tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22189584964073109122024-03-13T18:26:36.046-07:00MythDancer | Bringing Myths to the Modern WorldMythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.comBlogger179125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-2158407750554183952017-12-11T00:52:00.002-08:002017-12-11T10:32:12.564-08:00The RusalkiHello readers! Today we're taking a look at a creature out of Russian legend and folklore. Though their first appearances were as relatively peaceful beings, in later centuries they evolved into haunting presences which lure men to their deaths. Without further ado, let's dive into the tale of the rusalki!<br />
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A rusalka is a water spirit, usually associated with lakes and ponds, but occasionally with rivers and streams. Rusalki are described as incredibly beautiful women. Most accounts credit them with long hair, sometimes green.<br />
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Originally, rusalki were somewhat associated with fertility. They were beneficial to nature and minded their own business. They could be mischievous, luring men to the water and then tickling and sexually teasing them until the man was exhausted. However, rusalki in the early legends were not deadly.<br />
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There's a few Russian folktales about a rusalka who fell in love with a human man. He was so entranced by her beauty when he saw her bathing that he proposed to her on the spot. She lived with him in mortal lands for a time, but missed the water greatly. Her husband, noticing her sorrow, asked her what was wrong. The rusalka explained everything, and begged him to return to the lake with her. She took him under the surface, where they lived for long years in the kingdom of the rusalki. Eventually, however, he began to long for the mortal world. The man made the sign of the Cross - something pagan creatures in Russia were powerless against - and opened his eyes to find himself back in his village.<br />
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Later iterations of the rusalki completely changed the creatures. Instead of being spirits of water, they became <i>literal </i>spirits of water - unquiet dead, haunting lakes. These female ghosts are said to be the victims of violent drownings, or the souls of women who committed suicide. The lore paints men as the reason behind their deaths; in the first case, it was a man who murdered them; in the second, it was because of a man that they killed themselves.<br />
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This gives a reason to the viciousness of the rusalki, who lure men to their watery graves. Akin to a Greek siren, a rusalka will call out to men with an alluring voice. Sometimes her whispers target a man, luring him to her with her knowledge of him. In other stories, the rusalka calls out men's names, until at last she stumbles upon the name of a wanderer near her pond. Upon hearing his name, he is drawn inexorably to the waiting rusalka. The man is then lured into the water, where the rusalka tangles him in her hair and drowns him - or, in a perverse twist on the original stories, tickles him until his lungs give out.<br />
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I find the differences in these two iterations of the rusalki fascinating. The first seems more reminiscent of a naiad or mermaid, a water maiden not dangerous, merely beautiful. The stories of men descending to the underwater kingdom and living parts of their lives there echoes tales around the world. One such is the Chinese story of the <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2017/02/the-dragon-kings-daughter.html">Dragon King's Daughter.</a> The idea of an inhuman woman being seen naked in a body of water, and taken for a man's bride, also appears across multiple cultures. Selkies and kelpies, <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2017/02/crane-maidens-cowherd-and-weaving-girl.html">crane maidens</a>, and <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2016/09/the-buffalo-hide.html">buffalo women</a> are some examples.<br />
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However, the second version of the rusalki also has parallels in other cultures. The Latin American legend of La Llorona is one of the most famous, having been featured in the TV show <i>Grimm</i>. There's also a more recent Egyptian legend called El Naddaha (which may or may not have originated on Creepy Pasta). Both of these examples, along with many other creatures from all over the world, are females who died by drowning, and whose spirits lure and drown others.<br />
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It makes me wonder if the two different descriptions of the rusalki are actually describing two different creatures. What do you guys think?<br />
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I'll be back next week with another post! See you then.<br />
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<br />MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-69598718289571671172017-12-04T10:17:00.002-08:002017-12-04T10:17:24.042-08:00The Kama-itachiGreetings, reader!<br />
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The legendary creatures I've spoken about so far have been spread across a wide array of time. Some, like <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2017/11/el-chupacabra.html">El Chupacabra</a>, have only appeared in recent history. Others, such as the <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2017/11/the-vampire.html">vampire</a>, have appeared in lore for centuries. The <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2017/11/the-wendigo.html">Wendigo</a>, while an ancient creature, mostly disappeared from lore a hundred years ago.<br />
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For today's post, I'd like to focus on a creature who first appeared in Japanese literature several centuries ago, during the Edo period. It also has a long oral tradition. Though belief in this legend has largely faded away, there are still rural areas, particularly in northeastern Japan, which believe in them. Let's take a look at the Kama-itachi!<br />
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Also sometimes spelled Kamaitachi, these creatures are sickle weasels. Yep, that's right - sickle weasels. I know I pranked people with the <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2017/11/the-drop-bear.html">Drop Bear</a> last week, so let me hasten to assure you: These are a real legend, and have long been believed to exist. For those who don't know, a sickle is not just a silver coin in Harry Potter. It's also a small, curved blade used for harvesting grains - think of it as a miniature scythe. The "kama" part of the name stems from a Japanese variation of a sickle, which has also commonly seen use as a weapon.<br />
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And itachi...well, itachi means weasel. Japanese folklore lumps spirits, demons, and monsters under the term yokai, referring to things mysterious, otherworldly, and inhuman. While not all weasels are yokai, there is a long tradition of weasel spirits. Some legends make them out to be mischief makers, like the gods <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2014/12/hermes-most-charming-thieving-scoundrel.html">Hermes</a> or <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/search/label/Susano">Susano</a>. They enjoy pranks, but are usually harmless. Others paint the itachi as a more grim creature. They are harbingers of doom, ill omens that bring death and devastation in their wake.<br />
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So what do you get when you combine the two? The Kama-itachi is a weasel creature whose long claws resemble sickles. Its fur is said to be dense and prickly, like that of a hedgehog. Their barking cries echo through the night. They travel upon the wind, and in some cases can even control it. In fact, in some regions of Japan they are known as Kamakaze, meaning "sickle wind" (not to be confused with "kamikaze", the "divine wind" immortalized by suicide bombers).<br />
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Depending on the region of Japan, Kama-itachi are said to travel alone or in groups of three. They attack in three strikes. The first knocks its victim to the ground; the second makes a series of slices into the victim's flesh, using its razor sharp claws; the third applies a healing salve, keeping the wounds from bleeding. This is all done in the blink of an eye. It happens so fast that the victim is unable to see the Kama-itachi.<br />
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Why do they do this? No one knows. They don't drink the blood, don't steal anything from the victim. Perhaps they merely enjoy knocking people on their butts and laughing at them. I don't know the answer, so here: Have a cute picture to distract you!<br />
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There are numerous theories as to what causes the phenomenon associated with Kama-itachi. The two I've seen most often explain that the legends stem largely from areas with strong winds and intense cold. The strange cuts inflicted by the Kama-itachi, which do not bleed, but sting and take days to heal, are said to be caused by the weather. One explanation says that the skin cracks open due to the cold, but does not bleed. Another says that it is caused by small but powerful whirlwinds. Someone out for a walk could be bowled over by a whirlwind; leaves and debris caught in the wind would cause slices similar to papercuts, which don't bleed very much, but do sting.<br />
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While this seems like a more logical explanation than the Kama-itachi, I find that I rather prefer the mischievous sickle weasels.<br />
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Though they are mostly relegated to the past, the Kama-itachi have made their mark on modern pop culture. They have inspired songs, been the name for bands, and have found their way into modern anime and manga. If you're alright with lots of blood and decapitations, here's a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wm1FKFATBDs">terrifying look</a> at what can happen when a Kama-itachi turns evil. A lot of artwork and stories also anthropomorphize Kama-itachi, giving them clothing and making their sickle claws blades instead. As someone who grew up reading the <i>Redwall </i>series, I very much enjoy this trend.<br />
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I hope you've enjoyed this look at the Kama-itachi! See you next week.MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-3172421270139311852017-11-26T13:15:00.000-08:002017-11-26T13:15:43.319-08:00The Drop Bear<div style="text-align: left;">
Hello readers! Today I'm off for a family vacation to Disneyland. As such, I thought I'd make today's post an entertaining one. Most of the monsters I've talked about so far have been pretty fearsome creatures, and while today's is terrifying as well, it's also rather tongue-in-cheek. With that in mind, lets drop into the lore of...the Drop Bear!</div>
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Native to regions of Australia, the Drop Bear is a horrific critter: mangy, reeking, and, above all, carnivorous. It gets its name from its tendency to lurk in tall trees, dropping onto the heads of its victims. Many Australians are familiar with this monstrosity, having known family or friends-of-friends who have been attacked by the Drop Bear. As such, they go out of their way to warn tourists about the dangers of the monster. Still, many non-Australians have never heard of the fearsome Drop Bear - my own mother included. When I showed her a picture, she stared at it in horror, then demanded that I show her a picture of a regular, cute koala.<br />
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Be warned! It is difficult to find PG images for the Drop Bear. Due to this, many of today's pictures are gruesome in nature, and not for the faint of heart.<br />
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(Sorry, mom.)</div>
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At this point I'm sure some of you are scoffing at what appears to be a koala bear with fangs. This is how the Drop Bear surprises its victims, and why tourists are the most likely to be attacked! It is common knowledge that the koala bear is a slow-moving, adorable herbivore. Well, the Drop Bear is its lesser known carnivorous cousin. While both are arboreal, the Drop Bear uses trees as a means of hunting its prey. Its name comes from its habit of lurking in the tree tops. When an unsuspecting victim passes underneath, the Drop Bear drops from its hiding place onto their head, stunning them long enough for it to begin to feed. If the prey is small enough to carry, the Drop Bear will haul it into the tree and eat there.</div>
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For a NSFW image of a Drop Bear attack directly from the Australian Museum, click <a href="https://australianmuseum.net.au/uploads/comments/18460/dropbear1.jpg">here</a>. For everyone else, I have this:</div>
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Still not convinced as to the authenticity of these creatures? The Australian Museum has an entire exhibit dedicated to them. In addition, basic information may be found on their website, on <a href="https://australianmuseum.net.au/drop-bear">this page</a>. The Department of Dangerous Fauna Management also has a public warning about the Drop Bear - but the mangled corpse in it makes it NSFW, so I'll just link it <a href="http://www.theupsidedownunder.blog/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/0002-Drop-Bear-4.jpg">here</a>.</div>
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So how does one combat the deadly Drop Bear? Well, if at all possible, avoid making contact with them at all. They can weigh up to 120 kg. (For my American readers, that's over 250 pounds!) Between their size, their strength, and their teeth, you're unlikely to escape once they drop on you. Keep an eye out for signs warning of Drop Bear location in the area. If you must wander beneath a tree, check its branches first. Listen for the telltale hiss of the Drop Bear.</div>
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Folk remedies have also been suggested, though it is not known how effective they are. The most popular is the spreading of Vegemite, an Australian condiment, behind the ears. Toothpaste is also said to have the same effect.</div>
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But most importantly, my friends, remember:</div>
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Look up. Stay alive.</div>
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I'll see you next week!</div>
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<i>Author's note: Please note I am aware that the Drop Bear is an openly admitted hoax.</i><i> This post was written as a joke.</i><i> I have two friends in Australia who've been trying to convince me of their existence for some time. When I discovered that even the Australian Museum is in on the joke, I just had to make a post about them.</i></div>
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<i>Drop Bears are fake, folks. Think of them as a really elaborate, nation-wide April Fool's Day prank.</i></div>
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<i>That being said, I hope this gave you a smile!</i></div>
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MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-29856905511538438382017-11-20T11:36:00.000-08:002017-11-20T11:36:26.687-08:00El ChupacabraHello readers!<br />
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Today I'm continuing my series of posts about monsters. While some can be found in nearly all cultures, such as the vampire, others are more regionally specific. Growing up in southern Arizona, I've heard the tale of the Chupacabra very often - but I know some friends from northern states and other countries have not. With that in mind, let's dive into the lore of this goat-sucking terror!<br />
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The name Chupacabra translates to "goat sucker". This strange etymology stems from the fact that most stories about el Chupacabra involve dead livestock, drained of their blood. While cattle, sheep, and all manner of livestock and domesticated animals have been reported as victims of the Chupacabra, goats were the most prevalent during its first appearances. Strange puncture marks to the neck, coupled with the complete absence of blood in the dead animal, led to the name "el Chupacabra": the goat sucker.<br />
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El Chupacabra has been sighted in numerous parts of the world, but is predominantly found in Latin America and the far south of the United States. Its first sightings were in Puerto Rico in March of 1995. (Given that I was born in March of '95, the Chupacabra holds a special place in my heart.) Reports soon spread across Latin America, from countries including Brazil, Nicaragua, Mexico, and Chile. In each case, animals had been found drained of their blood - and sometimes, a strange creature had been sighted near them.<br />
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So just what does a Chupacabra look like? This is where it gets really interesting. El Chupacabra has been described in two drastically different forms. The first, beginning in 1995, is considerably more reptilian in appearance. Think of it as sort of a scaly kangaroo, bipedal, a sickly green in colour, with long spines protruding from its back. Sounds pretty scary, right?<br />
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Though this description was popular for some time, another soon overtook it. The second version of the Chupacabra is described as more dog-like in appearance. This creature's skin is taut against its bones, leading to pronounced eye sockets and a prominent spine ridge. Terrifying teeth and claws complete the horrific visage.<br />
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How did two appearances so different from on another come to be used for the same creature? Well, zoologists have been researching el Chupacabra for years, and believe that they have the answer.<br />
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The second description of the Chupacabra, its canine form, has actually been documented through photos and videos. Numerous corpses of the Chupacabra have been found and inspected by scientists. Their conclusion? El Chupacabra is usually a canine of some sort, dog, coyote, or wolf, which has been infected with mange. In animals mange will cause hair loss and itchiness. A canine afflicted by this disease would tear its own skin trying to scratch the itch away, and would look like some sort of otherworldly monster without its fur. Hunger, brought on by weakness caused by the disease, could lead to an emaciated appearance - which would account for the pronounced bone ridges.<br />
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(A dog afflicted with mange.)</div>
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But what of the first description of el Chupacabra, the scaly monster with a spiky back? For that answer, investigators have turned to science fiction.<br />
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A movie called <i>Species</i> was released in 1995. One of its primary characters was an alien played by Natasha Henstridge, whose design was created by the same man who designed the <i>Alien</i> xenomorphs. Its appearance? A scaly green-grey creature with spine-like appendages protruding from her back.<br />
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Parts of <i>Species </i>were filmed in Puerto Rico, where the first report of a Chupacabra originated. The woman who first described el Chupacabra even admitted in her description that it looked similar to the monster from <i>Species</i>.<br />
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However, there is a flaw in this theory. The first report occurred in March of '95 - but <i>Species </i>did not release until July of that year. Could the woman have seen previews or stills of the creature in the movie, colouring her description? Or does el Chupacabra truly exist, and merely bear an eerie resemblance to the fictional monster?<br />
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Chupacabra sightings continue to this day, and have spread past Latin America to other parts of the world. The Philippines have a similar creature in their legends, and Russia has reported Chupacabra appearances. Though numerous attempts have been made to disprove the creature's existence, el Chupacabra's legend continues to grow.<br />
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I'll see you guys next week!MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-15007947271544621482017-11-13T11:33:00.001-08:002017-11-13T11:33:29.027-08:00The WendigoGreetings all! I hope you're having an awesome Monday.<br />
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Today I'd like to take a look at a monster from North America. Stories of the Wendigo can be found in the legends of many Native American tribes across Canada and the northeastern part of the United States. Wendigo are popular in modern urban fantasy, featuring in television shows such as <i>Supernatural </i>and <i>Grimm</i>, and book series such as <i>The Dresden Files</i> and the<i> Pax Arcana</i>. Portrayals of the creature, as well as the reasons behind its existence, vary from story to story. Let's take a look at some of the original lore about the creature!<br />
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First things first: The Wendigo is a monster. It is a malevolent spirit that twists and warps someone who was once human. It has been described as possessing a soul, or as a disease which infects someone. Once taken, there is no way to restore the person to their former humanity. Killing the Wendigo is the only option.<br />
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Some Native American tribes performed mercy killings on individuals who had begun to turn into a Wendigo, killing them before they had a chance to consume a human and turn completely. These killings occurred as recently as the early 1900's, when a shaman named Jack Fiddler and his brother Joseph were arrested and tried for the murder of a woman. They claimed that she had begun to turn into a Wendigo, and that killing her was the only way to save her and to protect those around her. The brothers also confessed to having killed thirteen other Wendigo.<br />
