Disability, Deformity, and Disease in the Grimms' Fairy Tales

I got a new book for Christmas! Disability, Deformity, and Disease in the Grimm's Fairy Tales by Ann Schmiesing. I had heard about it on Surlalune and the topic is one of special interest to me-although I'm mostly a stay at home mom now, I also teach a couple music classes to adults with intellectual disabilities. And I'm now amazed I've never realized how common a topic disability is in fairy tales before!

I've only read the introduction so far but I'm really excited to read more. As Schmiesing points out, there are very few studies done on the topic of disability in fairy tales, despite how often it occurs (think the birds pecking out the stepsisters' eyes in Cinderella, or thumbling tales, or many other examples the book will explore). In fact, disability usually functions in one of two basic ways: it sets a protagonist apart and gives them an extra challenge to overcome (such as thumblings) or is indicative of a villain, either by nature or given as a punishment. In fact, some form of disability is often the impetus of the story itself. David T. Mitchell suggests that the purpose of stories is to explain that which has "stepped out of line", and that understanding differences in people are one of the things that "propel the act of storytelling into existence."

Thinking of disability in broader terms, it's not surprising that it appears so often in the Grimms' collection. Wilhelm suffered from poor health, and his first son grew very ill and died in infancy. Because of poorer living conditions, illness and other disabling conditions were far more common during the Grimms' lifetimes, when the average life expectancy was only about 35.

Of course, the stories often treat disabilities in ways that aren't exactly politically correct today. Most people are aware of some of the issues in fairy tales when it comes to gender studies, but not as many people are aware of issues when it comes to people with disabilities in literature. The Grimms were a product of their time, as were their storytelling sources. When folklore scholars have attempted to tackle these issues they often lack sensitivity and awareness,  but many disability scholars may not have a proper grasp of fairy tale studies (Schmiesing cites one article that mistakenly assumed that the Grimms were not two collectors and editors, but one author, "B. Grimm"!!! I'm extremely intrigued as to where that "B" came from...) Interestingly, as Wilhelm edited the stories over the course of the editions, he tended to (probably unintentionally) enhance or add portrayals of disability.

Other authors, in Schmiesing's opinion have taken disability in folklore a little too literally, attempting to give various characters a specific diagnosis. This is often just speculation which ultimately misses the point of how the disability functions. Yet others don't take it literally enough-treating the disability as only a metaphor representing something else and ignoring crucial parts of the story. Fairy tales are certainly a challenging genre to study because of their nature, taking place in "a world in which metaphors take on literal meaning.," as she quotes from Maria Tatar. But from everything I've read so far, I think Schmiesing will strike that much needed middle ground, as someone who is aware of both disability and folklore study. Can't wait to read more!

From the Archives-The Evolution of Rumpelstiltskin

Although the significance of names is a topic of interest in the tale Rumplestiltskin, Jack Zipes sees the main connecting point in versions of the story to be their connection to spinning. Not all versions even have the famous name guessing scene, but all reveal common attitudes towards spinning. A good spinner could gain a reputation that would result in a better marriage, so spinning was very important to many women; however, the tales also reveal that the spinners may long to end their monotonous task if possible. Many of the stories "were probably originally told by women in spinning rooms [and] reveal how the spinners would actually like not to spin anymore, but use their spinning to entangle a man and to weave the threads and narrative strands of their own lives."

Basile's story "The Seven Pieces of Bacon Rind" from 1634 feature a girl who is lazy and a glutton. Her mother gave her seven pieces of bacon to make into soup, but the hungry girl ate all the bacon, and put old shoe leather in the soup to cover up what she had done. Her mother was furious when she found out and was beating her when a merchant walked by and demanded to know what would cause a mother to beat her daughter. The mother claimed that her daughter was so industrious, she had filled seven spindles, despite the fact that it was harmful to her health. The merchant offered to take the daughter home as his wife, where he would be happy to allow her to spin so enthusiastically.

The merchant bought twenty rolls of flax for his wife, expecting twenty rolls of spun flax from his wife when he returned from the fair in twenty days. His wife did no work whatsoever, but ate the merchant's food. Finally she realized she had nothing to show for the time her husband had been gone, so she squirted water onto passersby until a group of fairies were so amused they did her work for her. When her husband returned, she feigned illness because of her hard work, and her husband declared he would rather have a healthy wife than a sick and industrious one and told her not to do anything to exhaust herself. 

In this version, though the main character is lazy, she can be at least credited with being clever. This may not have resonated with the Victorian values of hard work and industry, but modern audiences are probably more sympathetic towards someone who can figure out a more efficient way to get the job done by thinking outside of the box. Also, the husband is very kind compared to the future cruel King who threatens his new bride with death.

L'Heritier's "Ricdin-Ricdon" of 1705 is bogged down by descriptions of how beautiful and perfect the heroine, Rosanie, is, and how everyone else at the palace is jealous of her. Rosanie is not lazy and a glutton like her Italian predecessor, but simply a slow spinner with an abusive mother. Later it turns out there was a whole switched-at-birth thing and Rosanie is actually royalty although she was raised by simple folk, (actually kind of like Villeneuve's backstory for Beauty in her 1740 version of Beauty and the Beast). But here Rosanie is granted a magic wand that will spin for her, and if after three months she can remember the name which Ricdin-Ricdon told her, she would be free and out of his power. She forgets, and is all distressed until the prince reveals that he overheard a demon disguised as an old man telling him how he traps women who don't know that he is Ricdin-Ricdon. She safely returns the wand and has a "perfect union" with the prince and "extreme happiness." 

