IV. The Nursery Saga or Märchen
Origin
The ethnologists are not agreed concerning the history of nursery sagas, or märchen, as they call them. Whether such stories as "Jack-the-Giant-Killer" are reduced and modified forms of once greater sagas or whether they are immature stories arrested in their growth toward sagas, the scientists are still discussing. But happily for the narrator, as we noticed before, the question of origin is not of prime importance. He need consider it only so far as it helps to reveal the distinctions of the type.
As the generic title indicates, nursery sagas are tales told to children after lessons are done. Nobody wants instruction; nobody wants facts. "Once upon a time in a certain village" is definite enough. What the listener desires is action, things a-doing, Jack to kill the giant, Cinderella to marry the prince, Tom Thumb to get safely home. The end is always happy, no matter how many troubles the hero or heroine encounters during the course of the narrative. The brothers Grimm expressed their realization that such an end is essential to a märchen. Their devoted scientific collecting and their charmingly sympathetic retelling have given back not only to Germany but also to the whole world much of its otherwise lost pleasure.
English nursery sagas
Good native nursery sagas are scarce in English. Many of our best known, like Cinderella, are importations. "Jack-the-Giant-Killer" and "Jack and the Bean-Stalk" and "Rumpelstiltskin"—or "Tom Tit Tot," as the older version has it—are recorded, however, as of English origin. They have been handed down verbally and in chapbooks and various other written forms for hundreds of years.
Distinguishing elements—the kind of hero
The most important distinguishing element of a nursery saga is the kind of hero. He is always human, very often sagacious of himself as well as finally fortunate because of the aid of some supernatural being or charm; but before the beginning of his adventure he is pretty generally considered foolish or a lazy ne'er-do-well. He is always of obscure origin, and is persistently ignored by history. The place where he lives or where he performs his deeds is selected at random, is of no practical importance, and might just as well have been any other. If the locality is definite and the details of the story are really pertinent, we have crossed the borderland into legend, which is very near to nursery saga. Indeed, say the students of folk-lore, the same story is often told in one country as a nursery saga and in another as a dignified national epic.
Rhymes
The uncouth rhymes occurring here and there within the story are to the nursery saga what the refrain is to the ballad—a sure sign of its type. All the original tales I dare say had rhymes at first, even if many are without them to-day.
The artificial nursery saga is not always marked off closely from the fairy story. Some writers do not appear to have felt the traditional distinctions; but, when a differentiation is made, it is on the basis of the chief actor. The irresistible Alice is a true nursery saga heroine. Whether in "Wonderland" or "Through the Looking Glass" her adventures are her adventures, and not a fairy's. And although the dialogue of the characters is imposed by the brilliant naïveté of the author, it is yet clearly within our classification—as the delectable rhymes attest.
Repetition of situation
Another characteristic you will observe is the repetition of situation: Cinderella goes to the ball more than once; Jack-of-the-Bean-Stalk visits the castle in the sky three times; the king's wife is allowed two false guesses; and there are Cormelian's and Thunderdell's heads to be cut off as well and Gallingantus's.
Two of our worthy literary men, G. K. Chesterton and Bernard Shaw, have recently bandied words over the value and significance of such heroes as Jack. When you come to write an original nursery saga, you can decide for yourself whether you want your hero to conquer a foe greater and stronger than he or whether you want your hero to conquer a foe lesser than he because he himself is greater and stronger than all his foes and conquers by the magic force of his personality. In making the decision, however, you should remember that "greater" and "lesser" are terms subject to a number of varying interpretations.
Supernatural element
After you have decided which kind your hero is to be, you must set about making him human despite the wonderful deeds you mean him to do. The more human, the more interesting; but he must be naturally human, not merely philosophically so. The homeliest touches of every-day life are exactly in keeping with your subject. No poetry here. If you have metrics interspersed, they must be "from jigging veins or rhyming mother wits." Nothing higher than "Fee, fi, fo, fum," or "Ninny, ninny not," or "Be bold, be bold, but not too bold," or "It is not so, nor 'twas not so, but indeed God forbid it should be so." Although your hero is to be human, he need not stand alone; he may have supernatural aid. A fairy, a witch, a charm, or anting-anting may help him. Success, of course, however, must ultimately depend upon his own bravery and wit. What makes the nursery saga different from the fairy story is just the element of the independence and prominence of the human hero. If supernatural agents are present in the nursery saga, they are only assistants: they are not the chief actors; in fact, they are usually at first opponents. The human person is the chief actor.