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But where does this monster come from? It is created by a lust for human flesh. Cannibalism will turn a person into a Wendigo. In many legends Wendigo have strong ties to cold weather and to winter. During these times, food was incredibly hard to come by. If someone was trapped with no other source of food, cannibalism became the only option. Even eating someone who had already frozen to death would be enough to turn the consumer into a Wendigo.<br />
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A Wendigo is incredibly strong and fast, with enhanced vision and hearing. Some stories even say that it can control the weather. However, there is a price to pay for this power - an eternal Sisyphean struggle against starvation. The Wendigo is consumed by its hunger for human flesh. It will consume anyone it comes across; and yet, no matter how much it eats, it is never sated.<br />
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As to its appearance: In some stories the Wendigo is said to grow with every mortal meal it consumes. Because of this, Wendigo are said to be incredibly tall, around fourteen feet. However, its battle against starvation also takes its toll on the Wendigo. They are extremely thin, their skin stretched like butter over too much bread (couldn't resist the Bilbo quote, sorry!). Emaciated in the extreme, their bones are visible, their bodies hunched with hunger.<br />
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<i>"The Wendigo was gaunt to the point of emaciation, its desiccated skin pulled tautly over its bones. With its bones pushing against its skin, its complexion the ash gray of death, and its eyes pushed back deep into their sockets, the Wendigo looked like a gaunt skeleton recently disinterred from the grave. What lips it had were tattered and bloody. Its body was unclean and suffering from suppurations of the flesh, giving off a strange and eerie odor of decay and decomposition, of death and corruption."</i><br />
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Sounds lovely, right? Let's take a look at another description.</div>
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<i>"It was a large creature, as tall as a tree, with a lipless mouth and jagged teeth. Its breath was a strange hiss, its footprints full of blood, and it ate any man, woman, or child who ventured into its territory. And those were the lucky ones. Sometimes, the Wendigo chose to possess a person instead, and then the luckless individual became a Wendigo himself, hunting down those he had once loved and feasting upon their flesh."</i></div>
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I've mentioned that some Native American cultures believed the Wendigo to be an evil spirit which possessed humans and filled them with a hunger for flesh, rather than a human who became evil through cannibalism. Government and church documents from several centuries ago document this idea under the term of "Wendigo psychosis". Native American tribes told their guests about the legends of the Wendigo, leading to the adoption of the term for men who turned to cannibalism. Individuals who snapped for no apparent reason and ate their friends and loved ones are documented as suffering from this break in the mind.</div>
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How Wendigo are portrayed in modern pop culture varies drastically. Some are gaunt and lean. Some are covered in fur, and seem more similar to Bigfoot. Weather control is rarely mentioned, but books and shows do tend to show Wendigo in places which are cold. Several versions have Wendigo being former shaman who turned to a dark path and devoured a family member in order to gain their power. Cannibalism is consistent in most adaptations of Wendigo, as is the fact that they were once human. In fact, in <i>Grimm </i>the Wendigo appear to be normal humans...until they invite their prey over for dinner.<br />
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Though native to North America, the story of the Wendigo has spread throughout the world thanks to its portrayal in modern media. Sightings are still reported, especially around certain areas of Canada. This legend is alive and well. The Wendigo is here to stay.</div>
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I'll be back next week!</div>
MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-63020690085314791302017-11-06T08:48:00.000-08:002017-11-06T08:48:39.683-08:00The VampireHola all!<br />
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Last week's post got me thinking about a genre I haven't really touched upon in my posts: monsters. At a reader's suggestion, I've decided to delve a little deeper into some of the rich history of legends and folklore surrounding some of the monsters with which I'm most familiar. To kick things off, let's take a look at the vampire!<br />
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At its most basic definition, a vampire is a dead being who consumes life force to survive. Creatures matching this description appear in the mythologies of various cultures from all over the world, including Mesopotamia, Greece, and <a href="http://www.ancientpages.com/2016/01/12/jiangshi-terrifying-ancient-chinese-vampire-in-disguise/">China</a>. It is most common for these predecessors of the modern vampire to consume blood; however, some preferred alternative sources of food. Youth, beauty, innocence - one way or another, these monsters would drain the life essence from their victim.<br />
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Speaking of the victims, they varied across cultures depending on the type of creature. Some only preyed upon the innocent, preferring the life of virgins. Others targeted family members, or neighbors they had known in life. There's even a vampire-esque creature from South African mythology who preyed solely upon those with noble blood.<br />
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There are numerous takes on vampires across cultures, and they vary drastically, each deserving their own post. Since most of modern vampire lore stems from Western lore, I'd like to focus on the European vampire.<br />
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Vampire lore began to grow in Europe during the medieval ages. It was a time marked by plagues, fear of witchcraft and devilry, and high mortality rates - particularly among children. Many legends sprung out of this time period. Just as early civilizations had used the gods to explain phenomenon they could not understand (like Zeus being responsible for lightning), monsters and witches were blamed for what man could not solve. The dead were said to rise from their graves and attack the living. They were said to be angry spirits, or possessed by demons: revenants.<br />
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<i>"The vampire is a revenant, a being from beyond the grave, which destroys life in order to continue its own unholy and unnatural existence."</i></div>
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But it was between the sixteen and eighteen hundreds that vampire lore truly exploded across Eastern Europe. The term vampire appeared in a massive number of works, from scholars, theologians, and church officials. For example, a French botanist named Tournefort made a journey to Greece. He documented an incident in a village on Mykonos, where the villagers suspected a consumption-type disease of being caused by someone who had died recently. It was determined that the man was not so dead as they had thought. Vampirism! The body was produced and dealt with. First the heart was cut out and burned - then, the body followed it into the fire.</div>
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Methods for detecting vampires - and for bringing an end to their reign of terror - became widely known. Disturbed soil above a grave could mean that the corpse was actually a vampire. Walking a horse through the church graveyard was another means of detection - it would balk at the grave of a vampire. When the grave was dug up, the appearance of the corpse would be a dead giveaway. Where modern vampires are pale, youthful, and have suspiciously sharp teeth, these vampires were instead bloated, discolored, and yet shockingly fresh.</div>
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Killing methods varied depending on the region. Sometimes staking the heart would suffice. Other areas required that the heart be cut out and burned. (One region in Germany solved their vampire problem by putting a wedge of lemon into the dead person's mouth. Perhaps vampires have a citrus allergy?) The most popular method seems to have been beheading - usually accompanied by staking, cutting out the heart, and/or burning. It pays to be thorough when dealing with vampires!<br />
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Certain precautions could be taken with corpses to ensure that they would not rise again as vampires. These too varied depending on location. Some areas would bury their dead upside down to keep them from finding their way out of their grave. Others severed the tendons at the back of the knee. Try stalking now, vampire! My personal favorite are the groups who buried their dead with a large number of seeds scattered across the grave. For some reason, vampires are attributed as being rather OCD about counting - a condition called arithmomania. If they see a large number of some item, they have to stop and count it. The theory behind the seeds was that the vampire would be occupied all night trying to figure out how many seeds there were, so they would be unable to attack.</div>
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(A vampire obsessed with counting. Now why does that sound familiar?)</div>
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How one became a vampire, and who was likely to do so, was different depending on region and time. Some believed that suicide victims rose from their graves as vampires. Others thought that the creatures were brought about by witchcraft and a pact with the devil. Victims of especially violent deaths, or children who died, were also deemed especially likely to rise from the dead.</div>
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Now so far, none of this really sounds like the modern vampire. How do bloated corpses and copious quantities of beheading lead to the seductive, mysterious stranger who lurks in the windows of maidens?</div>
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The answer lies in authors and poets of the 18th and 19th centuries. Though Polidori's <i>The Vampyre</i> was one of the first, it was the serialized penny dreadful <i>Varney the Vampire </i>that really got the ball rolling. All of this literature eventually culminated in one of the greatest horror masterpieces to ever grace a bookshelf: Bram Stoker's <i>Dracula</i>.</div>
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Within the space of about a century, these authors laid the foundation for the modern vampire. They were ingenious in how they went about it. Lore and legends from numerous countries were collected, writings examined, and all woven together to create something new and terrifying. There was enough of the old vampire left in the stories to give them a foundation in history, to make them more believable to the masses. But the new vampire was much more terrifying than the old, especially by the time Stoker's Dracula made his debut.</div>
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Vampires could now control the weather. They could shapeshift. They cast no shadow and had no reflection. They were charming and sophisticated, and looked almost like everyone else in the world. They were strong, powerful, and hypnotic. Difficult to hunt, nigh impossible to kill. It was during this time that vampires became known for their sharp teeth, and were solidified as draining blood from their victims.<br />
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They were also highly romanticized. Sexual undertones ran rampant in vampire stories, and continue to do so. Entering a maiden's chamber uninvited, watching her sleep, corrupting her innocence and taking her life force as the vampire's own...It was creepy, provocative, and highly effective in captivating readers.</div>
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The writers of the time also wove strong Christian tones throughout the vampire stories. Holy water and the cross held some power over vampires. The monster was said to be a damned soul. One of my favorite quotes from Dracula is this:</div>
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<i>"That like soul who has wrought all this misery is the saddest case of all...you must be pitiful to him too, though it may not hold your hands from his destruction."</i></div>
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All of these are traits that can be seen in modern vampires, to certain extents. Vampires now are usually only seen to shapeshift into a bat, though earlier fiction also showed them as wolves and rats. The inability to be seen in mirrors has been extended by some to cameras and film as well, updating for the modern world. Though the 1922 <i>Nosferatu </i>portrayed a hideous creature as a vampire, later movies showed a handsome count with a sharp hairline and two prominent fangs.<br />
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The sexualization of vampires has been perhaps the most played upon trait in modern portrayals. Ranging from creepy yet mostly innocent romances between teenage girls and guys a hundred years their senior (I'm looking at you, <i>Twilight</i>) to heavy levels of BDSM and domination (Google at your own risk), vampires are all about sex appeal. They are the romantic leads, like in <i>True Blood</i>. One of my favorite episodes of Supernatural has a vampire covering himself in glitter and seducing a girl who really, <i>really</i> likes <i>Twilight</i> and wants to be a vampire herself. (In real life, live action roleplay games such as Vampire: The Masquerade are extremely popular, and have been for years.) Even when vampires are portrayed as the villain, as in the Gary Oldman <i>Dracula</i>, they are still romanticized and pitied.</div>
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(One of my favorite book series, <i>The Dresden Files</i>, has three separate courts of vampires. Drawing from the modern vampire, the traditional vampire, and the vampire's origin story, Butcher made each court different from the others. The Black Court features desiccated, hideous undead creatures who drain their victims of life. The Red Court is the more Dracula-esque set of vampires, who throw balls, enthrall others, and drain their blood. Lastly, the White Court feeds upon emotion - either fear or sexual energy. They are the seducers, the well-dressed party goers - though they stop just shy of sparkling.)</div>
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Vampires have changed a lot across the centuries, and have been portrayed in any number of settings. From retellings of the Dracula myth, such as <i>Dracula Untold</i>, to vampires in space, like <i>Dracula 3000</i>; from soap opera romances like <i>The Vampire Diaries</i>, to erotic literature like that of Anne Rice. There have been conflicts between vampires and werewolves in <i>Van Helsing </i>and the <i>Underworld</i> franchise. Vampires have dominated the world in <i>Daybreakers</i>, and have been superheroes in <i>Blade</i>.</div>
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Starting in early civilizations around the world, vampires seduced their way into our stories. They've been with us for the better part of a millennia, and show no times of departing any time soon. We've invited them in - and they are here to stay.</div>
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What's your favorite vampire story, readers? Hit me up in the comments below!</div>
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I'll see you next week.</div>
MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-37987019960658993982017-10-30T12:43:00.001-07:002017-10-30T12:43:37.846-07:00Halloween: Monsters Through The AgesGreetings readers! Today we're celebrating the third anniversary of this blog. Many thanks to all of my readers!<br />
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Tomorrow is Halloween, and since I've done seasonal posts for the past couple of years, I felt like carrying on the tradition. With that in mind, I want to take a look at part of what makes Halloween so spooky: Monsters.<br />
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Monsters (and dressing up as them for Halloween) have gone hand in hand long before Universal began to create their monster movies. The fictional costumes people now don for fun were once believed to be very real, and very fearsome. Numerous folktales and legends from all around the world speak of these creatures. From ghosts and devils, to witches and werewolves, up to vampires and zombies, here's a look at some of the most popular monsters throughout the ages...along with the reasons they were so feared.<br />
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The origins of Halloween lie in the Celtic holiday of <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2015/10/halloween-tricks-treats-and-pagan.html">Samhain</a>. During this festival, it was common practice to dress as one of the dead. Ghosts, ghouls, and spirits were some of the guises worn by celebrants. The vengeful, unquiet dead were said to roam free during Samhain, and humans could avoid their notice by dressing as undead as well.<br />
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A more cheerful variation on this theme lies in the Latin American celebration of Dias de los Muertos, the Days of the Dead. Taken from the Catholic All Saints' Day and All Souls' Day, which themselves stem from Samhain, Dias de los Muertos is a time to honor the dead and celebrate their life. My own city does a parade every year for this holiday in which people paint their faces to look skeletal, and wear more traditional Mexican garb.<br />
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Witches and devils stem from Christianity's influence. In fact, throughout the years Halloween costumes have been heavily influenced by religion. A lot of the early horror writers were Christian authors. (Nowhere is this more obvious than in <i>The Curious Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde</i>, in which both the dangers of repression and the horrors of a life without morals are explored.) Because of this religious influence, most of the more popular costumes, those included, feature individuals either dead or damned.<br />
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For the most part, these monsters share similar goals. They are deadly predators. As such, they are immensely dangerous and something to be feared. But it also means that they follow certain rules. They seek prey. They defend their territory. Occasionally, they look for a mate. Think of the Mummy seeking revenge on those who disturbed his tomb, or Dracula hunting for a bride.<br />
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It is when these monsters move outside of their territory, or attack for a reason other than food or revenge, that they are at their most terrifying. Frankenstein's monster sees parts of this, because he has no real goal when he is first born, and cannot be predictable. Dracula becomes infinitely more frightening when he leaves his territory and travels to another country - where his tactics are no longer known, and where most don't even know of his existence.<br />
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But there is one monster even more frightening than this, and it's one which has risen in popularity in just the last few decades. Originally, zombies were very different from the creatures which now dominate movies, TV shows, and video games. Raised by voodoo and witchcraft, a classical zombie was slow-moving, shackled to its creator's will, and had no brain function. They were more in keeping with what one might expect from a necromancer's slaves.<br />
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Over time, these zombies morphed into the rage-virus zombies we're now so familiar with. Many monsters owe their popularity to common fears at the time - fear of the occult, of the foreign stranger, of "heathen" religions, or of certain diseases transmitted by blood. Modern zombies are no different. They stem from fear of the viral outbreak, the disease with no cure which just keeps spreading.<br />
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In many ways, this is what makes the zombie so terrifying. It's certainly why I find them the scariest of the monsters. Unlike their other Universal brethren, the zombie apocalypse is not a traditional predator. It does not seek to feed, to defend, or to find others like itself. Its single goal is the extermination of all other life. Like the Borg, it seeks to assimilate everything else, until there is only the virus. This makes it difficult to defeat, and impossible to predict. It breaks the mold of monsters that have come before it, which I think is part of why the rage-virus has become so popular. It's something new and terrifying, and it holds audiences spellbound. (It's also a good platform from which to explore the darker side of humanity, and to see just how far someone desperate to survive will go; just look at The Walking Dead, where most of the conflict is between warring human factions, not humans versus zombies. That's another kind of horror all in itself.)<br />
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I'm very interested to see how the horror genre changes as society's fears change in the future.<br />
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What are some of your favorite monster movies? The Mummy remains one of mine!<br />
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Happy Halloween!MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-21617932163098704902017-10-16T14:16:00.001-07:002017-10-16T14:16:10.524-07:00Behind the Scenes: Treebound and the Gnome RunHello all!<br />
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Today I wanted to do a special post about an event I recently participated in. It's one that I'm very passionate about; so passionate, in fact, that I included it in <i>Treebound</i>. Here's the excerpt:<br />
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<i>Within the room Tom could see a desk liberally coated with more of Flynn's notes. In the middle of the desk stood a computer monitor, upon which a massive number of short people with bright pink hair were inexplicably running together in a video game.</i><br />
