"The Old Woman and the Tiger" - a Chinese folk tale, retold by Mary Hemingway

 

In this story, we see a different side of the wise crone archetype. No longer a side character, she is now the protagonist.  And rather than serving as the “helper,” this old woman puts herself first. She shows us that one person can make a difference and achieve justice to boot. It’s an old message but especially relevant today.

In the village of Gwai-lin-di, between the curve of the Yellow River and the Great Wall of China there lived a poor old widow woman. Every day her only son went up into the mountains behind the village and gathered faggots from the hillsides and brought them home to his mother. She would exchange some of the faggots with her neighbors for a few handfuls of millet to cook in a pot, and so from day to day they just got by.

But one day, while her son was up in the mountains gathering faggots, an enormous tiger leaped out of the bushes and ate him up. Some other boys from the village who were gathering faggots nearby ran back to the village and knocked on the door of his mother's house crying, "Old woman, old woman, a terrible tiger has eaten up your son!"

The old woman was very indignant because now that she had no son to gather faggots for her, how could she get along from day to day? She would have no millet to cook in the pot, and no faggots to burn under it. So, she determined to see that justice was done and the tiger punished.

Seizing her stick in her hand, she hobbled straight to the headman of the village. She shook her stick under his nose and cried angrily. "A tiger from the mountains has eaten up my only son, and now how can I get along from day to day? There will be no millet to cook in the pot, and no faggots to burn under it. I demand that you capture this tiger and punish him, so that justice may be done!"

But the headman of the village replied, "The tiger ate up your son in the mountains behind the village, and I have no jurisdiction outside the village. There is nothing I can do about it. So, old woman, I would advise you to go quietly home."

But the old woman did not go quietly home. She took her stick in her hand, and she hobbled along the dusty road until she came to the city of Funjo. There she went to the house of the magistrate of the city, and she shook her stick under the magistrate's nose and cried angrily, "A tiget from the mountains behind the village of Gwai-lin-di has eaten up my only son, and now how can I get along from day to day? There will be no millet to cook in the pot, and no faggots to burn under it. I demand that you capture this tiger and punish him, so that justice may be done!"

The magistrate of the city of Funjo replied, "The tiger ate up your son outside the city limits of Funjo, so I have no authority over him. There is nothing I can do about it. So, old woman, I would advise you to go quietly home."

But the old woman did not go quietly home. She took her stick in her hand, and she hobbled and bobbled along the dusty road until she came to the city of Tai-yuan-fu, the capital of the province of Shansi.

There she went to the palace of the governor of the province, but the gates were shut, and no one would let the old woman in. So, she banged on the gates with her stick, and she shouted and scolded so long and so loudly that finally the governor inside the palace heard the noise. He sent his servants running to find out what was making such a terrible racket outside the palace gets. They returned with the little old woman.

She shook her stick under the governor's nose and cried angrily, "A tiger from the mountains outside the village of Gwai-lin-di has eaten up my only son, and now how can I get along from day to day? There will be no millet to cook in the pot, and no faggots to burn under it. I demand that you capture the tiger and punish him, so that justice may be done!"

Now the governor of Shansi at the time was a kind and a just man, and he replied, "Venerable old woman, this seems to me to be a veery reasonable request. Certainly, if justice is to be maintained in my province, this tiger must be punished.

So he sent a score of his best hunters into the mountains behind the village of Gwai-lin-di, and they captured the tiger, and bound him heavily with ropes and loaded him onto a cart. Then they dragged him to the Court of Justice in the city of Tai-yuan-fu. And a great crowd of people followed along behind to see the tiger brought to justice.

The governor, dressed in his finest purple silk robes, sat in the court of Justice to pass sentence on the tiger. When the tiger had been brought before him, the governor stepped forward and said:

"Tiger, it has been proved by many witnesses that you ate up the only son of this poor old widow woman while he was in the mountains gathering faggots for his mother, and now she is left alone in the world to starve. The punishment for murder is death. Therefore, Tiger, I sentence you to be dragged to the East Gate of the city, there to have the head chopped from your shoulders with a sharp ax for the perpetration of this miserable crime. You have heard the sentence, Tiger. Have you anything to say for yourself?"

"Only this," replied the tiger. "I am sorry now that I ate this woman's son, though I was very hungry at the time. Still, if I had known that he was the only son of his mother and she a poor widow, I would certainly never have done it. Nevertheless, I do not see that justice will be served by beheading me. It will not bring back the old woman's son, and it will not leave her any better off than she was before. And of course I will not like it at all. I have a better suggestion. If you will spare my life, I myself will be a son to her, for as long as she shall live. Every day I will bring faggots to her. Every day I will bring her deer, or a rabbit, or a fat pheasant for the pot. I will be indeed a dutiful son to her, a truly filial tiger."

