a torch and dazzled the eyes of some robbers, who could not bear to let it pass them unmolested.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="e0rr3-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="e0rr3-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="e0rr3-0-0">"It is gold! it is gold!" cried they, rushing forward and seizing the horses. Then they struck dead the little jockeys, the coachman, and the footman, and pulled little Gerda out of the carriage.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="3oi19-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="3oi19-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="3oi19-0-0">"She is plump and pretty. She has been fed with the kernels of nuts," said the old robber woman, who had a long beard, and eyebrows that hung over her eyes. "She is as good as a fatted lamb; how nice she will taste!" and as she said this she drew forth a shining knife, that glittered horribly. "Oh!" screamed the old woman at the same moment, for her own daughter, who held her back, had bitten her in the ear. "You naughty girl," said the mother, and now she had not time to kill Gerda.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="2c1pv-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="2c1pv-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="2c1pv-0-0">"She shall play with me," said the little robber girl. "She shall give me her muff and her pretty dress, and sleep with me in my bed." And then she bit her mother again, and all the robbers laughed.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="cplrv-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="cplrv-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="cplrv-0-0">"I will have a ride in the coach," said the little robber girl, and she would have her own way, for she was self-willed and obstinate.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="4e0v5-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="4e0v5-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="4e0v5-0-0">She and Gerda seated themselves in the coach and drove away over stumps and stones, into the depths of the forest. The little robber girl was about the same size as Gerda, but stronger; she had broader shoulders and a darker skin; her eyes were quite black, and she had a mournful look. She clasped little Gerda round the waist and said:</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="8l68k-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="8l68k-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="8l68k-0-0">"They shall not kill you as long as you don't make me vexed with you. I suppose you are a princess."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="2fgo3-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="2fgo3-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="2fgo3-0-0">"No," said Gerda; and then she told her all her history and how fond she was of little Kai.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="c15b2-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="c15b2-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="c15b2-0-0">The robber girl looked earnestly at her, nodded her head slightly, and said, "They shan't kill you even if I do get angry with you, for I will do it myself." And then she wiped Gerda's eyes and put her own hands into the beautiful muff, which was so soft and warm.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="eagnc-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="eagnc-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="eagnc-0-0">The coach stopped in the courtyard of a robber's castle, the walls of which were full of cracks from top to bottom. Ravens and crows flew in and out of the holes and crevices, while great bulldogs, each of which looked as if it could swallow a man, were jumping about; but they were not allowed to bark.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="dl1iv-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="dl1iv-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="dl1iv-0-0">In the large old smoky hall a bright fire was burning on the stone floor. There was no chimney, so the smoke went up to the ceiling and found a way out for itself. Soup was boiling in a large cauldron, and hares and rabbits were roasting on the spit.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="aivgh-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="aivgh-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="aivgh-0-0">"You shall sleep with me and all my little animals to-night," said the robber girl after they had had something to eat and drink. So she took Gerda to a corner of the hall where some straw and carpets were laid down. Above them, on laths and perches, were more than a hundred pigeons that all seemed to be asleep, although they moved slightly when the two little girls came near them. "These all belong to me," said the robber girl, and she seized the nearest to her, held it by the feet, and shook it till it flapped its wings. "Kiss it," cried she, flapping it in Gerda's face.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="2rq0a-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="2rq0a-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="2rq0a-0-0">"There sit the wood pigeons," continued she, pointing to a number of laths and a cage which had been fixed into the walls, near one of the openings. "Both rascals would fly away directly, if they were not closely locked up. And here is my old sweetheart 'Ba,'" and she dragged out a reindeer by the horn; he wore a bright copper ring round his neck and was tethered to the spot. "We are obliged to hold him tight too, else he would run away from us also. I tickle his neck every evening with my sharp knife, which frightens him very much." And the robber girl drew a long knife from a chink in the wall and let it slide gently over the reindeer's neck. The poor animal began to kick, and the little robber girl laughed and pulled down Gerda into bed with her.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="bltfc-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="bltfc-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="bltfc-0-0">"Will you have that knife with you while you are asleep?" asked Gerda, looking at it in great fright.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="fmds0-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="fmds0-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="fmds0-0-0">"I always sleep with the knife by me," said the robber girl. "No one knows what may happen. But now tell me again all about little Kai, and why you went out into the world."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="18q7q-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="18q7q-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="18q7q-0-0">Then Gerda repeated her story over again, while the wood pigeons in the cage over her cooed, and the other pigeons slept. The little robber girl put one arm across Gerda's neck, and held the knife in the other, and was soon fast asleep and snoring. But Gerda could not close her eyes at all; she knew not whether she was to live or to die. The robbers sat round the fire, singing and drinking. It was a terrible sight for a little girl to witness.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="2tonv-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="2tonv-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="2tonv-0-0">Then the wood pigeons said: "Coo, coo, we have seen little Kai. A white fowl carried his sledge, and he sat in the carriage of the Snow Queen, which drove through the wood while we were lying in our nest. She blew upon us, and all the young ones died, excepting us two. Coo, coo."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="6fleq-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="6fleq-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="6fleq-0-0">"What are you saying up there?" cried Gerda. "Where was the Snow Queen going? Do you know anything about it?"