Showing posts with label Morris Dancing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Morris Dancing. Show all posts

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Carnival Celebrations in Fairy Tale Land: Death by Dancing or the Ship of Fools


(Click on picture to enlarge).

Carnival Celebrations in Fairy Tale Land: Death by Dancing or the Ship of Fools

In 1483 German chronicles of the city of Eger mention a “procession of plows” and “a ship of fools” that were part of the carnival celebrations that year.  But this was not the first time a “ship of fools” was mentioned rolling across the landscape.  In 1474 such a ship was reported to be part of the Shrove Tuesday traditions of a guild of cloth makers.  Further research by Jakob Grimm tied this “ship of fools” to the overland procession of a ship, first described by Monk Rudolf in his Chronicles of St. Trond in 1133. The priest frowned on this custom because he considered it a vestige of a pagan rite tied to the arrival of spring.  The custom involved a ship being placed on wheels and pulled through a number of villages in the Lower Rhine Valley, where the local population greeted the parade with music, loud cries and dancing. The fact that only cloth makers accompanied the ship and were the only ones allowed to touch it reflects how early such old cult traditions were transferred to handworker guilds. Monk Rudolf not only complained about the noise the villagers made when the ship passed by, but also about the groups of women, stripped bare or wearing only a shirt, mingling and dancing with the fools accompanying the ship. After dancing for some time, the monk witnessed things he felt were better forgotten in silence and anguish. These “ship of fools” parades were originally based on spring fertility rites and magic, even when the festivities later became more of a “game” celebrated by the guilds. These customs were ultimately incorporated in Sebastian Brant’s medieval text “Ship of Fools” (1494) which depicted  the ship as bringer of luck. This belief was popular from the 15th – 17th centuries and became part of the lively New Year’s celebrations of villagers, who saw the Christ Child as a bringer of gifts travelling on a ship of fortune. In 1530 such ship parades were prohibited during the carnival celebrations because they were associated with actions that were much too crude in the minds of missionary priests. Along with the abolishment of the Nuremburg Bearded Mask Runs and their enactments of “hell”, the ship of fools custom also ended abruptly (1539). Oddly this tradition was most popular in regions that did not lie close to any body of water.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Remnants of Ancient Dance Found in Fairy Tales


 Grotesque Masked Dancing during Carnival, "Morisken Type" or Morris Dancing,
characterized by finger snapping, black hoods, white shirts and bells attached to the legs.

Dancing as Cultural History: Remnants of Ancient Dance Found in Folk Tradition and Fairy Tales

Dancing, running and leaping are all part of carnival traditions in Europe. These wild pre-Lenten dances are sometimes referred to as “running” (German: “Laufen”) in the broadest sense of the term, for all types of movement are meant: running, hopping, jumping, racing, stamping/stomping and finally dancing. These dance moves are also called the “Shrove Tuesday Run”, the “Carnival Mask Run” or in some areas in Germany one even speaks of the “Perchta Run”.  Whoever has seen the wild racing, dancing and leaping as part of the carnival celebration in the Black Forest area of Germany (Elzacher Schuddig) can easily believe he has witnessed a remnant of one of the earliest forms of dance. Masked dancing and running are also found in many other places in Germany, the Swiss Alps and the Austrian mountain regions. In many parts of Swabia, the Thursday before Ash Wednesday is referred to as the “Gumpige” day (Jumping Day). In Allgaeu, Bavaria it is referred to as “Running Thursday” or “Raging Thursday”. It is also called “Fool’s Whit Thursday”. “Perchta Runners” in Austria also purportedly like to say “Wild Berta herself runs with us!” The oldest literary reference to such cult dancing was provided in the Indiculus Superstitionum et paganiarum from the 7th century. Here the pagan custom of running across fields in clothing “torn to bits” is condemned.  The idea of being possessed by a dancing frenzy that tears clothing and shoes to bits is found in many a fairy tale (Sweetheart Roland, The Shoes that were Danced to Bits).  In Sweetheart Roland dancing destroys more than shoes and clothing; the dancer herself is torn to bits by her uncontrolled movements.
The original beliefs associated with this wild dancing have survived to this day; namely, that the fertility of the fields could literally be “stomped” out of the earth. Forcefully stamping on the ground purportedly promoted plant growth. It was believed that flax, hemp and grain would grow faster and taller the higher the runners leaped and the more numerous their numbers.  It was commonly accepted that only wild persons danced, but those who converted to Christianity abandoned the practice.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Dancing Mania or Fairy Tale of the Shoes that were Danced To Bits


