King Thrushbeard

I took a couple of passes at this story before I found one I liked. Versions of this story exist all throughout Europe, including one version by the Brothers Grimm. Though the title of the story, the cruel name given to the king and the exact nature of the trick played on the princess are different, they generally end with the princess learning her lesson and living happily ever after. As the story does fall into the "Taming of the Shrew" category of story, however, I am forced to cross my fingers and hope that my readers understand that the deception played upon our princess is due to her being a genuinely unpleasant and mean person, and not just because "a woman needs to know her place" or some other such sexist nonsense.

Let’s face it, kids n’ people: Times have changed. We have cars instead of horses, horses instead of bicycles, bicycles instead of unicycles, polar bears instead of—

(NOTE: This introduction has been abandoned as it was clearly nonsense)

Times have changed. Especially for you lady-types who may or probably not be reading this. Today, you can do whatever you want. Do any job, use any last name, live anywhere, marry whoever you want, marry no one, have babies, don’t have babies. The world is your oyster…unless you don’t like oysters, in which case the world can be, like, your linguini or something. Maybe with some shrimp in there. Or is it shellfish you don’t like?

(This is your last warning!)

Okay, sorry. What I’m trying to say is that being a woman has changed a lot since this story took place. Back then, a young girl had only one job in life: Marry well and bear many sons. This was true of all girls, be they poor or really quite wealthy. Common or ever-so-royal. So whether you were Gwen, the nice girl whose dad was the village smithy, or Princess Caroline, when you reached that certain age (18, in this case) it was time to get engaged.

So Princess Caroline knew that she would have to marry and be beholden to her husband and do what he said and keep his house and raise his children. But Princess Caroline wasn’t just a rich, beautiful princess…she was also selfish, haughty, vain and good-old-fashioned spoiled rotten! She thought she was the most wonderful and important person in all the world, and she refused to marry anybody who wasn’t good enough for her. Suitors came from miles around to seek her hand in marriage, but she invariably found something wrong with each and every one.

“I’m not marrying you! You look like you’re already in love…with pastries!” she said to a slightly overweight prince.

“That nose of yours would put out my eye if I tried to kiss you!” she chortled to a very nice nobleman who had a slightly big nose.

“And you…” she started to say to another suitor, but stopped once she got a look at him. This man, a king from a neighboring country, was actually very handsome. But still not quite perfect in Caroline’s eyes. “Is that your beard,” she asked pointing at the king’s chin, “or did a thrush fly into your face and get stuck there?”

This was too much for her father. Insulting another king to his face like that! He scolded her most violently and vowed then and there that, whether she liked it or not, she would be married to the next poor beggar who came to the castle.

As it turned out, the king didn’t have to wait very long to make good on his promise. The very next day a poor beggar man with a dirty face and a long, slightly frightening beard came knocking at the back door asking for something to eat. “He’ll get more than that!” declared the king, and within an hour, the deed was done: Caroline and the beggar were married!

Now, I know that, ordinarily, the part of the story right after the wedding is the part where I say “And they all lived happily ever after,” but that’s not really how it went down this time. Caroline was horrified at being forcibly married to this beggar man with a dirty face and a long, slightly frightening beard (sometimes it looked like something might be living in it). She begged her father to relent, but he was immovable. He told her it was her own fault for being so haughty and cruel and that it would teach her a much needed lesson in humility. But all Caroline felt was sorry for herself as she rode with her new husband to his shack.

On the long trip away from her home in the castle to the home of this weird little beggar man, they passed through a rich, beautiful forest. “This is a rich, beautiful forest,” said Caroline. “I wonder who owns this land?”

“This is the forest of King Thrushbeard,” said the beggar man, referring to the suitor Caroline had slighted the night before. “And it might have been yours.”

Caroline thought about this and fell into silent despair. After they left the forest, they came to a quaint, fertile stretch of prosperous farmland. “What beautiful farms,” said Caroline. “I wonder whose they are?”

“This is the farmland of King Thrushbeard,” said the beggar man. “And it might have been yours.”

Again, the realization of all her vanity had cost her struck Caroline mute. Until they came to a village which sat next to a beautiful castle, perhaps even more extravagant than her own. “What a beautiful place this is,” she said. “I wonder whose—”

“King Thrushbeard!” said the irritated beggar man. “Might’ve been yours. Well, here we are! Home sweet home!”

The look of horror and disgust on Caroline’s face would be pointless attempting to describe, so I’ll just describe the shack she was looking at…actually “shack” might be a little too generous. Maybe hovel…or cave…actually, it could’ve passed for a large mouse hole it was so shabby and rundown. But, Caroline knew it was her home now and there was nothing she could do about it.

The first days of Caroline’s new life were curious and more than a little depressing. Her husband woke her with the sun so she could start on the housework and the chores while he was out all day doing who knows what (well, I do, but I can’t tell you yet). You wouldn’t think a house so small would have kept Caroline as busy as it did, but being unaccustomed to labor of any kind, it did take her most of the day to get the place clean. Then her husband returned and they shared a meager meal of bread and stale cheese with a small bottle of really bad wine (or really good vinegar, neither was quite sure). After dinner, they were both so tired that they went straight to bed--or rather, straight to cot--and before they fell asleep, Caroline’s poor, oddly-bearded husband whispered in her ear: “I love you.” She didn’t say it back.

So it was from then on. Up in the morning, husband gone, lots of housework, terrible dinner, bedtime, “I love you,” and she still never said it back. As the days wore on and Caroline grew more accustomed to the housework, it took her less time and she had a chance to go out into the village. She didn’t have as much money as she was used to, but she was able to buy a few little tinkets to make her life slightly more bearable. A few new things to wear, some good wine, sofa pillows, candles, and other things which pass for "necessities" if you're a girl.

