Frog Princesses and Bear Princes

 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.

Both stories feature frog love interests. And that’s pretty much it?

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.

(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.)

So. The enchanted bridegroom story I really want to compare with The Frog Princess is East of the Sun and West of the Moon.

Specifically, we’re working with the Russian variant of The Frog Princess, which has a second half.

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.

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.

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.

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.

In his defense, burning the skin is more often than not the correct move when dealing with enchanted love interests.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

The Giant with No Heart in His Body

 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.

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.

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.

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.

(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.)

(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.)

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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=????

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?

I have so many questions about this whole situation.

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.

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.

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.

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.

He catches the duck. The duck drops the egg. (Does that mean it’s already been laid?) The salmon fetches the egg.

And this is when the whole thing falls apart.

“Squeeze the egg,” says the wolf.

Boots does.

The giant screams and cries and begs.

“Make him fix your brothers and their girlfriends,” the wolf says.

The giant does.

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?

“Squeeze the egg in two,” the wolf says.

Boots does. The giant bursts.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

I just. I have so many questions about the princess. And none of them will ever be answered. And that sucks.

Feel free to share any speculations you might have about our assorted unanswered questions!

The Blue Belt Part II

 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.

Now, I must break to you a terrible piece of news.

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.

Having dealt with things at home, our dude decides he should probably track down his wife.

(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?)

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?

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.

His response to this turn of events is “Now we have done wrong; this can cost us all our lives.”

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.

If only he had a small army of tame lions to help him fight the chicken.

(Seriously, where are they? I will never be over this.)

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.

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.

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?

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.

Awkward, since she’s already married.

(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.)

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.

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.

A maid laughs. The bear responds by ripping her to shreds.

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.

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.”

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.

In the middle of the night, the king comes and carries off the bear.

Carries him?

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.

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.

This is where the princess is being kept.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

He kicks down the door, is reunited with his wife, and lives happily ever after.

This story is just. It’s just. So much.

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?

Where did our lions go?

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.

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.

The Blue Belt Part I

 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).

The Blue Belt is Norwegian, from Asbjørnsen and Moe. It’s basically 24 pages of absolute chaos, and I love every second of it.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.”

If so, you are wrong.

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.

Instead, she just hangs out in the troll house, while the troll invites the boy to work in the quarry with him.

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.

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.

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.

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.)

Boy returns home with eleven lions and one drop of lion milk.

Troll refuses to believe boy did the milking. Boy sets lions on troll, but calls them off before he gets hurt too bad.

Time for murder plot number 3!

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.

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?

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.

He falls asleep. The lions guard him. The trolls come.

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.

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.)

Eventually, the princess decides she better go home and visit her parents.

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.

Mom asks him about his super strength, and he shows her the belt. Which she then rips off of his waist.

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.

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.

And then comes my favorite part, a beautiful moment for which, alas, I have never seen an illustration.

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.

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.

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.

He blinds the troll and puts him out to sea, which I am a lot more on board with.

And this story still has eight pages left!

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!

Shards of Glass: Meet the Characters: The Reindeer

 

“I am a magical creature, and here in my home I can feed on the cold, though in the city I must eat like you and everyone.”

“I’m sorry - I’m not a brave beast.”

The reindeer has been living in a walk-in closet for a long time. It’s not an ideal living situation, but it would be worse if the closet’s owners learned he could talk. He trusts Gerda with his story, and he’s happy to take her to the Snow Queen’s palace in exchange for his freedom, as long as he doesn’t have to face the Snow Queen himself.

See jennyprater.com for more information on Shards of Glass.

Prince, Bear, Brother?

 So there’s a particular detail of “East of the Sun, West of the Moon” that’s always stood out to me, but I’ve never seen anyone address it before. This is the line in question, from right after our girl first sees the prince:

So the evil troll who enchanted him. Is also his evil stepmother? Which. Just. It raises so many questions. Especially as the next few lines go on to clarify that the princess in question is his stepmother’s daughter. Meaning she’s his stepsister.