The Grimms have multiple versions of spinning tales in their collection. Most people are familiar with "Rumplestiltskin," which lays the blame on the father who claims his daughter can spin gold, and the King who demands gold or death from the maiden. 

"The Three Spinners" is closer to the earlier French and Italian stories-a mother tells the queen her lazy daughter can't stop spinning, and she is expected to turn out more spun yarn than she can possibly manage. Three odd women offer to do her work for her, as long as they are invited to her wedding (she will win the Prince for her work). As they arrive, the groom is horrified by the girl's "ghastly looking friends," and asks how they came to have such a flat foot, drooping lip, and immense thumb; the three women reply it was from treading, licking, and twisting thread. The Prince declares his bride shall never spin again. 

"The Lazy Spinner"  shows a wife trying to trick her husband into getting out of spinning, first by scaring him (becoming a voice in the woods who calls, "He who chops wood for reels shall die in strife. She who winds yarn shall be ruined all her life") and then by substituting the skein of wool with a clump of tow, and allowing her husband to think it was his fault because he had done something wrong, so he doesn't mention it again. 

I think "The Three Spinners" is my favorite, which is yours?

Illustrations by Charles Folkard, Warwick Goble, and John B. Gruelle. Information from Jack Zipes' The Great Fairy Tale Tradition

Awakening the Beauty

Everyone's familiar with the episode where the Prince comes and awakens Sleeping Beauty with a kiss; some people might be aware of older versions of the fairy tale that involve rape and childbirth; sensationalized articles and lists love to use those versions to shock people with the "real" and disturbing versions of classic tales.

While many of the older versions are indeed quite dark and disturbing, they don't all involve rape of an unconscious victim, and True Love's Kiss isn't always the solution in later tales. I used Surlalune's Sleeping Beauties Tales From Around the World book to gain a few different examples of how the Princess is actually awakened.

Going back to Norse mythology, the story of Brunhild (from the late late 13th century) is similar to a Sleeping Beauty tale. In it, the bravery of the hero Siegfried allows him to pass through the dangers and get close to Brunhild (although he doesn't actually do anything, the "vile flames fled in shame and dismay before the pure sunbeam flashes from Greyfell's mane"-so the real secret to heroism is apparently having a magical horse). Once there, he gives Brunhild a gentle kiss on the forehead (not even the lips) and softly calls her name, giving us the picture of an absolute gentleman. I find it ironic that this possibly oldest version of the tale is the closest to the Disney in terms of the stereotypical hero riding in on his horse, braving dangers, and saving the day with a kiss. From there we depart from that ideal-

It's the French story of Troylus and Zelladine from Perceforest, from some time in the 13th or 14th century, that we get to some of the horrific parts of the story. We read a description of how Troylus tries to resist temptation around the beautiful sleeping girl, but just can't help following "the tenets of Venus"-at least this version describes his actions as cowardly, and perhaps tries to justify it a little because Troylus "speaks a long discourse begging forgiveness for his grand liberties." Yet nine months later Zelladine gives birth to a son, who grabs her finger in an attempt to suckle, and suckles so hard that he sucks out the sleep thorn that kept her enchanted.

There are other, less well known Medieval stories which involve a maiden under an enchanted sleep. In almost all of them she is taken advantage of. In Pandragus et Libanor, the maiden is in an unnatural sleep, does not wake up during the night in question, but simply wakes up normally the next day. In Brother of Joy and Sister of Pleasure, the "hero" manages to wake the woman he impregnated with the help of a bird who gives a magic herb to the maiden. This is one of the rare stories in which the woman actually gets upset to find she has been taken advantage of (Zelladine also felt devastated upon waking)-most sleeping beauties seem strangely silent, even happy, to find themselves awakened with a strange lover and/or child-although in this story she does eventually grow to love her rapist (There are good reasons these stories aren't so well known today). Lastly, in the adventures of Blandin de Cornoalha the Knight, we find a chivalrous hero who is more like Siegfried-he falls in love but does not appear to succumb to temptation; rather breaks the enchantment through bravery; he learns he must defeat a serpent, obtain a white hawk, and bring the hawk to the side of the maiden.

Basile's Sun, Moon, and Talia (early 1600s) is very similar to "Troylus and Zelladine"-the only difference being that it is twins who suck the flax from her fingernail and not a single baby. It is this version which also introduces the next violent episode, with the attempted cannibalism of the children. In this version it's a little more understandable, though, because it's the Prince's wife that grows furious when she discovers the truth.