</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="k754-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="k754-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="k754-0-0">"She was most likely traveling to Lapland, where there is always snow and ice. Ask the reindeer that is fastened up there with a rope."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="e2m8d-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="e2m8d-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="e2m8d-0-0">"Yes, there is always snow and ice," said the reindeer, "and it is a glorious place; you can leap and run about freely on the sparkling icy plains. The Snow Queen has her summer tent there, but her strong castle is at the North Pole, on an island called Spitzbergen."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="fthms-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="fthms-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="fthms-0-0">"O Kai, little Kai!" sighed Gerda.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="b2bg-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="b2bg-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="b2bg-0-0">"Lie still," said the robber girl, "or you shall feel my knife."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="7pa1v-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="7pa1v-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="7pa1v-0-0">In the morning Gerda told her all that the wood pigeons had said, and the little robber girl looked quite serious, and nodded her head and said: "That is all talk, that is all talk. Do you know where Lapland is?" she asked the reindeer.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="frkgp-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="frkgp-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="frkgp-0-0">"Who should know better than I do?" said the animal, while his eyes sparkled. "I was born and brought up there and used to run about the snow-covered plains."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="dntg0-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="dntg0-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="dntg0-0-0">"Now listen," said the robber girl; "all our men are gone away; only mother is here, and here she will stay; but at noon she always drinks out of a great bottle, and afterwards sleeps for a little while; and then I'll do something for you." She jumped out of bed, clasped her mother round the neck, and pulled her by the beard, crying, "My own little nanny goat, good morning!" And her mother pinched her nose till it was quite red; yet she did it all for love.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="2fn50-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="2fn50-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="2fn50-0-0">When the mother had gone to sleep the little robber maiden went to the reindeer and said: "I should like very much to tickle your neck a few times more with my knife, for it makes you look so funny, but never mind—I will untie your cord and set you free, so that you may run away to Lapland; but you must make good use of your legs and carry this little maiden to the castle of the Snow Queen, where her playfellow is. You have heard what she told me, for she spoke loud enough, and you were listening."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="b4kbc-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="b4kbc-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="b4kbc-0-0">The reindeer jumped for joy, and the little robber girl lifted Gerda on his back and had the forethought to tie her on and even to give her her own little cushion to sit upon.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="9ku7e-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="9ku7e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="9ku7e-0-0">"Here are your fur boots for you," said she, "for it will be very cold; but I must keep the muff, it is so pretty. However, you shall not be frozen for the want of it; here are my mother's large warm mittens; they will reach up to your elbows. Let me put them on. There, now your hands look just like my mother's."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="9ctpt-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="9ctpt-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="9ctpt-0-0">But Gerda wept for joy.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="8prj1-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="8prj1-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="8prj1-0-0">"I don't like to see you fret," said the little robber girl. "You ought to look quite happy now. And here are two loaves and a ham, so that you need not starve."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="cjoak" data-offset-key="1hn86-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="1hn86-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="1hn86-0-0">These were fastened upon the reindeer, and then the little robber maiden opened the door, coaxed in all the great dogs, cut the string with which the reindeer was fastened, with her sharp knife, and said, "Now run, but mind you take good care of the little girl." And Gerda stretched out her hand, with the great mitten on it, toward the little robber girl and said "Farewell," and away flew the reindeer over stumps and stones, through the great forest, over marshes and plains, as quickly as he could. The wolves howled and the ravens screamed, while up in the sky quivered red lights like flames of fire. "There are my old northern lights," said the reindeer; "see how they flash!" And he ran on day and night still faster and faster, but the loaves and the ham were all eaten by the time they reached Lapland.</span></div></div>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-8810904748278236082023-07-09T15:28:00.002-05:002023-07-09T15:28:07.032-05:00Shards of Glass: Meet the Character: The Witch<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIGV9psfSvlo1wxQ5JP9wbILLZNCFjDB0E8zCGaFq9lV6UafW8Kt1QARwLAI8rG7P6lKvgFkWySYp9utvEtowbJpXGUPkH-JT_ufiQvBfI1cbt7ZQUdgOso4DirqOer6tgu5qlDJu2KkcT_4TV_kwKlzjMAA66E-n1y2cB1jS1y3REgkFKNmH0x2uKSsoh/s3081/IMG_8496.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2587" data-original-width="3081" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIGV9psfSvlo1wxQ5JP9wbILLZNCFjDB0E8zCGaFq9lV6UafW8Kt1QARwLAI8rG7P6lKvgFkWySYp9utvEtowbJpXGUPkH-JT_ufiQvBfI1cbt7ZQUdgOso4DirqOer6tgu5qlDJu2KkcT_4TV_kwKlzjMAA66E-n1y2cB1jS1y3REgkFKNmH0x2uKSsoh/s320/IMG_8496.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">“No phones here, sweetheart. You’re beyond such things now.”</span><p></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">“Come, come, let me brush your hair. We’ll pull all those nasty, painful thoughts right out of your head.”</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">The witch lives in a sod roofed cottage in the woods, not far from the border where Minnesota becomes fairyland. She has an enchanted hairbrush and a beautiful garden. She longs for a child, but her fairy lifespan dooms her to outlive any human child she can find and claim for her own. Her quilt is made from the lives of all the children she’s ever had, and so is her garden.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">See jennyprater.com for more information on Shards of Glass.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><br /><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span></p>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-45906900706394839402023-07-04T12:30:00.001-05:002023-07-04T12:30:00.145-05:00The Snow Queen: Story the Fourth: The Prince and Princess<p>This section is one of my favorites. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Having escaped the enchantress, Gerda comes across a crow.