Don't deny it, you know it's true.

Her husband was, of course, quick to notice the improvements and complimented her on what a good homemaker she had become. She found she felt good when her husband complimented her. And that’s when it struck her. People had been complimenting her all her life. For her grace and beauty and other princessly attributes. Before she had just said something like “Yes, I know,” and ignored the person who had said it. But when her husband complimented her, she actually liked it. She said thank you. It took her a while before she realized that it was because he really meant it. What she did really mattered to him. What she was doing was actually for him. And she got tremendous satisfaction doing something for someone else, which she had little-to-no experience with before her marriage.

That night, they went to bed, and before faling asleep, our beggar man whispered into Caroline’s ear, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” said Caroline and fell into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning Caroline awoke to a shock. She was not lying on the straw mat she had been when she went to sleep. She was not wearing the cheap nightgown she had put on after dinner. She was, in short, not in the shack. She was lying on a big, soft (but not too soft) bed with satin sheets, exquisite curtains, goosedown pillows and it was all in a big, lavish bedroom, even grander than the one she had known in her father’s palace.

“Good morning, darling,” said a voice. Caroline looked up and just imagine her surprise when she saw…King Thrushbeard? “I hope you slept well. In fact, I’m sure you did or you would’ve woken up when I was carrying you here from our shack.”

“Our…shack?” was all Caroline could manage to say.

The King laughed. Then, in answer to her question, reached into his coat pocket and removed the long, frightening beard which he'd been wearing as a disguise. “I’m sorry to say that I’ve been deceiving you. Your father and I felt that you should be taught a lesson after that comment you made about my beard, so we hatched this little plan. I dressed up as a beggar with a really scary beard and took you away to that awful, rundown hovel where we’ve lived for the past several weeks.”

“You mean, all this time…you’ve been the king?”

“That’s where I was all day. Running the country. My advisors probably thought I’d gone mad when they saw me putting on this awful beard and sneaking down to that shack every evening for dinner.”

“You could’ve been in the castle, having banquets with the finest food in the—”

“I promise you, I was much happier having bread and wine with you,” said the King. “Or vinegar, I guess. We never did figure that one out.” He took Caroline’s hand, a sorrowful expression crossing his face. “I am sorry to play such a trick on you. It hurt me every day to lie to you. But I knew the day would come when you would answer me when I said ‘I love you,’ and it did. So now, the choice is yours.”

“What choice?”

“The truth is, we were never really married. Not legally. Which means now you have a choice. You can go back to your father’s castle and marry some other suitor…or you can stay with me. Marry me all over again.”

Now, you might think that Caroline would be furious at the King for playing this insanely elaborate, beard-related hoax on her. And maybe, somewhere inside, she was a little mad. But more than that, she was grateful. She looked back at the person she was when this whole thing started and she felt sick. How could she have thought so highly of herself that she didn’t think anyone would ever be good enough for her? How could she have been so cruel to such nice people? But living with King Thrushbeard all this time had taught her a lesson she would not soon forget.

And, so, there was a royal wedding. And this time I do get to say that they lived happily ever after…you know, cuz, before I didn’t get to say that and this time I do. Cuz they did, this time. I mean, they didn’t really get married last time, but this time they did and they wed and wedded and welded and were as happy as a penguin on a pogo stick on his way to the—

(Okay, you were warned!)

THE END






Next Week: Shelly Hobbes returns!

The Prince Frog

This is another one from ‘Fractured Fairy Tales.’ They ran it under the title “The Frog Prince,” but I think my title is more fitting. I think the reason this story has stayed with me for so many years is that under the jokes and the funny voices (courtesy of Daws Butler, who also voiced Yogi Bear and Huckleberry Hound) there is a genuine love story here. Falling in love means you’re willing to do anything to be with someone. Being in love means you’re willing to do anything for someone. As you’ll see:

There was once upon a time a country that was entirely overrun with witches. They were everywhere, you couldn’t move for witches back then. It finally got so bad that there were more witches than there were people to bewitch. It was perfectly common to see two witches literally fighting over a peasant saying:

“Let go! I want to put him to sleep for a thousand years!”

“No, you let go! I want to turn him into a chair!”

“Well I want…a chair? That’s a weird thing to turn somebody into.”

“I’m running out of ideas! So sue me!”

One day a little witch was walking through the woods, desperate to cast a spell on someone when she came upon a little pond where she saw a frog sitting on a lily pad.

“Good morning!” said the frog, with the customary friendliness for which frogs are known.

“Not so good for you, dearie,” said the witch. “Because I’m going to cast a spell on you.”

But the frog just laughed. “I’m already a frog! What are you gonna do? Turn me into a handsome prince?”

“Say! That’s an idea!” With that the witch waved her wand and the frog became a handsome young prince…a human prince, in case that wasn’t clear…not that frogs have monarchies so…never mind.

“What?” cried the frog…I mean prince. “No! I don’t want to be a prince! Change me back into a frog!”

“Never! You are doomed to be a handsome prince forever!” And with a wicked cackle, she was gone.

The poor frog…that is the poor prince…well, he was really a frog but…looked, let’s just call him Filbert, okay? So, poor Filbert was very depressed and even though he tried to adjust to being a prince, he found his life just wasn’t the same. He couldn’t croak, he couldn’t catch flies, he couldn’t sit on lily pads (he almost drowned three times before he gave that up). In the end he realized he was just going to have to find a witch to turn him back into a frog and he set forth.