From there we move away from raping/nursing babies as the primary cause of awakening. In Perrault's 1697 classic version, the prince finds the princess and kneels at her side (no kiss) just as the 100 years of her curse happen to be ending, so his part in everything is pretty simple. Once the Princess awakes, they simply talk together for four hours, so it's perhaps the best example of love in a Sleeping Beauty tale. The brambles parted to let him through, so while he wasn't quite the brave knight in shining armor, it would have been pretty creepy to continue as the thorns closed again behind him and then again as he walked through the castle where everyone was eerily unconscious, so we'll give him credit for that. The cannibalism episode follows, only now it's the Prince's mother that is an ogress and wants to eat her grandchildren

In the Italian Sun, Pearl, and Anna, the hero simply removes a spindle from the grasp of the sleeping Anna. They have children together (followed by the cannibalistic mother in law again) but at least it's consensual; I find this transition (or lack thereof) to be downright humorous: "'How are you today, Anna?' 'Very well, thank you. And how are you, your majesty?' 'I'm well.' By the end of nine months, the girl was great with child."

There's another very brief, tragic Italian tale called The Son of a King in which the queen mother actually succeeds in cooking and eating her grandchildren and daughter in law (there is no mention of awakening or the princess actually being found asleep in this one, just that she was found in a deserted castle).

In the Grimm's Briar Rose, once again the hedge parts  for our hero (but this time the hedge is filled with corpses from others who attempted to pass before the time was up), and we have a Princess awakened with a kiss for the first time since Siegfried and Brunhild.

The Grimms also have another Sleeping Beauty tale, The Glass Coffin. I thought I had never read it before but it turns out not only had I read it, I wrote a whole post on it 5 years ago. This is why I have a blog...my memory is terrible! Anyway, it's a fascinating tale in which a Princess was cursed to sleep in a glass coffin because she spurned the advances of an evil magician-she had even attempted to shoot him but the bullet bounced off of him! A traveling tailor discovers her, and all he had to do was look at her, and she woke up and instructed him on how to open the coffin and free her. Afterwards, she gave him a "friendly kiss on his lips." This one wins the award for the most active female heroine!

In the Austrian The Enchanted Sleep, although the count's son does kiss the sleeping maiden, it doesn't appear to awaken her right away. He had also the foresight to write her a letter, which she later used to summon him to her, and also prove his innocence and his brothers' treachery (they had actually killed him, but animals he had helped along his journey came and healed him).

The Story of The Prince in Love is from Egypt, but bears similarities to older tales, particularly the cursed flax under the fingernail being what causes the sleep. Here, fortunately, the prince simply finds and removes the flax, and it's only after she wakes up that he spends forty days and nights with her in bed-although no children result from it. The prince is eventually a jerk to her though, so she decides to teach him a lesson-disguises herself with more beauty and causes him to fall in love with her again, but spurns his gifts, and will only marry him if he pretends to be dead and is himself carried around in a coffin. I'm not sure shy she wants to marry a man who thinks he's cheating on her, but it is interesting that he must have his own sort of "enchanted sleep" before they unite.

There's also The Petrified Mansion from India, in which the prince finds a stick of gold and just happens to touch the Princess' head with it, which revives her and the rest of the mansion's inhabitants. The curse was brought on by a stick of silver, so gold was the antidote-and the same gold stick later healed the Prince's parents, who were mourning their missing son.

So rather than bravery, many medieval Princes took advantage of sleeping princesses. Later, most Princes became more respectful of the enchanted women, who seemed more likely to be revived by chance than from getting a magical kiss. Some of the tales make us feel uncomfortable to read today, yet some were pretty feminist, featuring strong and brave women, and men who had self control. What other versions of Sleeping Beauty and methods of awakening are there? (I didn't even touch on Snow White tales here...)

Illustrations-A. H. Watson (first two), Millicent Sowerby (last two)

Giveaway: The Original Folk and Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm

Princeton University is hosting a giveaway over at Goodreads for the chance to win a copy of The Original Folk and Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm, edited by Jack Zipes! I LOVE my copy and the ability to compare and contrast their earliest published versions of tales with later ones-and to read tales that get left out of most "complete" collections of Grimm tales.


Hop on over to enter-you have until New Year's Eve! Unfortunately (for some of you), it's open to US readers only.

And if you're interested, here are some of the tales I've been able to explore this year using this book:

Castle of Murder
Grimms and the Elves
Frog King vs. Frog Prince
Spinners Tales
The Twelve Brothers
Bluebeard

Scary Fairy Tales: Castle of Murder

This isn't a ghost story like the others in this series, but still spooky enough. I was already surprised to find that the Grimms had a Bluebeard story in their first edition of tales (besides Fitcher's Bride), one which I much prefer to the Perrault version anyway. In addition to their tale "Bluebeard" they have another version, "The Castle of Murder," which also was eliminated from later editions of their collection.

Other than having the more exciting title, "Castle of Murder" is more clumsily written. I'm not finding a translation of the text online (correct me if I'm wrong?). It's very similar to the classic Bluebeard plot: a daughter of a shoemaker is courted by a well-dressed nobleman and agrees to marry him (but no blue beard or strange feature to tip her off that something is wrong). As they go to his castle on their wedding night, he asks her if she's having any doubts. She claims she doesn't, although she is starting to feel uneasy.

