My Mum, Frau Holle, and the Art of Ageing Well

My friend and fairy tale lover, Sita Brand, wrote this lovely essay to commemorate her mother's 100th birthday.  It's filled with wisdom for all of us.  Please take the time to read.

https://sitabrand.substack.com/p/my-mum-frau-holle-and-the-art-of

 

"The Three Sisters and the Glass Heart" - A Russian Fairytale

 

 H.R. Millar, illus. The Strand Magazine, 1894. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

THERE was once a King and Queen who had three beautiful daughters, and the organism of these three Princesses was remarkable for their each being furnished with a heart of glass.

“Children! Children!” said the Queen, when the Princesses were still small, “Whatever you do, take care of your hearts, for they are of fragile make.”

The children therefore tried to be very careful, and for some time all went well, and the hearts remained unbroken.

But one day the eldest girl, who was leaning out of the window, looking down into the garden below, noticed a little bee which was buzzing busily around some flowers. The little creature interested her so much that she leaned out farther, so as to be able to watch it more closely, when suddenly — smash! — there came a sound of broken glass! The young Princess had crushed her heart against the windowsill, and so, alas! The poor girl expired.

After this exceedingly sad accident the other two sisters were still more careful about their hearts.

Sometime after the death of the Princess, the second daughter very thoughtless drank a cup of rather hot coffee, and when she had finished it something was suddenly heard to crack, and she fell back, fainting, into an armchair. The sound on this occasion, however, was not so loud as on the first. The Queen rushed to where the Princess lay, and, in examining her, found, to her great delight, that the heart was only slightly cracked, and not broken, and that her daughter was still alive.

“What are we to do with our daughter?” said the King to the Queen, “for although the injury to her heart amounts only to a crack at present, this may increase to a decided fracture.”

But the Princess begged them not to worry about her.

“For you know, said she, “it’s the cracked pitcher that goes oftenest to the well.”

Meanwhile the youngest daughter grew up and became a most beautiful as well as a most remarkably clever girl; and many a handsome and wealthy prince from distant lands came to ask for her fair hand. But the old King did not forget the bitter experiences he had had with his two elder girls.

“I have only one daughter left with a whole heart, and hers is also of glass. Therefore, if I give her in marriage to anyone, it must be to a king who is at the same time a glazier, and who understands how to treat an article so fragile; so that, in case of accidents, he would know how to rivet the cracks.”

Unfortunately, none of the young princes and nobles who had come as suitors to the Princess knew anything at all about how to rivet broken glass, and were none of them glaziers by profession, so they had to return to their native lands miserable and disappointed lovers.

Among the royal pages in the palace was one whose term as page was shortly to expire. He had still to carry the trains of the youngest Princess three times, and after that he was to be promoted to a full-blown courtier.

On the first occasion when the page had to carry the young Princess’s train, she glanced at him, and as their eyes met, she blushed. When next he carried her train, she waved her hand to him at parting, and the unfortunate youth was unable to sleep the whole of that night in consequence!

The third time when the young fellow bore the Princess’s train, the King came forward to meet them halfway, and dismissed the page, saying —

“You have done your duty now, young man, and you may go. I thank you, and have also to congratulate you on your promotion.”

With that the King turned and walked away, whilst the Princess bent forward to where the page stood, and said, —

“You carried my train so beautifully — better than anyone else! Oh, why are you not a king and a glazier?”

The unfortunate young man felt so confused, as well as delighted, that he was unable to utter a word in reply. He managed, however, to make a very graceful and polite bow. When the Princess had left him, he ran as hard as ever he could to the nearest glazier and asked him whether he was in need of a foreman.

“Yes,” replied the other; “but you will have to work four years with me before you can be foreman. First you must be a sort of errand boy, and go to the baker’s to fetch me my bread; and also look after my children, wash them, and dress them. Secondly, you must learn how to putty the cracks; thirdly, you will have to learn how to cut the glass and fix in windows; and after that, in the fourth year, you shall be my foreman.”

The page thought this would take rather too long, so he asked the glazier whether he could not possibly begin with cutting the glass and fixing windows, and leave out the r est, so as to get on quicker. But the glazier shook his head and assured the young fellow that every good glazier had to begin his career from the beginning, or he could never be clever. So, the page was obliged to reconcile himself to his fate.