(Also. Gotta love the fact that he takes the time in the middle of this little panic attack to mention just how long his bride-to-be's nose is. BTW, an ell seems to vary in length from 18 inches to 50+ inches depending on time and location. Anyway, three of them is longer than any nose should be.)

Why did this prince’s father marry a troll? And, if he married the troll, why would she need his son to marry her daughter? She’s already the queen, right?

I guess we can probably assume the prince’s father/the troll queen’s husband is dead by now. I mean, if he’s not, I have some serious doubts about his parenting. Good dads do not let their new wives turn their children into bears—that’s just irresponsible.

So we’ve got a dead king and an enchanted prince. Which would presumably leave the troll queen and her daughter in control of the kingdom. Except they don’t seem to be in that kingdom? They’re hanging out in the land east of the sun west of the moon, which seems to be a troll land, and therefore not the kingdom that the dead king and the enchanted prince are from.

Unless maybe they’re only the king (prince consort?) and prince by virtue of having married into a troll royal family?

But none of this really explains why the troll stepmother wants her stepson to marry her daughter.  It could be to maintain her hold on the kingdom he’d inherit, assuming he has a kingdom of his own. Except she’s not currently even living in that kingdom. And she already turned the dude into a bear, which you’d think would leave her in charge by default, as the regent or something? Unless he has a brother or uncle or someone who would be next in line.

I’m rambling. The point is, I don’t really understand why this troll lady turned her stepson into a bear, or why she wants him to marry his stepsister.

Which. That’s another thing. How old were these two when their parents got married? What kind of relationship do they have? Does this troll girl even want to marry her brother-ish person? Did these kids grow up together? Exactly how weird is this situation?

I have no conclusions today. I only have questions. I’m just kind of surprised that in all of the retellings, essays, blog posts, etc. I’ve read about this story over the past 20-ish years, no one has addressed this potential relationship. I guess I will someday—an “East of the Sun, West of the Moon” retelling is way, way down somewhere on my project list. (If you’re wondering how long it’s been on my to-do list for, it seemed reasonable to name my main character “Siri” when I started.) In the meantime, if you can think of anything that touches on this element, let me know.

White Bears

So the other day I was flipping through my Kay Nielsen-illustrated “East of the Sun and West of the Moon” collection with my mom, because she’d never seen the illustrations before, and they’re some of my favorites. And we weren’t actually reading the stories this time; we were just there to look at pretty pictures. 

The book starts with the titular “East of the Sun, West of the Moon,” and therefore some illustrations of white bears. And then we keep going through a few more pages, and suddenly there’s another illustration of a white bear, and at this point I’m thinking “oh, right, ‘White Bear King Valemon.’ Huh. It’s kinda strange that there would be two Norwegian enchanted bridegroom stories where the bridegroom is specifically a white bear.”

And then I flip to the next page, and, granted, at this time I haven’t read “White Bear King Valemon” in a few years, but the next illustration was not at all consistent with what I remembered. So I went back a few pages to discover that this set of white bear illustrations was actually for “The Blue Belt,” and this collection didn’t even include “White Bear King Valemon.”

So let’s talk today about the enchanted bridegroom subset “white bears in Norway.”

Now, the reason I'd forgotten about the white bear bit of "The Blue Belt" is that it's largely inconsequential, just another crazy element in a story packed with crazy. The main character is never actually turned into a bear, but does convincingly disguise himself as one to meet the princess he loves in secret, allowing him to collect insider information to win her hand. The main thing about this story is that, as irrelevant as his white bear disguise is to the plot as a whole, it has resulted in a couple of fantastic illustrations that can easily be used for bear-based enchanted bridegroom stories. But primarily we're here to talk about "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" and "White Bear King Valemon," which are very similar but also completely distinct stories. You can read all about "East-West" here, and this post will be mainly running through how "King Valemon" is different and why we care.

So first off, this is another of those stories where youngest kid is best kid and therefore wins, and specifically the kind of story where it's not something you really want to win - in this case, the right to be kidnapped by a polar bear. All three sisters are princesses, and the bear deemed the older two unworthy to be kidnapped, possibly because they had brains in their heads, which our girl does not seem to.