But he didn’t meet any witches on his travels (which was sort of surprising, come to think of it). Instead he met a beautiful princess who, despite his insistence that he was a frog, fell in love with Filbert. Feeling it would be impolite to refuse a princess, Filbert agreed to marry Princess Sylvia and they moved into a beautiful home together. Knowing that her eccentric husband was fond of nature, the princess had a beautiful back garden added to the house and Prince Filbert would walk through it for hours every day, dreaming of the days when he was a frog.

One day while he was out walking, a witch passed by. Imagine her surprise at seeing a genuine, honest-to-goodness prince! And not even under a spell! So, without any further ado, she announced that she was going to turn the prince into…a chair!

“No, a frog!”

“Good idea! A frog’s much better!” And Filbert was a frog once again.

Princess Sylvia tried to understand, but it wasn’t easy being married to a prince in the morning and a frog in the evening. Nevertheless she had come to love her husband very much and so she had a big, beautiful pond added to the garden where she could go visit her frog-prince-husband-guy whenever she wanted.

Well, as fate would have it, that same witch who started this whole silly business came by one day and recognized Filbert from the first spell. That’s funny, she thought. Normally my spells last longer than that. Oh well, we’ll just have to try something else. And with a wave of her wand, Filbert became…a chicken?

“Okay! That does it!” said Filbert and he marched…or whatever chickens do that’s most like marching…straight into the forest where he found the SHCOW meeting place: That’s Secret High Council of Witches. They were the group that sort of oversaw all witchcraft in the area. Sort of a Witches’ Union, you might say. Filbert went straight to the Head Witch, Griselda, and said, “Now look: First I was a frog, and I was happy. Then I was a prince, then I was almost a chair, then I was a frog again, and now I’m a chicken! I’m getting tired of this. Tell your witches to leave me alone!”

“Sorry, sir,” said Griselda. “We normally make it a point not to persecute any one person like this, but times are hard for us witches. Anyway, I’ll put you on the official ‘no-curse’ list, if you like and I’ll even change you back to your preferred form right now. So, what’ll it be?”

Of course, Filbert’s first thought was that he wanted to be a frog again. But then he thought about Sylvia. How she had humored him in his belief that he was a frog, how she had been so patient with his long walks in the garden, how she had let him live in the pond because she thought it would make him happy. She had done so much to make him happy; now, it was his turn. He knew what he had to do:

“I wanna be a prince!”

“Sure thing,” said Griselda and with a wave of her wand, the chicken was gone, and in its place was…a big, shaggy sheepdog? “Here, Prince. Good boy, Prince.”

“Not this kind of prince!”

“Oh, sorry.” So, Griselda waved her magic wand again and this time Filbert was a cat. Then a parakeet. Then a garden snail. Then a buffalo. Then a chair. And, finally, the frog he was at the start of all this nonsense. “Sorry, sir,” said the exhausted witch. “All that bewitching has rewritten your internal biology. It’s hard to explain, but I’ll never be able to make you a prince again.”

Filbert was confused and very unhappy as he thanked Griselda for trying and hopped on home. He didn’t know what he was going to say to his wife. But when he got back home, he found the house was empty. Sylvia was nowhere to be seen. Then he thought perhaps she was looking for him back in the pond so he hopped to the garden and when he reached the pond…there, sitting on his favorite lily pad, was the most beautiful girl-frog Filbert had ever seen. And, somehow, though he didn’t know how, he knew exactly who she was.

“Sylvia?”

Yes, it was! It turns out that while Filbert had been thinking of becoming a prince to make her happy, she had decided that the only way she could be happy was to be with Filbert. And if Filbert needed to be a frog to be happy, then a frog is just what she’d be, too. She marched straight out into the woods and ordered the first witch she met to turn her into a frog. The confused witch obliged and Sylvia hopped back to the pond to wait for Filbert.

No one ever knew what happened to the prince and princess. Their house soon feel into disrepair and another couple moved in and rebuilt it about two years later. By now the witch crisis was over and they felt it was once again safe to bring up children in the neighborhood and, before long, two beautiful little kids joined the family. And every day after their lessons, they would come straight home and run right out to the back where there was a little lilly pond which was very cozy and inviting and, in residence, two friendly frogs and a whole lot of little pollywogs living very happily ever after.

THE END

NEXT WEEK: Something short, I promise!

Rapunzel

Next Wednesday, Disny’s newest animated fairy tale opens in theatres nationwide. Though it is called Tangled, it is based on this classic tale from the Brothers Grimm, though it has been given a decidely different slant. I just thought that I should bring out my version first, knowing full well that it will suffer by comparison.

No theme seems more prevalent in these tales than the suffering of beautiful women at the hands of jealous, ugly witches. This particular story, however, has an interesting twist, which was explored most expertly by James Lapine and songwriter Stephen Sondheim in their Tony-winning musical Into the Woods. Here the witch keeps Rapunzel not as a trophy, but as a daughter. She truly loves Rapunzel (or as close as she can come to love) and wishes to shield her from the outside world. But her love is selfish, and leads to her eventual destruction, as does all love which is anything less than pure and selfless.

And if you don’t believe that kind of love can exist, you are most definitely reading the wrong blog…heck, you’re probably reading the wrong author.

  

M

any, many years ago, back when you weren’t even born, a baker and his wife lived in a little house near the woods. They were not wealthy, but had everything they really needed. Indeed, the Baker’s Wife was expecting a child.

The funny thing about women when they’re in a family way, is that they tend to get unusual cravings. Some mothers-to-be like odd flavors of ice cream or bizarre food combinations like watermelon and chop suey (ew!). But the Baker’s Wife had a different sort of appetite. See, her bedroom window overlooked the most beautiful vegetable garden in the world. She told her husband that she absolutely needed a salad made from that lettuce.