The whole of the first year the unfortunate young courtier spent his time running to the baker’s for bread for his master, and in washing and dressing the children. In the second year he did nothing but stop cracks with putty. In the third year he learnt how to cut glass and fix windows, and at last, at the commencement of the fourth year, he was made foreman.

After having been foreman for a whole year, he took leave of his master; and, dressing himself up once more in his court dress, he walked along the roads in deep thought, wondering how he could possibly become a king. As he was walking on a man came towards him, and, seeing that the young courtier was in deep thought, he stopped and asked him whether he had lost anything.

“Well, I don’t know whether I have exactly lost anything; but at any rate I cannot find what I want.”

“And what is that?”

“A kingdom. I am wondering how on earth I can become a king.”

“Well, if you had been a glazier,” said the stranger, “I might have helped you.”

“That is just exactly what I am!” exclaimed the other. “I have only lately been foreman to a glazier!”

“Then you have nothing to fear. You are no doubt aware that our King decided some time ago to give his youngest daughter in marriage to a glazier who was to be at the same time a king or, at any rate, a prince; but, as they have been unsuccessful in finding such a person, the King has been reluctantly obliged to modify his demands by adding two other conditions. The bridegroom must in any case be a glazier, that of course goes without saying.”

“But what are the two conditions?” asked the young courtier excitedly.

“The first condition is that he should please the Princess; and the second is that he should be a nobleman by birth. There have already been a great number of glaziers applying at the palace, but not one of them took the Princess’s fancy, and all of them had coarse, rough hands like those of the commonest glazier.”

When our young courtier heard these words, he jumped three times about a yard above the road for joy, and then, turning round, ran helter-skelter back to the town, and presented himself at the palace in less than no time!

The King at once ordered the Princess to be called, and when she arrived, he asked her whether this young glazier took her fancy.

The Princess glanced at the young man, and, recognizing him at once, she blushed, and said: “Oh, yes!”

The King ordered the young fellow to take off his gloves and show his hands, so that they should know whether he was of noble birth. However, the Princess said that it was quite unnecessary for the young man to do anything of the kind, as she felt perfectly certain that there was no doubt whatever about his being of noble birth, and that his hands, she was sure, would be as white as those of a prince.

So they were married; and, as the young Princess’s husband was a glazier by profession, as well as a nobleman by birth, he understood how to treat a heart so delicate and fragile as hers; therefore, she lived blissfully to the end of her days without any accident happening.

The King’s second daughter, with the cracked heart, had the pleasure of being an aunt, and a very excellent aunt she made too! She taught the little Princess to read and write, and make dresses for her dolls; she also took a great interest in the little Prince’s lessons, and when he knew them well and had good marks, like a good little boy, then she would praise him and make him all sorts of pretty presents, and he would leave her looking red and rosy, and flushed with delight. When, on the contrary, he did not know his lessons, and his marks were anything but good, then she would be very different, and he would leave her looking also very red and rosy, very flushed, but not with delight.

This Princess lived to a very old age, notwithstanding that her heart was cracked; and if anyone marveled at her living so long, she would answer them, as she had done her parents once before, —

“Remember, ‘It’s the cracked pitcher that goes oftenest to the well.”

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This is such an interesting story.  In most folktales, we see three princes who are set on various quests.  Usually, it is the youngest who prevails as the hero.  In this story, however, we focus on three princesses and one prince wannabe.  It’s not a story of how they manage a quest but rather on how their character serves them.  Princes are most often the ones that go on the “hero’s journey” in fairy tales.   The youngest prince is the most unlikely one to complete the task but is found to be pure of heart and worthy. Three is the number for completion so having three tasks or three brothers is inevitable in folktales. 

In this story, there are three princess sisters who were “furnished” with hearts of glass.  Queens often give birth to something unusual.  It may be monstrous like the lindworm or unusual like Tatterhood.  When it happens, it is ALWAYS the Queen’s fault.  Well, maybe it isn’t, but that’s how the story is presented. She may have been infertile, disobedient or unfaithful.  She may have tried to solve her problem with magic and magic always has a price to pay.  We simply don’t know why three sisters (who are not twins) were each furnished with a glass heart. 