 (Tomi Ungerer, The Joy of Dancing)

Grimm’s Fairy Tale No. 133 The Shoes that were Danced to Bits

There once lived a king who had twelve daughters, each one more lovely than the next. They all slept together in one chamber, where their beds stood side-by-side. In the evening, when they lay there, the king locked and bolted the door.  But in the morning when he unlatched it, he saw that his daughters’ shoes had been danced to bits. And what is worse, no one was able to wheedle the truth out of the girls about how it happened. The king issued a proclamation. Whoever discovered where they danced at night would be granted the hand of one of his daughters in marriage.  And after his death that suitor would become the king. But if after three days and nights, the young man did not succeed, his life would end. It wasn’t long before a king’s son offered to take up the wager. He was well-received and at night was led to a room next to the sleeping chamber of the daughters. His bed was placed there and he was told to keep watch and find out where they went and danced. So that they could not sneak away without his knowledge, the door between the chambers was kept open. But the eyes of the king’s son soon fell shut like heavy lead and he fell into a deep slumber. In the morning when he awoke, all twelve had been out dancing and their shoes, standing beside each of their beds, had holes in the soles. The second and third nights were the same and so the young fellow paid with his head and there was no mercy.  After this many other gallants came forward to take up the wager. But they all paid for their daring with their lives.
Now it happened that a poor wounded soldier, who could no longer serve, found himself on the path to the kingdom. He encountered an old woman, who asked him where he wanted to go. “I don’t quite know, myself,” he replied and sighed deeply. “I would like to find out where the king’s daughters dance their shoes to bits, and afterward become king.” “That is not so difficult, the old woman said, “you must not drink the wine that is brought to you at night and must act as if you were fast asleep,” the old woman said. She then gave him a little coat and said “When you wear this coat you will be invisible and can creep after the twelve daughters.”
When the soldier had received the good advice, he was encouraged and took heart. He went before the king and declared himself a suitor. He was welcomed like the others and given princely garments to wear. At night when it was time for bed, he was led into the ante-chamber and when he wanted to go to bed, the oldest daughter came and brought him a cup of wine. He had a sponge fastened below his chin and let the wine gush into it and did not drink a single drop. Then he lay down and after a while, he began to snore as if he were fast asleep. The twelve king’s daughters heard him, laughed and the oldest said “He should have spared his own life.” After this they all got up, opened the cupboards, trunks and boxes and took out beautiful dresses. They brushed their hair before the mirror, jumped around and looked forward to the dance. Now the youngest said “I don’t know why you are so happy. I feel something strange. I am sure we shall experience misfortune.” “You are a silly snow-goose,” the oldest said, “one who always is fearful. Have you forgotten how many king’s sons have already been here? I didn’t even need to give the soldier a sleeping potion, the rascal won’t wake up.” When they were all ready, they looked in on the soldier, but he closed his eyes and did not move. They now thought they were quite safe. The oldest went to her bed, knocked on it and it immediately sank into the earth. They climbed through the opening, one after another, the oldest daughter in the lead.