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<i>"The Gnome Run," Flynn offered by way of explanation as he settled onto an armchair across from the couch. Seeing Tom's raised eyebrow he continued, "We raise awareness for breast cancer by running on toons with pink hair." When Tom continued to look confused, the author laughed and raised his hands. "Nevermind. It's a gamer thing. What brings you by?"</i><br />
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If you read my books, you probably know that Flynn is a huge geek. He drops movie references and quotes every chance that he gets. He's also a big fan of video games...including World of Warcraft.<br />
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The Gnome Run which Flynn is participating in is an event started by World of Warcraft players years ago. It's also been called The Running of the Gnomes, or The Great Gnomeregan Run. It took place on October 14th. The event was started as a charity run to raise funds and awareness for breast cancer. Those who choose to participate create a level 1 gnome character with bright pink hair. As a group, all of the gnomes run across one of the continents in the game.<br />
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(For those who play WoW: The run begins in Gnomeregan. All of the gnomes run to Ironforge, where they take the tram to Stormwind. From there, they run through Elwynn Forest, across a river to Duskwood and Darkshire, then take the path to Stranglethorn Vale. The run ends in Booty Bay.)<br />
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(For those who don't play WoW: The run takes about half an hour to complete. Low level characters run through high level zones, where one hit from an enemy can kill them. Higher level characters often take place in the run as well, protecting the low level gnomes from any dangers. The run ends in a pirate city, where everyone gathers together to celebrate.)<br />
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The Gnome Run was a huge hit its first year, and raised a lot of money for breast cancer. Year after year, the gaming community has continued to organize and implement the run inside World of Warcraft. It has grown through the years, with more money being donated each time.<br />
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This year, World of Warcraft chose to officially recognize the holiday and include it as an official event in-game. Here's a look at what it was like (complete with epic music):<br />
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This was the first year that I participated in the Gnome Run. I logged on about four hours before the main run, and completed the course by myself. (I had a wedding to attend, so I couldn't make the primary event.) When I created a character, I found myself surrounded by pink-haired gnomes. They were all waiting for the event to start. Large groups were forming, everyone was talking, and there was a huge sense of community. Higher level characters had created neon pink shirts and were giving them away for free, so that all those participating in the run could be really, <i>really </i>pink.<br />
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There were hundreds of gnomes there. I'm sure there were more four hours later. It's also worth noting that I was on just one realm, and that many others also had gathering of gnomes. Tens of thousands of people participated in the event.<br />
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This is the Gnome Run which Flynn participated in. It's also part of why I love World of Warcraft, and the gaming community, so much.<br />
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Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the inside look at <i>Chosen of the Gods: Treebound</i>.MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-55098833582760876742017-10-08T23:28:00.004-07:002017-10-09T13:10:27.234-07:00The Helpful HagHeroes need help. It's one of the great truths found in stories across all genres and media types. No one can go through life alone, whether it's ordinary mundane life...or the sort of life that involves an epic quest with armies opposing you. That help can come in many forms: a sidekick, like Batman and Robin; a raid group taking on a difficult boss in a video game; a group of friends supporting one another, like in Friends; an adorable animal companion.<br />
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Fairy tales are full of helpers such as these. Sometimes it's a talking animal. In other stories, it's the fairy godmother. But another archetype appears time and time again: The Helpful Hag.<br />
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Rarely named in any stories, the Helpful Hag is most often a little old lady by the side of the road. I've also referred to her as the Kind Crone, or the Wizened Wise Woman. She fits into the category of the Donor, an individual who provides the protagonist with aid. Joseph Campbell recognized the Crone when encountering the first stages of a hero's journey, when they meet with someone who provides them with help of some sort.<br />
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There are several fairy tales in which three sons all set out on the same quest. They each, along the way, encounter an old crone begging on the side of the road. This woman is described as wizened, ugly, a poor beggar with nothing to offer. The first two brothers refuse to share their bread with her. The youngest, considerably kinder than his kin, splits his meal with the hag.<br />
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This is where the hag shows her true nature. Her begging is a test; for those who show her kindness, she provides aid. Sometimes this is a magical item. More frequently, her aid comes in the form of advice.<br />
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But for those who spurn her request for help...well, let's take a look at one of the more famous fairy tales to see how that turns out.<br />
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The opening scene of Disney's <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2015/04/beauty-and-beast.html">Beauty and the Beast</a> shows how the prince spurned the offer of a rose from a wizened old woman. Irked by his lack of manners, she revealed that it had been a test. In fact, the old hag was actually a beautiful, powerful enchantress. For his rudeness, the prince was transformed into a Beast.<br />
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So the Helpful Hag is not only a benefactor towards do-gooders in fairy tales - she is also a test, to see if a character is worthy of her help.<br />
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There are a lot of myths that could serve as the origin of the Helpful Hag character. Let us look first at Greek mythology. <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2015/06/demeter-persephone-and-hades.html">Demeter</a> spent some time wandering the earth disguised as a mortal, while she was searching for her missing daughter. During that time she became a nursemaid for a young boy. Seeing that the boy and his family were good, she attempted to make the boy immortal. Unfortunately, this involved holding him in a fire - something his parents didn't take too kindly to when they burst into the room. Demeter is one example of a Helpful Hag.<br />
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Another can be found in the Fates - or the Norns, the Moirai, or any other name you care to call them by. Appearing in Celtic, Norse, Greek, Roman, and many other mythologies, the Fates are three women. One is the Maiden; one is the Mother; one is the Crone.<br />
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But another example of a Helpful Hag is not actually a wizened old woman at all...but, instead, an old man. He frequently traveled the earth under the name of High. While there, he would offer his aid to great heroes on quests. This man was the Norse god <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2014/11/odin-all-seeing-all-knowingallfather.html">Odin</a>.<br />
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Now, Norse mythology has been the basis of inspiration for a number of authors (myself included). One such author created a character based heavily upon Odin in his mortal disguise - someone who could aid the protagonist, but never be the main character himself.<br />
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This is all a very roundabout way to confess that yes, I am comparing Gandalf to a Helpful Hag.<br />
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Can you guys think of any story examples of the Kind Crone? Little old women offering aid abound in stories of all sorts. One of my absolute favorite examples is from Diana Wynn Jones' <i>Howl's Moving Castle</i>. Jones recognized the archetype of the Helpful Hag and turned it onto its head. The main character spends most of the book convinced that she <i>can't </i>be the main character, because she's too old to go off and have adventures - so instead, she must be the helper to everyone else. What a surprise for her when she discovers the truth!<br />
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I'll be back next week!MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-72369294168959569242017-10-02T12:47:00.000-07:002017-10-02T12:47:15.367-07:00The Maiden PureIn today's post, we're going to be talking about sex. Or, rather, the lack of it. Well...actually, a little bit of both. One of the most common archetypes for a female in fairy tales, mythology, and quite a few stories in general is that of the virgin. Another term for this is the maid/maiden, though this is seen as somewhat archaic in modern vernacular.<br />
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A lot of archetypes are pretty heavily gendered. It's common to see a man be the Prince Charming, but a female Charming makes no appearance in fairy tales. Likewise, females are frequently laid under sleeping curses, but you'd be hard pressed to find an old story with a man succumbing to such a spell. The virgin is no exception to this gender rule - within stories, nine times out of ten the archetypical virgin is a female. There are several reasons for this. Firstly, a maiden's maidenhood was seen in many cultures as a symbol of purity and innocence. That's why bridal gowns are white, why Christ was born to a Virgin, and why unicorns are supposed to be attracted to only virgins.<br />
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A girl's virginity was (and still is, in some cultures) fiercely guarded until her wedding night, where she was expected to give her innocence to her husband. On the flip side, a male was expected to have some sort of sexual prowess before his wedding. Some cultures did not consider a boy a man until he had lain with a woman. Virginity was something to be praised in women, but in men? Well, let's just say that the creators of <i>The 40-Year-Old Virgin</i> recognized this archetype and made their male-led film a comedy for a reason.<br />
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These stereotypes are alive and well in fairy tales and mythology alike. Most females in the stories are innocent, delicate creatures. When they are strong or gifted warriors, they are portrayed as unattainable (more on that in a little bit). The men, on the other hand, usually tend to embody <i>machismo</i> - another word for hypermasculinity. (Not every hero falls into the category of the uberman. Some are less than martially skilled, and instead succeed in their quests thanks to compassion, generosity, wits, and intellect - but this is another archetype. There's quite a few heroes who fall under this umbrella, but far more who are strong, manly, dragon-slaying types.) So: All of this to explain why the archetype of today's post is about female characters.<br />
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What is the role of the virgin in most fairy tales and myths? Well, that depends. There's really three different categories that the maiden falls into. she can be in need of saving, an innocent figure to be protected at all costs. She can be unattainable, someone whose goodness and virtue makes her desirable in the eyes of all, but whose vows of chastity keep her from being had. Lastly, she can be a sacrificial virgin, whose innocence is something to be taken by force.<br />
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Frequently, more than one of these categories is at play within a story. A very commonly used narrative involves a virgin being offered as a sacrifice to some sort of monster. The hero must rescue her (and this rescue usually winds up with her falling in love with him). This combines both the virgin in need of saving and the sacrificial virgin archetypes. This combination can be traced back to Greek mythology, where Andromeda was chained to a rock and offered as a sacrifice to a sea monster. She was rescued by the hero Perseus, who she later went on to marry.<br />
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Another frequent narrative combination is the unattainable virgin whose maidenhood is sacrificed by force. Before we talk about the prevalence of the rape of virgins in Greek mythology, it's worth examining three of the goddesses of that pantheon. Athena, Hestia, and Artemis were known as the Virgin Goddesses. Each had taken a vow of virginity, and (despite the efforts of several men and gods) held true to those vows. As I mentioned before, Athena and Artemis were both portrayed as skilled warriors - and both were unattainable to men. The followers of Artemis were likewise expected to be unattainable, and took vows of chastity. The penalties for breaking these vows were steep: They usually cost the lives of these women.<br />
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Unfortunately, followers of Artemis were punished for losing their maidenhood even if they were raped. There are far too many stories of girls being stalked and taken by hunters, only for the girls to be shapeshifted into a bear, or struck down by the gods in some other way. There's also a fair number of stories about virgin nymphs being chased by the gods (usually Zeus, though several others were guilty of the same) or satyrs, and choosing to turn themselves into a tree for all eternity rather than lose their virginity.<br />
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(Yeah, Greek mythology can be pretty screwed up.)<br />
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(Hestia's Roman counterpart, Vespa, required her priestesses to remain virgins throughout their service to her; this was the reason behind their names, the Vestal Virgins. If a priestess lost her virginity, she was punished by being buried alive. It was believed that Rome itself could fall if the fire of Rome, tended to by the priestesses, went out - and that the flame could go out if a priestess forsook her vows.)<br />
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Fairy tales play upon these themes. Use of them can be made to imply that a female is a virgin without ever saying as much. For instance, Rapunzel being kept locked in her tower, jealously guarded and kept away from all men by a witch. Disney's Jasmine is another example, kept locked inside her palace by the Sultan, naive and innocent to the ways of the world. This narrative trick sets the girl up as someone to be protected, rescued, or otherwise cherished, and gets the audience rooting for them. It also makes any man trying to force the poor innocent thing to marry him (*cough*Jafar*cough*) automatically seem villainous.<br />
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History and legends have also made use of these themes - in particular, that of vampires. Modern stories usually overlook the virgin part, but many older vampire tales had the good ol' Count sucking on the neck of a maiden. The vampires in <i>The Dresden Files</i> find that maidens make the sweetest meals. Part of this obsession with virginity in one's meals stems from the tale of Elizabeth Bathory, a woman frequently associated with vampire stories due to her preference for bathing in the blood of virgins. Since doing this involves the murder of something considered innocent and pure, those who bathe in virgin blood are portrayed as some of the most evil around, on par with Cruella de Vil (I'm looking at you, Evelyn Poole). This is the same reason that Voldemort was considered so evil for killing unicorns to take their blood.<br />
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The use of the virgin archetype within modern media has drastically decreased as social standards and expectations have changed. Modern concepts of romance, increases in female rights, and the free love period all served to make it more acceptable for women to be as sexually free as men. With these changes came a drastic decrease in the portrayal of the majority of female protagonists being maidens. That being said, it's still a lot more common to have a female character be a virgin than a male. This is true in movies, tv shows, and books alike. However, exceptions do exist. Take Jon Snow from Game of Thrones. One of my favorite Dresden Files characters is a macho man, boasting about his experiences with the ladies...at least, until a vampire outs him as a virgin! Boy, talk about awkward.<br />
<br />
However, this also means that this archetype can now be used as a trope much more frequently - by which I mean that it can be played for comedy. I mentioned <i>The 40-Year-Old Virgin </i>previously, in which the virgin narrative was played for laughs. A film released in the same year, <i>Her Minor Thing</i>, flipped the trope on its head by having a female and her attempt at losing her virginity be the main plot point. It can also be used for a plot twist - Buffy and Angel consummating their relationship, and the loss of her virginity leading to the resurgence of Angel's dark side, is a great example of this.<br />
<br />
But perhaps my favorite version of the virgin narrative being played as a trope occurred in a movie I watched last night (which, I'll admit, is the reason I'm doing this post today). Spoiler warning! In <i>Cast a Deadly Spell</i>, a girl's virginity is fiercely guarded by her father, despite the best efforts of her libido. It is eventually revealed that it hasn't been fatherly affection guiding his actions; instead, he wants to use her as a virgin sacrifice to usher in the Old Gods and allow all manner of Lovecraftian horrors to devour the world.<br />
<br />
The girl is bound, gagged, and offered up to summon the Old Gods. Luckily for the world, the girl had surrendered her virginity hours earlier to an attractive police officer. Displeased by the father's attempt to pass the sacrifice off as a maiden, the Old Gods devour him instead and retreat, leaving the world safe. Talk about flipping the narrative on its head!<br />
<br />
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<br />
What examples can you guys think of in modern stories?MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-41251099060606771182017-09-25T11:08:00.001-07:002017-09-25T11:08:26.797-07:00Intro to Common Narratives, Archetypes, and Tropes<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
There's an old saying - “There are no
new stories.” All stories are created using the same building
blocks. These blocks are common narratives, archetypes, and tropes,
repeated over and over in modern literature, old fairy tales,
legends, and myths. They can be put together in different ways to
create something new, but the blocks themselves are a tale as old as
time. I'm beginning a series of posts exploring some of these
various literary tools, as well as their origins in our earliest
stories. But first, let's take a closer look at some of them.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Some of these narratives appear in
nearly everything. One of the best examples is a conflict between
good and evil. Sometimes this can be a literal, massive battle –
like Aragorn and his army facing off against Sauron in a last
desperate stand. Other times this can be small. Many fables and
tales use animals to present a lesson about right versus wrong. Lord
of the Rings and Aesop's Fables may seem drastically different, but
they rely upon the same narrative: making a choice between what is
good/right, and what is evil/wrong. The vast majority of stories,
both modern and ancient, rely upon this narrative in one form or
another. It has made for some of the most popular stories of this
time. The Rebels versus the Empire in Star Wars; the Battle of
Hogwarts, where Harry and others fought against Voldemort and the
Death Eaters; even zombie stories such as the Walking Dead, where the
survivors fight against the dead, and others whose moral code differs
from their own.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://i.stack.imgur.com/p6uNz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="330" data-original-width="800" height="131" src="https://i.stack.imgur.com/p6uNz.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But that's a big narrative tool, and
one that seems a little obvious. So let's take a look at some common
archetypes in stories.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
One of the most common archetypes in
stories is that of the Magical Helper. There's usually two
variations on this theme. The first is a human with abilities beyond
the ordinary. In fairy tales, this is most often seen in the form of
a fairy godmother showing up. In mythology, it can be Zeus revealing
himself to his offspring, either directly or through another. I've
recently started watching Grimm, and the Hispanic woman who helps
Juliette understand the otherworldly side of things could fit into
this category (or that of the Wise Woman, which I'll get into in a
later post). The magical helper possesses abilities beyond the
ordinary, and are more powerful than a regular mortal. They usually
don't actually directly aid the protagonist in their quest. They can
provide advice, armor/outfits, and maybe even an enchantment or two –
but all they do is offer help, not solve things.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://media.licdn.com/mpr/mpr/shrinknp_800_800/AAEAAQAAAAAAAAh2AAAAJDBmNmEzMTBiLWRhNmEtNDA5Zi1iNzg4LTUyNjJhYjU2YzA2ZQ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="455" data-original-width="728" height="200" src="https://media.licdn.com/mpr/mpr/shrinknp_800_800/AAEAAQAAAAAAAAh2AAAAJDBmNmEzMTBiLWRhNmEtNDA5Zi1iNzg4LTUyNjJhYjU2YzA2ZQ.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
(Yes, I did just compare Zeus to a fairy godmother.)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The second type of Magical Helper is an
archetype known as a Wise Animal. Ever wondered why every Disney
princess has an adorable animal sidekick of some sort? It's not just
a cutesy marketing tactic. Fairy tales are chock full of wise
animals aiding the heroes. (Sometimes the helper is even a tree, oft
times grown from a seed planted atop the grave of a loved one.