Tolstoy's Ivan the Fool surely wins by the force of his personality alone. He is one of the pure fools who think no evil and therefore make men good. Although he has the power the imps have given him to call up soldiers, rub gold out of oak leaves, and to cure the sick, he uses this power only for fool-wise ends: he heals beggars, gives away the gold, and makes the soldiers sing. Despite its didactic purpose, this is a typical märchen in having the human fool hero in repeated situations, chanting crude rhymes, and being assisted finally by the supernatural agents that first opposed him.
A few specific suggestions
When you come to the writing, remember that your story is for a child, grown-up or not grown-up, and that you must therefore make the language simple and vivid. Use a good many crude similes and metaphores. Be concrete in comparisons about size, shape, color, garb, and the like. Though you select your hero with care, you need make no fine distinctions of character, since broad strokes will be most effective. Endow your personages, both the hero and his enemy, with a few mannerisms and let them display these often. Get quickly into the action of the story and keep things lively to the end.
Working definition
Here is the working definition: A nursery saga is a narrative of imaginary events wherein is celebrated a hero of a more-or-less humble origin, a child's hero, who, by his own wit and energy, together with the possession of a charm, is enabled to do stupendous deeds, which bring to him material happiness.
Princess Helena the Fair
We say that we are wise folks, but our people dispute the fact, saying, "No, no, we were wiser than you are." But shaskas tell us that before our grandfathers had learned anything, before their grandfathers were born——
There lived in a certain land an old man of this kind who instructed his three sons in reading and writing and all book learning. Then he said to them, "Now, my children, when I die, mind you, come and read prayers over my grave."
"Very good, father, very good," they replied.
The two elder brothers were such fine strapping fellows, so tall and stout! But as for the youngest one, Ivan, he was like a half-grown lad or a half-fledged duckling, terribly inferior to the others. Well, their old father died. At that very time there came tidings from the king that his daughter, the Princess Helena the Fair, had ordered a shrine to be built for her with twelve columns, with twelve rows of beams. In that shrine she was sitting upon a high throne and awaiting her bridegroom, the bold young youth who with a single bound of his swift steed should reach high enough to kiss her on the lips. A stir ran through the whole youth of the nation. They took to licking their lips and scratching their heads, and wondering to whose share so great an honor would fall.
"Brothers," said: Vanyusha (Ivan), "our father is dead; which of us is to read prayers over his grave?"
"Whoever feels inclined, let him go!" answered the brothers.
So Vanya went. But as for his elder brothers they did nothing but exercise their horses and curl their hair and dye their mustaches.
The second night came.
"Brothers," said Vanya, "I've done my share of reading. It is your turn now; which of you will go?"
"Whoever likes can go and read. We've business to look after; don't you meddle."
And they cocked their caps and shouted and whooped and flew this way and shot that way and roved about the open country.
So Vanyusha read prayers this time also—and on the third night, too.
Well, his brothers got ready their horses, combed out their mustaches and prepared to go next morning to test their mettle before the eyes of Helena the Fair.
"Shall we take the youngster?" they thought. "No, no. What would be the good of him? He'd make folks laugh and put us to confusion; let's go by ourselves."
So away they went. But Vanyusha wanted very much to have a look at the Princess Helena the Fair. He cried, cried bitterly, and went out to his father's grave. And his father heard him in his coffin, and came out to him, shook the damp earth off his body, and said, "Don't grieve, Vanya. I'll help you in your trouble."
And immediately the old man drew himself up and straightened himself and called aloud and whistled with a ringing voice, with a shrill whistle.
From goodness knows where appeared a horse, the earth quaking beneath it, a flame rushing from its ears and nostrils. To and fro it flew, and then stood still before the old man, as if rooted in the ground, and cried, "What are thy commands?"
Vanya crept into one of the horse's ears and out of the other, and turned into such a hero as no skazka can tell of, no pen describe! He mounted the horse, set his arms akimbo, and flew, just like a falcon, straight to the home of the Princess Helena. With a wave of his hand, with a bound aloft, he failed only by the breadth of two rows of beams. Back again he turned, galloped up, leapt aloft, and got within one beam row's breadth. Once more he turned, once more he wheeled, then shot past the eye like a streak of fire, took an accurate aim, and kissed the fair Helena right on the lips!
"Who is he? Who is he? Stop him!" was the cry. Not a trace of him was to be found!
Away he galloped to his father's grave, let the horse go free, prostrated himself on the earth, and besought his father's counsel. And the old man held counsel with him.
