Killing the Wild Man and Burying Demon Winter in Fairy Tales

In my last two blog posts I have tried to describe the connection between the folk customs of Shrovetide or Carnival and European fairy tales and saga.

Some of the very earliest historical references to dancing concern Shrovetide processions, where the dancers are described as wearing clothing “torn to bits”.   (See Remnants of Ancient Dance Found in Fairy Tales).

It is possible that this phrase was not pejorative in its original usage, but only a simple observation: the dancers wore torn clothing. Their garments might have become ripped as a result of their wild gesticulations or they may have purposely put on tattered clothing to give themselves a wild appearance, especially if the performers were taking on the role of wild man or wild woman (See Dark Nights of the Fairy Tale: the Wild Man and Wild Woman).  In European tales and saga the phrase “torn to bits” has survived, and is primarily used in conjunction with all manner of fairy tale dancers. In the versions of the tales we now have, the dancing has become something quite unnatural. (See The Farmers of Kolbeck Dance on Christmas Eve).

There are other references to ancient carnival traditions in fairy tales, but when taken out of their cultural context, they are difficult to recognize.  The wild man and wild woman, who first appeared at the end of November or beginning of December as wintry demons, are now ritually killed during the carnival celebration. This rite coincides with the first inklings of spring. But the first signs of springtime are usually observed on different days each year with broad regional variations. That is probably why the carnival tradition of killing the wild man could happen any time between February and April in the different areas of Europe. The first budding of a certain tree or the arrival of a migratory bird might have been the original trigger of the celebration.  In the 18^th century in parts of Italy, France and Austria, a death certificate was even issued. Descriptions of these demonic beings abound in Grimm’s Saga,, but other references are also of interest. According to Grimm, these creatures are primarily characterized by their keen sense of smell enabling the wild man to sense the approach of human flesh.  These forest beings often cry “I smell the blood of man approaching!” or “The scent of human flesh is in the air!” We find this supernatural sense of smell  in fairy tales as disparate as the German Hansel and Gretel (the witch, Grimm), the English Jack in the Beanstalk (the giant) and the French Petit Poucet (the ogre, Perrault).

Another popular carnival character is the harlequin.  Said to be a black-faced emissary of the devil, and a frequent character in French passion plays, the harlequin was said to chase damned souls through the forest.  The harlequin is usually an athletic dancer and scholars have tied him to Woton (or Odin), also known as the Wild Huntsman. He is a popular character in many Grimm’s sagas, one example being The Wee Mossy Wife (Grimm’s Saga No. 47). There is also a harlequin-like Woton character in The Pied Piper of Hamelin (Grimm’s Saga 245) June 29, 2008, who wears the traditional parti-colored coat. The Pied Piper's Wotoness has been explored on this website in Reading the Pied Piper.

Further Links of Interest:

Killing the Straw Bear or Wild Man:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Straw_bear_%28German_traditional_character%29

Killing Winter in Romania:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/neological/5500726278/

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 15^th – 17^th 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.

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 7^th 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.

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.

The Alchemy of Love in Lohengrin

The Alchemy of Love 

 “An opera about an archetypal myth presented as a medieval fairy tale,” so describes William Berger the opera Lohengrin in his book Wagner without Fear.  I would prefer to say that both the opera and the German saga are most like a medieval romance. The story does not really fulfill the criteria of a fairy tale, as defined by Grimm, and that is why it is included in the German Saga collection (and not in the Grimm fairy tale collection).

Lohengrin is a hero knight with all the attributes found in medieval romance: his birth and origin are shrouded in mystery, his identity unknown, his actions have a redemptive quality, supernatural elements are employed to heighten plot development, and so on.  Unlike German fairy tales, this story has a psychological dimension that leaps to the fore. These characters are imbued with real emotion and inner life. And yet there is still a certain amount of fairy tale quirkiness. When Lohengrin must depart from his true love, Elsam, he presents her with a gift. It is a little finger, the very same that his mother had given him. No other explanation is provided and the reader is certainly not expecting a little finger as parting memento. Fairy tale meaning is often found in the minutiae. So how is the reader to understand this? In keeping with the religious undertones of the story, I can only imagine that the gift was a relic, or, within a pagan context, it might have been an amulet-bone or charm imparting protection to the owner. 

Jakob Grimm surmises that there were probably many early Frankish, Friesen and Saxon tales circulating in Germany about the swan knight. The details are mostly the same: a strange slumbering hero arrives in a boat pulled by a swan. This often occurs in a moment when the country (or  later, a maiden) is in dire distress. This otherworldly hero is divine, functioning both as a god and as a god-given-gift to mankind. In his role as warrior, he acts as the military leader of a nation. In his role as god, there are certain mysteries and taboos surrounding his earthly intercessions that mortals can’t fully appreciate.  In the earliest versions his real value for the community lay in his martial skills. But it was probably in the Middle Ages when the story mutated into a love story,  examining the nature of love, how one falls in love, its transitory qualities and its destruction by doubt and despair.  

In the opening scene of the saga, the fog separates and a knight emerges. The person he encounters is laden with anguish and overcome with Angst. In this story vulnerability or an altered state are prerequisites for experiencing true love. But once recognized, love has the miraculous power of transformation. Revelation comes like a bolt from the blue but is fleeting.  While the intensity of love is short-lived, its  memory can either sustain or destroy. In Lohengrin , the characters are profoundly altered by their encounter with the hero/god.

The Opera is now playing in Chicago at the Lyric Opera. Go see it if you can!

Also a very good read, especially if you have avoided opera up to now: Wagner without Fear by William Berger, Vintage Books/Random House