She asks him if he’s seen Kai, and he says he might have.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The crow describes the princess of this land, and
exceedingly clever young woman who’s read every newspaper ever written. The
princess wished to marry, someone both handsome and clever, and many suitors
came. On the first two days, all the suitors were too star struck to say
anything to impress the princess. But on the third day, a young man came who
was handsome and clever and charming, and he won her heart and her hand. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This, the crow thinks, may be Kai, and Gerda agrees, for he
is handsome and clever, with bright eyes and long hair, poor clothing, and new
boots that creak, and he arrived at the palace carrying something on his back, which
may have been a knapsack, but may also have been a sled, for the crow did not
get a good view.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The crow takes Gerda to the palace, where she is introduced
to his crow girlfriend, who lives inside. They take her up a back stairway to
the princess’ bedroom, where she and the new prince are sleeping, in two
separate beds. Gerda holds up a lamp to the prince, who wakes, and turns, and
is not Kai.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The princess wakes as well, and Gerda and the crows explain
the whole story. The crows are given a position in the court as a reward for
helping Gerda, but warned not to sneak anyone else into the royal bedroom in
the middle of the night. Gerda is given the prince’s bed to sleep in, and the
next morning, a new pair of boots, a muff, and a coach and escort to continue
her search for Kai.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There’s just a lot going on in this section. I love the
story of the prince and princess, and the little detail that she’s read every
newspaper ever written, which I leaned into heavily for my interpretation of
the character. I love the detail of dreams following people through the palace,
and the revelation that Gerda’s grandmother can speak crow. I love that we
acknowledge how lonely Gerda is, how hard this journey is. And I love that this
is the first section where we really see other characters being kind to her,
and helpful. I love her faith in Kai, her confidence that he’s worthy of
marrying a princess, and that he’ll welcome her with open arms, even though he
hasn’t exactly been nice lately. It’s just a good section.<o:p></o:p></p>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-45642856923300361892023-07-04T12:00:00.001-05:002023-07-04T12:00:00.148-05:00FOURTH STORY: THE PRINCE AND PRINCESS<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9lDaTjFkHPJ_2_IkRO1yyU7bZjdBYbsnexHb3YKDoWo5iJUwSCa0wIDVOtmJ6Ityf-HSHXjCn1ixtUcumQnfhOiwAx3vHiy8KuH49j2DaEIYHwpvIrQjB064H4pKLMRwpHIPW5FwH5ShMtzlKjyQnUsM9RXLah05E6FwCJhhkvzwh9WPnbSxbDCw6MA/s1084/IMG_7873.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1084" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9lDaTjFkHPJ_2_IkRO1yyU7bZjdBYbsnexHb3YKDoWo5iJUwSCa0wIDVOtmJ6Ityf-HSHXjCn1ixtUcumQnfhOiwAx3vHiy8KuH49j2DaEIYHwpvIrQjB064H4pKLMRwpHIPW5FwH5ShMtzlKjyQnUsM9RXLah05E6FwCJhhkvzwh9WPnbSxbDCw6MA/s320/IMG_7873.jpg" width="221" /></a></div><p></p><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="emc4i-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="emc4i-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="emc4i-0-0">(Over the next seven weeks, I’ll be posting both the text of the Snow Queen, and my thoughts on it. This is the text of the fourth section. All text comes from the public domain translation of Andersen’s works edited by J. H. Stickney and published in 1886. The illustrations, by Edna Hart, are from this edition as well.)</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="5osgg-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="5osgg-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="5osgg-0-0">Gerda was obliged to rest again, and just opposite the place where she sat she saw a great crow come hopping toward her across the snow. He stood looking at her for some time, and then he wagged his head and said, "Caw, caw, good day, good day." He pronounced the words as plainly as he could, because he meant to be kind to the little girl, and then he asked her where she was going all alone in the wide world.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="dao4k-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="dao4k-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="dao4k-0-0">The word "alone" Gerda understood very well and felt how much it expressed. So she told the crow the whole story of her life and adventures and asked him if he had seen little Kai.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="eo56q-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="eo56q-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="eo56q-0-0">The crow nodded his head very gravely and said, "Perhaps I have—it may be."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="9cejt-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="9cejt-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="9cejt-0-0">"No! Do you really think you have?" cried little Gerda, and she kissed the crow and hugged him almost to death, with joy.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="ebrq9-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="ebrq9-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="ebrq9-0-0">"Gently, gently," said the crow. "I believe I know. I think it may be little Kai; but he has certainly forgotten you by this time, for the princess."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="425jk-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="425jk-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="425jk-0-0">"Does he live with a princess?" asked Gerda.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="80qm6-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="80qm6-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="80qm6-0-0">"Yes, listen," replied the crow; "but it is so difficult to speak your language. If you understand the crows' language, then I can explain it better. Do you?"</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="f555m-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="f555m-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="f555m-0-0">"No, I have never learned it," said Gerda, "but my grandmother understands it, and used to speak it to me. I wish I had learned it."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="dj489-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="dj489-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="dj489-0-0">"It does not matter," answered the crow. "I will explain as well as I can, although it will be very badly done"; and he told her what he had heard.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="3o2ue-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="3o2ue-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="3o2ue-0-0">"In this kingdom where we now are," said he, "there lives a princess who is so wonderfully clever that she has read all the newspapers in the world—and forgotten them too, although she is so clever.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="c2vo6-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="c2vo6-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="c2vo6-0-0">"A short time ago, as she was sitting on her throne, which people say is not such an agreeable seat as is often supposed, she began to sing a song which commences with these words:</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="fi6vq-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="fi6vq-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="fi6vq-0-0">Why should I not be married?</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="92chj-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="92chj-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="92chj-0-0">'Why not, indeed?' said she, and so she determined to marry if she could find a husband who knew what to say when he was spoken to, and not one who could only look grand, for that was so tiresome. She assembled all her court ladies at the beat of the drum, and when they heard of her intentions they were very much pleased.