The soldier had seen it all, did not hesitate but put on his little coat and climbed after the youngest daughter. In the middle of the stairs he stepped on her dress. She became startled and cried out “What is this? Who is holding me back by my dress?” “Don’t be so silly,” the oldest daughter replied, “You caught your dress on a hook.” They all descended and when they reached the bottom they stood in a wonderful arbor. All of the leaves were silver and they shimmered and sparkled. The soldier thought to himself: “You should take a sign with you,” and he broke off a branch. A loud crash was heard coming from the trees. The youngest cried out again “Something is not right. Did you hear the noise?” But the oldest daughter replied “Those are shots of joy, because we will soon redeem our prince.” They now came to an arbor, where all the leaves were gold. And finally to a third arbor, where the leaves were clear diamonds.  Each time the soldier broke off a branch, each time there was a loud sound so that the youngest daughter became terrified. But the oldest daughter insisted each time the noise was only a shot of joy. They continued on their way and came to an enormous body of water. There stood twelve little ships and in each ship sat a beautiful prince. They had been waiting for the twelve daughters and each prince now took one in his boat. The soldier sat in the boat with the youngest daughter.  The prince said “I don’t know why the ship is so much heavier and I have to row with all my strength if I want to move the boat.”
“How should that be,” the youngest daughter asked. On the opposite shore stood a brilliant castle, from which cheerful music could be heard with drums and trumpet call. They rowed across, entered and each prince danced with his dear one. The soldier was invisible and danced along, and when someone held up a cup with wine, he drank it until it was empty before the princess could hold it to her lips. The youngest daughter became terrified, but the oldest daughter urged her to be silent. They danced until three in the morning, when all their shoes were danced to bits and they had to stop. The princes took them back across the water and the soldier now took position in the lead boat, next to the oldest daughter. On shore they took leave from their princes and promised to come again the next night. When they arrived at the stairs the soldier ran up ahead and lay down in his bed. The twelve slowly climbed the stairs in exhaustion, but the soldier snored so loud that everyone could hear him. They thought to themselves “We are safe with him.” They took off their pretty clothes, put them away and placed the shoes danced to bits next to their beds. Then they all lay down. The next morning the soldier didn’t want to say anything, but returned to see the strange events the second and third nights. Everything was like before and they danced each time until their shoes were danced to bits. The third time, the soldier took a cup with him as sign. When the hour came and he was to answer, he took the three branches and the cup and went before the king. The twelve daughters stood behind the door and listened, what he would say? When the king asked the question “Where have my twelve daughters danced their shoes to bits during the night?” He replied “They were with twelve princes in a subterranean castle.” And he described what had happened. The king had his daughters called and asked them whether the soldier spoke the truth. They saw they had been found out and did not lie. Everyone admitted it. The king asked the soldier, which wife he wanted. He replied “I am no longer very young, so give me the oldest daughter.” They were married on the same day and he was promised the kingdom after the king’s death. But the princes were enchanted for the exact number of nights they had danced with the twelve princesses.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Sweetheart Roland