Bear whisks girl away to palace, joins her in bed at night in human form. And, okay. Remember how in "East of the Sun, West of the Moon," the girl and the enchanted bear have to share a bed for a year, and we really don't know exactly what all they're doing in that bed?

In "White Bear King Valemon," we know exactly what they're doing, and it's exactly what you think. She lives with the bear for three years, and in that time she has three babies. All of whom the bear whisks away immediately. Which, dude, yikes.

I mean, ambiguous bed-sharing with a stranger for one year is already a little, um...well. But getting knocked up by a stranger? Three times? And having all the babies kidnapped by the same white bear who kidnapped you? Who you may or may not have gathered by now is also the stranger who knocked you up? (My money's on not gathering that, because our girl doesn't strike me as the brightest, so far.) Again, yikes. I'm just, like, I'm at a loss for words. "Yikes" is all I've got, guys.

Why does she keep having sex with this man? Does she have a choice? Is this consensual? Why isn't she questioning this man about what on earth is going on here? Why is she not having an enormous fight with the bear and demanding her children back? Why is she allowing herself to become pregnant again when she knows that the baby is going to be taken away by the bear? What does she even think the bear is doing with the babies? 

There comes a time when you just have to say, okay, either the sex stops or we explore period-appropriate alternatives to birth control, because I refuse to bring another child into this world to be eaten by a bear.

After three years and three stolen babies, the girl convinces the bear to let her visit home. Where her mom does the whole "You're doing what? With who? You haven't even seen his face?" bit, only she's even more justified in her concern than the East-West mom, because her daughter is reproducing​ with this man and then allowing her grandbabies to be taken away and possibly eaten by a talking bear​. Like, yes, mom, you tell her; she should absolutely be gathering more information about this situation. There is a time and a place to go with the flow, and that is not​ here and now, sweetheart.

So she goes back with the white bear and lights her little candle, and he wakes up when the tallow drips on him and acts like this is some great betrayal, and not the sensible thing she should have done two and a half years ago when she realized she was pregnant the first time.

He is, like in East-West, just one month from the curse being broken, and I would like to just take a moment to say that is not fair, the troll who cursed him is not playing by the rules, everyone knows the time frame in situations like this is a year and a day, what is this slightly over three years crap?

Bear switches from hot guy back to bear and runs off to where he's supposed to meet the troll or whatever, idk - the girl grabs his fur and tries to go with him, but falls off in the forest somewhere.

She does her best to catch up with him on foot, and on the way she meets three little girls, living with three old women, and each of these girls gives her a gift; these gifts are what she will trade to the troll for three nights with the white bear - well, with King Valemon, now that his bear-curse is over. He's drugged on the first two nights, and they can finally talk on the third, just like in East-West. But instead of Fun With Laundry, in this story they make a trap door for the troll to fall through when she's walking down the aisle. Which. Lame.

With the troll handled, King Valemon takes our girl home, but on the way we stop to collect the three little girls who helped her. Because those are their kids, who he, get this, "had taken so they could aid in her quest." The quest that didn't exist yet at the time, because he hadn't been taken by the troll yet, and had no reason yet to suspect that she would look at his face - I mean, the girl was having babies with him and not bothering about the face, so I would have considered it a safe bet that she would continue not bothering, and taking the babies was definitely overkill.

Also, like. She lived with him for three years and had three babies. After three years, she visits her parents, and then she looks at him with the candle; this all seems to happen pretty quickly. Which means the oldest girl might, maybe, possibly be as old as three, but probably she's younger. We should have an age range of infant to toddler here. And yet all three are described as little girls, not babies, and all three seem able to effectively communicate. So that's a bit of a plot hole. Gotta love timeline inconsistency. 

In conclusion: "East of the Sun, West of the Moon"? Beautiful, meaningful story, perfect, magnificent, 25 out of ten. "White Bear King Valemon?" Garbage story full of garbage characters who make garbage decisions, not worth the paper it's printed on, only redeeming feature is mom not putting up with her daughter's absolute idiocy.