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="4q0nu-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="4q0nu-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="4q0nu-0-0">"'We are so glad to hear of it,' said they. 'We were talking about it ourselves the other day.'</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="d7fl8-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d7fl8-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="d7fl8-0-0">"You may believe that every word I tell you is true," said the crow, "for I have a tame sweetheart who hops freely about the palace, and she told me all this."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="6738b-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="6738b-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="6738b-0-0">Of course his sweetheart was a crow, for "birds of a feather flock together," and one crow always chooses another crow.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="9aapq-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="9aapq-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="9aapq-0-0">"Newspapers were published immediately with a border of hearts and the initials of the princess among them. They gave notice that every young man who was handsome was free to visit the castle and speak with the princess, and those who could reply loud enough to be heard when spoken to were to make themselves quite at home at the palace, and the one who spoke best would be chosen as a husband for the princess.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="46lof-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="46lof-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="46lof-0-0">"Yes, yes, you may believe me. It is all as true as I sit here," said the crow.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="c7a7o-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="c7a7o-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="c7a7o-0-0">"The people came in crowds. There was a great deal of crushing and running about, but no one succeeded either on the first or the second day. They could all speak very well while they were outside in the streets, but when they entered the palace gates and saw the guards in silver uniforms and the footmen in their golden livery on the staircase and the great halls lighted up, they became quite confused. And when they stood before the throne on which the princess sat they could do nothing but repeat the last words she had said, and she had no particular wish to hear her own words over again. It was just as if they had all taken something to make them sleepy while they were in the palace, for they did not recover themselves nor speak till they got back again into the street. There was a long procession of them, reaching from the town gate to the palace.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="as668-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="as668-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="as668-0-0">"I went myself to see them," said the crow. "They were hungry and thirsty, for at the palace they did not even get a glass of water. Some of the wisest had taken a few slices of bread and butter with them, but they did not share it with their neighbors; they thought if the others went in to the princess looking hungry, there would be a better chance for themselves."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="arnv7-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="arnv7-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="arnv7-0-0">"But Kai! tell me about little Kai!" said Gerda. "Was he among the crowd?"</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="e9jo9-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="e9jo9-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="e9jo9-0-0">"Stop a bit; we are just coming to him. It was on the third day that there came marching cheerfully along to the palace a little personage without horses or carriage, his eyes sparkling like yours. He had beautiful long hair, but his clothes were very poor."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="3ct8i-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="3ct8i-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="3ct8i-0-0">"That was Kai," said Gerda, joyfully. "Oh, then I have found him!" and she clapped her hands.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="2vgfn-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="2vgfn-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="2vgfn-0-0">"He had a little knapsack on his back," added the crow.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="fcbpv-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="fcbpv-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="fcbpv-0-0">"No, it must have been his sledge," said Gerda, "for he went away with it."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="7hc9b-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="7hc9b-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="7hc9b-0-0">"It may have been so," said the crow; "I did not look at it very closely. But I know from my tame sweetheart that he passed through the palace gates, saw the guards in their silver uniform and the servants in their liveries of gold on the stairs, but was not in the least embarrassed.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="9th0s-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="9th0s-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="9th0s-0-0">"'It must be very tiresome to stand on the stairs,' he said. 'I prefer to go in.'</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="dgako-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="dgako-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="dgako-0-0">"The rooms were blazing with light; councilors and ambassadors walked about with bare feet, carrying golden vessels; it was enough to make any one feel serious. His boots creaked loudly as he walked, and yet he was not at all uneasy."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="140n0-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="140n0-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="140n0-0-0">"It must be Kai," said Gerda; "I know he had new boots on. I heard them creak in grandmother's room."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="49ujb-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="49ujb-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="49ujb-0-0">"They really did creak," said the crow, "yet he went boldly up to the princess herself, who was sitting on a pearl as large as a spinning wheel. And all the ladies of the court were present with their maids and all the cavaliers with their servants, and each of the maids had another maid to wait upon her, and the cavaliers' servants had their own servants as well as each a page. They all stood in circles round the princess, and the nearer they stood to the door the prouder they looked. The servants' pages, who always wore slippers, could hardly be looked at, they held themselves up so proudly by the door."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="1v6la-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="1v6la-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="1v6la-0-0">"It must be quite awful," said little Gerda; "but did Kai win the princess?"</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="bjs6b-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="bjs6b-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="bjs6b-0-0">"If I had not been a crow," said he, "I would have married her myself, although I am engaged. He spoke as well as I do when I speak the crows' language. I heard this from my tame sweetheart. He was quite free and agreeable and said he had not come to woo the princess, but to hear her wisdom. And he was as pleased with her as she was with him."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="7ekgl-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="7ekgl-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="7ekgl-0-0">"Oh, certainly that was Kai," said Gerda; "he was so clever; he could work mental arithmetic and fractions. Oh, will you take me to the palace?"