When he got home, he behaved as if he hadn't been anywhere. His brothers talked away, describing where they had been, what they had seen, and he listened to them as of old.
The next day there was a gathering again. In the princely halls there were more boyars and nobles than a single glance could take in. The elder brothers rode there. Their younger brother went there, too, but on foot, meekly and modestly, just as if he hadn't kissed the Princess, and seated himself in a distant corner. The Princess Helena asked for her bridegroom, wanted to show him to the world at large, wanted to give him half her kingdom; but the bridegroom did not put in an appearance! Search was made for him among the boyars, among the generals; everyone was examined in his turn—but with no result! Meanwhile, Vanya looked on, smiling and chuckling, and waiting till the bride should come to him herself.
"I pleased her then," says he, "when I appeared as a gay gallant; now let her fall in love with me in my plain caftan."
Then up she rose, looked around with bright eyes that shed a radiance on all who stood there, and saw and knew her bridegroom, and made him take his seat by her side, and speedily was wedded to him. And he—good heavens! How clever he turned out, and how brave, and what a handsome fellow! Only see him mount his flying steed, give his cap a cock, and stick his elbows akimbo! Why, you'd say he was a king, a born king! You'd never suspect he was once only Vanyusha.
From "Russian Fairy and Folk Tales." Translated and edited by W. R. S. Ralston (Hurst and Company).
Juan the Guesser
Once there lived a youth by the name of Juan. He was the only son of a family and so he was dearly loved. One day his father said to him, "Juan, you are quite old now so you have to study." "Yes, father," said Juan obediently. Juan was then sent to a large town to school. But he did not study; he spent all his time going to places of amusement. When vacation was coming near, Juan bought a reader so that he could give proof that he studied. His father was very anxious to see him and so prepared a large fiesta in honor of his arrival. When Juan arrived, he would not speak his dialect, and if he was asked something he just answered "Si, señor." Everybody then was astonished; for all thought that he had learned so much that he had forgotten his own dialect.
One day Juan threw his father's plow into a well because he wanted to show the people that he knew how to divine. The father came to him then and said, "Dear Juan, will you tell me where I can find the plow which I lost yesterday?" "Ah, father!" said Juan, "there is no difficulty in finding it; fetch my book and I will look it up." The father obeyed instantly and Juan looked in his book and said:
"A B C, A B C,
Oh, my father's plow is lost!
A B C, A B C,
It has the well for a host."
"Well, my book tells me that it is in the bottom of the well." The father ordered the servants to look in the well, and sure enough they found the plow in it. The father was very proud of his son now, for he had had a real proof of his ability. So Juan was called prophet and his name was heard everywhere.
Once the princess of his country lost a very valuable ring, and the king offered to marry her to the one who could find the ring. But he ordered that anyone who might attempt and not guess rightly should be beheaded. Many of the wise men in the kingdom attempted to guess, but nobody was right and so they had to be killed. The rumors of Juan's knowledge reached the king's ears, so he sent a carriage to his home in order to bring him to the palace. Juan did not want to go because he knew that he would surely be killed. He could not disobey the king, however, and so he got into the carriage. As soon as he entered the carriage he became very sad and thoughtful and repented of having tricked his father. When they were quite near the town of the king, Juan opened his book and groaned sadly:
"Someone is to die,
Not far from here, oh, my!"
Instantly the carriage stopped and the driver presented himself before Juan and said, "Oh, sir! I beg you to pardon me; I am the one who stole the princess's ring. She was washing her hands in a dish one day and took the ring off her hand, and then threw the water away. While I was cleaning the garden I saw it and picked it up. Kindly forgive me, here is the ring!" Juan did not take the ring, but said, "I forgive you now; I thought you would not tell me anything about it, and I was going to tell the king to have you killed, for I knew, that you were the one who stole it; my book said so. As soon as we arrive at the palace, place the ring under the stairs and cover it with a cocoanut shell." The driver was very happy and promised to do everything he was commanded.
Juan was received with honors in the palace and when he was asked about the ring, he told everything about the theft of it from the information he had got from the driver and said, "My book tells me all of this and says that now it is under a cocoanut shell under the stairs." Everybody went down to look for it and they found it. Once more now Juan's knowledge was talked of everywhere. According to the king's promise, he was married to the princess. The marriage ceremony was celebrated with much pomp and splendor, and many kings from different countries came to attend it.