Pocahontas, anyone?) Horses and birds are the most common, but there
have been others.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://img.buzzfeed.com/buzzfeed-static/static/2017-04/10/14/enhanced/buzzfeed-prod-fastlane-02/anigif_enhanced-2055-1491848089-5.gif?downsize=715:*&output-format=auto&output-quality=auto" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="250" data-original-width="500" height="160" src="https://img.buzzfeed.com/buzzfeed-static/static/2017-04/10/14/enhanced/buzzfeed-prod-fastlane-02/anigif_enhanced-2055-1491848089-5.gif?downsize=715:*&output-format=auto&output-quality=auto" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The fairy tale of the Goose Girl depicts a magical
talking horse, who aids his human even after her death. The Norse
legend of Sigurd has the hero being helped by a bird. These animals
usually only help the protagonists, being drawn to those who are
good. They also usually don't speak to anyone other than the hero.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
This archetype continues to be used in
modern stories. Eragon and his dragon Saphira are one example.
Disney movies are another – they tend to add Wise Animals to fairy
tales that didn't originally have them. It's usually only the main
character who has one. They're definitely cute, but they also serve
to help the hero in their quest.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://disneyonepiece.files.wordpress.com/2014/08/aladdin-disneyscreencaps-com-1391.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="800" height="180" src="https://disneyonepiece.files.wordpress.com/2014/08/aladdin-disneyscreencaps-com-1391.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
(Rajah and Maximus are my two favorites. What about you guys?)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Moving along from archetypes, let's
take a quick look at common tropes. Have you ever visited the
website TV Tropes? They point out common elements used in various
stories, ranging from television to graphic novels and more. Tropes
can be major plot points or minor ones, but they're only considered a
trope when they show up a <i>lot</i>.
It's easy to lose yourself reading through the website, and I've
always quite enjoyed it. You can look up a certain trope and see
every example the article creators could think of in the expandable
tabs beneath the description.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Well,
certain tropes show up fairly often in fairy tales, myths, and modern
stories alike. One common one is the Youngest Son trope. Heroes in
a fairy tale tend to be the youngest son. A popular story element is
to have the youngest son and his elder brothers set off on the same
quest, but have only the youngest be triumphant. This can be seen in
tales such as <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2015/04/the-white-cat.html">The White Cat</a>. It's an underdog narrative of a sort,
in which the individual who would never normally rise to greatness is
able to do so. Being the youngest son in a fairy tale usually
provides plot armor and weapons of some sort.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
However,
numbers are also important in this trope. It's good to be the
youngest son, but it's better still to be the youngest of <i>three
</i>sons.
If a character in a story has two older brothers and sets off on an
adventure, it's a pretty good bet he'll succeed. Want to really give
him a boosted chance? Make him the <i>seventh</i>
son. This theme is so popular that it's been made into a movie –
The Seventh Son. Want super good odds for the kid? Make him the
seventh son of a seventh son, as in the <i>Septimus
Heap</i>
book series. The more the odds would traditionally have been against
the child making any sort of name for themselves, the greater their
success shall be. This is an old, old trope, but remains prevalent
in various stories. Daughters are almost always ignored in this. I
say almost, because of Harry Potter. Ron Weasley was the sixth child
of Arthur and Molly. He always wore hand me downs and wasn't
expected to do any better than his older brothers, several of whom
were quite successful. However, he became best friends with Harry
and helped to save the wizarding world. His sister Ginny, the
seventh child, arguably did even better – marrying the Chosen One
himself, and going on to be quite a successful Quidditch player.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://static2.hypable.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/08/ginny-weasley-quidditch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="411" data-original-width="800" height="164" src="https://static2.hypable.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/08/ginny-weasley-quidditch.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In
the coming weeks I plan to take a closer look at several narratives,
archetypes, and tropes that appear frequently in stories. From Sleep
Like Death curses to Prince Charmings, I've got a lot of fun planned.
I'll see you next time!</div>
MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-4415374021587255472017-09-18T10:37:00.002-07:002017-09-18T11:43:06.290-07:00Tyr: Can I Give You A Hand?<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Hallo, reader!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As I mentioned last week, I sprained my
hand and have been wearing a brace. I'm right-handed, so not being
able to use it has been quite a challenge for me. Around the time
the injury occurred, I was watching season three of Game of
Thrones...and this happened:</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/c4c28237-72db-49b7-a627-e233ea4c1589/scale-to-width-down/627" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="445" data-original-width="627" height="227" src="https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/c4c28237-72db-49b7-a627-e233ea4c1589/scale-to-width-down/627" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It got me to thinking about heroes who
lose hands. It's not an uncommon theme, particularly in fantasy and
science fiction. A hero who has talent with a blade loses a hand or
an arm, and must overcome the difficulties to continue their quest.
You see it with Jaime in Game of Thrones; with Tenel Ka, one of my
favorite characters from the Star Wars books, who loses most of one
arm; with Luke in Return of the Jedi, at the hands of his father.
Lindsey in Angel has a hilariously <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ewQwZroEuec">evil replacement hand</a>. Wormtail
in Harry Potter sacrifices his own hand for Voldemort, and is
rewarded with a magical one in return. Let us not forget Captain Hook, or his more
likeable persona, Killian Jones. Ash in the Evil Dead series replaces his missing digits with a chainsaw (it seems the most logical choice). The list goes on and on.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://vignette4.wikia.nocookie.net/p__/images/7/70/Ash.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20091207220803&path-prefix=protagonist" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="474" data-original-width="385" height="320" src="https://vignette4.wikia.nocookie.net/p__/images/7/70/Ash.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20091207220803&path-prefix=protagonist" width="259" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But why is this particular appendage so
frequently lost? Well, it does make the most sense from a writer's
point of view. Losing a foot or a leg would be equally dramatic, but
would leave the hero at a severe disadvantage (unless they got an
especially good prosthetic, a la John Kennex in Almost Human (or are
rocking a peg leg, like Captain Barbossa)). So leg loss does occur,
but far less frequently than hands. Loss of fingers is another
option; take Captain Davos in Game of Thrones, or Frodo in Lord of
the Rings. Still, losing a few fingers is far less dramatic than
losing an entire hand. Eyes are another option, and are sometimes
lost – for instance, Nick Fury in Marvel, or <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2014/11/odin-all-seeing-all-knowingallfather.html">Odin</a> in Norse
mythology.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/31Uv1hLDRpL._SX300_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="300" src="https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/31Uv1hLDRpL._SX300_.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>'tis but a flesh wound!</i></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And it is to Norse mythology that I now
turn, because I believe one specific character is part of the reason
why losing hands is such a popular fantasy trope.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Enter Tyr, god of valour, courage, and
(sadly) oathbreaking. (The more I look into this, the more I realize
just how much Jaime Lannister was inspired by Tyr!) He's mostly
known as a warrior deity associated with victory.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://img11.deviantart.net/765a/i/2011/244/a/f/tyr_by_righon-d48jhl5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="565" height="320" src="https://img11.deviantart.net/765a/i/2011/244/a/f/tyr_by_righon-d48jhl5.jpg" width="226" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Tyr begins the myths as a mighty
warrior still in possession of both his hands. Then, everything
changes when the giant wolf known as Fenrir attacks. Fenrir, also
called the Fenris Wolf, is a giant wolf. He's also one of the
children of <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2014/10/loki-mischief-and-mayhem.html">Loki</a>, along with Jormungandr, the snake who wraps around
the world, and Hel, goddess of...well, <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2014/11/hel2-person-and-place.html">Hel</a>. Charming bunch, right?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Much like his siblings, Fenrir is known
to the gods as a bringer of great evil. He's tied to various
prophecies about Ragnarok, the Doom of the Gods. Knowing this, the
gods cast Loki's spawn into various prisons. Hel is banished to Hel,
Jormungandr devours his tail as he encircles the world...and Fenrir
is brought back to the home of the gods.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
There, seeing how strong the wolf grows
daily, the gods realize that they have to bind him. A mighty link of
chains is forged. They approach Fenrir with the fetter, and offer
the wolf a challenge. They have heard that he is strong and mighty –
is he powerful enough to break through the chains?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Unfortunately, Fenrir inherited his
cunning from his father, the Trickster. He knows his own strength,
and is confident that he can break the bonds. The wolf allows the
gods to bind him, and then effortlessly breaks through his bonds.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The gods were horrified, and more
determined than ever to chain Fenrir. The best of their smiths were
able to forge a chain twice as strong as the first. Again the gods
challenged Fenrir. Again the wolf deemed the chain susceptible to
his great strength. And, again...the bonds were shattered.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Their own abilities already at their
limits, the gods turned to others for help. A commission was given
to the dwarves, who wrought a chain of their own from six
ingredients. Yet these bonds were unlike the others – instead of
metal, it was made of the lightest silk.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When the gods brought the silken cord
before Fenrir, the wolf suspected trickery. He agreed to allow the
gods to bind him, but only if one of the gods was offered as
collateral. Tyr agreed to place his hand in the mouth of Fenrir. If
the gods' challenge was in good faith, then no harm would come to the
god. However, if Fenrir was unable to free himself, and if the gods
left him bound...well, one of their mightiest warriors
would be down a hand.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiizxxSIloWQWpTmcloK3KTgww1wj6ozHJwkgVEfrHHHc_CFCEuT9ZWuPzT5kHCXtSuhxMof8QisnWOQXssIh-SRrqc3hlkKGcvZ749jLby8sFKp698jgR0rBDA1yKxnH3LR5KO3AxZ1lHW/s1600/tyrCAE1D6FS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="180" data-original-width="279" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiizxxSIloWQWpTmcloK3KTgww1wj6ozHJwkgVEfrHHHc_CFCEuT9ZWuPzT5kHCXtSuhxMof8QisnWOQXssIh-SRrqc3hlkKGcvZ749jLby8sFKp698jgR0rBDA1yKxnH3LR5KO3AxZ1lHW/s1600/tyrCAE1D6FS.jpg" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Tyr
agreed to this deal, knowing full well what the outcome would be.
The gods bound Fenrir with the silken chains. The wolf shook and
pulled, heaved and fought – but he could not break free.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
gods did not help him. In vengeance, he bit off the hand of Tyr.
And so Tyr became the god of perjury, among his other titles.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But
the story does not end there, dear readers. Norse mythology is full
of foreshadowing, and every little thing turns out to have meaning in
the end. When Ragnarok arrives, Fenrir shall at last have grown
strong enough to escape his bonds. He shall meet Odin on the
battlefield – and there, he shall kill him.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://i.imgur.com/Pi6gTJm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="236" src="https://i.imgur.com/Pi6gTJm.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And
what of Tyr? Though a mighty warrior, the god is weakened by the
loss of his hand. He shall fight in Ragnarok, but ultimately fall.
The loss of his hand will prove too great of an obstacle for him to
overcome.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So
what do you guys think? Is Tyr the first in the long line of the
handless-hero tradition? Which hero is your favorite?</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Until
next week!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/storywikmaine/images/0/00/Captain_Hook.png/revision/latest?cb=20170906235257" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="350" data-original-width="250" height="320" src="https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/storywikmaine/images/0/00/Captain_Hook.png/revision/latest?cb=20170906235257" width="228" /></a></div>
</div>
MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-81751757884161559382017-09-11T10:37:00.000-07:002017-09-11T10:42:28.667-07:00The Great Flood<div style="background-color: white; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Greetings all!</span></div>
<div class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">
<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<br />
Today's post is actually an old essay of mine from a mythology class. With a little bit of tweaking, I felt that it fit for this blog's theme. Without further ado, let's jump into the myth of the great flood!<br />
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In many cultures across the world stories are told about a great flood that all but wipes out humanity. The stories vary depending on the locale, but all of them have much in common, leading one to wonder where these stories originate. Some common themes include the great flood itself, and the fact that a god normally comes to warn a worthy human of the coming disaster.<br />
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In the Bible a great flood is depicted as God's wrath upon the world. Mankind had fallen into evil, and most were corrupt. God, looking down upon them, decided that He had had enough. He warned a man named Noah, one of the few good men left, and told him to build a great Ark that would carry he, his family, and two of every animal on the world - one male and one female. When the flood came Noah was prepared, and he and his family were saved.<br />
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A similar story is found in the writings of many Greek scholars, though all have a slightly different take on it. During what is known as the Age of Iron, mankind became so corrupt that Zeus looked down upon them with loathing. He swore to destroy them and called upon a great flood of waters to do so. Ovid and others speak of two humans surviving aboard a raft, but it is Apollodorus who offers an interesting perspective. He claims that the man, Deucalion, was warned by his father Prometheus that the flood was coming. Prometheus bade him build a great ark with which to escape, and Deucalion did so. He and his wife Pyrrha escaped because of this, and were instrumental in the repopulation of the earth.<br />
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The Sumerian myth of Ziusudra dates back to the old Babylonian Empire. The tablet it is inscribed upon speaks of a man named Ziusudra. The god Enki, lord of the sea, warns that a great flood is coming. Ziusudra is told to build a boat to survive the waters. He complies. Though much of the tablet is lost, it is obvious that he survives from the last part of the tablet, where he may be found prostrating himself before the gods as thanks for his survival.<br />
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In Hindu mythology the god Matsya appears to the first man, named Manu, and warns him that a great deluge is coming to destroy the earth. Manu is told to build a great boat to house his family and animals, who will later repopulate the world. He obeys.<br />
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You can see that a powerful god bidding a man to build a boat to save himself and his family is a somewhat common theme against numerous mythologies. The trend continues in many other stories from many different cultures; the Qur'an and the Epic of Gilgamesh are but two of many that exist.</div>
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For me, the most interesting part of these stories is the fact that they originate from so many different places. While I am leery to believe that only two people survived to repopulate the earth, the number of cultures that reference the flood leads me to believe that it may have happened. The fact that cultures that had little to no interaction all bear the same myths fascinates me. Did such a disaster truly happen? The evidence of seashells and fishbones scattered beneath what is now solid ground across many countrysides leads me to wonder.</div>
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I hope you guys enjoyed this! And if you're near an area where flooding is expected, please, stay safe.<br />
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Posts for the next several weeks are likely to be a bit shorter than usual. I sprained my hand, and typing is somewhat difficult (and painful) with my thumb immobilized by a brace. I do apologize for the inconvenience. I'll do my best to keep my posts interesting, whatever their length!</div>
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I'll see you next week!</div>
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MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-84797375005279148302017-09-04T16:53:00.001-07:002017-09-05T10:51:49.624-07:00The Sunchild<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Hey guys! I apologize for the lateness of this post, as well as the lack of pictures. I'll do my best to add them in the next day or two. I suffered a hand injury at work, which is making typing difficult, and also wound up helping out a friend who was in the ER. Thanks for bearing with me, and again, I'm sorry.<br />
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Today's story can be found in <i>The Grey Fairy Book, </i>and has its origins in a Greek fairy
tale known as Maroula.</div>
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There once was a woman who had no children. She
begged the Sun to send her a daughter, promising that he could
reclaim the girl when she turned twelve. The Sun gave her a child
named Letiko.<br />
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Letiko and her mother lived happily until the girl
turned twelve, at which point the Sun reminded the woman of her
bargain. She attempted to hide the girl from the Sun, blocking all
light from entering her house. In her haste she forgot to block the
keyhole. A beam of sunlight entered the house and took Letiko. The
woman mourned fiercely.</div>
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The girl was taken back to her father's house. He often sent her on tasks,
but she took a very long time on them. She would sit and cry instead of completing them. Her tears were because she missed her mother so much.<br />
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One day her father followed her on one of her tasks, curious as to why she took so long at them.
Overhearing her sorrowful weeping, he decided to send Letiko back to her
mother. He tasked two hares with escorting the girl back to her
earthly home. Though a lamia attempted to kill and eat the girl on
the trip, they managed to make it back to the village.<br />
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A dog, a cat, and a cock who lived in the village all announced that Letiko had returned,
but her mother refused to believe it, still caught up in her grief.