</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="77uph-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="77uph-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="77uph-0-0">"It is very easy to ask that," replied the crow, "but how are we to manage it? However, I will speak about it to my tame sweetheart and ask her advice, for, I must tell you, it will be very difficult to gain permission for a little girl like you to enter the palace."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="92gob-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="92gob-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="92gob-0-0">"Oh, yes, but I shall gain permission easily," said Gerda, "for when Kai hears that I am here he will come out and fetch me in immediately."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="17hq5-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="17hq5-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="17hq5-0-0">"Wait for me here by the palings," said the crow, wagging his head as he flew away.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="5h157-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="5h157-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="5h157-0-0">It was late in the evening before the crow returned. "Caw, caw!" he said; "she sends you greeting, and here is a little roll which she took from the kitchen for you. There is plenty of bread there, and she thinks you must be hungry. It is not possible for you to enter the palace by the front entrance. The guards in silver uniform and the servants in gold livery would not allow it. But do not cry; we will manage to get you in. My sweetheart knows a little back staircase that leads to the sleeping apartments, and she knows where to find the key."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="9udod-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="9udod-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="9udod-0-0">Then they went into the garden, through the great avenue, where the leaves were falling one after another, and they could see the lights in the palace being put out in the same manner. And the crow led little Gerda to a back door which stood ajar. Oh! how her heart beat with anxiety and longing; it was as if she were going to do something wrong, and yet she only wanted to know where little Kai was.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="8qpvi-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="8qpvi-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="8qpvi-0-0">"It must be he," she thought, "with those clear eyes and that long hair."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="761dk-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="761dk-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="761dk-0-0">She could fancy she saw him smiling at her as he used to at home when they sat among the roses. He would certainly be glad to see her, and to hear what a long distance she had come for his sake, and to know how sorry they had all been at home because he did not come back. Oh, what joy and yet what fear she felt!</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="8l0mt-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="8l0mt-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="8l0mt-0-0">They were now on the stairs, and in a small closet at the top a lamp was burning. In the middle of the floor stood the tame crow, turning her head from side to side and gazing at Gerda, who curtsied as her grandmother had taught her to do.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="891jg-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="891jg-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="891jg-0-0">"My betrothed has spoken so very highly of you, my little lady," said the tame crow. "Your story is very touching. If you will take the lamp, I will walk before you. We will go straight along this way; then we shall meet no one."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="bpltp-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="bpltp-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="bpltp-0-0">"I feel as if somebody were behind us," said Gerda, as something rushed by her like a shadow on the wall; and then it seemed to her that horses with flying manes and thin legs, hunters, ladies and gentlemen on horseback, glided by her like shadows.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="boh3j-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="boh3j-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="boh3j-0-0">"They are only dreams," said the crow; "they are coming to carry the thoughts of the great people out hunting. All the better, for if their thoughts are out hunting, we shall be able to look at them in their beds more safely. I hope that when you rise to honor and favor you will show a grateful heart."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="8p5bj-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="8p5bj-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="8p5bj-0-0">"You may be quite sure of that," said the crow from the forest.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="cghfv-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="cghfv-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="cghfv-0-0">They now came into the first hall, the walls of which were hung with rose-colored satin embroidered with artificial flowers. Here the dreams again flitted by them, but so quickly that Gerda could not distinguish the royal persons. Each hall appeared more splendid than the last. It was enough to bewilder one. At length they reached a bedroom. The ceiling was like a great palm tree, with glass leaves of the most costly crystal, and over the center of the floor two beds, each resembling a lily, hung from a stem of gold. One, in which the princess lay, was white; the other was red. And in this Gerda had to seek for little Kai.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="d5ib3-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d5ib3-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="d5ib3-0-0">She pushed one of the red leaves aside and saw a little brown neck. Oh, that must be Kai! She called his name loudly and held the lamp over him. The dreams rushed back into the room on horseback. He woke and turned his head round—it was not little Kai! The prince was only like him; still he was young and pretty. Out of her white-lily bed peeped the princess, and asked what was the matter. Little Gerda wept and told her story, and all that the crows had done to help her.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="1inrs-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="1inrs-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="1inrs-0-0">"You poor child," said the prince and princess; then they praised the crows, and said they were not angry with them for what they had done, but that it must not happen again, and that this time they should be rewarded.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="bphec-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="bphec-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="bphec-0-0">"Would you like to have your freedom?" asked the princess, "or would you prefer to be raised to the position of court crows, with all that is left in the kitchen for yourselves?"</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="ddhs2-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="ddhs2-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="ddhs2-0-0">Then both the crows bowed and begged to have a fixed appointment; for they thought of their old age, and it would be so comfortable, they said, to feel that they had made provision for it.