The funny thing about men whose wives are in a family way, is that they tend to do all manner of stupid things to make their brides happy. Ordinarily, of course, the Baker would not dare fetch any vegetables from that garden, because that garden was kept by a wicked old witch with terrible dark powers. But, the flora of the Witch cast a strange spell on the wife, and she refused all food except the Witch’s Lettuce, so the Baker agreed.

That night, when the Witch was sure to be asleep, he climbed over the garden wall and started picking as many heads of lettuce as he could carry. And just when he had all he could carry and was on his way back over the wall he heard a voice from behind him cry out:

“Stop, thief!”

A bolt of power struck him and he fell from the wall. He looked up and saw the Witch standing over him! A horrible, ugly witch with a hump and a clawlike hand which clutched her magic staff.

“How dare you defile my garden!” cried the Witch. “I should turn you into…into…well, something pretty bad, I can tell you!”

“Please, Madame Witch,” pleaded the Baker. “Have mercy!” He had to say this a few times because the witch wasn’t really listening. She was trying to decide what to change him into.

“Mercy?” she said when she finally snapped out of it. “Why should I be merciful to a petty thief?”

“I’m not a thief, honestly. I only wanted your vegetables for my wife. She is with child and has an uncontrollable desire for greens! And, as everyone knows yours are the finest vegetables in all the kingdom…” This was a pretty lame attempt at sucking up and the witch knew it, but she did stay her hand.

The truth is that witches are not necessarily vindictive and merciless. And this one appreciated the Baker’s predicament. If his wife said she wanted the witch’s lettuce, what could a devoted husband do? And, after all, she had plenty of vegetables to spare…but, darn it, that lettuce was her favorite! And she couldn’t let him get away with it!

“All right,” she said when she had reached her decision. “You may take as much as you wish. But listen well! If you want something from me, I demand something from you!”

“But what could a humble Baker own that is of any value to a witch? We have nothing of any great worth!”

“Don’t you? Did you or did you not, just tell me that your wife was going to have a baby?”

In a fit of desperation, the deal was made. And soon thereafter, the Baker’s Wife gave birth to a beautiful daughter. They begged and pleaded, but the Witch would have none of it. A bargain had been made and the Witch intended the Baker to honor it. However, before she left with the child, she made the Baker and his Wife a promise: That she would protect the child from the evils of the world. And with that, the witch vanished into the night with her stolen daughter.

Seventeen years went by, and the little girl (whom the Witch had named “Rapunzel,” being another word for lettuce) had grown into a great beauty. Fair of skin, fair of voice, fair of manner, fair of eyes…and her hair…well, that was the most remarkable thing of all. She had never had it cut, so it grew down to her feet and well past. She had to be careful when she moved, for fear it would snag on something…

Not that she had that much room in which to move. For, you see, the Witch had been as good as her word to the Baker and his Wife, if not better. She had taken tremendous steps to protect Rapunzel from the outside world. She had even built a large tower in the middle of the forest and shut Rapnuzel inside. She was high above the ground and the tower had no doors, or stairs, and only one small window at the very top. The only way the Witch could get in or out was to climb Rapunzel’s hair like a rope! When she wanted to visit, she stood at the base of the tower and sang out:

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair

That I may climb the golden stair!

Every time she heard this, Rapunzel was to lower her hair for the Witch to climb up. Once inside, the Witch would bring food or drink, give Rapunzel lessons or simply talk pleasantly of this and that.

Poor Rapunzel. She longed to see the world with her own eyes. Meet people, have adventures…get a bloody haircut! But the Witch said no. There are dangerous things out in the world, and she would not let Rapunzel get herself into trouble. It looked as if no one would be able to free Rapunzel from her unfortunate predicament…

Nobody, that is, until one day, when Prince Roger was traveling through the forest with his right hand man, Count Basie (an unfortunate coincidence). Roger was an adventurer, and always eager to try new things. He saw the world as a challenge to be faced and fought. Count Basie, for his part, wished that his master would go a little easy sometimes, or at least stop forcing the Poor Count to go with him.

Today they were getting lost. Prince Roger would often get deliberately and hopelessly lost, just to see how fast he could find his way again. In this case, however, he was getting loster than he’d ever lost before. Deeper and deeper into the heart of the forest until, if he took one more step, he’d officially be moving out of the forest.

That sentence makes sense, just think about it for a minute.

“Congratulations,” said Count Basie, sarcastically. “You’ve gotten yourself hopelessly lost in uncharted forest to die miserabley of starvation and/or cold. What are you going to do next?”

“First I’m going to fire my sarcastic companion,” said the Prince. “Don’t worry, Count Basie, this is easy. We’ll be out of here in no time. Just listen for birdsong and that will tell us roughly where we are.”

The men listened, and they did hear a song. But it was not a bird’s song. No bird could sing this beautifully. Birds got into fights over who sounded more like this voice. It was a woman’s voice. The most beautiful voice Prince Roger had ever heard. Without waiting for the Count, he pulled his horse’s reins and sped through the woods after the voice.

It was then that he saw Rapunzel’s Tower. He saw the Witch approaching it and calling out:

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair

That I may climb the golden stair!

And within moments, a beuatiful rope of flaxon hair was lowered and the Witch climbed it and dissapeared within. But this was all Prince Roger needed to hear to know exactly what was happening. The girl, apparently called “Rapunzel” was being held prisoner in this tower by that horrible Witch. He could barely see her through her tiny window as she pulled up her hair, but what he saw was lovely and graceful. And she sang beautifully. This, he reasoned, was enough to rescue her by.