Lindworm Promo Series Repost: Cite Your Sources

*This is a repost from 9/17/17* 

I first read Prince Lindworm in a collection of Scandinavian fairy tales illustrated by Kay Nielsen, who, by the way, is awesome. The problem here is that it was a later edition of the book. At some point, I don’t remember why, I got super into finding out the history of Prince Lindworm. See, it was in this book, which was supposed to be stories from Asbjornsen and Moe. Those are the big Norwegian fairy tale dudes, for those of you who don’t know.

But I’m a little obsessive about my fairy tales. You may have noticed. And this book wasn’t even mine. It belonged to my grandparents. So of course I had my own Asbjornsen and Moe anthology. Or two. Maybe three. And I kind of kept buying these books because I wanted my own copy of this one wacky story. But it wasn’t there. So I googled the complete works of Asbjornsen and Moe. It wasn’t there.

I took advantage of my university’s interlibrary loan system to request every single book in the country that mentioned lindworms. Or lindorms. Or lindwyrms, or a variety of other spellings.

Have I mentioned that I’m a little obsessive about my fairy tales?

Several other books and authors and random people on the internet attributed the story to Asbjornsen and Moe. Who definitely didn’t record it. The reason for this, as far as I can tell? This book my grandparents had, really nice hardcover, fancy publisher, gorgeous illustrations—it was kind of a big deal. All sorts of people had read the story in this book, and only this book, and assumed the information provided was reliable.

And here’s where the publishers went wrong. There’s an editor’s note in the front. It explains that all but two of the stories in the volume are from one particular translation of the works of Asbjorsen and Moe. What they apparently neglected to mention is that one of those two stories was not only from a different translator, but a different source entirely.

So Prince Lindworm didn’t come from Norway. That’s settled. And, okay, I don’t know what to tell you about the one random outlier in my interlibrary loan adventure that said the story was from Sweden, but I’ve got this worked out.

Really, it could have been worse. When I wanted to read the earliest recorded version of Beauty and the Beast, and I couldn’t track down a translation anywhere, I spent months tearing the internet apart before I found a copy that was clearly printed well over one hundred years ago, given the spelling and lettering, in French, scanned in and saved as a pdf. I still have that saved on my computer somewhere. Given that I don’t know any French, dictionaries only provided modern spellings, and any given character could easily have been three to six different letters in that typeface, the several months I spent attempting to translate didn’t really get me anywhere. I don’t think I even translated the first paragraph successfully.

I did a little better with Prince Lindworm. It still took me a couple months to find the text, and it was still a crappy pdf with outdated spelling. Plus it was in Danish. But the lettering was slightly more modern, and I happen to be much better at slogging my way through Danish than French. A little bit of Norwegian, a little bit of Anglo-Saxon, a tiny bit of German. It’ll get you places. Sadly, my extensive background in Latin was utterly useless to French. (And Spanish. It seems my teachers lied to me. I strongly suspect Romani and Portuguese would also be a bust, but at least I can stumble blindly through basic Italian.)

It was, when I found it, three or four pages of a quite large collection. I haven’t gotten into the rest of it yet—soon, hopefully. Gamle dansk Minder i folkemunde, it’s called.  I’m good at general ideas in Germanic languages, not so much actual translations, so bear with me here, but I’m going to tentatively call this “Old Danish Memories from the Mouths of the People.” Sounds better in Danish, right? This is why I keep my translations to myself.

The compiler of this book is listed as Svend Grundtvig, and he’s generally known for collecting Danish folk songs, but as far as I can tell, in my admittedly spotty Danish comprehension, there’s no music for this one.

And, okay, I know I talk a lot about how stories, especially folk stories, don’t belong to anyone, because they’re so mutable, because a story is really a community, a conversation. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know where the conversation started.

For crying out loud, people, cite your sources! I dedicated months of my life to this. Do you have any idea how many utterly worthless books I had to read in search of some tiny hint of origins? How many incorrect attributions I had to read? How much respect I lost for researchers in this field in general?