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="3liki-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="3liki-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="3liki-0-0">And then the prince got out of his bed and gave it up to Gerda—he could not do more—and she lay down. She folded her little hands and thought, "How good everybody is to me, both men and animals"; then she closed her eyes and fell into a sweet sleep. All the dreams came flying back again to her, looking like angels now, and one of them drew a little sledge, on which sat Kai, who nodded to her. But all this was only a dream. It vanished as soon as she awoke.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="bpbhe-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="bpbhe-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="bpbhe-0-0">The following day she was dressed from head to foot in silk and velvet and invited to stay at the palace for a few days and enjoy herself; but she only begged for a pair of boots and a little carriage and a horse to draw it, so that she might go out into the wide world to seek for Kai.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="emrus-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="emrus-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="emrus-0-0">And she obtained not only boots but a muff, and was neatly dressed; and when she was ready to go, there at the door she found a coach made of pure gold with the coat of arms of the prince and princess shining upon it like a star, and the coachman, footman, and outriders all wearing golden crowns upon their heads. The prince and princess themselves helped her into the coach and wished her success.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="f5kf1-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="f5kf1-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="f5kf1-0-0">The forest crow, who was now married, accompanied her for the first three miles; he sat by Gerda's side, as he could not bear riding backwards. The tame crow stood in the doorway flapping her wings. She could not go with them, because she had been suffering from headache ever since the new appointment, no doubt from overeating. The coach was well stored with sweet cakes, and under the seat were fruit and gingerbread nuts.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="179c4" data-offset-key="53pma-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="53pma-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="53pma-0-0">"Farewell, farewell," cried the prince and princess, and little Gerda wept, and the crow wept; and then, after a few miles, the crow also said farewell, and this parting was even more sad. However he flew to a tree and stood flapping his black wings as long as he could see the coach, which glittered like a sunbeam.</span></div></div></div><p><br /></p>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-36014680355424044372023-07-02T11:32:00.003-05:002023-07-02T11:32:30.503-05:00Shards of Glass: Meet the Characters: The Crow<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDotGbOfR6HjY15rjSbT_Bv8F97dLgCziUzYqJJWUMHeq1VqlPYd-gHgOnrNeRPBoyFar5ynR7MZHmvctP0LZHN3wry04OjpTE62Lj37dPjyvmlBR5W7uexc_D3d_BpYGX_ekU3sBMuM9Tie-2QP_HiV1n86nNeQMmuYss-vJ5igdhwMRlq7fQLswbcRZ5/s1200/IMG_8315.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1185" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDotGbOfR6HjY15rjSbT_Bv8F97dLgCziUzYqJJWUMHeq1VqlPYd-gHgOnrNeRPBoyFar5ynR7MZHmvctP0LZHN3wry04OjpTE62Lj37dPjyvmlBR5W7uexc_D3d_BpYGX_ekU3sBMuM9Tie-2QP_HiV1n86nNeQMmuYss-vJ5igdhwMRlq7fQLswbcRZ5/s320/IMG_8315.jpeg" width="316" /></a></div><p></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">“I don’t mean to insult you, of course. I am sure that in many matters of concern to yourself, you are quite wise. But you are only human, and have not likely taken steps to resolve your ignorance in matters of ravenly beauty.”</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">“It doesn’t do to waste meat, but that doesn’t mean I want anyone dead.”</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">The crow lives in the forest not far from the newspaper palace, and he’s dating another crow who lives at the palace. He thinks he knows more than he does, but he knows enough to aid Gerda in her quest.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">See jennyprater.com for more information on Shards of Glass.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><br /><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span></p>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-73826222348124909452023-06-27T12:30:00.002-05:002023-06-27T12:30:00.135-05:00The Snow Queen: Story the Third: The Enchanted Flower Garden<p>In part three we learn that everyone has given Kai up for
dead since he rode off with the Snow Queen. Gerda, mourning her lost friend,
shares her sorrows with the sun, with the sparrows. But they don’t believe her.
They don’t think Kai is dead, and Gerda starts to have doubts, too.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Months have passed by now, and spring has come. Since
everyone thinks that Kai’s drowned, Gerda goes to the river to ask for him
back, offering her new red shoes in exchange. The waves keep bringing the shoes
back to her, so she decides she needs to get farther into the water to drop
them in.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Conveniently, someone’s left a boat on the shore, but Gerda
doesn’t really know how to operate a boat, and once she’s deposited the shoes
in the river, she can’t get back to shore. She continues downstream for quite
some time, until a woman with a flowered hat fishes her out.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This woman is an enchantress, and wants to keep Gerda as her
own child. She steals her memories, and hides all her rosebushes under the
ground, so they won’t remind Gerda of home, and the rosebush she shared with
Kai.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">(This is one point where my story deviates significantly
from the source material—I wanted my Gerda to set off in search of Kai
immediately, rather than waiting until spring, so she spends a winter with the
enchantress instead of a summer.)</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Gerda stays with the enchantress for several months, through
the spring and summer, and into the fall. She doesn’t remember Kai. She knows
something is missing from the garden, but she doesn’t know what. At last, she
spots the one rose the enchantress has forgotten to hide—the one painted on her
hat—and all of her memories have returned.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She weeps for Kai, and her tears bring forth the roses the
enchantress sent under the ground. They assure her that Kai isn't dead—if he
was dead and buried, they would have seen him underground. Which doesn’t
totally make since, as he’s supposed to have drowned, but whatever.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The flowers don’t know anything else about Kai.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Realizing that she’s lost months of time to the enchantress,
and it’s now autumn, Gerda, now barefoot, sets off again in search of Kai.<o:p></o:p></p>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620773338408962152.post-42728232904171097812023-06-27T12:00:00.001-05:002023-06-27T12:00:00.141-05:00THIRD STORY: THE ENCHANTED FLOWER GARDEN<p> *edit: I have realized that this translation has excluded the section where the flowers tell their stories; I will post their piece later.*</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX5Rl-LnxwETdDBG6HT16_1K-d_Xd30CZToGisuKZ-8B7oAI-vlwxUbMEYEOT6v7vc2d2K7LPEkif0t7H5UN9I5wYwZX2CZtaFxX7oR3ZeN6R-VlGQ9XT_FP9rWFkQ-FpQ6sPBJartKgIQ9y10vAicnTR7d971otILxNqhshyxDMJ01hD_8WUimtZs5w/s1148/IMG_7872.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1148" data-original-width="749" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX5Rl-LnxwETdDBG6HT16_1K-d_Xd30CZToGisuKZ-8B7oAI-vlwxUbMEYEOT6v7vc2d2K7LPEkif0t7H5UN9I5wYwZX2CZtaFxX7oR3ZeN6R-VlGQ9XT_FP9rWFkQ-FpQ6sPBJartKgIQ9y10vAicnTR7d971otILxNqhshyxDMJ01hD_8WUimtZs5w/s320/IMG_7872.jpg" width="209" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: initial; white-space-collapse: preserve;">(Over the next seven weeks, I’ll be posting both the text of the Snow Queen, and my thoughts on it. This is the text of the third section. All text comes from the public domain translation of Andersen’s works edited by J. H. Stickney and published in 1886. The illustrations, by Edna Hart, are from this edition as well.)