Did that word “furnish” stick with you, like it did with me? Furnished means equipped or provided. The sisters were equipped or provided with a glass heart.  Just as someone would today with a heart transplant.  But this story was told WAY before heart transplants. Does that mean the Queen did not give birth to them? Something is surely amiss.  There is a backstory here but this teller doesn’t share it.   

Let’s also pause for a moment to reflect on the term “glass heart.”  What does this symbolize? The heart symbolizes our feeling nature; for love, charity and compassion.  It can also represent moral courage, truth and sincerity.  It represents what is soulful.  Glass is translucent and transparent.  It represents beauty, purity and delicacy while also being extremely fragil. With a glass heart there is the potential for love and beauty. There is the likelihood of transparency but there is little resilience and stamina to face life’s ups and downs. It remains fragile.

The Queen warns the girls to take care of their hearts, and they tried.  They did well for some time, and then life happened (as it always does). The eldest princess pressed too hard against the window ledge, broke her heart and died.  How did this happen?  Ah, it’s the oldest sin of any female character: curiosity.  Women are seen as simply too curious.  It’s the reason Eve caused the downfall of all humanity and it’s why Pandora let lose all the evils into the world. Women can’t be trusted you see.  Why can’t you women just stop being so curious, the stories seem to say?  Only we can’t, and we shouldn’t.  We simply don’t want to stop learning and growing and neither did the oldest princess.  She was curious and wanted to know more about a bee pollinating some flowers. 

What’s the warning here?  A princess must not be too curious.  She needs to be pretty, not athletic or smart.  But the character trait that brought her to her death was recklessness – that is, leaning out of a window too far.  At least that’s how we’d usually identify it for an adult.   It’s not how we’d identify it if we were talking about a child, a child who might not know that they could fall out of a window and die.  Perhaps this princess, like Rapunzel, was so protected that she had no real knowledge of how the world worked.  In that case, the King and Queen should be faulted here.

As you might expect this was a bit of a wakeup call for the two remaining sisters.  They took special care to protect themselves for a while.  And then, the second princess “very thoughtlessly drank” a cup of hot coffee and cracked her heart.  Now breaking your heart when you drink a hot beverage is not thoughtless.  Perhaps drinking hot coffee and then iced tea might cause a crack, but I still think it’s unexpected. Now there are lots of ways we can break a heart that is expected.  We can lose a job, fail to achieve a dream, lose someone we love, become sick, or get a divorce.  But the unexpected?  How can you plan that? Still, it was only a crack.  The second princess was alive.  Naturally, the King and Queen wanted to protect her even more for they knew (or thought they knew) that the crack might grow.  But the Princess was resilient and asked them not to worry.  She replied to their concern with a proverb, “It’s the cracked pitcher that goes oftenest to the well.”

The third princess was the most beautiful and the smartest of the three.  Many princes came for her hand, but the king turned them away saying he would only marry them to a kingly glazier.   A glazier is the one who puts stained glass windows together.  His skills would include cutting the glass, and piecing it together with lead came or channels, inserting the glass and keeping it firm with putty. A glazier would know how to repair glass too.  It makes you wonder why the king doesn’t try to find a glazier for his second daughter.  None of the princes met these requirements so they returned home.

There was in the palace a royal page who had a crush on the princess.  He is the unlikely hero of the story.  His term as a page was ending and he was to advance into being a courtier.  The 3^rd princess was aware of him for he had carried her train 3 times. It seems she had a crush on him too.  But he was promoted.  Before he left, she sighed, “Oh, why are you not a king and a glazier.”  Don’t you love how she set’s things in motion?  She gives him a sign.

Now, he didn’t know what to do with the sign because he was neither a king nor a glazier.  But after some thought he decided to tackle the easier of the two.  He sought out a glazier and asked if he could apprentice.  The glazier said it takes four years to become the foreman.  The first year he’ll be an errand boy.  The second year he’ll learn how to putty cracks.  The third year he’ll learn to cut glass and place it in the window.  It is only after the fourth year; the page would become a foreman.  The page tried to convince the glazier to speed up the process, but he refused saying it takes time to become clever. And so, the page began his long apprenticeship with the princess as his ultimate goal.   The story says that wanting someone isn’t enough to make it happen.  Not in this situation.  It takes time to develop the skills needed to protect and mend the heart of a princess. The same might be said for becoming an ideal spouse, one who has the necessary age, knowledge and experience.