Only when the girl was before her did she accept the truth. The
hares were rewarded for returning her daughter to her. Letiko and
her mother lived the rest of their days together in happiness.</div>
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Thanks for reading through my <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2017/07/fairy-tales-without-dead-moms-or-wicked.html">Fairy Tales Without Dead Moms (Or Wicked Stepmothers!)</a> series! These are some of the stories which show that good mothers do exist
in fairy tales – and even sometimes survive the whole tale! Which one was your favorite? Do you know of any that I missed? Let me know in the comments!<br />
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I plan to return to mythology for a while after this. I'll see you then!</div>
MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-14458547297831448922017-08-28T08:54:00.001-07:002017-08-28T08:55:49.322-07:00The Enchanted Snake<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Hey all! I'm back with another post in my series about fairy tales without dead moms (or wicked stepmothers). One of the best depictions of a loving mother in a fairy tale can be
found in the Italian story of the Enchanted Snake, collected in <i>The
Green Fairy Book</i>. It has a little bit of an <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2015/03/east-of-sun-west-of-moon.html">East of the Sun, West of the Moon</a> feel to it - although, since it is Italian in origin, it's more likely to have been inspired by the tale of <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2015/05/cupid-and-psyche.html">Cupid and Psyche</a>. Once upon a time...</div>
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A poor woman desperately longed for a
child, but had none of her own. One day her husband went out to
gather firewood. Hiding in the wood he brought home was a pretty
little snake. When she saw it, the woman sighed over her
childlessness. To her surprise, the snake offered to be her son and
to love her. The woman agreed.</div>
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She and her husband raised the snake as if he were their own child,
and doted upon it greatly. The snake grew to be very large. One day
he told his father that he wished to be married. The man agreed to
look for a snake bride for his son, but the snake declined. He
wanted to marry a human girl – the daughter of the king.</div>
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The farmer brought this request before the king, who laughed. He
agreed to marry his daughter to the snake if it could turn his entire
castle into ivory. The farmer told his snake son, who asked him to
rub herbs all over the castle walls before dawn the next day. As he
did this, the farmer saw the castle turn to precious ivory before his
very eyes.<br />
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The king was shocked when the farmer came to him, his
task complete. He told the farmer that the snake and princess could
be married if parts of the castle grounds were turned to gold before
dawn. This time the snake had his father throw trash all over the
architecture, and again they transformed before his eyes. The king
had one more demand – a garden full of trees made of precious
stone. The snake asked his father to buy fruit from the market and
sow its seeds in the garden. They sprouted before dawn into trees
made out of gems.</div>
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His requests having been met, the king had no choice. He explained
to his daughter, Grannonia, what he had done. She agreed to marry
the snake, who went to the castle to meet her. Though everyone else
was afraid at the sight of the snake, the princess stood her ground.
Together they went into a room and closed the door.<br />
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There the snake
sloughed off its skin, revealing a handsome young man. All was going
well until the king and his wife, afraid for their daughter, looked
through the keyhole. When he had been seen, the snake cried out. He transformed into a
dove before their eyes and flew away.<br />
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Grannonia had quite fallen in
love with the snake and was distraught. She left that night to find the
prince. A fox joined her on the road, and they traveled together for
a time. Birds began to sing. When she complimented them, the fox
translated for her. They told of the prince who had wooed her as a
snake due to a curse that she had almost broken. He had been injured
when he fled, and lay close to death. The fox explained that the
blood of the birds rubbed upon his wounds could heal the prince.<br />
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Grannonia convinced the fox to catch the birds for her. Their blood
obtained, the fox admitted that his blood was also needed. She
managed to outwit him when he tried to flee. Killing the fox,
Grannonia continued on her way.</div>
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She came to the kingdom where the prince lay and met with the king.
She promised to cure his son. The king offered her the prince's hand
in marriage if Grannonia could succeed. She rubbed the mixture on
his wounds, which healed the prince instantly. Awakening, the prince
refused his father's deal with the girl. His heart belonged to
another. Realizing that he did not recognize her, Grannonia revealed
herself. The two were happily married, with both royal families
present. The love of his adopted mother and father had saved the
prince-turned-snake.<br />
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I'll return next week with my final post in the <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2017/07/fairy-tales-without-dead-moms-or-wicked.html">Fairy Tales Without Dead Moms (Or Wicked Stepmothers</a>) series! See you then.</div>
MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-78098458182925880142017-08-21T10:52:00.002-07:002017-08-21T10:52:57.755-07:00Rumpelstiltskin<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Hello readers!<br />
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If you missed my announcement on Friday, my latest book is now out and available for purchase! <i>Sleeping Love</i> is a retelling of the Sleeping Beauty fairy tale. An amnesiac princess, a surly knight, and a bumbling prince - what could possibly go wrong? Hijinks ensue, of course. If you're interested, <i>Sleeping Love </i>can be purchased <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Sleeping-Love-Natasha-Cover/dp/1539369951/ref=sr_1_1_twi_pap_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1503337853&sr=8-1&keywords=sleeping+love+natasha+cover">here</a> in both paperback and ebook format. Your support means the world to me!<br />
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And now, on with our tale!<br />
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One of the Germanic fairy tales collected by the Brothers Grimm was Rumpelstiltskin. At first glance, this story might not seem like it has all that great of a mom. Ladies, please, do <i>not</i> trade your unborn child to a strange man with magic! Nothing good will come of it. For as any fan of Once Upon a Time will tell you...</div>
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There was once a poor miller who boasted
to the king that his daughter could spin straw into gold. The king
demanded proof of this, and had the daughter locked in a room full of
straw overnight. The girl was threatened with death if she could not
spin it into gold before the morning.</div>
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Unable to do what her father had boasted of, the girl wept. As she
cried, a little man appeared in the room. He asked why she was
crying. When she explained what had happened, the man promised to
win the straw into gold for her in exchange for payment. She gave
him her necklace, and by morning the room was full of spun gold.</div>
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But the king was a greedy man, and he was not satisfied. He locked
the girl in an even larger room full of more straw. She was ordered
to spin it all to gold before morning, or she would be killed. Once
again she began to cry – and again, the little man appeared. In
exchange for her ring, he soon had all of the straw spun into gold.
The king again was filled with greed, and locked her in the largest
room of all, filled with straw. On the third night she had nothing
to give the little man when he appeared. He offered to repeat his
spinning trick in exchange for something she did not yet possess: the
child she and the king would bear.</div>
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Since the girl could not imagine herself as queen, she agreed. The
straw was all transformed into gold. When the king arrived the next
morning, he made her his queen. The bargain with the little man was
mostly forgotten, until a child was born to the royal duo. He
appeared in her room one night and reminded the queen of her promise.
Unwilling to part with her child, she begged and pleaded. The
little man offered her a bet. If she could guess his name in three
days, he would leave her and the child alone. If she could not, the
child would be his.</div>
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For three days the queen thought of every name she could and quizzed
the little man – but none belonged to him. During this time
messengers swept the kingdom, searching for his name. One happened
to be near the little man's home. He overheard the man cackling
about how he, Rumpelstiltskin, had bested the queen.<br />
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Armed with this knowledge, the queen confronted the little man when
he returned to claim her child. She called him Rumpelstiltskin.
Having lost his own bet, Rumpelstiltskin's fury was so intense that
he tore himself in two. The queen and her child were safe.</div>
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Trading a child off to a stranger is definitely not a great example of motherhood. However, once the child was born the queen loved the baby with all of her heart. She went to great lengths to protect her child from Rumpelstiltskin. Her actions make her a good mom (at least in my opinion).</div>
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I'll be back next week with another fairy tale without dead moms (or wicked stepmothers)! See you then!</div>
MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-22895149638816330322017-08-18T08:46:00.003-07:002017-08-19T11:41:12.712-07:00Sleeping Love Released!Hello readers!<br />
<br />
My latest novel, <i>Sleeping Love</i>, is now available for purchase!<br />
<br />
You can buy it <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/1539369951/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1503071122&sr=8-1&keywords=sleeping+love+natasha+cover">here</a> on Amazon! It is also available <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B074X2M4TY">for Kindle</a>.<br />
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Please feel free to drop a link, share, and tell your friends! Reviews, as always, are greatly appreciated.<br />
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I'm also running a contest now through Saturday evening! Head over to my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/MythDancer">Facebook page</a> for a chance to win a signed copy of each of my books.<br />
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May your life be happily ever after!<br />
<br />
Natasha<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7wH3SKus5VvKHIhP8wgYE2NoDCcqIsaggzUbgvUbaEXTbR1FyxVhajgnBf6ecqY8NjmLfjv8ZF9eP66M-JzXiwxWkPp2eMgg55uujdbt_wJGjhvaFP1RPVzw8VoI3fiSk1M9M4YOv5Axe/s1600/Sleeping+Love+cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1069" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7wH3SKus5VvKHIhP8wgYE2NoDCcqIsaggzUbgvUbaEXTbR1FyxVhajgnBf6ecqY8NjmLfjv8ZF9eP66M-JzXiwxWkPp2eMgg55uujdbt_wJGjhvaFP1RPVzw8VoI3fiSk1M9M4YOv5Axe/s320/Sleeping+Love+cover.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-53911424449106927942017-08-14T11:56:00.000-07:002017-08-14T11:56:01.125-07:00Rosanella<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Hey all! I hope you had a lovely weekend. Today I'm taking a look at another fairy tale without a dead mom (or a wicked stepmother). Shall we begin?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Rosanella is a French fairy tale, and was collected in Andrew Lang's <i>The Yellow Fairy Book</i>. Much like <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2015/04/the-little-green-frog.html">The Little Green Frog</a> (another fairy tale with a good, living mother), it features meddlesome
fairies. In the story, two fairies had a bet going about which one could
outperform the other. One, Surcantine, chose a young prince and made
him fickle, unable to settle on any one maiden. The other,
Paridamie, chose a princess so beautiful that all who saw her would
fall in love with her. The competition began.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://i0.wp.com/blogs.princeton.edu/cotsen/wp-content/uploads/sites/88/2010/10/Yellow.cover_.9802.jpg?ssl=1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="432" data-original-width="288" height="320" src="https://i0.wp.com/blogs.princeton.edu/cotsen/wp-content/uploads/sites/88/2010/10/Yellow.cover_.9802.jpg?ssl=1" width="213" /></a></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The princess' name was Rosanella, named so for the rose birthmark
upon her neck. Her mother loved her dearly. One night the queen had
a nightmare that the baby had been kidnapped. She and the maids
rushed to the nursery, where the found Rosanella missing. The queen
wept and was inconsolable, as was the king. In an effort to cheer up
his wife, he sent her into the countryside. There she met twelve
identical peasant girls, each carrying a basket. Within each basket
was a baby girl with the same birthmark as Rosanella.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
queen adopted the girls as her own and took them back to the castle.
Though she named them each, their names were soon forgotten; instead,
the girls were called by their dispositions as they grew older. One
was Beautiful, another Sweet, another Joy, and on it went. Many
princes arrived to woo the princesses as they grew older, but none
succeeded. Then Prince Mirliflor, he of the fickle heart, arrived.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mirliflor fell in love with not one of the princesses, but with all
twelve. He stayed at the castle for a very long time, unwilling to
be parted from the girls. Then disaster struck. A swarm of enormous
bees arrived and carried the twelve princesses away.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The queen was
heartbroken by her loss, but so was Mirliflor. He locked himself
away and sulked in his room for days.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Only when a joyful outcry erupted outside did he emerge. To the
surprise of everyone, the princess Rosanella had returned! The fairy
Paridamie had brought her back to the queen. Though she was
overjoyed, the queen asked about her other twelve daughters. Her
question was answered when Mirliflor approached Rosanella. He saw
within her each of the attributes he had loved so well in the other
girls. The fairy then revealed that she had split Rosanella into
twelve, and that the princesses had been the queen's original
daughter the whole time.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And so it was that Paridamie won the bet, for Surcantine was forced
to admit that she had been bested. Mirliflor and Rosanella were
married, much to the joy of her mother.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm quite impressed by the queen. Not only was she a wonderful, loving mother to Rosanella - she was willing to put aside her heartbreak to raise and love twelve girls after her daughter went missing!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'll be back later this week with a special announcement post...because Friday, <i>Sleeping Love</i> releases!<br />
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<br />
I'll see you then!</div>
MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-2654487396188856362017-08-07T07:28:00.001-07:002017-08-07T07:28:51.261-07:00Sleeping Love Sneak PeekHello all!<br />
<br />
My next book, <i>Sleeping Love</i>, comes out on Friday the 18th! It's a retelling of Sleeping Beauty. I posted an early book synopsis <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2017/01/new-year-and-resolutions-including-book.html">here</a>, but I've tweaked things a bit since then. To celebrate the upcoming release, today I'm giving you all a sneak peek at the cover, the new synopsis, and...the first chapter!<br />
<br />
I hope you guys enjoy!<br />
<br />
<i>As a baby, Rosalie was cursed to prick her finger and fall into a cursed sleep. Now the curse is broken...but she remembers none of her past life. Even worse, everyone else in her kingdom remains asleep. Left with no alternatives, Rosalie agrees to marry the prince who awakened her - if he can make her fall in love with him before they arrive in his homeland.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>But it's a long journey back to his kingdom, and Rosalie is filled with doubts. Chief among them is the fact that Prince Justin's guard, Elliot, has eyes exactly like a boy she keeps dreaming about. Are they just dreams, or are they memories? Does Elliot hold some secret to her past?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Caught between a forgotten past and an unforeseeable future, Rosalie must follow her heart.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
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<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;">She
woke up slowly, her mind fighting to stay in the comfort of the dark.
Her body awoke first, her limbs tingling with a thousand pins and
needles as though she had slept for a long time. For some reason her
lips were also tingling. A voice spoke near her, and her tired mind
took a while to process the words. When it finally managed, they
made no sense to her. “It didn’t work,” sighed a high, somehow
nervous voice. A significantly deeper voice uttered a hoarse curse
from farther away from her.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> The
struggle to understand finally tore the last vestiges of sleep away
from her. Her eyes opened. The room was dark, the only light within
it pouring in through cracks in what inexplicably appeared to be an
enormous rose bush growing through the window. Two men stood within
the room. The first was young and slender, with short-cropped hair
and rich, ornate clothing. His eyes widened as she sat up.
“M’lady?” he said hesitantly, his voice identifying him as the
nervous one. “I’m here to rescue you!”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> The
second man inhaled sharply from where he stood near the window. He
was older than the first, perhaps in his thirties. His hair was
long, pulled back into a tail, and his practical armor had obviously
seen use in combat. It was his eyes which drew her attention,
though. His face was a mask devoid of feelings, but all the emotion
he strove to hide could be seen within his eyes. Pain, fear,
longing, and something she couldn’t identify all lingered there.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> The
young man’s face suddenly swooped into her field of vision.
“M’lady?” he asked.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> She
blinked, recalling his earlier words. “I’m sorry,” she said
slowly. “Rescue me from what?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> His
brow furrowed. “From the curse, of course!”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> The
other man stepped closer. “Do you remember?” he asked. His
gruff voice was surprisingly gentle.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> She
frowned as they both watched her, the young man nervously, the older
sadly. “I’m sorry,” she repeated after a moment. “I don’t.
I know this sounds strange, but do either of you happen to know my
name?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> She
watched as the older man’s eyes widened. The young man laughed.
He stopped when she looked at him, her expression belatedly informing
him that she wasn’t joking. “Oh my. You really don’t know
your name?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> She
shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t remember anything. That’s
strange, isn’t it?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> The
young man looked to the older for help. Obviously hesitant, the
second man walked over to her bedside and gently knelt beside it. He
met her gaze for a moment, and she was struck by how green his eyes
were before he looked away. “Your name is Rosalie,” he said.
“You are a princess, and this castle is your home.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> She
looked around the room again, taking in more details this time. Now
that he mentioned it, there was a feeling of opulence to the room;
rich tapestries lined the walls, the bed she sat upon was soft and
warm, and the broken window had at one time been made of stained
glass. Everything in the room was covered in a layer of dust. She –
Rosalie – frowned. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;">“What happened to this place?” she asked.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “The
curse!” the young man exclaimed, coming around and sitting on the
bed beside her. She scooted back, uncomfortable, and the older man
shot a glare at the younger. “Forgive me,” he said, holding up
his hands. “I’m Prince Justin, by the way.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Rosalie
shook her head. “You keep mentioning a curse. What curse?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “You
were placed under a spell at your naming day,” the older man
explained. “The curse did not take effect until you were almost
eighteen.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Prince
Justin nodded excitedly. “You and everyone else fell into a deep
sleep, only to be woken when you were given true love’s kiss.”