Look, sometimes tracking down crap pdfs of source material can be fun, okay? I love pulling random linguistic data from obscure folklore and stuff like that. But really. Really. How hard can it possibly be to say, “hey, this historically and culturally significant story that I’m making a profit on because it’s been in the public domain for a hundred years originally came from Denmark”?

There is no excuse not to give fairy tales the correct attribution. Like, anthology and picture book based fairy tales have got to be the easiest writing to make a profit on.  The story has been marinating in your brain forever, right? Do you even remember a time before you knew Cinderella? Just tell it in your own words, and someone else will come along and slap some beautiful illustrations on, and you’re good to go. It costs five minutes and zero dollars to add in a little note saying, “This adaptation was inspired by the French version of the story as recorded by Charles Perrault.”

But no, that’s too much work for you. Instead you’ll just go and publish a wildly popular book that heavily implies incorrect information, and let it spin wildly out of control until poor innocent college kids are staying up all night on the internet reading languages they don’t understand and enlisting the help of just about every library in the continental United States.

Ugh.

Anyway, Grundtvig is a really awesome dude who absolutely knows how to cite his stories. Kong Lindorm was told in 1854 by Maren Mathisdatter, age 67, in Fureby. It was recorded by Adjunct A. Levisen.

See? Was that so hard?

*Remember to support me on Patreon!*

West of the Moon

We left our hero (like a year ago, I’m so sorry guys) alone in the middle of nowhere after her bear roommate/super cute nighttime visitor was swept away by his evil troll mother. A brief recap: if she had slept with mystery man for one more month without curiosity, the spell would have broken and he wouldn’t have had to be a bear anymore. However, her mom convinced her that maybe she should KNOW WHO SHE WAS SLEEPING WITH, so she lit a candle and checked him out in the middle of the night. Now he has to marry his evil troll stepmother’s evil troll daughter, in a land that lies east of the sun and west of the moon.

She decides she’d better go there and rescue him—maybe because she feels guilty, maybe because he’s super cute, maybe both. Astronomy is no help here, so she chooses a direction at random, walking until she meets a little old lady.

The little old lady doesn’t know how to get east of the sun and west of the moon, but she gives our girl directions to a second little old lady, a loaner horse so she can get there faster, and a golden apple. (She always gives her a golden something; the specifics vary but this set seems to be the most common.)

The second little old lady also can’t help us get to the troll palace, but she can help with another horse, directions to another old lady, and a golden carding comb. Old lady number three gives her a golden spinning wheel and sends her to the east wind, and can we all just pause and take a moment to consider the difficulty of lugging around a whole entire spinning wheel made out of solid gold? This poor girl.

The east wind can’t help. The west wind can’t help. The south wind can’t help. Finally she gets to the north wind, who once blew a single leaf east of the sun and west of the moon. He knows where it is, and he’s up for a challenge—our girl is significantly heavier than a leaf, but he manages it with great difficulty.

Girl positions herself outside step-sister troll’s window with the golden apple. Troll expresses interest in the apple, and they make a deal—apple in exchange for one night with the troll’s future husband/stepbrother.

Now it may seem odd that she’s so unconcerned by who he spends his nights with, but troll girl’s got this—boy’s all drugged up. Same thing happens the second night, in exchange for the carding comb. Fortunately, our former bear has some friends among the trolls. Which makes sense since they are his step family. Apparently trolls just don’t care about sorta-kinda-almost incest?

Friends let dude know about his nighttime visitor who’s been sitting by his bed and crying while he sleeps for the last two nights. And about the drugging. He doesn’t take the spiked drink on the third night—the spinning wheel night—and he and our girl make a plan.

(Side-note: the text specifies that his friends are Christians. That’s important in a way we’ll get to shortly.)

Tomorrow is the wedding. And before things get going, our bear-dude issues a condition for marrying the troll.

Sure, whatever, says troll-mom. We got magic, we can meet conditions, no big.

Dude whips out the nightshirt our girl spilled candlewax all over. Wash this.