The next day he had to go take care of some business so left her alone with all the keys-and didn't warn her against using any of them. She comes to the cellar to find an old woman scraping out intestines, and she tells the new bride that the next day, she will be scraping out her intestines. In her terror, the bride dropped her key into a basin of blood, which wouldn't come off, and therefore the master would know she had been in the forbidden cellar.

Although I like that, with the lack of a warning, the focus isn't on the bride's "transgressions" and there's really no way to blame her, it makes less sense that entering a non-forbidden cellar would lead to her death (not that serial killing is logical, but for the sake of the story, it's unsatisfying). Also, the narrator throws in the fact that her sisters had met their fate the same way, when we weren't even aware that her sisters were missing-or had married the same man!

Yet the old woman, for some reason, covers for this new bride, claiming she's already killed her, allowing the bride to escape and reveal the goings on of the Castle of Murder. Fortunately her story is believed even though she has no proof (usually in stories where she reveals her murderous husband's goings on, she has a finger or ring from another victim to back it up).

Illustrations- A. H. Watson (first two), John B. Gruelle

The Grimms Influenced Frankenstein?

I came across a rumor that the Grimms were somehow connected with the creation of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. You may have come across sites like this one that claim:

"The brothers Grimm actually told this story to the step mother of Mary Shelley, and in later years Mary Shelley visited the Frankenstein castle. She eventually used the story as the basis for her world-famous novel Frankenstein." Of course, that site also states that in addition to the castle, Frankenstein's monster itself also really existed (it's a site on haunted castles).

Frankenstein Castle, Darmstadt, Germany

In all my reading on the Grimms and their tales, I've never come across anything like this, or a version of Frankenstein they recorded.

For a more detailed explanation of why this castle most likely had no influence whatsoever on Mary Shelley, you can read this article, by Michael Mueller. Shelley's book doesn't take place in Hesse, or even in a castle. It is very unlikely Shelley would have had a chance to see the castle, as many claim.

Mary Shelley

Some say Mary Shelley could have had indirect contact with Jakob and Wilhelm Grimm. The Frankenstein enthusiasts claim that Mary Jane Clairmont, Mary Shelley's stepmother, was one of the translators of their tales-but there is no evidence of her translating their tales. Although there was supposedly a letter from Jakob to Mary Jane that included a horror story never published, there is no evidence of this either (and why wouldn't they have published such a great story in their collection of legends?)

However, one thing that IS true is that the Grimms were familiar with the Castle. The Frankenstein Castle is located in Hesse, Germany-the same region the brothers Grimm came from. One of their legends, "The Lindworm at the Well," involves a knight of Frankenstein-but no scientist or monster. The name is common enough that Shelley choosing the same one was likely a coincidence.

So, a bummer for anyone who would like to believe that the story of Frankenstein was based on real events. Frankly, it's such a sad story I wouldn't want this one to be true. There are enough bizarre and scary things in the world as it is...

Scary Fairy Tales: The Stolen Pennies

Some folktales can really be classified as ghost stories more so than our traditional idea of fairy tales; I thought for October it would be fun to do a series featuring some of these more chilling fairy tales!

First up, from the Grimms, "The Stolen Pennies" (or Stolen Farthings):

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 Once a father was seated at the dinner table with his wife and children. A good friend who had come to visit was eating with them. While they were sitting there the clock struck twelve, and the stranger saw the door open and a very pale little child dressed in snow-white clothes come in. It neither looked around, nor did it speak, but went straight into the next room. Soon afterwards it came back, and just as silently went out the door again.

 On the second and on the third day it came back in exactly the same manner. Then the stranger finally asked the father, whose beautiful child it was that went into the next room every day at noon. 

"I did not see it," he said, adding that he did he know whose child it might be.

 The next day when it again came, the stranger pointed it out to the father, but the latter did not see it, nor did the mother and the children see anything. Then the stranger got up, went to the door of the room, opened it a little, and looked in. There he saw the child sitting on the floor, and busily digging and rooting about in the cracks in the floor. When it saw the stranger, it disappeared.

Shaun Tan

 He now told what he had seen and described the child exactly. Then the mother recognized it, and said, "Oh, it is my dear child who died four weeks ago."

 They ripped up the floor and found two farthings which the child had once received from its mother to give to a poor man. It, however, had thought, "With that money you can buy yourself a piece of zwieback," and had kept the farthings, hiding them in the cracks in the floor.

 Therefore it had had no rest in its grave, and had come every day at noon to look for these farthings. Then the parents gave the money to a poor man, and after that the child was never seen again.

Grimms and the Elves

Most people are probably familiar with the story of the Elves and the Shoemaker; how a humble cobbler discovered night after night that the shoes he intended to make the next day were made for him, and after he and his wife discovered that small naked men were doing the work for them, they made a set of clothes for each to thank them. The elves were pleased with this, took the clothes, and disappeared. Interestingly, although the original publication from 1812 did emphasize how quickly and nimbly the elves worked, there was nothing mentioned about how excellent the workmanship was until later versions (Originally, the first pair of shoes made more money simply because they fit well). Also, whereas the first version simply ended with the elves dancing right out the door and never returned, the Grimms later assured readers that the shoemaker still prospered the rest of his days.