</span></p><div class="sc-mphiss-0 hEOSQk" style="background-color: white; border-top: 1px solid var(--global-border-muted-default); color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 0 var(--global-space-16); padding: var(--global-space-24) var(--global-space-8);"><div class="sc-fotOHu gAirhe" overflow="auto" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0rem 0rem 0rem -5rem; overflow: auto; padding: 0rem 0rem 0rem 4.5rem; transition: all 300ms cubic-bezier(0.19, 1, 0.22, 1) 0s;"><div class="sc-1taw4oi-0 cBAXth" style="cursor: text; padding-left: 0.7rem; position: relative;"><div style="min-height: 150px;"><div class="DraftEditor-root" style="height: inherit; position: relative; text-align: initial;"><div class="DraftEditor-editorContainer" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); border-left: 0.1px solid transparent; height: inherit; position: relative; text-align: initial;"><div class="notranslate public-DraftEditor-content" contenteditable="true" role="textbox" spellcheck="true" style="-webkit-user-modify: read-write-plaintext-only; height: inherit; outline: none; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: initial; user-select: text; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div data-contents="true"><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="3m7va-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="3m7va-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="3m7va-0-0">But how fared little Gerda in Kai's absence?</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="chqnv-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="chqnv-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="chqnv-0-0">What had become of him no one knew, nor could any one give the slightest information, excepting the boys, who said that he had tied his sledge to another very large one, which had driven through the street and out at the town gate. No one knew where it went. Many tears were shed for him, and little Gerda wept bitterly for a long time. She said she knew he must be dead, that he was drowned in the river which flowed close by the school. The long winter days were very dreary. But at last spring came with warm sunshine.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="2qokd-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="2qokd-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="2qokd-0-0">"Kai is dead and gone," said little Gerda.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="4k1on-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="4k1on-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="4k1on-0-0">"I don't believe it," said the sunshine.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="df5bd-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="df5bd-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="df5bd-0-0">"He is dead and gone," she said to the sparrows.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="9venq-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="9venq-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="9venq-0-0">"We don't believe it," they replied, and at last little Gerda began to doubt it herself.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="818pj-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="818pj-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="818pj-0-0">"I will put on my new red shoes," she said one morning, "those that Kay has never seen, and then I will go down to the river and ask for him."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="nhv0-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="nhv0-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="nhv0-0-0">It was quite early when she kissed her old grandmother, who was still asleep; then she put on her red shoes and went, quite alone, out of the town gate, toward the river.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="e8lge-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="e8lge-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="e8lge-0-0">"Is it true that you have taken my little playmate away from me?" she said to the river. "I will give you my red shoes if you will give him back to me."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="24ml7-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="24ml7-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="24ml7-0-0">And it seemed as if the waves nodded to her in a strange manner. Then she took off her red shoes, which she liked better than anything else, and threw them both into the river, but they fell near the bank, and the little waves carried them back to land just as if the river would not take from her what she loved best, because it could not give her back little Kai.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="dvmta-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="dvmta-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="dvmta-0-0">But she thought the shoes had not been thrown out far enough. Then she crept into a boat that lay among the reeds, and threw the shoes again from the farther end of the boat into the water; but it was not fastened, and her movement sent it gliding away from the land. When she saw this she hastened to reach the end of the boat, but before she could do so it was more than a yard from the bank and drifting away faster than ever.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="6qoqf-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="6qoqf-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="6qoqf-0-0">Little Gerda was very much frightened. She began to cry, but no one heard her except the sparrows, and they could not carry her to land, but they flew along by the shore and sang as if to comfort her: "Here we are! Here we are!"</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="c950s-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="c950s-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="c950s-0-0">The boat floated with the stream, and little Gerda sat quite still with only her stockings on her feet; the red shoes floated after her, but she could not reach them because the boat kept so much in advance.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="606sp-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="606sp-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="606sp-0-0">The banks on either side of the river were very pretty. There were beautiful flowers, old trees, sloping fields in which cows and sheep were grazing, but not a human being to be seen.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="bdjii-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="bdjii-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="bdjii-0-0">"Perhaps the river will carry me to little Kai," thought Gerda, and then she became more cheerful, and raised her head and looked at the beautiful green banks; and so the boat sailed on for hours. At length she came to a large cherry orchard, in which stood a small house with strange red and blue windows. It had also a thatched roof, and outside were two wooden soldiers that presented arms to her as she sailed past. Gerda called out to them, for she thought they were alive; but of course they did not answer, and as the boat drifted nearer to the shore she saw what they really were.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="47f2d-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="47f2d-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="47f2d-0-0">Then Gerda called still louder, and there came a very old woman out of the house, leaning on a crutch. She wore a large hat to shade her from the sun, and on it were painted all sorts of pretty flowers.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="6lefd-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="6lefd-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="6lefd-0-0">"You poor little child," said the old woman, "how did you manage to come this long, long distance into the wide world on such a rapid, rolling stream?" And then the old woman walked into the water, seized the boat with her crutch, drew it to land, and lifted little Gerda out. And Gerda was glad to feel herself again on dry ground, although she was rather afraid of the strange old woman.