Turns out trolls really, really suck at laundry. Troll bride can’t do it. Troll mom can’t do it. All the other fancy, royal trolls can’t do it. They scrub and scrub and scrub, and the wax stain just gets bigger.

Now some versions of this story make a point of telling us that the trolls can’t wash clothes because they aren’t Christians. Which I think is just, like, really fascinating. I’ve been thinking about this thing—trolls can’t do laundry—for so long.

I’ve considered a few options. Maybe this was a well established fact about trolls at the time, forgotten by history. Maybe these privileged, royal trolls were so far removed from the daily lives of normal, working trolls that things like chores were beyond their comprehension. But my best guess is that we have a Nothing But the Blood of Jesus situation on our hands here. You know, like, “What can wash my sins away? Nothing but the blood of Jesus”? There’s this big thing in hymns and stuff where stain=sin, and this particular wax stain is essentially a physical representation of our heroine’s mistake. Thus, she can wash out her own stain, because though she sinned, this journey is an indication of her repentance, and the Lord is with her now. The trolls cannot wash out the sin, because they are wicked and do not know God.

(Thus far my research supports the theory that 95% of ridiculous fairy tale occurrences in fairy tales recorded in largely Christian areas after the rise of Christianity can be explained by something I learned in Sunday School. See also: Prince Lindworm.)

So. The troll bride fails to meet the conditions set for the marriage, and all of the trolls are so upset about this that they literally explode.  And everyone else lives happily ever after!

East of the Sun

(Repost in Preparation for Part II next week)

There is a peasant in the woods, and his family is large and he is poor and his children are terribly ill.

One day, a large white bear comes up to him in the woods and says, “Hey, man, if you give me your youngest daughter I’ll give you a ton of money and your crops will prosper and your kids will be healthy.”

And the father is all like, “Excuse me? We do not just give people away. Especially to talking forest creatures. She’s a person, not a pair of spare boots.”

He pauses, considering the general financial situation of his family.

“I’ll ask her if she’s interested.”

Initially, our girl is not wildly enthusiastic about this opportunity, and hey, who could blame her? But things are pretty bad at home, and if she can help, well.

The bear comes back and she climbs on his back, and they travel far and far and far away, to a beautiful castle in the snow. And the bear goes off to do bear things, and the girl goes to the fancy bedroom provided. Night falls. Sleep falls.

And then, the door opens. And then, some dude gets into bed with her. And our girl, she just rolls with it. Like, okay, I’m in a magic castle with a talking bear, hundreds of miles away from everyone and everything I’ve ever known, and now there’s a strange man in my bed. Whatever.

I dunno. Maybe she’s thinking, well hey, at least it’s not the bear. Maybe she’s just too freaked out to react. Who knows?

But this keeps happening. Night after night after night. And she keeps letting it. Are they lying there in awkward silence? Are they talking? Are they sleeping? Are they having sex?

I mean, okay, they’re definitely having sex, because that’s just how fairy tales work—they never spell it out, but the implication is always there.

Anyway. Most of a year goes by. Girl gets homesick. Talks to bear. The bear is a pretty cool bear, because he’s like, “Yeah, sure, but you can only visit for a month. And also, um, please don’t talk to your mom alone?”

Now me, I’d think that last bit was a little sketchy. But our girl figures it’s a pretty good deal.

Her mom, on the other hand, her mom agrees with me. Sketchy. And of course, she manages to get her daughter alone eventually. And then she finds out about how her daughter is spending her nights.

In a move that will eternally villainize her, as it has countless other concerned fairy tale parents, mom objects.

“You’re sleeping with a strange man every night? You’ve never even seen his face? Are you even using protection? Did you listen to none of my lectures about safe sex and stranger danger? This is not okay. This is really not okay. Here. I’m gonna give you a candle and some matches. And the next time this creep shows up in your bedroom, you’re going to wait until he falls asleep, and then you’re going to light the candle and figure out what you’re dealing with.”

So when she gets back to the castle with the bear, our girl listens to her mom and lights her candle.