Rie Cramer

(Later illustrators often gave the elves a ragged set of clothes to avoid depicting naked men)

What many people might not realize is that that story is included in a set of three short tales in the Grimms' collection, all about people's different interactions with elves. The second story is about a servant girl who was asked to be the godmother to one of the elves' children. Her employers advised her that she should do as the elves requested, so she saw their beautiful kingdom where everything was made with precious stones and materials. She meant to go home after performing her duties as godmother, but the elves requested that she stay with them for three more days. After that, they filled her pockets with gold and she returned to the house to work-only to find out that time passes differently in the land of the elves; the three days with the elves had actually been a whole year, in the first edition. The Grimms must have wanted to emphasize the creepy factor by later making it seven years, and adding that her employers had died during that time.

Andrea Deszo

The final story is about a changeling, that had been placed in a child's crib by the elves. Taking the advice of her neighbors, the mother boiled water in eggshells, causing the changeling to laugh and therefore lose his power. The elves then returned the rightful child and took the changeling away with them.

It's an interesting group of tales that show the different sides of elves in folklore-sometimes kind and helpful, other times viciously stealing your baby-or sometimes your worlds cross and your world is forever changed, even though there appeared to be no evil intent in asking the servant girl to stay an extra three days. (I also wonder what would have happened if the maid had refused to act as godmother...)

Around the Web

InkGypsy is back!! Once Upon a Blog has new posts up!

I enjoyed reading Csenge Zalka's translation of a variant of The Handless Maiden from Hungarian on Multicolored Diary. "Handless Maiden" is one of my least favorite fairy tales, but I prefer the Hungarian version to the Grimms'

I also really enjoyed Kathrine Langrish's essay on the symbolism of shoes from many cultures, and how that connects with Cinderella-over on Seven Miles of Steel Thistles.

If the Grimm tale "Mary's Child" didn't make you angry before, it will after you read Jenny Prater's take on it: *#@% You, Mary on Halfway to Fairyland

Around the Web

Here's some sites I've added to the link list on the right and wanted to highlight-

Megan Kearney's Beauty and the Beast tumblr-I've mentioned this a couple of times after linking something here that I found on Megan's site. Someone once called me the online expert on Beauty and the Beast, which is very flattering but sadly not at all true. Megan Kearney, on the other hand, just might be (although we can't forget Heidi Anne Heiner of Surlalune!). This site is a source of all kinds of BATB inspiration, and she's introduced me to versions and illustrations and other fun facts I had no idea existed! The site also gives updates to her online BATB comic. I'll admit I haven't been following along, mainly because I really don't like reading anything of substantial length on my computer-but I've got Volume One of the printed version on my wishlist and from everything I've heard it seems like this could be the next best version of my favorite fairy tale.

Fairy Bat Tales- Aiyanne Chan just finished a fascinating series looking into the Magical Items to Survive the Grimms' Fairyland. She read ALL the way through the Grimm fairy tales (something I've never even done!) and took copious notes on all of the magical items found there. It's really eye opening, there are so many interesting magical elements in the lesser known tales. I think this would be great inspiration for writers who want to weave fairy tale elements into their stories, or anyone who wants a glimpse of folklore beyond the standard tales we hear about over and over.

*Housekeeping Notes: In the process of editing my link list I accidentally deleted it! I've been working on getting everything back, but if any of the links don't work, or something is missing you would also consider a great online resource, let me know in the comments!

And, I would love to have more suggestions of your favorite fairy tale books! Last chance!

Grimms' Frog King vs. Frog Prince

In the Grimms' first edition of Household Tales, from 1812, there were two versions of "Frog Prince", one in each volume. The first, "Frog King, or Iron Henry" is actually the version that we know today as "Frog Prince," and the original "Frog Prince" is now virtually unknown.

In "Frog King," there is one daughter who meets the frog after she loses her golden ball in a well, and promises him to eat off her plate and sleep in her bed in order to get it back (although she doesn't actually think she will have to follow through with that promise). Her father forces her to fulfill that promise, and after she gets frustrated, she lthrows the frog against a wall, and he transforms into a prince (ironically, not a King). The prince's friend Henry is then introduced (kind of randomly, IMO) as being so joyful his master is released from his enchantment, that he had ordered iron bands to be wrapped around his heart "to keep it from bursting with grief." As the prince and princess drive away, the breaking bands cause loud cracking noises.

In "Frog Prince," there are three daughters. The eldest discovers that a frog is making the water in their well murky. He offers to make it clear again if she will be his sweetheart, and she refuses. The same thing happens to the middle daughter, but the youngest decides making an empty promise is worth getting clear water. That night the frog comes to her, and of her own accord she reluctantly opens the door to him, and he sleeps at the foot of her bed. He does this for three nights; on the last she tells him she won't let him sleep there any more, but she wakes up to find he's transformed into a Prince, just because she allowed herself to be his sweetheart. They married and her sisters were jealous. This version was later excluded from subsequent editions of Grimms fairy tales.

Which version do you like better?

Also, for an interesting comparison of "Frog King" from the first to last edition, this page allows you to literally see each phrase/section side by side (way easier than trying to follow along in two separate books!)