“We should return to the palace,” said Count Basie.

“Yes,” said Roger, not daring to take his eyes away fro Rapunzel. “But tomorrow I will return to this spot, and rescue Rapunzel before that horrible Witch returns.” He said this with great determination, then proceeded to navigate his way out of the woods in less than five minutes.

The next day, Rapunzel was reading a book when she heard a familiar phrase:

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair

That I may climb the golden stair!

Obediently, Rapunzel lowered her hair in the usual way. She started wrapping it around the bedpost about a foot and a half from her scalp and lowered the rest out the window so that the tugging wouldn’t hurt her (you’d be surprised how long it took her to figure that one out). She was shocked, however, when her visitor turned out to be not the Witch, but rather a handsome young man in expensive-looking clothes. Indeed, he looked every bit like a prince from a picture book…which, I guess, he is, in a sense.

“Who are you?” she said.

“My name is Prince Roger,” said the young man, bowing elegantly. “I assure you, I mean you no harm.”

“Why have you come here? How did you find me?”

The Prince explained briefly the events of the previous day and how he simply had to meet the woman who sang so beautifully. He asked Rapunzel how she came to be locked up in this tower, but when he described her captor as a terrible, evil witch, he was surprised when Rapunzel seemed offended.

“Don’t talk about my mother that way!”

“Your…your mother?” said the Prince, incredulously. So, Rapunzel told Roger the whole story. How the only family she ever knew was the Witch, and how in her attempts to take care of her, the old hag had locked her away from the world.

“I know she loves me,” said Rapunzel. “But I wish to see the world with my own eyes.”

“Let me help you,” said Prince Roger. “Let me take you away from all this. I can show you the world.”

“That would be wonderful,” said Rapunzel. “But there are a few problems.”

“Like what?”

“First of all, I barely know you! You cannot expect me to run off with some stranger.”

“A prince?”

“Still!”

“You are right. I will return tomorrow at this same time. And every day until you love me as much as I feel I love you.” With that he bowed again and descended Rapnuzel’s hair.

And, for the next month, every single day at the exact same time, the Prince returned to Rapunzel’s side. They talked on every subject, they played simple games, they fell deeper and deeper in love. Until at last the day came when Rapunzel lowered her eyes and said to her Prince:

“I love you. And I wish for you to take me away from this place.”

“I will. Tomorrow, when I come to see you, I will bring with me a rope ladder. I will climb your hair and we will tie it to the window. Then we will climb down together and take you far away from this terrible tower.” With a kiss, Prince Roger was gone, elated by his newfound love.

The next day, at the usual time, the Witch returned to the tower and called out:

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair

That I may climb the golden stair!

Rapunzel did as she was asked. Moments later, the Witch was in the tower, teaching Rapunzel to play the lute, for some reason. She was having a hard time paying attention, because, sure enough, her mind kept floating back to the handsome prince and his promise of freedom. But, glad though she was to be running away with him, she felt terrible betraying her mother after all these years. She knew she couldn’t just leave without talking to her.

“Mother,” said Rapunzel when she had summoned up all her courage. “You love me, don’t you?”

“My child, of course I love you.”

“Then why do you keep me locked up in this tower?”

“Rapunzel, my precious, it is precisely because I love you that I keep you in this tower. Have you any idea what the outside world is like? There are dangerous, treacherous things out there. Things that a child like yourself must be protected from.”

“I do not feel like a child anymore. I wish to see the world.”

“You may see what you want through your window. You may see the cruelty of men, the savagery of nature, the unfairness of life.”

“Yes, but I want to see them for myself. I want to see the good and the bad of life. I want my own experiences. I want freedom.”

“Enough!” yelled the Witch. “You are mine! I will do with you as I wish. And I do not wish for you to see the world.”

“That is not for you to decide. I have made that decision for myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have had another visitor. A prince. He loves me, Mother. And I him. This evening he will come for me and set me free. Then I will never see you again as long as I live!”

“This is how you repay me? I have cared for you as my own all your life, and you dare speak to me in this way? I will teach you a lesson you will never forget!” And with that, the Witch took out a large, sharp knife and cut all of Rapunzel’s hair off. Then, using her magic, she took Rapunzel away from the tower and dragged her to a tiny cottage far, far from anywhere and locked her inside. Here Rapunzel wept, knowing that she might never see her beloved Prince again.

Meanwhile, the Prince was on his way back to the tower with the ladder he had promised to bring. Count Basie was along, too because, in those days, when a couple was eloping, the groom chose his best friend to help them make their getaway. He always chose his best, most reliable friend and this led to our modern tradition of having a “best man” at a wedding.

No, really. Look it up.

When he got to the tower, he stood at the base and sang out:

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair

That I may climb the golden stair!

In a moment, the long hair was lowered and the Prince climbed up. But when he got inside he saw not Rapunzel, but the Witch! She had taken all the hair that she had cut off and tied it to the bedpost to fool the Prince. Then, with a wave of her magic staff, the Witch pushed the Prince out of the window where he fell on some thorny bushes, piercing his eyes and blinding him.

Count Basie took his friend back to the palace where the king’s physicians were unable to do a thing to help him. He would be blind for life. When the doctors had left, Prince Roger called his friend close to him.

“Basie, you are more than just a servant, more than a companion. You are my brother. And I need your help now more than ever.”

“Yes, your high—Yes, Roger?”

“Find her.”

“What?”

“Find her. The witch has hidden her from me, but you must find her.”

“How do you know she did not simply destroy your beloved when she found out about you?”

“Because she loves Rapunzel. She could no more hurt her than I could. You must help me find her again.”