 The Mysterious Power of Music 


Grimm’s Fairy Tale No. 56:   Sweetheart Roland

There once lived a woman who was really a witch and she had two daughters. One was ugly and bad and the woman loved this daughter because it was her real daughter. The other girl was beautiful and good. This one she hated because she has her stepdaughter. At the time, the stepdaughter had a beautiful apron, which the other girl sorely wanted. She became envious and said to her mother that she desired it above all else and had to have the apron. “Quiet, my child,” replied the old woman, “you shall indeed have it. Your stepsister deserved to die a long time ago. Tonight, when she sleeps, I will come and chop off her head. Make sure that you lie on the far side of the bed and push her to the front.” Now it would have been over for the poor girl if she hadn’t been standing in the corner and heard everything. When it came time for bed, the first daughter had to get into bed first; but when she had fallen asleep the stepsister pushed the girl forward and took the place near the wall. At night the old woman came creeping into the room holding an axe in her right hand. With her left hand she felt the bed to see if anyone was lying in front. Then she seized the axe with both hands, and struck and chopped her own child’s head off.

When the woman had gone, the girl got up and went to her sweetheart, who was named Roland, and knocked on his door. When he came out she said to him “Listen, Sweetheart Roland. We must flee quickly. My stepmother wanted to strike me dead, but she killed her own child instead. When dawn breaks and she sees what she has down, all will be lost.”
“But I advise you to first take her magic wand away, otherwise we will not be able to save ourselves when she pursues us.” The girl fetched the magic wand and then took the severed head and scattered little droplets of blood, one on the earth in front of the bed, one in the kitchen and one on the stairs. Then she hastened away with her dear one.
In the morning when the old witch got up, she called to her daughter and wanted to give her the apron. But the girl did not come. Then she called out “Where are you?” “Here on the stairs, I am sweeping,” replied one of the blood droplets. The old woman went out and did not see anyone on the stairs and called out again “Where are you?” “Here in the kitchen, I am warming myself,” called the second droplet of blood. She went into the kitchen but did not find anyone. Then she called out again “Where are you?” “Oh, here in bed, I am sleeping,” the third blood droplet cried. She went into the chamber and to the bed. What did she see? Her own child lay there swimming in blood, the one whose head she had chopped off.
The witch fell into a frenzied rage and leaped to the window. She could peer out far into the world where she saw her stepdaughter with her Sweetheart Roland hastening away.  “That won’t help you,” she called after them. “Even if you are far away from me, you shall not escape.” The witch put on her magic mile boots, in which she could travel an hour’s distance in one step. It did not take long before she had caught up to them both. When the girl saw the old woman rushing toward her, she took the magic wand and transformed Dear Roland into a sea and she herself into a duck, which swam in the middle of the sea. The witch stood on shore and threw bread crumbs and tried as she would to lure the duck ashore. But the duck would not be lured and the old woman had to return home in the evening defeated.
The girl and her Sweetheart Roland then took on their human forms and hastened away . They fled the entire night until dawn broke. Then the girl changed into a beautiful flower in the middle of a thorn hedge but her Sweetheart Roland she changed into a fiddle player. It wasn’t long until the witch caught up to them and said to the fiddle player “Dear fiddler, may I break off this beautiful flower?” “Oh yes,” he replied “I will play while you do it.” In her haste the witch now crept through the hedgerow and wanted to break the flower because she knew who the flower really was. The fiddler began to play and whether she wanted to or not, the woman began dancing, she had to dance because it was a magic dance. The faster he played, the more violent the old woman was forced to jump. The thorns tore at her clothing and pierced her skin until bloodied and wounded, she fell to the ground dead.
Now the two were redeemed. Roland spoke “I will go to my father and prepare our wedding.” “I will stay here and wait for you,” the girl replied. “So that no one recognizes me, I shall turn myself into a red field stone.” Now Roland went out and the girl stood in the middle of the field as red stone and waited for her sweetheart. But when Roland returned home, he fell into the trap of another and he soon forgot the girl. The poor girl stood a long time, but when he did not return, she became sad and turned herself into a flower and thought that soon someone would come and trample her.
But it happened that a shepherd was watching his flock in the field and saw the flower. Because it was so beautiful, he broke off the stem, took it home and placed it in a box. From that time on wonderful things happened in the shepherd’s house. When he got up in the morning, all the work was already done; the rooms were swept, tables and benches cleaned, fire and stove were warm and water already carried. At noon when he returned home, the table was set and a good meal was presented. He could not understand how it happened because he never saw anyone in his house and no one could have hidden in such a small cabin. The good care was of course welcomed but finally he became unsettled by it. He went to a wise woman to seek council. The wise woman said “Magic must be behind it; tomorrow morning early, hold a watch and see if anything stirs in the chamber. When you see anything move, regardless of what it is, throw a white cloth over it, the magic will be over.” The shepherd did what she said and the next morning when day broke, he saw how the box opened and a flower emerged. Quickly he jumped toward it and threw a white cloth over it. The magic was now undone and a beautiful girl stood before him. She admitted that she had been the flower and had kept his household for him. She told him about her fate and because he liked her he asked whether she wanted to marry him. But she replied “No,” because she wanted her Sweetheart Roland, even though he had abandoned her. But she promised not to leave and would continue to keep house for him.
Now the time came that Roland’s wedding was to be held. According to ancient custom it was announced that all the young maids should gather at his house and sing to honor the wedding couple. When the faithful girl heard it, she was very sad and thought her heart would break in two. She didn’t want to go but the others came and took her with them. When the other girls turn came to sing, she stepped back, until only she was left. She could do nothing but had to sing. When she began her song and it reached Roland’s ears, he jumped up and cried “That voice I know. That is the rightful bride. I do not desire any other.” Everything that he had forgotten suddenly returned and filled his heart with joy. Now the true maid celebrated the wedding with her Dearest Roland. Her suffering was over and her joy now began.