He blushed at this. Rosalie suddenly had a horrified feeling that
she knew exactly why her lips had been tingling.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “Wha–
you kissed me?” She jumped out of bed, backing away from him. The
prince stood to follow, but the older man grabbed his arm, stopping
him. “I don’t even know you! How can that be true love?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> He
hesitated, searching for words. An even more dreadful thought
occurred to her. “Wait – </span><span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>do</i></span></span><span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;">
I know you? Did I, I mean? Were we in love?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Justin's
response was awkward. “No, m’lady. I apologize. I heard
stories of your curse and came to see if I could free you from it. I
had not met you before today.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Rosalie
shook her head vehemently. “Then how can it be true love?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> It
was the older man who answered. “There was more to the curse than
my companion said, Princess. Only a kiss from one of noble birth
could break the spell.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> She
frowned. “Your story keeps changing. I don’t even know who you
people are, and you expect me to believe that I’m a princess, and
my castle was under a curse? Why curse a baby in the first place?
Who would do such a ridiculous thing?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Justin
raised a hand to stop her rant. “Elliot, would you go and see if
you can find the King or Queen, please? Perhaps this would sound
better coming from them - maybe she’ll remember her parents.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> The
older man hesitated, shooting one last look her way before walking
out the door. Justin waited until he had left before approaching
her. “Rosalie, I know this must be difficult for you–” he
began.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “Don’t!
Don’t come near me,” she insisted, holding both hands before
her. He paused, biting his lip in the awkward silence which
followed.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Elliot
strode back in. She hadn’t thought it possible, but his face was
somehow more serious than it had been before. “I’m afraid I can
show you proof of the curse,” he said.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “What?
How?” Justin asked.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Elliot
grimaced. “It appears waking her did not wake the rest of the
castle. Everyone else is still asleep.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Justin’s
eyes widened, but Rosalie pushed past him before he could say
anything. Elliot wordlessly held the chamber door for her as she
stalked out of the room. He quickly caught up with her as she
descended the stairs – apparently her room was at the top of a
tower – and grabbed her elbow as she reached the bottom. She
recoiled from his touch, but he looked even more uncomfortable than
she. “Princess…this is not a pleasant sight,” he warned.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> She
held her head high. Thumping from behind her told her that Justin
was catching up. “I’ll manage,” she responded, once more
brushing past the man. The corridor was dark, its windows blocked by
the same rose bushes that had forced their way into her room. It
took a moment for her eyes to adjust. She nearly tripped over the
first body on the floor.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> She
bit back a scream, determined not to prove Elliot right. She knelt
next to the body, gingerly raising the woman’s wrist to check for a
pulse. Rosalie bit back a sigh of relief when she found one. She
began to shake the woman’s shoulders, trying to wake her up.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Elliot
knelt beside her, shaking his head. “It’s no use, Princess.
Their sleep is too deep.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “How?”
she asked. “How can this be?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “I
agree,” came Justin's voice from behind her. “I thought the
others would wake up when she did?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> They
both looked at Elliot. His face was in shadows as he shook his head,
but Rosalie thought he looked as confused as they did. “I do not
know,” he murmured after a moment. “That was what the curse
said…”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Rosalie
stood as well, shaking off Justin’s attempts to help her to her
feet. “Perhaps you’d better tell me about this curse, then –
and this time, start at the beginning!”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> They
walked around the castle as they talked, finding bodies lying
sleeping in almost every room. The group stopped in the first
courtyard they found, preferring the light of day to the grim, quiet
darkness within the castle. The courtyard was in the same state of
disrepair as the rest of the castle. Its fountain and stepping
stones were cracked and full of overgrown weeds. It had once been
left open on three sides, with high arches that must have offered a
view of the surrounding lands, but the openings were long since
overgrown with rose bushes. The luxurious, heady scent of the
flowers surrounded the group as Elliot spoke of the curse.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “The
King and Queen had been desperate for a child for years,” he began.
“Upon your birth they celebrated, and invited the whole of the
kingdom to do so with them. Everyone was invited to your name day,
and a great feast was prepared. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to them,
one of the creatures ordered slaughtered for the feast was a swan
that was a familiar to a local sorceress.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “Enraged
at the death of her familiar, the sorceress arrived late to the feast
just as the gifts were being given. She pushed her way to the front
of the line, protesting that she too had a gift for the royal family.
‘As you have taken that which I love from me, so I will take that
which you love from you,’ she declared. ‘By the eve of her
eighteenth birthday, your daughter shall prick her finger upon a
spindle. She and all in the kingdom shall fall into a deep sleep –
a sleep that can only be broken by true love’s noble kiss.’ ”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Rosalie
frowned. “Then why did I wake up? Justin may be noble, but I
don’t love him.” She looked at the young man, who had flushed at
her comment. “I’m sorry, but I don’t. How could I love
someone I’ve never even met?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> He
shook his head. “I understand. I don’t know why it worked. But
it did, so that’s good, right?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Elliot
shook his head. “The rest of the castle should have woken up with
her, and there’s nothing in the curse about a loss of memory. I
don’t know what happened.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “So
I’m eighteen, then?” Rosalie asked. “Or younger, since the
curse said by my eighteenth birthday…”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “Just
a few days away from eighteen,” Justin responded. “The curse
struck just before your birthday.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Rosalie
nodded. “And I’ve been asleep for how long?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Elliot
abruptly stood and walked away, leaving Justin to answer. “Thirteen
years, m’lady,” he said quietly.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “Thirteen
</span><span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>years</i></span></span><span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;">?!”
She rose from the dilapidated stone bench, the prince trying to
follow and calm her down. “That’s only five years less than I’ve
been alive! Do I look thirty now? What about the old people in the
kingdom? Oh goodness, are they over a hundred now?!”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “You
haven’t aged,” came Elliot’s harsh voice. “None of the
victims of the curse aged.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> She
breathed a sigh, relieved by that small blessing. “But still! Our
relations with other kingdoms must have fallen into ruin. If the
growth of these plants is anything to go by,” and here she aimed a
kick at a nearby cluster of weeds, “then the fields are probably
overrun with useless plants. Even if we could wake up the others,
what would they awaken to?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Justin
shook his head. “I know for a fact that most other kingdoms have
forgotten all about Ilaeria. The curse must have made people’s
memories of your kingdom sleep too – even Fahra doesn’t remember
you!” Seeing her blank look, he quickly amended his statement.
“I’m the Prince of Fahra, which is only a week’s journey away.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “If
your kingdom forgot about us, then how did you know to come find me?”
Rosalie asked. “Did you somehow remember Ilaeria?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “I
had no proof that it was real,” Justin admitted. “But bards and
storytellers have made mention of Ilaeria for years now. I’ve no
idea how they knew about it, but somehow they did. They sang of a
sleeping princess and of a curse. I fell in love with the story
years ago, and came to find you as soon as I came of age.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Rosalie
frowned. “Maybe that’s how you woke me up – you loved the
story, the idea of me, even if you didn’t love me.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> The
prince flushed again. “I came with the intention of doing the
honourable thing,” he replied. “There is nothing for you here
now. Your kingdom may be in ruins, but mine is wealthy. If– if
you will have me, I will bring you back to Fahra as my bride.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> She
stared at him for a moment, trying to judge if he was serious.
Determining that he was, she protested, “But you still don’t know
me!”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “Regardless,
I fell in love with the sleeping beauty a long time ago,” Justin
replied. “And in </span><span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;">time, I feel that you could grow to love me as
well.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Rosalie
shook her head. “You fell in love with a story, not with me! I’m
more than just a…a sleeping damsel in distress for you to swoop in
and rescue!”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “Really?
Then who are you?” There was no malice in his question, but it
stung nonetheless.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “I'm–”
she hesitated, willing her memories to return. Her mind remained
clouded. She shook her head, furious, but was unable to argue
against him.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Justin
nodded. “You can’t remember anything. You have nothing and no
one here. I can offer you peace, security, and my love. Give me a
chance, and I feel we can be happy together.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> She
shook her head again. “But I don’t know you.” It was a weak
protest, but it was all she had.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> His
voice was not unkind as he replied, “You know me better than you
know anyone else.” Seeing the look on her face, he held up his
hands. “I’ll make you a deal, m’lady – return to my kingdom
with me. If at any point your people wake up, or you remember your
life, I’ll personally bring you back here. But if you give me a
chance on our journey home, and if you fall in love with me, I will
announce our engagement upon returning to Fahra.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Rosalie
hesitated. The prince patted her on the shoulder. “Think about
it,” he said. She hated that his voice was kind as he walked away.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “What
choice do I have?” she responded, her voice so quiet that he
scarcely heard her.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Justin
looked back at her, pity upon his face. “I don’t know. I’m
giving you the best choice I have.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Rosalie
bit her lip, fighting back tears as he left her.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> The
fading light in the courtyard told Rosalie that the sun was beginning
to set. She stood and headed for the door to the castle’s
interior. Her cheeks were still damp from crying, but her face was
resolute, and her mind made up. Justin was not unkind, and his offer
was the best choice she had available to her.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Rosalie
stopped when she entered the castle hallway, her eyes taking a moment
to adjust to the darkness within. She began to walk, not really
knowing where she was headed. Footsteps muted by the rich carpet
below made her whirl around, only to find Elliot standing a few steps
behind her.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “Forgive
me, Princess,” he murmured, not meeting her gaze. “I did not
mean to startle you.” Rosalie’s eyes widened, and she raised a
hand to her wet cheek. Had he stood by the door the whole time she
had cried?</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Elliot's
awkward cough confirmed her suspicions. She blinked rapidly, trying
to regain her composure. “It is I who should apologize. I thought
you would have gone with the prince.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> The
knight shook his head. “He tasked me to watch over you while he
checked the castle for supplies.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Rosalie
nodded. “I see. May I ask you something?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> His
brow furrowed, but he nodded. Rosalie gestured for them to begin
walking, and the knight took the lead, seeming to know his way around
the castle. “You heard our conversation?” she asked as they
gingerly traversed around the bodies that littered the floor.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> It
was difficult to tell in the dim lighting, but Rosalie thought
Elliot’s neck seemed flushed at her question. “I did,” he
replied without turning.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “You
serve the man. What is your opinion of Prince Justin?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Elliot
hesitated before answering. “He is kind,” he said, his tone
thoughtful. “He does not stand to inherit the throne, and so has
little interest in politics, but he is still wealthy. He is young,
in more ways than just age – but he is honest, and trusting. If he
tells you something, you may know it to be true.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Rosalie
blinked, startled by the amount the knight had shared. Her
interactions with him thus far had led her to believe he was a man of
few words. “You speak highly of him.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Elliot
nodded. “I have served his father for almost five years now. I
watched the Prince become a man. I admire him more than I do his
brothers.”</span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> They
entered a room larger than any they had traveled through. Its
ceilings were high and hung with chandeliers; the walls were draped
in rich, thick curtains. Rosalie stared up at the chandeliers,
fascinated, and found her steps suddenly blocked by Elliot. “I’m
sorry,” he murmured as she looked at him in confusion. “I didn't
want you to trip.” He gestured with one hand and she followed the
movement, gasping as her gaze fell to the floor.</span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> The
room was littered with dozens of bodies, all of them richly attired.
Silken suits and shimmering gowns drew her eye. She had been about
to stumble over one when the knight stopped her. Rosalie shook her
head, feeling sickened as she looked around the room. “There’s
so many of them,” she whispered.</span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> She
could feel the silent worry in Elliot’s gaze. “There was a
dance, the night of the curse. Most of the kingdom was gathered
here.” Her eyes snapped up to his face as he gently touched her
wrist. “I’m sorry – there was no other way out. This way,
Princess.” His voice was as gentle as his hand as he led her
through the room. Rosalie did not look down again, trusting him to
lead her through the maze of sleeping bodies.</span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> She
breathed a sigh of relief when they exited the room, and thought she
heard a small exhale from the knight as well. “Thank you,” she
said as he released her hand.</span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> He
gave a slight bow before taking up his position at the front. “It
is my duty,” came his taciturn response.</span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Justin
was waiting for them when they emerged from the castle a few minutes
later. “There you are!” he said, rising from where he perched on
the steps leading up to the door. “I was beginning to worry you
had gotten lost – I know I did.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Rosalie
shook her head. “Your knight seems to know his way around the
place.” She watched as Elliot descended the stairs, walking past
Justin to where three horses were tethered.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> The
prince nodded. “He’s better at seeing in the dark than I am, at
least. M’lady, I did not think you would want to stay inside the
castle, so I took the liberty of moving some blankets and the like
out here. We have a tent which you are welcome to use.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> She
shuddered at the thought of sleeping amongst all of the others within
the castle. “That’s very considerate, thank you.” She walked
hesitantly towards him, noticing that the prince seemed as nervous as
she did. “I thought about your offer…”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “Please,
let me say something first,” Justin interjected. “I realize that
this must be very traumatic for you, and I shouldn't have said
anything before letting you get your bearings. I just wanted you to
know that there are options available to you. However, I don't want
to make you do anything you don’t want to do. I’d be more than
happy to just escort you to Fahra and help you start a new life there
– a life that does not have to include me.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Rosalie
blinked. “That’s very generous of you – as was your first
offer. I realize that I don’t have many choices available, and I
understand that you’re just trying to help. I’m sorry if I
seemed rude earlier.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> The
prince shook his head. “Again, I understand. This is a trying
time.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “What
you offered me is more than I have any right to expect. And you’re
right – I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what I know how to
do. I don’t even know if I could survive on my own. So…I would
like to accept your offer, if you’re still willing.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Justin
seemed taken aback. “You would marry me?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> She
held up a hand, trying to forestall the excitement she saw rising in
his face. “If I fall in love you with before we reach Fahra, you
will announce our engagement. Those were your words, correct?”
Rosalie waited until he nodded before continuing. “Good. If I do,
we will proceed as discussed. Otherwise, you drop me off in Fahra
and leave me to make my own way. Does that sound fair?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “More
than fair,” Justin replied, beaming. “Thank you, m’lady!”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Rosalie
shook her head, a little amused by his glee. “And no more calling
me m’lady. If I am a princess, then we are of equal rank, so you
should call me by my name…assuming I’m remembering my etiquette
correctly. Besides, maybe then I’ll get used to hearing it.”
She thought she saw Elliot smile faintly at her quip as he headed
towards them, having set up the tent near the treeline.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Justin
laughed at her comment. “Rosalie it is, then. Or do you prefer
Rose?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> She
shook her head vehemently, unsure as to why the name seemed so wrong
to her. The frown Elliot now bore told her he shared her sentiments,
though she couldn’t imagine why. “Just Rosalie, please.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Justin
nodded, seeming confused at her insistence. Elliot cleared his
throat, drawing the prince’s attention to him. “The Queen is
named Rose,” he explained quietly.</span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Rosalie
blinked, realizing that she had not even known her own mother’s
name. The realization left her with a hollow feeling inside. She
waited as Justin excused himself and went to check on their campsite
before approaching Elliot. “Please,” she said quietly. “My
father – what was his name?”</span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> There
was sympathy on Elliot’s face as he looked at her. “Phillip,”
he replied softly. She nodded, and was thankful when he turned
without another word and left her to her thoughts.</span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> The
evening was pleasant, with only a slight chill creeping in after the
sun had set. When Rosalie approached the camp she found that a
blazing fire had been lit close to the tent, which looked rather
spacious to her. Justin and Elliot both had mats set up near the
fire. A pot of something that smelled delicious hung from a brace
above the flames. The young prince sat on his bedding and gently
stirred the pot, replacing the lid when he was done.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Justin
gestured for Rosalie to sit on the second mat; seeing that Elliot was
nowhere to be seen, she complied. “You can cook?” she asked,
surprised.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> He
laughed. “Not something you expect from a prince, I know, but I
love the kitchen. I’m the youngest of seven sons, so my father
always let me study whatever I wanted.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “Well,
it smells delicious.” She smiled at him, glad that he was willing
to do menial tasks. Could she even cook, she wondered?</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “Should
be done in a few minutes. We brought enough supplies to last for the
journey back, though Elliot has been supplementing our diet with
fresh meat.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “Where
is he?” Rosalie asked.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Justin
shrugged, gesturing to the woods. “Out keeping watch somewhere. I
doubt we’ll see him until he wakes me for my turn; he’s eaten by
himself every night we’ve been out here. Keeps to himself,
mostly.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> He
served her a bowl of the stew, and Rosalie accepted it from him
gratefully. The smell of it had reminded her stomach that it had not
eaten in thirteen years. She tried to be ladylike in her eating, but
judging by the small smile Justin tried to hide behind his own bowl,
her efforts were in vain. “He said he’s served your father for
several years?” she asked around mouthfuls, hoping to distract the
prince with conversation.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “Almost
five, now,” he mused. “He’s a good man – somewhat terse, as
you’ve undoubtedly noticed, but with a heart of gold beneath the
gruff.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> She
laughed at the description. “Why is he so stern? And this is
delicious, thank you.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “I’m
glad,” he replied. “And I’m not sure. He’s always been
fairly quiet, but he’s not normally this uncommunicative. He was
in the wars, before coming to my father; he served as a mercenary, if
I recall. Battle can make a man withdraw into himself. I’ve seen
it with the palace guards. They only truly open up with each other,
because no one else understands.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Rosalie
looked into the darkness of the woods, wondering if Elliot could hear
them. She turned back to find that Justin had topped off her bowl,
winking at her when she noticed. Rosalie blushed, reasonably certain
that a lady was not supposed to devour her food. But she was
ravenous, and Justin didn’t seem to mind.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> The
prince looked out into the woods while she finished her bowl of stew.