"This suggestion sounds to me like a very reasonable one," said the governor thoughtfully, stroking his chin. "However, the old woman must agree to it. Venerable old woman, if this tiger will promise to be a dutiful son to you, and provide for you handsomely, for as long as you shall live, will you consent to adopt him for your son?"

"He looks to me like a very honest tiger," replied the old woman. "If he will swear by the souls of his ancestors that he will do all that he has promised I shall be content to adopt him for my son."

"Do you swear by the souls of your ancestors to do all that you have promised, and to be a good and dutiful son to this old woman, for as long as she shall live?" asked the governor.

The tiger raised his right paw, and replied solemnly, "I do."

So the governor ordered the tiger unbound, and the little old woman took her stick in her hand, and led the tiger back to the village of Gwai-lin-di. And all the villagers came out of their houses, and went down the road to meet them. The old woman introduced them all to the tiger by name, and they all said that they were very glad to meet him—in a social way.

Then the tiger immediately bounded up into the mountains and returned with a perfectly enormous bundle of faggots, which he dumped by the old woman's door with a thud that shook the whole house. Then he went hunting and returned with a freshly killed deer. The old woman invited all her neighbors in to help her skin and cook the deer, and there was a great feast in honor of the dutiful tiger.

And every day after that, the tiger brought plenty of faggots and fresh meat for the old woman, so that there was always a good fire under the pot and a good meal cooking in it. And the old woman had enough left over to trade for millet or blue cloth or whatever else her heart desired. And she lived in plenty and happiness for much longer than anyone would have thought possible.

Then one morning the tiger bounded up to the old woman's door with a fine fat pheasant for the pot and heard a great sound of weeping and wailing inside the house. And the neighbor women came to the door and said "Tiger, tiger, your mother is dead." The tiger raised his head and gave a great howl of sorrow and grief.

On the day of the old woman's funeral, the tiger walked in front of the procession with a white mourning band around his head. After the funeral, the tiger lay down beside the old woman's grave with his head on his paws, and for three whole days and nights he neither ate nor drank nor slept. At the end of that time, he arose and ran rapidly around the grave three times. Then with a tremendous roar he bounded off up into the mountains and was never again seen by anyone in the village of Gwai-lin-di.

I found this story at Jeff Kaufman’s website.  The story was retold by his great grandmother who grew up in northern China. It was published here: Mary Hemingway, “The Old Woman and the Tiger,” vol. XI, no. 9 Story Parade (Sept. 1946): 11-14. Thanks to Jeff for his permission to share.

 

"Frau Trude" - A Grimm Brothers' Tale

 

Frau Trude was recorded in the 1837 version of Grimm’s Children's and Household Tales. The story is classified as ATU Tale Type 334, Household of the Witch, and motif G11.3.3, Cannibal Witch. The source of the story was a poem by Meier Teddy entitled "Klein Bäschen und Frau Trude, Ammenmärchen," published in Frauentaschenbuch (1823), p. 360.

There are many interpretations for such a short story, from cautionary to initiatory to transformative.  Scholar Kay Stone writes in the book Burning Brightly:  “This short tale… illustrates how a single text is, in fact, a constantly emerging story.  Tellers who compose and recompose orally are aware of the interesting twists and turns a story takes as they continue to tell it.  From our experiences with written literature, we are accustomed to expect a single authoritative text created by one named author.  Oral tales… are the result of countless variant texts, not only by different authors (every teller is the author of their story) but also by the same text told and retold by the same teller since each performance is unique.  Every wondertale that lives an oral life is multi-textual.” 

This story is open-ended. It provides for different interpretations in disparate contexts. That’s the power of metaphor. There is no ONE interpretation to any story.  If anyone, any group, or any teacher ever tells you there is, know that thought is contrary to any oral tradition.  Stories are created to be shared in different contexts for different purposes.  

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Once upon a time, there was a small girl who was strong-willed and forward, and whenever her parents said anything to her, she disobeyed them. How could anything go well with her?

One day, she said to her parents: "I have heard so much about Frau Trude. Someday I want to go to her place. People say such amazing things are seen there, and such strange things happen there that I have become very curious.

Her parents strictly forbade her, saying: "Frau Trude is a wicked woman who commits godless acts. If you go there, you will no longer be our child.

But the girl paid no attention to her parents and went to Frau Trude's place anyway.

When she arrived there, Frau Trude asked: "Why are you so pale?"