To read more about the poignant tale of true love:

http://www.fairytalechannel.com/2011/02/for-valentines-day-love-and-marriage.html

And to read more fairy tales:

Translation FairyTaleChannel.com


Saturday, July 19, 2008

July Fairy Tale: Tanzwut or the Dangers of Dancing Rage at the Height of Summer

Grimm’s Saga No. 51: Dance with the Waterman

Near the town of Laibach a water spirit lived in a river of the same name. He was called Nix or Waterman. He showed himself to fishermen and sailors by night and to others by day so that everyone knew how he rose up from the water and revealed himself in human form.

In the year 1547 on the first Sunday in the month of Julius, the entire village gathered according to an old custom at the old Laibach market near the fountain, under the cheerful shade of a beautiful linden tree. Here they ate their meal in a joyful, communal spirit whilst music played and not a few danced merrily. After a while a finely shaped, well-dressed young swain entered the throng, as if he wanted to join in the dance. He nodded politely to the assembled folk and offered each dancer his hand in a friendly way. But his grip was limp and ice-cold and upon touching his hand, a gray shudder went through the limb of the person he greeted. Soon he selected from the group a splendidly adorned, fresh-faced but impudent maid, who was known as Ursula the shepherdess and began the dance. He was a graceful dancer and commanded all the unusual steps. After they had danced wildly with each other for a time, they veered from the platform, which had marked off the dance space and swirled ever farther and farther away. From the Linden tree across the Sittich square and on down to the Laibach River, where he in the presence of many seamen, grabbed the waist of his partner and jumped into the splashing waters. Both disappeared before their very eyes.

The linden tree stood until 1638, when it had to be chopped down because of age.


Fairy Tale Factum:
St. Vitus is the patron saint of dancers for allegedly his powers included the ability to alleviate Tanzwut or hysterical dancing mania. The symptoms included frenzied leaping and swirling, even uncontrollable gyrations. Folk tradition often frowns on dancing and music, for it seems these two pastimes inevitably led to the unhinging of village youth. Unfortunately in this story the impudent Ursula could not be rescued by St. Vitus. Perhaps his cult had not yet been sufficiently established in Laibach or had already been diminished after the Reformation. Of interest in this saga is the description of a rather romanticized peasant life, with al fresco dancing, eating and celebrating at the height of summer on the village green. Two characteristics described in this tale can still be found today in many towns throughout Europe: the linden (or lime) tree and the fountain on the square.


According to folk tradition it was believed that a Wasserman (or Nix) held fast to the souls of the drowned in his underwater dwelling. Varying accounts describe him as having either a beautiful form or an ugly and terrible countenance. Like dancing, the church uniformly frowned upon these spirits and equated them with the diabolical and dangerous. Folk tradition, however, preserves a certain amount of awe and reverence for them.


Translation: Copyright FairyTaleChannel.org
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