And this guy she’s been sleeping with for eleven months? Turns out he’s really, really cute. Like, record-shatteringly cute. Like, my-mom-would-totally-understand cute. Like, I-am-physically-incapable-of-looking-away-from-his-beautiful-face-and-my-candle-is-dripping-onto-his-nightshirt cute.

Then the hot wax gets to him, and the cute guy wakes up.

Turns out our boy is the enchanted talking bear, and he just had to get through one more month of sleeping with this girl while providing no information about himself, and the spell would have been broken and he could be a person full time again.

But now the girl, having exactly zero information about what was going on and what was expected of her, has screwed up. So he has to go to a land east of the sun and west of the moon to marry his evil troll stepmother’s evil troll daughter.

Stepmom comes, boy and castle disappear, girl is left alone in the snow. End Part One.

East of the Sun

There is a peasant in the woods, and his family is large and he is poor and his children are terribly ill.

One day, a large white bear comes up to him in the woods and says, “Hey, man, if you give me your youngest daughter I’ll give you a ton of money and your crops will prosper and your kids will be healthy.”

And the father is all like, “Excuse me? We do not just give people away. Especially to talking forest creatures. She’s a person, not a pair of spare boots.”

He pauses, considering the general financial situation of his family.

“I’ll ask her if she’s interested.”

Initially, our girl is not wildly enthusiastic about this opportunity, and hey, who could blame her? But things are pretty bad at home, and if she can help, well.

The bear comes back and she climbs on his back, and they travel far and far and far away, to a beautiful castle in the snow. And the bear goes off to do bear things, and the girl goes to the fancy bedroom provided. Night falls. Sleep falls.

And then, the door opens. And then, some dude gets into bed with her. And our girl, she just rolls with it. Like, okay, I’m in a magic castle with a talking bear, hundreds of miles away from everyone and everything I’ve ever known, and now there’s a strange man in my bed. Whatever.

I dunno. Maybe she’s thinking, well hey, at least it’s not the bear. Maybe she’s just too freaked out to react. Who knows?

But this keeps happening. Night after night after night. And she keeps letting it. Are they lying there in awkward silence? Are they talking? Are they sleeping? Are they having sex?

I mean, okay, they’re definitely having sex, because that’s just how fairy tales work—they never spell it out, but the implication is always there.

Anyway. Most of a year goes by. Girl gets homesick. Talks to bear. The bear is a pretty cool bear, because he’s like, “Yeah, sure, but you can only visit for a month. And also, um, please don’t talk to your mom alone?”

Now me, I’d think that last bit was a little sketchy. But our girl figures it’s a pretty good deal.

Her mom, on the other hand, her mom agrees with me. Sketchy. And of course, she manages to get her daughter alone eventually. And then she finds out about how her daughter is spending her nights.

In a move that will eternally villainize her, as it has countless other concerned fairy tale parents, mom objects.

“You’re sleeping with a strange man every night? You’ve never even seen his face? Are you even using protection? Did you listen to none of my lectures about safe sex and stranger danger? This is not okay. This is really not okay. Here. I’m gonna give you a candle and some matches. And the next time this creep shows up in your bedroom, you’re going to wait until he falls asleep, and then you’re going to light the candle and figure out what you’re dealing with.”

So when she gets back to the castle with the bear, our girl listens to her mom and lights her candle.

And this guy she’s been sleeping with for eleven months? Turns out he’s really, really cute. Like, record-shatteringly cute. Like, my-mom-would-totally-understand cute. Like, I-am-physically-incapable-of-looking-away-from-his-beautiful-face-and-my-candle-is-dripping-onto-his-nightshirt cute.

Then the hot wax gets to him, and the cute guy wakes up.

Turns out our boy is the enchanted talking bear, and he just had to get through one more month of sleeping with this girl while providing no information about himself, and the spell would have been broken and he could be a person full time again.

But now the girl, having exactly zero information about what was going on and what was expected of her, has screwed up. So he has to go to a land east of the sun and west of the moon to marry his evil troll stepmother’s evil troll daughter.

Stepmom comes, boy and castle disappear, girl is left alone in the snow. End Part One.