(Also, thanks for those of you who have offered suggestions on our fairy tale summer reading post! Be sure to get in your suggestions if you haven't already!)

Images-Unknown artist (Please share in the comments if you know!), William R Symonds

Texts can be read in either of these books:
The Complete First Edition: The Original Folk and Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm, translated and edited by Jack Zipes

Surlalune's Frog Prince and other Frog Tales from Around the World

Arthur Rackham's Rare and Revolutionary 1917 Illustrations

I saw this link on Tabled Fables to a brief article on Brain Pickings with the intriguing title: Arthur Rackham's Rare and Revolutionary 1917 Illustrations for the Brothers Grimm Fairy Tales, by Maria Popova. Rackham illustrations are some of the most classic and iconic and you've probably seen his beautiful images before, so it's nice to read a little of the history behind the illustrators who helped redefine our mental image of fairy tales.

Rackham first illustrated Grimm fairy tales in 1909, and then "In 1917, amid the thickest darkness of World War I, Rackham returned to the Grimms — those supreme patron saints of the magical inside the macabre. This time, he interpreted the centuries-old tales differently: Where his first edition had been unapologetically violent and grim, the new one radiated what the human spirit most needed amid the hopelessness, destruction, and desecration of the war — beauty, enchantment, charm, hope, even humor."

I wish the article included more examples of this, comparing and contrasting the darker earlier illustrations with the more hopeful later ones. There are lots of illustrations, just not ones that show this concept-most didn't even say which edition they were from.

The article has more on his life and different publications but is a pretty quick read, mostly beautiful images.

Fairy Tales About Contentment

The Grimms' tale "The Fisherman and his Wife" tells the story of a magical fish that could grant wishes, and the wife who was never satisfied and ultimately ended up back where she started, in a poor little shack by the sea. It essentially imparts the classic moral "be careful what you wish for," which has good uses, although it might bother modern readers because of what the tale seems to say about women (the wife in the story is the greedy, never satisfied one; although the pushover husband is not the most admirable character either).

There is a similar Japanese fairy tale I learned about via the Myths and Legends podcast that both I and the host Jason Weiser prefer to the Grimm version, The Stonecutter. (This tale can also be found in Lang's "Crimson Fairy Book".)

It tells the story of a poor stonecutter who, for many years, was content to work hard, knowledgeable and strong from his years of experience. But one day, delivering a gravestone to a rich man's house, he became envious of the large, cool mansion, allowing him to escape from the heat of the day. He wished out loud that he could be a rich man, and the spirit of the mountain granted his wish.

He lived for a while, happy to enjoy his new wealth. But one day, he saw a prince ride by, and realized that despite his riches, a royal prince had more power than he. So he wished to be a prince.

Yet he was not content as a prince, and he realized the sun had more power than he to give discomfort. He next became the sun, and relished his power, until clouds blocked him from scorching the earth, and he wished to be a cloud.

As a cloud he felt powerful, as he covered the earth with rain, but he realized that though he could drown people and plants, there was a large boulder that remained unaffected by his storms, so he wished to be a rock.

Image source

As a rock, he was immovable and powerful-until one day, a poor stonecutter came away and chipped away his pieces. He wished to become a stonecutter, and ended up as his former self, and was content to do his work again.

I like the cyclical nature of power as shown in this fairy tale. First of all it challenges our perception of power, as it shows that all natural forces have their own influence. Also, the stonecutter actually learns his lesson from experience. The fisherman's wife simply climbs up the ladder, is never satisfied, and then is sent back down to the lowest rung of the ladder when she wishes to be like God. She never experiences what that might be like and learns there are negatives to the things we long for, and there's no sense of empowerment to the poor working person. (Note: this is not just in the Grimms' collection, but in another German tale, "Hanss Dudeldee," with essentially the same plot.)

There is a Russian tale that is very similar, but with a slight twist at the ending; rather than wishing to be like God, the fisherman's wife-turned-czarina wishes to have power over the oceans and fish. It makes sense that the magical fish would rather not be at her mercy.

"Fisherman and his Wife" illustrations by Kay Neilsen

The Grimms' Spinner's Tales: First Edition vs. Last

Taking another look at how the Grimms altered their tales between the first edition and the last almost 50 years later; this time, with some tales that focus on the chore of spinning. First up, the classic "Rumpelstiltskin".

For some reason I had it in my head that the Grimms had altered the miller's daughter in later versions of Rumpelstiltskin, making her lazy, and therefore possibly implying that she deserved part of the trauma she underwent. Turns out that the daughter remains pretty much an innocent victim throughout the Grimms' first and last retellings, although I'm not the only one to have been under this impression (see this post). Does anyone know of later versions that make the daughter out to be lazy? I was in a children's theater play once where I played the miller's wife (ironic, I now realize, because that character is completely absent from the fairy tale), so maybe the daughter in the play version was lazy.