“He’s a good man,” he stated. “My brothers bullied me
before Elliot first came to the castle – said I was better with a
spoon than with a sword. Elliot showed me how to fight. He trained
me outside of my normal hours with the swordsmaster. They couldn’t
understand how I was suddenly so much better. But the bullying
stopped. I think that generous heart is what made my father accept
him into the knights.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> He
took her bowl from her when she had finished, putting it aside to be
washed in the morning. “We should get some rest,” he said,
standing and offering a hand to pull her to her feet. “It’s
getting late, and we’ve an early start tomorrow. The tent is set
up – please let me know if you need anything else.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Rosalie
thanked him, then thanked him again when he held up the flap that
served as the entrance to the tent. “Good night,” she murmured
as she ducked inside.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> “Good
night, Rosalie,” he replied. The flap dropped closed, and Rosalie
was relieved to see that the fire provided enough light to glimpse
the insides of the tent by. It was simple, but there were blankets
on the floor to provide padding with another to go over her, and
there were pillows. The tent had enough room to allow her to stretch
comfortably, and was tall enough that she barely had to duck inside.
She heard Justin settle onto his mat outside and followed his
example, lying down and pulling the blanket over her.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Falling
asleep was harder. Justin began to snore within minutes of lying
down, but Rosalie just lay there, unable to sleep. Perhaps it was
because she had slept for so long, or because she had awakened only
hours before, but her body seemed unwilling to fall back into the
darkness slumber offered.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> She
was still awake several hours later, so she heard Elliot approach the
campfire. He settled onto his mat. She was surprised that he didn’t
wake Justin for his turn at keeping guard. The fire had died down to
just embers, leading her to believe that the watch was half done.
Elliot just sat there, not waking his counterpart. After a few
minutes she smiled in the dark, realizing that he was letting the
prince snag an extra hour or two of sleep.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>“He’s
a good man,”</i></span></span><span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;">
she remembered Justin’s words. She rather thought she agreed with
the prince.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"> Elliot
was still sitting watch when she finally drifted off.</span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> The
boy was with her – he was always with her during their free time,
much to the chagrin of their tutors. She smiled as he met her at the
bottom of the stairs, both of them dressed in casual clothes they
kept specifically for exploring. They had learned early on that
trouble would come if their good clothes showed up dirty or torn.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> “Ready?”
he asked, his white smile a sharp contrast to his tanned skin.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> “Ready!”
she agreed, beaming back at him.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> He
looked slightly askance at the basket she carried, but nonetheless
fell into step with her as they headed for the woods. “What’s
that for?” he asked.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> “Father’s
started me learning from an herbalist,” she replied. “I thought
if I brought some different plants back from the wood, I could say
this was for educational purposes.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> The
boy threw back his head and laughed. “You’ll still get in
trouble if they find out where you got the plants.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> She
shrugged. “Then I’ll keep the plants for my personal collection.
I’m twelve and I’ve never been outside the castle grounds. I
want that to change, and the wood is right here to explore.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> “You’re
not worried?” he asked as they entered the tree line. “Or
scared?”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> She
stopped, looking at him sideways. “Why would I be scared?”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> The
boy shook his head, amused. “You wouldn’t be, would you. I just
don’t want you to get into trouble.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> She
laughed. “I’ll make you a deal – I’ll tell you what plants
not to touch if you protect me from any vicious animals we may find.
That should keep us out of trouble. And when we get back, we tell
them we were climbing trees in the courtyard again.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> He
chuckled again, his green eyes catching the light that filtered in
through the trees. “You see, Sally, this is why I like you!”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.27in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> Together
they headed into the woods, the boy whistling a jaunty tune as they
lost themselves amongst the trees.</i></span></span></div>
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I hope you guys enjoyed the sneak peek! Next week I'll be returning to my series of posts on fairy tales without dead moms (or evil stepmothers). Keep an eye out for an announcement about the release of <i>Sleeping Love</i>!</div>
MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-74740686208690844922017-07-31T09:30:00.001-07:002017-07-31T09:30:38.321-07:00Jack and the Beanstalk<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Another Monday, another post! Greetings, all. Today I have another post in my series about fairy tales without dead moms (or wicked stepmothers). Let's jump right into it!</div>
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A fairy tale
with its origins in England, Jack and the Beanstalk is fairly well-known in the western part of the world. Recent <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ng9rjC8MOgU">movie adaptations</a> and <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23399287-grounded">novels</a> have helped keep it in the public eye. Still, it's one of the few fairy tales where the mother is both decent and alive.</div>
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Jack and the Beanstalk is
a story about a single mother raising her child. The family is very poor. Seeking to change their luck, Jack trades their cow for a handful of beans.</div>
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When Jack returns with his "magic beans", his mother despairs. She throws the beans outside in her anger.
Luckily for Jack and his mom, the beans actually <i>are</i>
magical. They sprout a massive beanstalk which climbs the sky into the home
of the giants. Jack climbs the beanstalk during the night.<br />
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At the top he finds a castle, in which he meets the giant's
wife. She helps him hide when her husband returns home. Once the
male giant is sleeping, Jack steals his treasure and makes a run for
it. The next night he returns to the giants' domain and steals
again. On the third night Jack is spotted. The boy flees, climbing
down the beanstalk and calling for his mother to bring an axe. With
her help the beanstalk is chopped down. The male giant falls to his
death (which is justified in some stories by the excuse that the
giant had killed Jack's father).</div>
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Though his mother doubted him about the magical beans, she helped
Jack when it most mattered. The two live happily ever after on the
riches gathered from the giant's home. Yay for happy endings!<br />
<br />
I'll be back next week with a special post, before returning with another story of a good fairy tale mom!</div>
MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-12702635982787574372017-07-24T09:38:00.001-07:002017-07-24T09:38:13.339-07:00The Story of Bensurdatu<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Greetings all! Before we get started, I wanted to drop a note that I've created an official Facebook page, where I'll be posting updates about this blog, my books, appearances, and more! You can find it <a href="https://www.facebook.com/MythDancer">here</a>.<br />
<br />
Today I'm continuing in my series about fairy tales without dead moms (or wicked stepmothers). The Story of
Bensurdatu is an Italian fairy tale which was included in Andrew
Lang's The Grey Fairy Book.</div>
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Our story begins with a king and queen
who have three beautiful daughters. They love the princesses very
much, and dote upon them constantly. When the girls request a
picnic, their parents are only too happy to oblige. Unfortunately,
dark magic strikes during the family outing. The princesses
disappear in a dark cloud, and no one in the kingdom knows where they
are.</div>
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Their parents
are devastated by their loss. They offer a great reward to anyone
who can find their daughters and return them home. Two mighty
generals set off in search of the princesses, but are unable to find
them. Only when a loyal family servant named Bensurdatu teams up
with the generals are they able to locate the girls.</div>
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Unfortunately, they discover that a terrifying monster holds the princesses hostage. The youngest princess aids Bensurdatu. With her help, he is able to slay the monster and rescue the girls. The
youngest falls in love with him, and swears to marry no man save
Bensurdatu.</div>
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However, the
generals are filled with jealousy at Bensurdatu's successful rescue.
They betray him and leave him stranded in the monster's lair, with no
way to escape. The girls are threatened into silence. The generals
return to the king and queen, claiming credit for the rescue. The
two eldest girls are married to them, while the youngest silently grieves.</div>
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Within the lair of the monster, Bensurdatu eventually finds a magical purse which
grants his wishes. </div>
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<a href="https://cdn.meme.am/instances/500x/68830568.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="342" data-original-width="500" height="218" src="https://cdn.meme.am/instances/500x/68830568.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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(Huzzah for convenient magical items!)</div>
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With its help he arrives in the kingdom aboard a
mighty ship, bedecked in fine clothing. No one recognizes the humble
servant. He is invited to dine with the king's family. During
dinner, Bensurdatu declares himself in love with the youngest
princess, and asks for her hand in marriage. The girl declines,
saying that she is sworn to marry no man save Bensurdatu.</div>
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He reveals
himself then, and the girl is overcome with joy. The king and queen
listen to Bensurdatu's story. They punish the generals by banishing
them from the land. Moved by the courage of their loyal servant, the
king and queen let him marry the princess.</div>
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The queen in this story is shown to be a loving mother. She dotes upon her daughters, but they are not spoiled. She mourns when they are taken. Along with the king, she searches for someone to rescue her girls. She is overjoyed at their return. And, when the mother learns that the princess is in love with a servant, she is willing to set aside tradition to allow them to marry. All in all, she's a pretty rockin' mom.</div>
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I hope you guys enjoyed! I've always liked The Story of Bensurdatu. If you're interested, you can read the full version of the story <a href="http://www.lefavoledilang.it/librogrigio10.html">here</a>.</div>
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Thanks for reading, and I'll see you next week!</div>
MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-77677401532302925162017-07-17T08:16:00.000-07:002017-08-28T08:55:17.238-07:00Fairy Tales Without Dead Moms (Or Wicked Stepmothers)Hey everyone! I have returned from both my hiatus and my sojourn in Japan (which was absolutely gorgeous!). Thanks for bearing with me while I took a much-needed vacation!<br />
<br />
I'm diving back into things with a series of posts about fairy tales. For two years on <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2017/05/mothers-myths-and-fairy-tales.html">Mother's Day</a>, I've taken a <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2015/05/happy-mothers-day.html">brief look</a> at some of the decent mothers within fairy tales and mythology. However, the list of moral moms in these stories is rather appallingly short. I dug a little bit deeper - and then a lot deeper - and then I threw myself into obscure stories I had never read before. It took a LOT of research, but I found ten fairy tales in which the mother is kind, caring, and doesn't die - or turn out to be a wicked stepmother!<br />
<br />
Because really, dead moms and wicked stepmothers are kind of a hallmark of fairy tales. It's difficult to find a fairy tale that isn't riddled with stereotypes, and the most popular archetypes which surround the main character seem to be the dead mother and the wicked stepmother. This is especially true of the more popular fairy tales. The Little Mermaid? Dead mom. Cinderella? Wicked stepmother. Beauty and the Beast? Dead mother again. Snow White? Evil stepmom.<br />
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So for the next several weeks, I'm going to be shining a light on fairy tales which break this mold. These stories come from all over the world, from Greece to Japan to France. If you can't wait and want to look up and read the stories now, here's the list:<br />
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<a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2015/05/sleeping-beautythe-story-of-sigurd.html">Little Brier-Rose</a><br />
<a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2015/01/issunboshi-kick-butt-thumbelina.html">Issunboshi</a><br />
<a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2017/01/snow-white-and-rose-red.html">Snow-White and Rose-Red</a><br />
<a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2015/04/the-little-green-frog.html">The Little Green Frog</a><br />
<a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2017/07/the-story-of-bensurdatu.html">The Story of Bensurdatu</a><br />
<a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2017/07/jack-and-beanstalk.html">Jack and the Beanstalk</a><br />
<a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2017/08/rosanella.html">Rosanella</a><br />
<a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2017/08/rumpelstiltskin.html">Rumpelstiltskin</a><br />
<a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2017/08/the-enchanted-snake.html">The Enchanted Snake</a><br />
The Sunchild<br />
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The first four of these stories I've talked about in previous posts, albeit without focusing on the mothers. Let's take a quick look at them now:<br />
<br />
Little Brier-Rose is perhaps better known by the name Sleeping Beauty. Throughout the
story, Brier-Rose's mom is shown to be a loving mother. She is
sorrowful before the birth of her daughter, joyous upon her arrival
into the world, and protective when the curse is placed. The story
ends with her rejoicing in the wedding of Brier-Rose to the prince.<br />
<br />
Issunboshi's mother wanted a child so badly that she prayed to the gods to grant her a baby. She promised to love the child even if it was as small as the tip of her finger. She kept that promise when the minuscule Issunboshi was born. From the moment of his birth to his departure from their home, his parents loved and supported him with all of their hearts.<br />
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<span style="color: black; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheL9n0w8_vUHrofbOWgcgjsjEAHtPnnmkjKjjquGASYtlRd7Qs9EUQuOw1iqjaqSpgnkUfBvDZmABowTlMQnvj78XGKubnBG0a_e2HVBJXzt1vsumwM8NEebAjv_bxXXpL-J2IXv737haV/s1600/Issunboshi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="420" data-original-width="281" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheL9n0w8_vUHrofbOWgcgjsjEAHtPnnmkjKjjquGASYtlRd7Qs9EUQuOw1iqjaqSpgnkUfBvDZmABowTlMQnvj78XGKubnBG0a_e2HVBJXzt1vsumwM8NEebAjv_bxXXpL-J2IXv737haV/s320/Issunboshi.jpg" width="214" /></a></span></div>
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Snow-White and Rose-Red is an interesting fairy tale, in that it is the father who never makes an appearance. Instead, the two girls are raised by only their mother. The woman teaches her daughters to be loving and kind, and respectful of all. She opens her home to a strange travelling bear and befriends him. When the bear turns out to be a prince, and the two girls marry into royalty, the mother goes with the girls to their new castle. She lives with them to the end of her days.</div>
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<span style="color: black; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKPimjtLtHUEmNtq1jrN5vEKQhwlYpFI6vjXSSC_cHPQUT5_P3Gs_da2op6MsxKuWJ4d7pAt6Ex_WWRLAqRrX76xPT8zEu1KpleZsLjHZZFmCCDhaJoLgxSZe-ateXoOuKHfWRgLEtyGY/s1600/Spinning+Snow+white+Rose+red+Mother+reading.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="377" data-original-width="800" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKPimjtLtHUEmNtq1jrN5vEKQhwlYpFI6vjXSSC_cHPQUT5_P3Gs_da2op6MsxKuWJ4d7pAt6Ex_WWRLAqRrX76xPT8zEu1KpleZsLjHZZFmCCDhaJoLgxSZe-ateXoOuKHfWRgLEtyGY/s1600/Spinning+Snow+white+Rose+red+Mother+reading.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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The Little Green Frog is an incredibly convoluted story, and is difficult to sum up briefly. It follows two families, both of which have wonderful mothers. (Spoiler! Though one of the moms appears to die, she turns out to be alive and well in the end.) One rules after her husband dies, and loves her daughter with all of her heart. The other was such a joy to her son and her husband that when she is taken by the fairies, the king grows dreadfully ill without her. Both moms rejoice with their families when reunited with them in the end.</div>
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I'll be back next week with The Story of Bensurdatu! See you then.</div>
</div>
MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-23694093438056485622017-05-22T00:42:00.004-07:002017-05-22T00:51:35.780-07:00Hephaestus: Revenge of the Blacksmith<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Hello all!</div>
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It has recently been brought to my
attention that I have never done a post about Hephaestus. This is an
enormous oversight on my part, because Hephaestus is one of my
favorite deities. After <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2014/12/hades-duty-amidst-debauchery.html">Hades</a>, <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2015/07/hestia-hearth-and-home.html">Hestia</a>, and <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2014/12/hermes-most-charming-thieving-scoundrel.html">Hermes</a>, he's my favorite
in the Greek pantheon. (...It appears that all of my favorites begin
with the letter H. Interesting.) At any rate, Hephaestus is
awesome. So, without further ado: Here's a post about him!</div>
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<a href="http://www.greek-mythology-pantheon.com/wp-content/uploads/Greek_Gods_and_Goddesses/Hephaestus_Vulcan_Greek_God/Hephaestus_Vulcan_Greek_God_Art_02_by_HardCoreDesigns.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://www.greek-mythology-pantheon.com/wp-content/uploads/Greek_Gods_and_Goddesses/Hephaestus_Vulcan_Greek_God/Hephaestus_Vulcan_Greek_God_Art_02_by_HardCoreDesigns.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The origins of Hephaestus are somewhat
unique among the gods. One of the more popular stories out of Greek
mythology is the birth of <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2014/12/odysseus-athena-and-penelope-clever-trio.html">Athena</a>. She sprang out of Zeus' head,
fully formed. As such, Athena was born of only one parent.</div>
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Hephaestus' birth is somewhat similar,
and in fact stemmed from the creation of Athena.</div>
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You may recall that <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2016/04/juno-wrathful-matron.html">Hera</a>, the wife of
Zeus, has never been particularly content with her husband's
philandering ways. In fact, she frequently goes out of her way to
make the lives of her spouse's <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2014/11/zeus-keep-it-in-your-pants-dude.html">various mistresses</a> exceptionally
miserable. You can probably guess that she was rather wrathful that
Zeus had a child without her.</div>
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So Hera did the natural thing – she
conceived a child all by herself, and gave birth to him. That'll
show Zeus!! – right?</div>
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(Yeah, I don't really understand her
reasoning either.)</div>
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Unfortunately, the child – Hephaestus
– was born with a deformity. It is frequently listed as shriveled
or curled feet. When Hera saw her son, she was horrified by his
deformity. She picked him up and flung him off of Mount Olympus,
winning the Mother of the Year award in the process.<br />
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Hera rejects her son.</div>
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(Can you see why I have serious issues
with Hera?)</div>
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Hephaestus somehow survived the fall.