The Count could not refuse and acting on Prince Roger’s orders, he assembled all the king’s guards, all the best hunters and warriors, and anybody else who answered his classified ad. “Somewhere in the wide world,” he said to the assembled throng, “there is a beautiful young girl of about eighteen. Her hair is the color of the first rays of dawn. Her voice is the voice of the angels. Her name is ‘Rapunzel.’ And, provided we can track her down, she will be our prince’s bride.”

The search was on. Good men and true formed search parties that covered the countryside like a vast shadow. And, to their credit they found quite a lot. They found a funny little man who claimed to be able to spin straw into gold, a house made out of gingerbread and candy, a frog who swore blind that he used to be a prince, several talking animals, a very small girl whose best friend was a bird, and a bear of very little brain who…no, sorry, that’s another book.

The point is, they found no sign of Rapunzel. Until one fateful day many, many months later, when Count Basie, almost despairing of ever finishing his mission, tripped over something in the underbrush. At first he thought it was a vine, but it was too stringy and thing and…and…blonde!

It was hair! He followed it like a set of footprints and it led him to a small clearing with an even smaller cottage right in the center. A stream running next to the cottage seemed to stop at the end of the clearing, which was enough to convince Count Basie that it was magic. That’s why they hadn’t been able to find her before now. The witch created this magic glade so that it could not be found. But Rapunzel’s hair must’ve outgrown the spell, for it led the Count right to her door.

To knock on her door, explain the situation and help her up on his horse was, with Basie, the work of a moment…the next part, however, took much longer, when they realied her hair was waaay too long for a horseback ride through the woods and they gave her an impromptu haircut with the Count’s sword. Once that was sorted, they raced back to the palace as fast as they could and Rapunzel was let in to see the prince.

“Rapunzel?” he said. “Is that you?”

“Oh, my beloved!” cried Rapunzel upon seeing his sightless eyes. “What has that horrible witch done to you?”

“It’s all right, Rapunzel. I don’t need my eyes to know how beautiful you are, or to hear your heavenly voice…or to love you.”

This was too much for Rapunzel and she wept. The Prince held her in his arms and dried her tears with his hand. At that moment, his eyes began to itch and he rubbed them with the same hand. And the minute her tears touched his eyes, his sight was restored!

Rapunzel and the prince were married the very next day, and (except for the days when Rapunzel couldn’t do a thing with her hair) they lived very happily ever after.

THE END

If You Liked My Story, You Might Enjoy:

• “Faerie Tale Theatre” (TV) Series host Shelley Duvall is Rapunzel and Jeff Bridges is her prince.
• Tangled (2010) Go see it during your Thanksgiving break. Mandy Moore is the girl in the tower with magic hair and Zachary Levi (TV’s “Chuck”) is the dashing thief who becomes her unlikely hero.

Next week: A Thanksgiving Special

Sleeping Beauty

Also known as “The Sleeping Beauty in the Woods,” this is another classic story that has been forever immortalized by Walt Disney. Prior to Disney’s immortalization, however, it was immortalized as a ballet by Tchaikowsky. It was this ballet and not the original story that Walt and his team used to bring the story to the screen. George Bruns even adapted the familiar themes of Tchaikowsky’s score as the songs used in the movie.

This story is one of the best examples on record in favor of censoring classing fairy tales. The eraliest known version of the story, which was popular in 1636, is one of the most grizzly and horrific fables ever told. The prince stumbles upon Sleeping Beauty but, rather than just kiss her, he rapes her unconscious body then goes back to his wife. Sleeping Beauty awakens (somehow) and bears the twins the prince left her with. The prince’s wife (somehow) gets wind of these kids and has them killed and made into supper for her husband (even though the cook lets the kids go, the prince is still made to believe that he is eating his own children).

(Incidentally, the book Extraordinary Origins of Everyday Things by Charles Panati was a great help in researching these historic facts about the stories on this blog so if you’re interested in learning more about the history of fairy tales, nursery rhymes, zippers, Pepsi, Uncle Sam and the practice of hanging  a horseshoe over your door for good luck, seek out this tome.)

The version of the story that appears here is the same basic plot as Tchaikowsky and Disney used, with one or two touches of my own, usually employed when I couldn’t remember the story very well. To which I’m sure my reader(s) will say “But, Templeton, my boy, why didn’t you simply reread the story if you couldn’t remember it?” And my answer to that is, “Yes, that would’ve been a good idea.”

…anyhoo, here’s the story:

O

nce upon a time there was a great kingdom, the Kingdom of Borealis, which bordered the Fairying Forest. The Forest was the home of the Fairies, who lived together in harmony, in a society not too dissimilar from our own. There were houses and schools and families just like in our world. And, as in all societies, there was government. In this case, a council of Seven Wise Fairies. The Red Fairy, the Gold Fairy, the Blue Fairy, the Silver Fairy, the White Fairy, the Green Fairy and the Black Fairy. Each possessed a different type of power and together they kept peace and prosperity in the forest.

Now, some years prior to the events of this story, a decision was reached regarding the human population of Borealis. It was decided that since we humans have no magic, it was the responsibility of the Forest Fairies to watch over them. A vote was called for and the motion to make Borealis an official Protectorate of the Fairy Government passed six votes to one.

And so, for many centuries, both kingdoms got along very well and lived in peace and harmony. The King and Queen of Borealis always valued the Fairies’ counsel above all others. So, when the Queen gave birth to her first child, it was only natural that the Council of Fairies be invited to the Christening.