Once a neighbor king came to Juan's country. When he went to the palace and met the other king, he said, "If your son-in-law is really a prophet, I propose to you a wager. I have three watermelons in my ship; one of them has one seed, the other has two, and the other has three. Should your son-in-law guess which has one, which has two, and which has three seeds, I will give you half of my kingdom. But if he fails, you will have to give me half of yours." The king was well pleased to hear the proposal, and being confident of Juan's knowledge, he accepted it. Fortunately, while the two kings were conversing, the vassals of the foreign king stood near the door of Juan's room and talked about the watermelons. One of them said, "If I were the one to guess I would say that the smallest has three seeds, the largest has two, and the middle-sized has one, then I should be very rich and would be as powerful a king as our master." Juan, after hearing all that the men had said, went to his bed and pretended to be asleep. When the foreign king had gone away, his father-in-law went to awake him in his room, and told him everything about the challenge. Juan said that he was afraid of no defiance so long as he had his book. The next morning, when the king and he went to the boat, Juan told exactly the number of seeds in each watermelon, according to what he had heard, after reading, or rather feigning to read, some characters in his book. The fruits were cut open then and it was found out that Juan was right. The king, his father-in-law, was very happy and liked Juan very much, for he said that Juan was, without any doubt, the wisest man the world ever knew.
Not long after this another king came on a large ship loaded with money. He came to propose another challenge. He said that he had three earthen jars, filled with salt, water, and vinegar. And if Juan should guess what each contained, the load of this ship would be his father-in-law's; but if he should fail, the king had to give him in turn another ship full of money also. The king accepted the proposal immediately; but Juan was very sad because he knew that the king would order him to be beheaded if he should not guess rightly. So he decided to commit suicide before the day when he should appear before the contending monarchs. During the night he went down silently and threw himself in the river behind the palace, in which the foreign ship was anchored. He tried to drown himself, but he could not, for he knew how to swim. He heard then some men talking in the ship, and one of them said, "If that guesser could just know that the jar with white marking on the neck contains salt, and the one which has the largest lid holds vinegar, he would be the richest man on earth." Juan swam quietly back after hearing this and slept. The next morning Juan and the king went to the ship, and Juan, after turning back and forth the leaves of his reader, told rightly the contents of every jar. The king was very happy and held a large festival in honor of the wise Juan the Prophet.
Juan was afraid to hazard his life any more, so he burned his magic volume. From that time on he never guessed any more, because he said that his book was gone and so his knowledge, too.
—Bienvenido Gonzales.
The Shepherd Who Became King
Many years before the birth of Christ, when the victorious legions of Rome were gradually conquering the then known world, there lived in a foreign country a cruel and despotic king. He had a daughter in the very bloom and freshness of youth. She was so beautiful that many a young man of the country asked her father to allow him to be his son-in-law. The suitors were so many that the king determined to marry his daughter to somebody. But he could not find the right man. He sent proclamations to the different provinces of his kingdom, telling the people that he intended to marry his daughter to the man who could accomplish three things which the king would require the competitor to do; but if the competitor should fail to do the three things within the required time, his head should be cut off. Many young men attempted, but they were all killed.
Near the king's palace there was living at that time a shepherd. This man had, since his boyhood, devoted his life to the interests of his fellow countrymen. Everybody loved him.
One day while he was tending his sheep out in the fields, an old woman saw him and said, "Receive this pipe as a present from me. Whenever you want anything from any animal, blow this pipe and the desired animal will come to you. Keep this carefully for it will be of great service to you." The shepherd thanked her and went away. He wanted to know whether the woman was telling the truth or not. So he blew the pipe and said, "Come here, all the serpents." He no sooner said these words than hundreds of serpents came to him hissing and twisting. Then he dismissed them.
He decided to compete for the hand of the princess. So he went to the palace in the evening and expressed his desire. "Ha! ha!" said the king, "do you want to have your head cut off, young man?" "We will see the result," said the shepherd proudly. "All right," said the king; "the first thing you must do is to eat in one day all of the bread there is to be found in my granary. You must either eat the bread or lose your head."
"I will go to the granary now and begin eating," said the shepherd.
"Well, go!" said the king, and he told a soldier to conduct the shepherd to the granary. The shepherd was locked up in the granary with nobody but himself and the bread. He took out the pipe which he had concealed under his coat. He blew the instrument and said, "Come here, all of the rats." He had just finished his command when thousands of rats came to him. He told them to eat all of the bread. The rats were so numerous that all of the bread was eaten before daybreak. Not a single crumb was left. Many rats arrived too late to get their share.