So, four years have passed, and the young courtier does as he is told and follows the program.  After he was foreman for a year, he left dressed in his court clothes and pondered how he might become a king.  On the road he meets a courtier who tells him that the king has reduced the requirements needed to marry the princess.  You see, there were no kings or princes with the necessary credentials and the king was forced to modify his conditions.  The candidate now must first be a glazier, the princess must like him, and he must also be a nobleman by birth.  Excited upon hearing the news, the page journeys to the palace.  The princess remembers him and gives her assent. Now he must prove his nobility by taking off his gloves and showing soft uncalloused hands. There is such hypocrisy in that requirement for the king wants someone who has the knowledge of the glazier but not the experience.  Those with skill bear the mark of it on their hands - cuts  and scars from the glass, and skin blackened from the lead.

But before this happened, the princess (who understood these things) tells her father it is unnecessary to see his hands for she is sure they are princely white.  (I know, I know, I know, I don’t like that part either.  Why did they have to be princely white?  Why not just soft and smooth?)  Anyway, they marry, and he was the perfect choice for her husband.  He understood how “to treat a heart so delicate and fragile as hers.”   And she lived blissfully to the end of her days.  Note, the story doesn’t say it was a long life, only that it was a blissful life.

What do you think about that fairy tale idea?  The perfect spouse is the one who becomes a fortress protecting us from pain and sorrow.  Should sorrow come he would know how to put our broken heart back together.  That’s really quite lovely isn’t it?  But I can’t just help but wonder if the new prince lived his life blissfully or if he spent his life walking on eggshells around her.  And I wonder if a blissful life is as good as a full or meaningful life.

The King’s second daughter never married and even though she had a cracked heart she lived her life joyfully.   She was an ever-present aunt who played with her nieces and nephews teaching them to read and write, making clothes for their dolls and encouraging their academic success.  She would both praise and punish them.  She lived to a very old age notwithstanding that her heart was cracked.  People marveled that she lived so long, much longer in fact than her fragile and overly protected sister.  The second daughter surely became a wise old crone.   “Remember,” she said, “it’s the cracked pitcher that goes oftenest to the well.”  

The phrase "It's a cracked pitcher that goes oftenest to the well." means that those with difficulties or shortcomings are often the ones who endure the longest when facing challenges.  But I think it means even more than that.  For you see, no one ever brings the good china to the well.  No one uses the best pitcher to carry water.  But a cracked pitcher can still hold water and should you drop it or lose it, no matter.

The well symbolizes life sustaining water and the depth of the unconscious. The second daughter didn’t need a glazier husband because she learned how to mend her heart herself.  And rather than lock herself away, she lived life to the fullest. She was able to go to the well time and again to refill her life with love, joy and meaning.  

And that is the wisest message of all.  For each of us walks the earth with cracked hearts inside and glaziers nowhere in sight. We are the ones who must mend and tend our disappointments and heart aches, becoming brave and resilient to face what is to come and to take from life the beauty and joy there is.

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The Golden Fairy Book, comprising stories by Moritz Jokai, George Sand, M. Lermontov, Edouard Laboulaye, Xavier Marmier, Émile Souvestre, M. P. Granal, Daniel Dare, Voltaire, Gonzalo Fernandez Francoso, Alexander Dumas, and others; with 110 illustrations by H. R. Millar; D. Appleton & Company, 1894; pp. 195-206.

 

The Bride of Prince Lindworm - More on the Danish Folktale

 

"She Saw the Lindworm for the First Time as He Came In and Stood by Her Side,"

 Kay Nielsen (1922).

Let's continue our discussion of the Danish folktale, "Prince Lindworm." The text of the folktale is found in the previous post, but there is much more to share.  This story is filled with metaphors and symbols.  It can be viewed in many ways.  That fact alone emphasizes the power of folktales to bring understanding and healing to issues we deal with today.

This is one of those stories we could talk about all day.  Many people have thought about it, written about it, and reflected on it.  Much of our discussion, however, comes from an article written by Tom Pettitt entitled “King Serpent (Kong Lindorm) A Wondertale from Danish Folk Tradition.” Pettitt provides multiple interpretations for those interested in a further analysis of the story. We’ll start with a psychological perspective (both the Freudian and Jungian views).  We’ll also examine the story with a folkloric and gender lens. 