"Oh," she answered, trembling all over, "I saw something that frightened me."

"What did you see?"

"I saw a black man on your steps."

"That was a charcoal burner."

"Then I saw a green man."

"That was a huntsman."

"Then I saw a blood-red man."

"That was a butcher."

"Oh, Frau Trude, it frightened me when I looked through your window and could not see you, but instead saw the devil with a head of fire."

"Aha!" she said. "So you saw the witch properly outfitted. I have been waiting for you and wanting you for a long time. Light the way for me now!"

With that she turned the girl into a block of wood and threw it into the fire. When it was thoroughly aglow she sat down next to it, and warmed herself by it, saying: "It gives such a bright light!

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Let’s explore the use of color in this story.  Frau Trude asks the girl why she is so pale. She explains she saw something frightening.  But I’d be remiss if I didn’t tell you that throughout history, pale skin was a status symbol representing wealth, good health, beauty, and privilege.  During the Middle Ages and in many later folktales, paleness is a sign of nobility.  Here we can assume that this aristocratic girl was also scared.

But there is more color in this story than that. There is the pale skin of the girl and a black, green, and red man. If this story sounds familiar, it should.  Vasilissa saw a similar sight when she went to Baba Yaga’s chicken-legged hut. ("Vasilissa the Beautiful") Vasilissa, you may recall, saw a white, red, and black rider. Frau Trude explains the three figures without the girl even asking.  The black man on her steps was a charcoal burner; the green man was a huntsman, the blood-red man was a butcher. Rather than representing times of day, these figures represent three different occupations.  The charcoal burner is someone whose job it is to manufacture charcoal.  The hunter finds and kills animals for food, the butcher prepares the meat to eat, and the charcoal-burner creates the charcoal to start the fire.

Whenever we see color used in a folktale, we have to be aware of cultural bias.  Just as we watch for issues of sexism or antisemitism, racism is also present. These issues are difficult to unwind, for they reach back into history and mythology, and they clash with our cultural assumptions.

In regards to Grimm, there are two issues.  The first is the endemic cultural prejudice and bias in 19th-century European tales.  The second is the use of these stories by the Nazis emphasizing certain white characters as Aryan and others as Jews or black. Ann Schmeiesing wrote a wonderful article entitled “Blackness in the Grimms’ Fairy Tales.” Schmeiseing explains that “[t]he Grimms’ Children’s and Household Tales (Kinder- und Hausmärchen; KHM) follow the pre-Christian and Christian color symbolism that was prevalent from ancient to early modern times in associating black almost exclusively with negative attributes or situations. On a basic level the negative connotations of blackness in the KHM reflect mythologies, both Christian and pre-Christian, that associate black with the night, the underworld, death, and moral and/or physical impurity.”

Further, while this bias was prevalent, we can’t just assume that every reference to color refers to race.  These stories are metaphorical too. In the stories referenced above, the “black” man symbolizes either the darkness of night (the black rider) or when a charcoal burner, someone who makes charcoal. These references are more symbolic and metaphorical than racial. The colorful riders in the Baba Yaga story depict the turning of the earth throughout the day, time, and perhaps even Baba Yaga’s goddess connections.  In Frau Trude, there is an interesting foreshadowing in these three characters that symbolize the girl's journey to womanhood.  The green huntsman seeks the food that is essential to life.  The red butcher chops the meat, leaving only what is essential for sustenance, and the black charcoal burner compresses the wood until it can ignite with a fire that glows from within. Such was her path too.

But this is just the start of a much longer discussion on color in folktales. Check out Vaz da Silva’s article "Red as Blood, White as Snow, Black as Crow: Chromatic Symbolism of Womanhood in Fairy Tales” for a different analysis.  Vaz da Silva looks at the Snow White story in which her black hair and the black crow represent what is hidden and symbolize both enchantment and death.

In my podcast on this story, we’ll explore other interpretations, and then I’ll share mine.  After that, it’s your turn to make this story your own.

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Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Frau Trude, Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales), no. 43, 1837.  Translation by D. L. Ashliman. © 2001.  (https://sites.pitt.edu/~dash/grimm043.html)

Schmiesing, Ann. "Blackness in the Grimms’ Fairy Tales."Marvels & Tales 30.2 (2017). Web. <http://digitalcommons.wayne.edu/marvels/vol30/iss2/4>.

Vaz da Silva, Francisco. "Red as Blood, White as Snow, Black as Crow: Chromatic Symbolism of Womanhood in Fairy Tales."Marvels& Tales 21.2 (2007). Web. <http://digitalcommons.wayne.edu/marvels/vol21/iss2/4>.

Picture: Pixabay.com