When the king and his court went to the granary in the morning, they were surprised to see that the building which was full of bread the day before was now totally empty. "All right," said the king, "you have to do the second thing. You must separate in one day the grains of corn from the grains of rice. Go to my granary, where you will find the corn and the rice. Remember the punishment."
"All right," said the shepherd; "I'll go to the granary this evening and begin my work."
So he went to the building where the corn and the rice were and there he was locked up again. He then blew his pipe and said, "Come here, all of the ants." Just then millions of ants arrived. He told the big ants to pick up all of the grains of corn and place them on one side of the granary. To the small ants he assigned the work of selecting the grains of rice and placing them on the other side of the building. The ants were so numerous that the entire work was finished before morning.
The king and his court were surprised to see that the shepherd had done his work. "Very well," said the king, "you have to accomplish the third and last thing and then you may marry my daughter."
"I'll do the work this afternoon," said the shepherd. "Good!" said the king. "Come here this afternoon at two o'clock. I'll give you twelve wild hares. Tomorrow afternoon at two o'clock you must return them to me without a change in any of them. The number must be exact."
At two o'clock in the afternoon the shepherd went to the palace. The king gave him the twelve hares. They were no sooner in the hands of the shepherd than they ran away. The king and his court laughed loudly and said, "He will not catch them. He is sure to fail in his work."
"We will see," said the shepherd proudly. He then went to his cottage. He blew his pipe and said, "Come all of the twelve hares of the king." He had no sooner said these words than the twelve hares came to him and began to jump about him.
An hour later the king sent one of his servants to see whether the shepherd was out looking for the hares or not. When the servant reached the shepherd's cottage, he was surprised to see the hares sleeping quietly by the side of the shepherd. The servant went back to the king and related to him all that he saw. The king grew pale and did not know what to do. He told the princess to go to the shepherd and try to get one of the hares. So the princess disguised herself as a country girl and went to the shepherd's cottage. The shepherd recognized her immediately. Her solicitations were all in vain. At last the shepherd said, "I'll give you one of the hares if you scrub my kitchen for me." To prevent herself from being married to the shepherd she said "Yes." So the shepherd told her to do her work. When she had finished her work, the shepherd gave her one of the hares. When she was a hundred yards from the shepherd's cottage, the shepherd blew his pipe and said, "Come here, the hare with the princess." He had just finished speaking when the hare ran away from the princess to the side of the cottage.
The princess was crying when she reached the palace and told the king how she had been fooled. The king determined to get one of the hares by means of money. So he disguised himself as a merchant, mounted a horse with two panniers slung on the sides, and went to the shepherd's cottage. But the shepherd recognized him at once. His solicitations also were in vain. Even the bag of gold was useless. The shepherd would not allow himself to be fooled. At last he said, "I'll give you one of the hares if you wash my feet." To prevent the marriage of the princess with the shepherd, the king agreed. So he dismounted and washed the shepherd's dusty feet. Then the shepherd gave him one of the hares. The King put the animal in one pannier and went away. But his undertaking was unsuccessful. The note of the pipe and the cry of the shepherd excited the hare, who jumped out of the pannier and ran away.
The king went to the palace with a sad face. He told his courtiers how unsuccessful he had been, and went to his private room. The next day at two o'clock in the afternoon the shepherd returned the twelve hares. Not a single hare was changed.
But the king still refused to fulfill his promise. He told the shepherd to fill a bag with all the bad words he knew. The shepherd uttered every kind of bad words; but the bag was still empty. But one thing came to his mind. He said loudly, "The princess scrubbed my kitchen yesterday afternoon." The princess jumped from her seat and said, "The bag is full."
"No," said the king. "Continue." "The king," said the shepherd, "wa—wa—wash——" The king jumped from his throne and said, "That's enough," and tied the bag. The marriage was then arranged and the next day the shepherd and the princess were married.
From this time on the shepherd and princess lived happily for many years. He succeeded his father-in-law as king.
—Vincente M. Hilario.
CHAPTER II
THE SYMBOLIC-DIDACTIC GROUP
We now turn to a set of stories with a new basis, the symbolic-didactic narratives: fables, parables, and allegories. By the word "symbolic" we shall understand that the stories mean something more than appears on the surface. By "didactic," the fact that the narratives are told for the purpose of teaching a lesson. The hearer no more believes in the mere literal occurrence than does the narrator himself. The meaning is the concern of both. For the time being, the story-teller has set himself up as a preacher, or the preacher as a story-teller. His object is to make vivid and dramatic a lesson in manners, morals, religion, politics, or art.