Psychological: Freud

Let’s start with the elephant in the room and talk about Sigmund Freud.  Now, if you’ve been listening to me for a while, you should know that I have little patience for Freud’s mono-thematic version of psychology.  And it goes without saying that his work has done lots of damage to women culturally throughout the years.  Nevertheless, in a psychoanalytic interpretation, the Lindworm would obviously be seen as the penis.  The Lindworm’s devouring of young women on their wedding night has a sexual connotation that even feminists would agree with. 

Freudians might also see the lindworm as symbolizing a conflict between the id and the superego.  The id is the primal part of our personality, concerned with sexual pleasure and in need of instant gratification.  The superego equates to our conscience.

Another Freudian way to look at this story is through the Oedipus complex.  This is a theory in which a child experiences unconscious sexual desires for the opposite-sex parent and rivalry with the same-sex parent.  Following this theory, the old woman who helped the Queen is her mother.  She arrives because the Lindworm is in love with his mother, making the quest of the young woman a quest to make him love her instead. I know it’s more than a bit convoluted and a bit tedious to me.  The bottom line is, to Freud, it’s always the mother’s fault.

Psychology - Jung 

In Jungian fairytale analysis, there are also numerous interpretations.
The lindworm might be seen as the shadow twin, the one holding all the repressed thoughts and feelings. Integrating the shadow into the Self is essential to personal growth.  From another perspective, the lindworm could be seen as merging with the anima on the wedding night. The anima, according to Carl Jung, is the feminine aspect of a man's unconscious, representing his inner woman and emotional life.

Jungian analyst Marie Louise Von Franz writes about this story in her book “The Psychological Meaning of Redemption Motifs in Fairytales.” She sees the lindworm as a hermaphrodite wrapped in “feminine” dragon skin.  That interpretation seems to stretch things quite a bit (no pun intended). She writes, “Prince LIndworm is also the man surrounded by the woman, but he is in the form of a lump of bleeding flesh surrounded by a dragon skin, a regressive form of the union of the opposites.”  That argument is somewhat like my anima one, but her argument is broader.  Von Franz describes this transformation in more spiritual terms, discussing the Bride of Christ, Buddha, harems, and marriage. She goes off quite a bit, but I do like her idea that the story has to do with the unfolding of the Self.  In some way, she sees the birth of the lindworm as the birth of a divine child. She writes, “If you observe the symbolism of the Self as it manifests in an individual, you will see that it is in a state of constant change.  It sheds certain aspects and perpetually renews itself.” She continues, “the divine being is buried and has to be extracted from destructive matter.“  “[I]f there is a lingering malaise within yourself, you may be quite sure that you have not taken off enough shirts and dragon skins and have not reached the naked truth.” I think from a metaphoric perspective, this is a good one to ponder.

Both the Freudians and Von Franz are fixated on the sexual element of the story, but sadly only from the Lindworm’s perspective. What about the young woman protagonist?  This is her story, too.  She’s not just a figure to be sacrificed for the individuation of the lindworm.  She is the hero.

Folklore

So, let’s look at this story from a more common perspective.  That is how the tale is seen within folklore, remembering that folklore is the knowledge, culture and beliefs of people at a particular point in time. 

In a Socioeconomic view, we would explore the class differences, especially the way the peasants continue to save the nobles in this story.  This is a common theme in folktales.  It’s a question  as to who has the greater wisdom and knowledge - aristocracy or peasantry. We also see in this story an unlikely hero. It’s not the handsome prince.  It’s not the King and Queen. It’s a young woman from the peasant class who saves the day.

In fairy tales, it is common for royal women to give birth to unusual babies.  They are either too small, too large, or monstrous.  She might give birth to a plant or animal.  These stories also address the fear, shame, and sadness of infertility and how this burden is most often borne by the woman alone. She may be cast aside. Sometimes she loses her head (especially if she is the wife of Henry VIII!). Most often, she is blamed for the infertility and for any birth defects.  In this environment, it’s understandable for the queen to go off on her own to find a solution, and understandable that she keeps the existence of the lindworm secret.