The Grimms, in typical fashion, added extra details and embellishments to Rumpelstiltskin, so by the seventh edition the story is much longer than the first edition in 1812. Aside from filling out the plot a bit, there are two main changes made in the story:

1. In the seventh edition, the Queen sends out a messenger to search for Rumpelstiltskin's true name, and he eventually comes across him in the forest. In the first, it's actually the King who just happens to come across him, and happened to mention what he overheard to the Queen. In this instance I like the changes the Grimms made better. The King is a pretty negative character in this fairy tale-so greedy he needs three rooms filled with gold, all larger than the last (despite Rumpelstitskin's unfair demand, if the King had never threatened death for gold -three times- the heroine would never have had to make such an awful bargain-Rumpel was initially content to receive jewelry for helping). It seems unnatural for the King to aid the happy ending. Plus, by the Queen sending  out a messenger, she's really engineering her own help, and is a more proactive character.

2. In the first edition, Rumpel gets upset, yells "the devil told you that!" and runs away. By the final, the unfortunate man had a much more violent end, tearing himself in two out of fury. This change I don't like as much. Besides being unnecessarily violent, as I mentioned earlier, Rumpelstiltskin isn't really a true villain. He even gives the Queen a way out (and then prances around the forest singing his name...almost like he wanted to be found out?). Rumpel is clearly the helper, although a bit rough around the edges, not greedy and murderous like the King, who goes unpunished.

But even more stark in contrast is one of the Grimms' lesser known tales about spinning, The Three Spinners. This is, maybe, where I got the lazy daughter idea in my head (Or maybe from Basile's spinning story). The 1857 tale begins,

"There was a girl who was lazy and would not spin. Her mother could not make her do so, whatever she said to her. Finally anger and impatience so overcame the mother that she beat her, upon which the girl began to cry loudly.
Now the queen was just driving by, and when she heard the crying she ordered her carriage to stop, went into the house, and asked the mother why she was beating her daughter so that her cries could be heard out on the road.
The woman was ashamed to reveal her daughter's laziness and said, "I cannot make her stop spinning. She wants to spin on and on forever, and I am poor, and cannot get the flax."
Then the queen answered, "There is nothing that I like better to hear than spinning. I am never happier than when the wheels are humming. Let your daughter come with me to the palace. I have flax enough. There she can spin to her heart's content."
The mother was completely satisfied with this, and the queen took the girl with her. Arriving at the palace, she took her upstairs to three rooms which were filled from the bottom to the top with the finest flax.
"Now spin this flax for me," she said, "and when you are finished, you shall have my oldest son for a husband. I do not mind if you are poor. Your untiring industry will do for a dowry.""

The girl ends up cleverly hiring three ugly women she sees passing by to spin for her, and later they tell her groom to be and mother in law the Queen that their unusual features (broad flat foot, large tongue, and broad thumb) came from spinning too much (peddling, licking, and twisting thread), and seeing the consequences, the young bride gets out of spinning forever. It's a humorous ending, and as it was a tale probably told by women as they spun, a chore clearly very boring and uncomfortable, it makes even more sense. Yet the original story is much more sympathetic to the spinner and villainizes those who demand it:

"In olden times there lived a King who loves flax spinning more than anything else, and his daughters had to spin the enitre day. If he didn't hear the wheels humming, he became angry. One time he had to take a trip, and before he said his farewell, he gave a large casket of flax to the Queen and said: 'All this must be spun by the time I return.'

"The princesses became distressed and wept. 'If we are to spin all of that flax, we'll have to sit the entire day, and we won't be able to get up at all.'"

The story ends similarly, but this time it is the Queen who thought of the clever plan, and sought out the three ugly women (rather than conveniently seeing them pass by) and told them what to say. So in this case, the women in the first edition are more proactive and clever, and not at all lazy.

Also very telling is the original title of this tale-it was changed from "Nasty Flax Spinning" to the much less evokative "The Three Spinners." Some of the changes didn't come just from the Grimms' opinions, but pressure from parents who wanted the tales to be more child appropriate; maybe the parents didn't like the idea of fairy tales encouraging children to shirk their chores?

For more texts of the Grimms' first editions of tales, check out The Original Folk and Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm

Illustrations by Helen Stratton

The Grimms' The Twelve Brothers: First edition verses Seventh

Still loving my new copy of the First Edition of the brothers Grimm Tales.  Sometimes I'll get disappointed when there isn't a big difference between stories in the first edition verses later ones, but I guess it's good to know that Wilhelm (who did most of the editing) didn't completely change every story.


Some changes are more well known to fairy tale fans-the fact that Rapunzel's witch/fairy found out about the prince because Rapunzel was pregnant and showing, or the fact that Snow White's stepmother was originally her mother.

So I'm on the lookout for differences in tales that aren't as well known. I found some very interesting edits in The Twelve Brothers, a version of "The Wild Swans." The link is to the latest edition, if you want to read the whole thing.

The story begins with a King and Queen who had twelve sons, and expecting their thirteenth child.
First edition: The King doesn't want the last child to be a daughter, and threatens to kill his sons if the Queen should give birth to a girl.
Final edition: The King wants to give his only daughter the entire inheritance, so he makes the same threat to his sons.