Unfortunately, there was a problem. As a matter of tradition, Fairy guests always ate from gold plates. But one of the gold plates had been damaged some years ago. There were now no longer enough for all seven Fairies. This didn’t bother the King and Queen, because it gave them an excuse to not invite one of the Fairies who no one really liked anyway.

This proved to be a terrible mistake.

On the day of the christening, the child was introduced to the world and given the name of “Aurora,” which means “the dawn.” On this day, she was also betrothed. That is, promised to be married to Prince Philip from a nearby kingdom. Philip, being five years Aurora’s senior, had little interest in her, but did as his father told him.

The party was a terrific success. When the six fairies arrived they each took turns bestowing a gift on the newborn child. Beauty…grace…song…purity of heart…intelligence…and the Blue Fairy was just about to give her gift when a thunderclap was heard. A wind that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere roared through the chamber, blowing out every candle. Billowing black smoke appeared as if from nowhere and when it cleared, there stood the Black Fairy…mad as a whole forest full of hornets’ nests.

“Well!” she said, her voice as cold as ice. “I see we are all having a wonderful time tonight. The food smells delicious. And everyone is so nicely dressed. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was some sort of party. But, look! Here are the King and Queen! That means it could not be a party. For, you see, any party that the King and Queen would attend would surely be a state function…and in that case…I would’ve been invited!!”

“Please, your grace,” began the King, “let me explain. We wanted to invite you, of course we did. But we only had enough gold plates for six. And since you have declined each and every invitation we have extended, we assumed…”

“Silence!” bellowed the Black Fairy. And as she did, a terrible tempest wind blew. “I care little for your puny excuses. And it is not important that I would have declined anyway. You insulted me and for that you must pay!”

“Your grace,” said the Blue Fairy, taking control. “Please be reasonable. The King and Queen meant you no offense. And I am certain that any request you might make of them will happily be granted to make up for this unfortunate incident.”

“Unfortunate incident? Sister Fairy, do I not sit on the same council as yourself? Have I not the same powers as you and our five colleagues? Then why am I so easily cast aside? Why am I so expendable?”

“No one is saying that you are expendable.” Though practically everyone in the room was thinking it.

“Enough! The time for talking is done. I will take my leave of this place and never return.” This made everyone very happy, until the Black Fairy added, “But first…I have something to give the baby!”

Instinctively, the Queen lunged for her child, but it did no good. The Black Fairy waved her arms and spoke a prophecy. “Princess Aurora,” she declared, “will indeed grow up with the gifts that have, this day, been bestowed upon her. And up until her eighteenth birthday, she will be very happy. But before sunset on that day, she will prick her finger on a needle and die!” With these ominous words, the Black Fairy disappeared, cackling as she did so.

The Queen was struck with despair. She held her baby closer to herself as though her love could save her from this fate…and perhaps it could, because just then the Blue Fairy said, “If you please, Your Majesty, I believe I can help.”

“You can? Can you lift this terrible curse?”

“No, I cannot. The Black Fairy’s Dark Magic is too strong. But I can save Aurora’s life.” She took the baby from her mother’s arms and held the tiny princess tenderly. “Little One,” said the Blue Fairy, “on your eighteenth birthday, you will prick your finger on a needle. But it will not be fatal. It will simply put you into a deep, dreamless sleep. During this time you will not age, nor wither, nor die. You will simply wait for Love’s First Kiss. For when your true love’s lips touch yours for the first time, the spell will be broken, you will awaken, and all will be happy forever after.”

The words of the Blue Fairy were of great comfort to the King and Queen. Nonetheless, they decided that it was better not to take chances. A proclamation was made banning the use of all needles or needle-like implements. All the sewing needles, knitting needles, spinning wheels and other tools were taken into the center of the town and burned in a bonfire. But the King and Queen felt that this was not enough. As they were struggling to think of a solution, the Blue Fairy appeared to them with an idea.

That was the last night that Aurora would spend at the castle for many years. Under cover of darkness, the Blue Fairy stole away with the baby in tow. She would care for the child in the Fairying Forest for eighteen years, until it was safe to bring her back to her family. It was a great risk she was taking, as it was forbidden for humans to live in the Forest. They could visit from time to time, and the hunting was well known as the best in the country, but as soon as night fell, all humans had to leave.

But, the Blue Fairy had no choice.

And so it was that, for the next eighteen years, the Blue Fairy raised the child secretly in the Forest. She called the young princess by the name “Rosebud,” just in case the Black Fairy was still trying to find her. For if the evil Fairy found that the Blue Fairy was caring for a human child, princess or no, her rage would be uncontrollable. You see, the Black Fairy had been the only council member who had been opposed to the idea of granting the humans the protection of magic. She felt their lack of magic made them weak, inferior, and therefore undeserving of such protection.

But for eighteen happy years, no one saw or heard from the Black Fairy. Peace reigned throughout the land. Sad though they were to say goodbye, the King and Queen were comforted to know that their daughter was safe and in good hands. And all parties eagerly awaited the girl’s eighteenth birthday, the day when she would return to the castle, reclaim her birthright and live out the rest of her life in happiness and prosperity.

As for Prince Philip, he was fully aware that as soon as the exiled princess was of age, he would have to marry her. But he simply tried to ignore the fact. The way you block out something you are anticipating and dreading, like chores or visiting your unmarried aunt. Not that Prince Philip dreaded the idea of marriage…well, actually, yes, he did. Philip enjoyed his life. Living by his own rules and doing as he pleased. Hunting in the nearby forests, riding through the kingdom, helping his subjects. He knew that a marriage, however nice the girl might be, would throw a monkey wrench into his lifestyle and he did not want it…especially since monkey wrenches hadn’t been invented yet.