The removal of skin is another standard motif for an enchanted husband.  “In East of the Sun West of the Moon,” the husband bear becomes a man at night.  In “Hans My Hedgehog,” he removes his skin to become a handsome man.  Marriage in such circumstances does not come easily, and there are often one or more false starts or brides needed.  In our story, we follow the three rule, so it is the third young woman who succeeds.  How does she do so?  By following the instructions of the old woman.  The two princesses before her entered their wedding night without knowing what was meant to come.  That was very common in even my mother’s generation.  Women were told little about sexuality.  The old woman tells her to clothe herself in multiple pure white shifts.  She is covering herself in modesty, virginity and chastity.  Each time he asks her to remove a garment, she asks him to remove his skin. The only way to manage his unbridled passion is by covering her nakedness.

In one translation, the Lindworm is said to split his wife apart.  This depicts rape more than a consummation of the wedding vows.  He devours his partner.  We see in Prince Lindworm a rage, disrespect, and violence found in the worst of men. He is the one who lies, for he has a forked tongue. He is a beast. In medieval times, the royal court waited outside the bedroom doors on the wedding night. Checking the sheets to be sure the wedding was consummated.   

Why did the first two young women die when the last one didn’t?  You might say they didn’t have proper guidance. Which was true.  The first two brides were princesses who lived insular lives. They were waited on and treated with respect.  They expected admiration and kindness from their husband even though they knew nothing about him except that he was of royal blood. The final bride had no such upbringing.  She was a child of nature, poor and taught to work and act.  She knew to respect her elders, so when the old woman told her what to do, she followed the instructions.  She had him remove his skin, then she beat him with switches dipped in lye.  She bathed him in milk and held him close.

In both parts of the story, the transformation comes through milk, a symbol of purity and nurturing.  In the days of this story, infants only survived through a “mother’s milk.”  It represents the continuing bond between mother and child.  At its best it represents unconditional love.  When your mother is the queen, however, she farms you out to wet nurses.  In this case, she even puts her lindworm son in a hole.  He was not nursed.  The lindworm only receives milk through his new bride’s milk bath. There is a healing in a milk bath. The lindworm must be reborn.  After the beating, with the removal of all his skin, he needs the sustenance of milk just as a baby does to live.  In Part 2 of the story, we see the new queen mother nursing two king birds.  It’s an odd development.  Her children have been sent away, and yet she still needs to nurse.  This seems to bring the birds to her.  In each case, the milk is transformative, changing what’s monstrous and what’s bird into human form. 

The lindworm is truly an abomination.  He is unloved and cast out.  But how does that resolve in folktales? In so many stories we see the need for the beast to be loved for who he is.  "Beauty and the Beast" comes to mind.  That motif is also present here although we don’t understand his condition as being a curse.  When the young woman is able to hold him, she breaks the spell and transforms the lindworm to his human form.  We don’t know that the young woman was able to love him then, but she was able to do what was required in the moment.  She was able to follow instructions, even the one most challenging - holding his flesh in her arms. Transformation here is achieved through consummation.   

The question is can anyone love another to wholeness. Doesn’t the lindworm have to do this work himself?  The story says “No”; others can help us to achieve authenticity, growth, and individuation. This  can be achieved through out relationships. In Jungian terms, the Self is relational.  Individuation is dependent upon relationships with others.  Jung went so far as to say: “The self is relatedness… The self only exists inasmuch as you appear.  Not that you are, but that you do the self.  The self appears in your deeds and deeds always mean relationship.” (Jung 1935-39, p. 73)

Gender/Feminist

Another way to look at a story is through gender analysis.  In this technique, the female characters in the story are explored to discover how they are viewed and treated.  We examine the power structure to see if the patriarchal system guides the tale.  Here we see three brides forced into a marriage by their fathers.  They are traded like any other commodity and violence perpetrated against them through rape and non-consensual sexual consummation.  Pettitt writes, “The third bride survives thanks to the intervention of a wise-woman knowledgeable in the workings of supernatural factors in personal relationships, and the successful application of her procedures (deploying humble domestic materials) is but one manifestation of an unusually strong female counterforce at work in the tale.”  I would suggest that even though the title of the story is “Prince Lindworm,” the unnamed young woman is the hero protagonist.  To look at it in any other way is dismissive. 

That's enough discussion for now.  If you are interested in how this crone sees the story, check out my podcast of the same name.  I continue this discussion there. 

You can access the podcast from this website or you can find it anywhere you listen to podcasts at the "Wise Crone Cottage."