This is a pretty interesting change. The original King is so obviously sexist and wrong, and yet the change is almost worse in a way because it makes it seem like favoring a daughter is linked with evil. That was my first impression, since we're so wired to look at fairy tales through a gender lens, but actually upon further reflection I think the change was made just to avoid a major plot hole. If the King really hates girls, and has no problem killing his own children, why would he allow his daughter to live and run around the castle? It makes much more sense to threaten to kill your sons if you prefer daughters.

Well, the Queen is too loving a mother to allow her sons to be murdered. She sends them into the forest to hide until her baby is born. If the baby is a son, she will have a white flag raised from the castle; if it is a girl, it will be a red flag and they should flee.
First edition: It's briefly mentioned that the youngest son is the Queen's favorite
Final edition: The youngest son is named Benjamin and given a larger role. There is an extra scene in which he begs her to tell him why she is so sad, and she hesitates to tell him at first, but then shows him the room with twelve coffins that have been prepared for them.

The brothers hide and watch for the flag. When the baby is born (the last edition mentions that this was during Benjamin's watch), there is a red flag, and their lives are all in danger. The young men are angry that they should have lost their lives for a girl, and swear that if they ever see a girl they will kill her. The brothers make a home for themselves in the woods and hunt.
First edition: "Whenever they encountered a maiden, she was treated without mercy and lost her life"
Final edition: The brothers conveniently seem to avoid actually encountering any females, so they are not murderers any more.

Meanwhile, their little sister has grown up, and one day finds twelve shirts that belonged to her brothers. She is told the story, and decides to go out in search of them. She encounters one of her brothers at home.
First edition: That brother threatens to kill her, but she pleaded that she would keep house for them, and they allowed her to live.
Final edition: The brother she meets is Benjamin, who didn't want to kill her at all. Before showing her to his brothers, he made them promise not to kill the first maiden they saw. The brothers, rather than simply realizing they could use someone to do housework, were impressed by her beauty, delicacy, and sweetness, and loved her.
Also, rather than doing the housework solo, she helps Benjamin do the cooking and cleaning. I found this very interesting, and probably countercultural? This seems to be a very rare instance of a male doing any sort of housework in the Grimms' tales.

The family lived and worked together happily, until one day, the Princess found twelve beautiful lilies and picked them, only to be told by an old woman that the flowers were her brothers, and now they would be turned into ravens forever. The only way she could save them would be to take a vow of silence.
First edition: The Princess must be silent for twelve years, at the risk of her brothers dying if she broke her vow
Final edition: The silence was shortened to seven years

The Princess was discovered by a King, who asked her to be his wife. She did not speak, but nodded. Only her husband's mother was wicked and put into her son's mind that his new bride was a wicked beggar and must be put to death. The King would not believe his mother at first, but finally was persuaded, and agreed to have her burnt. Just as the flames were getting near, the last minute of the curse was up. The twelve ravens came flying down and turned into men, and their sister was able to defend herself and tell her story. The King rejoiced.
First edition: "Now they had to decide what they should do with the evil mother-in-law. Well, they stuck her into a barrel full of boiling oil and poisonous snakes, and she died a ghastly death."
Final edition*: Rather than the main characters imposing their own justice, the same fate was determined by a court of law

*Thank you to Julia Mavroidi for pointing this out to me. My translation (this Barnes and Noble copy) ends this way: "But the wicked mother-in-law was very unhappy, and died miserably." Apparently their editor/translator (uncredited, that I can find) still found the ending too violent

Illustrations-
Cover and first picture-Andrea Dezso, Walter Crane, John B. Gruelle

For more on "The Twelve Brothers," here's an interesting article on Fairy Tale Origins

The Tale of the Dead Princess and the Seven Knights

This Russian poem, by Alexander Pushkin, is an interesting version of "Snow White." Written in 1833, Pushkin had a French translation of the brothers Grimm, so it appears that The Tale of the Dead Princess and the Seven Knights was his revision of the tale. The full text can be read here, but below is an excerpt.

This version is much more romantic. Rather than the Prince (disturbingly) lusting after a corpse, this Prince was already engaged to the Princess, and spent the time of her disappearance searching for her. The Princess lives with seven knights, who despite being in love with her treat her with utmost respect, and she remains loyal to her betrothed.

Also, the Princess in this poem comes across as less stupid, because there is no warning against talking to anyone that she breaks; and instead of accepting gifts from the same woman who already tried to poison her, her only interaction with her stepmother was to trade bread for an apple. (Actually, some of these features would later become part of the Disney version, such as a previous romance between the Prince and Princess, and one temptation episode instead of three).

Illustrations by Charles Robinson

The Tsaritsa, time to pass,
Chatted with her looking-glass:
"Who in all the world is fairest
And has beauty of the rarest?"
Then what did the glass reply?
"You are fair, I can't deny.
But the Princess is the fairest
And her beauty is the rarest."
Up the proud Tsaritsa jumped.
On the table how she thumped,
Angrily the mirror slapping,
Slipper heel in fury tapping!
"O you loathsome looking-glass,
Telling lies as bold as brass!
By what right is she my rival?
Such young folly I shall bridle.
So she's grown up—me to spite! 
Little wonder she's so white:
With her bulging mother gazing
At that snow—what's so amazing!
Now look here, explain to me
How can she the fairer be?