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="bm0if-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="bm0if-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="bm0if-0-0">"Come and tell me who you are," said she, "and how you came here."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="dh5oa-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="dh5oa-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="dh5oa-0-0">Then Gerda told her everything, while the old woman shook her head and said, "Hem-hem"; and when Gerda had finished she asked the old woman if she had not seen little Kai. She told her he had not passed that way, but he very likely would come. She told Gerda not to be sorrowful, but to taste the cherries and look at the flowers; they were better than any picture book, for each of them could tell a story. Then she took Gerda by the hand, and led her into the little house, and closed the door. The windows were very high, and as the panes were red, blue, and yellow, the daylight shone through them in all sorts of singular colors. On the table stood some beautiful cherries, and Gerda had permission to eat as many as she would. While she was eating them the old woman combed out her long flaxen ringlets with a golden comb, and the glossy curls hung down on each side of the little round, pleasant face, which looked fresh and blooming as a rose.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="5e0us-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="5e0us-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="5e0us-0-0">"I have long been wishing for a dear little maiden like you," said the old woman, "and now you must stay with me and see how happily we shall live together." And while she went on combing little Gerda's hair the child thought less and less about her adopted brother Kai, for the old woman was an enchantress, although she was not a wicked witch; she conjured only a little for her own amusement, and, now, because she wanted to keep Gerda. Therefore she went into the garden and stretched out her crutch toward all the rose trees, beautiful though they were, and they immediately sank into the dark earth, so that no one could tell where they had once stood. The old woman was afraid that if little Gerda saw roses, she would think of those at home and then remember little Kai and run away.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="2gplb-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="2gplb-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="2gplb-0-0">Then she took Gerda into the flower garden. How fragrant and beautiful it was! Every flower that could be thought of, for every season of the year, was here in full bloom; no picture book could have more beautiful colors. Gerda jumped for joy, and played till the sun went down behind the tall cherry trees; then she slept in an elegant bed, with red silk pillows embroidered with colored violets, and she dreamed as pleasantly as a queen on her wedding day.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="6shr8-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="6shr8-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="6shr8-0-0">The next day, and for many days after, Gerda played with the flowers in the warm sunshine. She knew every flower, and yet, although there were so many of them, it seemed as if one were missing, but what it was she could not tell. One day, however, as she sat looking at the old woman's hat with the painted flowers on it, she saw that the prettiest of them all was a rose. The old woman had forgotten to take it from her hat when she made all the roses sink into the earth. But it is difficult to keep the thoughts together in everything, and one little mistake upsets all our arrangements.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="9ime-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="9ime-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="9ime-0-0">"What! are there no roses here?" cried Gerda, and she ran out into the garden and examined all the beds, and searched and searched. There was not one to be found. Then she sat down and wept, and her tears fell just on the place where one of the rose trees had sunk down. The warm tears moistened the earth, and the rose tree sprouted up at once, as blooming as when it had sunk; and Gerda embraced it, and kissed the roses, and thought of the beautiful roses at home, and, with them, of little Kai.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="50n1s-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="50n1s-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="50n1s-0-0">"Oh, how I have been detained!" said the little maiden. "I wanted to seek for little Kay. Do you know where he is?" she asked the roses; "do you think he is dead?"</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="9trjl-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="9trjl-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="9trjl-0-0">And the roses answered: "No, he is not dead. We have been in the ground, where all the dead lie, but Kai is not there."</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="71gg5-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="71gg5-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="71gg5-0-0">"Thank you," said little Gerda, and then she went to the other flowers and looked into their little cups and asked, "Do you know where little Kai is?" But each flower as it stood in the sunshine dreamed only of its own little fairy tale or history. Not one knew anything of Kai. Gerda heard many stories from the flowers, as she asked them one after another about him.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="61j3p-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="61j3p-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="61j3p-0-0">And then she ran to the other end of the garden. The door was fastened, but she pressed against the rusty latch, and it gave way. The door sprang open, and little Gerda ran out with bare feet into the wide world. She looked back three times, but no one seemed to be following her. At last she could run no longer, so she sat down to rest on a great stone, and when she looked around she saw that the summer was over and autumn very far advanced. She had known nothing of this in the beautiful garden where the sun shone and the flowers grew all the year round.</span></div></div><div class="DraftEditor-paragraphElement" data-block="true" data-editor="143r1" data-offset-key="fb2fh-0-0" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="fb2fh-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="fb2fh-0-0">"Oh, how I have wasted my time!" said little Gerda. "It is autumn; I must not rest any longer," and she rose to go on. But her little feet were wounded and sore, and everything around her looked cold and bleak. The long willow leaves were quite yellow, the dewdrops fell like water, leaf after leaf dropped from the trees; the sloe thorn alone still bore fruit, but the sloes were sour and set the teeth on edge. Oh, how dark and weary the whole world appeared!</span></div><div><span data-offset-key="fb2fh-0-0"><br /></span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><div class="sc-mphiss-0 hEOSQk" style="background-color: white; border-top: 1px solid var(--global-border-muted-default); color: rgba(11, 12, 15, 0.95); font-family: system-ui, Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 0 var(--global-space-16); padding: var(--global-space-24) var(--global-space-8);"><div class="sc-jxy4pe-0 gAerqB"><div class="sc-jxy4pe-2 jthZuC" style="display: flex; flex-direction: column;"><div class="sc-jxy4pe-3 iHogEf" style="-webkit-box-pack: justify; display: flex; justify-content: space-between;"><div class="sc-jxy4pe-1 fCKSHR" style="-webkit-box-pack: center; display: flex; flex-wrap: nowrap; place-content: flex-start center;"></div></div></div></div></div>Halfway to Fairylandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10024663590984664891noreply@blogger.com0