He was taken in by nymphs and raised. Hephaestus grew to be a very
talented craftsman – specifically, blacksmithing.</div>
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When Hephaestus grew up, he got his
vengeance upon his mother. He forged a special golden throne and had
it shipped to Olympus for Hera. When the goddess sat in it, she
found herself unable to move!</div>
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Though the gods tried everything they
could think of, they were unable to free Hera. (I'm sure some of the
pantheon were rather amused by her difficult circumstances. Hera was
not always the most popular goddess.) Eventually they reached out to
Hephaestus, hoping that the god who had built the chair would be able
to free her from it. However, the crippled deity refused. In his
mind, his mother had received her just comeuppance.</div>
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<a href="https://www.mintteaandelephants.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/08/the-mummy-beni.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="155" src="https://www.mintteaandelephants.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/08/the-mummy-beni.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>Always.</i></div>
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Hera was only freed when Dionysus, god of wine and partying, got Hephaestus drunk and convinced him to release his mother from her chair-y prison.</div>
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Interestingly enough, Hera is not the only deity to be imprisoned in a creation of Hephaestus:</div>
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Aphrodite, goddess of love, became the consort/spouse of the blacksmithing god. It was an interesting mix; she, who was named the most beautiful of all the goddesses by Paris of Troy, married to a god so misshapen that his own mother tried to kill him out of disgust. The marriage was brought about by Zeus and Hera, and it was not a happy one. Aphrodite frequently cheated on her husband. One of her adulterous lovers was none other than Hephaestus' own brother, Ares.</div>
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When Hephaestus found out about the affair, he crafted more than just a plan. He created a chain of magical links, and bound them above Aphrodite's bed. The next time she and Ares started going at it, the trap was sprung. The lovers found themselves wrapped in chains, naked and unable to move. Hephaestus found them shortly thereafter.</div>
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(The most PG picture I could find of the affair. However!)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhaJ7yq4AuXnzkP1WnQUnQ5j3aQsjNpBmXJLeqz269euEeDiLoGqNZ6wbsta1evEdY5UiMGXXBs4iddXsyFaTF26AaXk4TcqhvspsL_LKq14FG6Qu9kVO5ObEfpRKOxj6VBnel1N_8cyQ4/s1600/Hephaestus1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhaJ7yq4AuXnzkP1WnQUnQ5j3aQsjNpBmXJLeqz269euEeDiLoGqNZ6wbsta1evEdY5UiMGXXBs4iddXsyFaTF26AaXk4TcqhvspsL_LKq14FG6Qu9kVO5ObEfpRKOxj6VBnel1N_8cyQ4/s1600/Hephaestus1.jpg" /></a></div>
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(Look at his face! That is one fed-up god.)</div>
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Hephaestus dragged them before the rest of the gods. They were humiliated, and made to pay a fine for their crime.</div>
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His disability may have caused him hardship, but Hephaestus rose above it to join the other Olympians in the home of the gods. Though many viewed him as hideous, his craftsmanship was gorgeous and second to none.</div>
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And that, my friends, is Hephaestus.</div>
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I hope you enjoyed the post! It is my last one for the next several weeks. As a reminder, I am going on temporary hiatus because I'll be out of the country. I shall return mid-July, ish. Take care all, and I'll see you upon my return!</div>
MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-82763466760371178532017-05-15T14:10:00.001-07:002017-05-15T14:10:07.739-07:00Mothers: Myths and Fairy TalesFirst off, let me wish you all a happy late Mother's Day! I hope all the mothers reading this had a wonderful day.<br />
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Considering how very important the role of mother is in our lives, they tend to get a very bad rap in a lot of myths and fairy tales. I've talked before about Hera, the step-mom from hell; about Aphrodite, who treated her daughter-in-law in an absolutely terrible fashion; and let us not forget Demeter, who couldn't protect her daughter from being stolen into a marriage against her will. And that's just the <i>Greek </i>pantheon!<br />
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Fairy tales have it even worse. We're all familiar with evil, wicked stepmothers - why, my <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2017/05/the-six-swans.html">last post</a> had both an evil stepmom <i>and </i>an awful mother-in-law! There's also a lot of fairy tales with absentee mothers. Disney has helped perpetuate this stereotype by predominantly making films with evil mother-like figures - or by having the mom just be absent.<br />
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And yet, for all of the focus that the nasty mothers of myths and fairy tales get...there are actually an awful lot of good ones as well.<br />
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Take Greek mythology. I find it hard to say much good about Hera, given how much I loathe her treatment of Hephaestus and Zeus' bastard children. Despite this, she <i>is</i> the goddess of marriage and the family. In both her Greek and Roman forms (<a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2016/04/juno-wrathful-matron.html">Juno</a>), she was regarded as a motherly figure to whom many prayed for mercy, guidance, and a strengthening of family bonds.<br />
Aphrodite may have been a nightmare to <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2015/05/cupid-and-psyche.html">Psyche</a>, but her Roman form, Venus, was pretty much the ultimate mom. She led her son Aeneas to safety in the midst of a war, and helped him to start his own kingdom elsewhere...which eventually led to the foundation of Rome.<br />
And <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2015/06/demeter-persephone-and-hades.html">Demeter</a>? Zeus may have given their daughter over to Hades without her permission, but Demeter fought for Persephone with everything she had. She roamed the earth, searching for her daughter. Eventually she destroyed all crops and brought about a winter, which she promised would end with either the death of all mankind (and therefore the gods, since mankind was their source of worship) or the return of her daughter. Not many can go up against Zeus and win, but Demeter loved her daughter so much that she was able to tie with him; Persephone got to return to her mother for half of every year.<br />
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So alright, sure, there are some pretty swell examples of motherhood in mythology (<a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2015/06/frigg-shes-friggin-awesome.html">Frigg</a> in the Norse myths remains a favorite of mine)...but what about fairy tales?<br />
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The Evil Queen from <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2017/01/snow-white.html">Snow White</a> is a pretty famous villain...so much so that Snow White's birth mom is usually forgotten. In fact, she spent much of her marriage longing for a child, and loved Snow so much that she died bringing her into the world.<br />
Another fairy tale, <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2017/01/snow-white-and-rose-red.html">Snow White and Rose Red</a> (which is completely different from Snow White) has a single mother raising two daughters in by herself. She obviously loves them, and has raised them to be kind, wonderful young ladies.<br />
There's a fairy tale archetype which I haven't talked about yet, but which has a common motif. In it, the mother rejoices so much in the birth of her child that she dies. She is buried, and a tree sprouts over her grave. In times of trouble, her child goes out and cries in front of the tree, which usually whispers words of comfort and wisdom. In some versions of this story, such as The Juniper Tree, a child dies and is brought back to life thanks to the tree. The mother cares so strongly for her child that she looks out for them even after death.<br />
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And it seems that Disney has recently recognized its dearth of strong, motherly roles, because its last few films have had some great ones. Moana's mom - and especially her grandmother - believed in their girl and wanted her happy. The live action Beauty and the Beast finally addressed the question of what had happened to Belle's mom, and it is obvious how much she cared for her child. The live action Cinderella also shows that it was Cinderella's birth mother who instilled in her such great kindness and compassion for others - traits that not even her wicked stepmother could squash. The Princess and the Frog's Tiana has a wonderful mother in Eudora.<br />
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Stories tend to focus on the bad parents, and it's far too easy for us to do the same. Today, I wanted to take a look at the quiet love lurking behind the scenes - at the loving mothers who are there, if we only look for them.MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218958496407310912.post-20732139439417449442017-05-07T21:19:00.000-07:002017-05-07T21:19:13.300-07:00The Six SwansHello all!<br />
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Today I wanted to take a look at a fairy tale I really enjoy. There's several different versions of it (the one by the Grimms is, of course, significantly more violent), but the one I know best comes from Andrew Lang's <i>The Yellow Fairy Book.</i> The story itself is called The Six Swans. Shall we begin?<br />
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Once upon a time there was a king who was out hunting with his court. The king got himself quite lost in the woods, and found himself hungry and thirsty, with no idea where he was or how to get back. He wandered for a time before he met an old woman - a witch.<br />
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The witch told the king that without her help, he would never find his way out of the woods. He would die of starvation, all alone. Left with no choice, the king begged the witch for help. She led him to her home, where her daughter, a beautiful maiden, sat waiting. (The book actually says "She received the King as if she were expecting him" - I've always wondered if the witch or her daughter cast some spell to get the king lost.)<br />
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A deal was offered by the witch. If the king married her daughter, she would show him the way out of the forest. On the surface, the deal was not a bad one; the witch's daughter was quite beautiful and well behaved. Yet a sense of dread filled the king every time he looked at her. Left with no choice, the king reluctantly accepted the witch's offer. He and the witch's daughter left the woods, and were soon married at his castle.<br />
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This was not the king's marriage. He was a widower, and his previous wife had given him seven children: six boys and one girl. The king's sense of unease about his new spouse lingered, and he feared for the safety of his children. Without telling her of their existence, he whisked the seven children away to a small castle in the woods, where they could live in safety.<br />
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But the king was a doting father, and he did not like to be separated from his children. Because of this, he visited them frequently, disappearing into the woods for hours at a time. The queen took note of this, and did not like his absences. Since the king refused to tell her where he went, she bribed some of his servants, who admitted to the existence of the children. (Since girls were considered inconsequential at the time, only the boys were mentioned. As such, the queen thought that there were only six kids.)<br />
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The queen did not like that at all. Her mother had taught her some of her witchcraft, so she set out for the castle with magic in hand - six enchanted shirts she had sewn. When the children saw a rider approaching they ran to meet it, expecting their father. However, the daughter was more cautious, and stayed back to watch. She was horrified to see the queen throw the shirts over her six brothers. One by one, the boys fell to the ground...where they transformed into swans!<br />
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The queen rode back to the castle, satisfied that her job was done. As for the swans, they flew off into the night, leaving the king's daughter all alone.<br />
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When the king came to visit the next day, he was horrified to find his sons missing. The princess explained everything that had happened to him, but she did not know that the attacker was the queen. Not wanting to lose his only remaining child, the king begged his daughter to return with him to the castle. However, she was afraid of the place, and instead ran away.<br />
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After she grew tired of running, the princess found shelter in a tiny cottage. There were six beds within the home, and she fell asleep underneath one of them. She awoke to the sound of wings. Six swans were flying in through the window. One by one they landed - and then they transformed into her brothers.<br />
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The boys were delighted to see their sister, and much hugging ensued. However, they warned her that she could not stay in the cottage, as its owners were rough brigands. They sadly told her that they would be unable to protect her, for the curse only allowed them to transform back into humans for fifteen minutes each evening.<br />
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The princess wanted nothing more than to find a way to break the curse on her brothers. They told her that such a thing was impossible, and that the effort required would be too great. Undaunted, she demanded to know what she needed to do.<br />
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In order to break the curse, the brothers explained, the princess would need to spend six years in complete silence. She could not speak a word, or even utter a laugh. In addition, she would need to sew six shirts out of starflowers. (In the Brothers Grimm version of the story, the shirts must be sewn out of nettles - a plant which would be significantly more painful to work with.) Despite their warnings about its difficulty, the princess vowed to do this in order to save her brothers.<br />
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With their fifteen minutes up, the brothers transformed back into swans and flew away.<br />
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With her brothers gone, the princess found a tree and climbed it to sleep. As soon as she awoke the next morning, she gathered as many starflowers as she could find. The princess began to sew.<br />
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Some time passed, and there came a day when huntsmen stumbled upon the tree the princess was sewing in. They hailed her, but she did not answer. Question after question they asked her, but the girl continued to sew in silence. When they continued to bother her, she threw down her jewelry in the hopes of quieting them; when that did not work, she began to throw down her clothing, one piece at a time.<br />
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The huntsmen were soon joined by their king, who ruled over a nearby land. He was struck with curiosity about the girl, who still refused to speak. The tree was climbed, and the princess carried down to be presented to the king. He flung his cloak around her and put her on his horse. They rode back to his castle together.<br />
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Even though she was voiceless, it didn't take long for the king to fall in love with the beautiful princess. Soon they were married, and she became his queen.<br />
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But not everyone in the kingdom was happy about this. The king's mother still lived in the castle, and she was an evil, conniving woman. She disliked the new queen, and was distrustful of her silence. She began to spread nasty rumors about the queen.<br />
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Time passed, and the queen kept true to her word - she never spoke, or laughed, and she sewed every day on the shirts. Eventually she became pregnant, and bore a child to the king. However, as soon as the child was born, the king's mother whisked it away. She spread a rumor that the queen had killed the child. The king refused to believe it, but the queen remained silent on the matter, simply taking up her sewing once more.<br />
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Again the queen became pregnant, and once more the king's mother stole away the child, claiming that the queen had killed it. The king still refused to believe that his gentle wife could do such a thing, but she was unable to speak up in her own defense. When the third child of the king and queen likewise disappeared, the king was left with no choice but to turn his wife over to the castle guards. She was sentenced to be burned at the stake the next day.<br />
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All the while, the queen continued to sew. When dawn came and she was lead away to the stake to face her punishment, she took the shirts with her. They were all finished, save for the left sleeve on the sixth shirt.<br />
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It so happened that the day she was to be burned alive was also the last day of the six years of her silence. As the queen was led to the stake, she looked up and saw six swans flying towards her. She smiled then.<br />
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The swans swooped in, and the queen flung a shirt onto each of them. One by one, the swans transformed back into her brothers. (One of them was left with a wing instead of a left arm, because he wore the shirt that she had been unable to complete.)<br />
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Her trial completed, the queen stepped down from the stake and approached her husband, who was staring in wonder at the swans-to-men. She spoke to him for the first time, and told him that she was now free to defend herself against the allegations of his mother. The queen explained that it was the king's mother who had stolen their children. The castle was searched, the children were found, and they were brought before their father.<br />
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The king's mother was punished for her wickedness. (In some versions of the story, she is attacked by the swans before they are turned back into princes. In others, she is so overcome with rage at her plan's failure that she falls into a fit and dies.)<br />
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As for the king and queen, they lived in joy and peace with the six brothers for the rest of their days.<br />
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What did you guys think of the story? If it sounds familiar, there's a good reason why. There are an enormous number of fairy tales in which the female is unable to speak for some reason (The Little Mermaid is a great example of this). There are also many in which children are transformed into birds. Sometimes these are other fowl, such as ravens - but this particular version of the story used swans for a reason. Its origins lie in the Celtic myth of The Children of Lir, which I discussed in an <a href="http://mythdancer.blogspot.com/2015/08/the-children-of-lir-here-today-swan.html">earlier post</a>.<br />
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I hope you guys enjoyed! I had a great time looking for pictures to use for this post. I'll be back next week with another story!MythDancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14226066124360903333noreply@blogger.com0