Unfortunately, he could ignore his fate no longer. For finally the day came when the princess was to return, and soon he would marry. And not just marry, but marry someone he had met only once, when she was only a few days old, whom he had not seen since. Whom no one had seen since! His father tried to reassure him that this union would be the best thing for both kingdoms. He also reminded his young son that five fairies had bestowed various gifts upon the baby so that she would be a pleasant companion.

“I do not doubt it, father,” bemoaned the Prince. “But I do not like the idea of marrying someone I don’t know against my will. Can’t you understand that?”

“Frankly…no.”

Prince Philip had no choice. That morning he woke, dressed and got in a carriage. He rode to the Kingdom of Borealis with a heavy heart. The King and Queen greeted him, but evaded the question when he asked where his fiancée was. They had managed to keep the curse a secret for some time, and they felt it best not to burden the young prince with the informatio now. For his part, Prince Philip assumed it was a tradition, not seeing the bride before the wedding. He was shown to his quarters and told that he would be married at sundown. This gave him the rest of the day to himself…and he noticed a lush, green forest near the castle when he rode into town…

An hour later, when the steward came to ask if he wanted anything, he found only a note on the pillow which said, “Gone Huntin’.”

The Fairying Forest was a beautiful place. Imagine everything nice about nature rolled together and sprinkled with magic fairy dust. The trees seemed to dance in the wind. The dewdrops sparkled like diamonds. The beams of light which shone through the high branches were as deep and radiant as moonlight.

These were the observations made by Prince Philip as he surveyed the territory. He knew at once that he would do well here. And sure enough he hadn’t been in the forest more than twenty minutes before he saw a beautiful deer. She was standing by a pond, having a drink. Philip ducked down behind a shrubbery and pulled an arrow from his quiver. The deer had no idea he was there. He lay the arrow carefully in the bow…he pulled the string taut…and then…

“NO!”

The Prince jerked and his arrow flew into the forest, narrowly missing a sleepy owl. The deer heard the noise and ran into the trees. Philip was furious. “Now look what you’ve done!” he said as he turned to face whoever had shouted.

Actually all he got out was “Now look wh—” before he saw who had shouted. The most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Dressed like a peasant in a long skirt and laced bodice. A sweeping, curvy figure and a simply enchanting face. Long locks of golden-brown hair fell past her shoulders. Her lips were full and red. And her eyes…my goodness! Her eyes!

“How could you even think of shooting a poor defenseless deer?” she said. Somehow she was even beautiful when she was angry.

“I…I…” was all the Prince could say, he was so taken by her beauty.

“What if she had been a mother? What would you have done for her poor children?”

“I’m sorry,” Philip said at last. “I didn’t mean any harm. I’m a sportsman, you see.”

“A sportsman? Hunting is not a sport, you fool! It is a necessity. You hunt because you have no other means of food or you don’t do it at all. What’s sporting about shooting an animal for fun?”

“It takes skill, patience and strength to be a good hunter. That’s what I call a sport.” The girl simply turned and walked away but Philip caught up with her. “Wait, wait,” he said. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. My name is Philip. What’s yours?”

“Rosebud,” said Rosebud, noticing for the first time what lovely, dark eyes Philip had. “And maybe I was a little harsh. You aren’t from around here, are you?”

“Why no. I’m in town for…for a wedding.” He neglected to mention whose wedding.

“That’s nice…are you hungry? I live not far from here.”

Rosebud led Philip to the cottage the Blue Fairy had made for her. They had lunch together and talked of this and that. And as they talked and learned more about each other, both Rosebud and Philip were falling more and more deeply for each other. It was nearly sundown before Philip finally left, and it was not his decision to do so. The Blue Fairy arrived and chased him away…with a carving knife.

“What are you thinking?” she yelled at Rosebud. “Letting a man in here? Didn’t I tell you how dangerous that was?”

“I like him,” said Rosebud. “He’s very kind and handsome and—”

“I don’t care! I told you no strangers. That is final. Besides, it doesn’t matter if you like him. You are promised to another.”

“What?”

“Rosebud…I have been keeping this from you for too long. Sit down.” Rosebud sat and the Blue Fairy told her all about her past. How she was born a princess and how the Black Fairy had cursed her on the day of her Christening. How the Blue Fairy had gone to such lengths to protect her. How she had cared for her these last eighteen years and how today, on her birthday, she was to return to the castle and marry the Prince.

Rosebud…excuse me, Aurora, was devastated. As you would probably be too, if you were suddenly asked to change your entire life in a matter of hours, especially on your birthday. She didn’t want to marry some stranger. She didn’t want to live with a King and Queen she didn’t know. She liked her cottage, she didn’t want to leave the Forest. So she did what, again, you would probably do in her shoes:

She ran.

She ran deep into the Fairying Forest. The Blue Fairy tried to catch her, but Aurora was too fast. She ran, her streaming tears blinding her, until she could run no more. Then she simply collapsed to the ground and began to sob. There she stayed for several minutes until she heard an odd voice saying, “Are you all right, child?”

Aurora looked up and saw a withered old crone. An old woman with a wrinkled face and a long Black robe.

“No,” said Aurora. “I’m not all right. Everything I am is a lie. I’m being forced to marry against my will. I—”

“There, there, child,” said the Old Crone. “I will protect you. Come into my house and I will fix you a nice warm pot of tea.” Aurora let the Old Crone lead her into the house. It was a very small hovel. Just a bed, a table, a chair, a small stove and…in the far corner, something Aurora had never seen before.

“What is that?” she asked.

“Just Granny’s old spinning wheel. Have you never seen one, dearie?” Aurora shook her head. “Well, let me show you how it works.” The Old Crone led Aurora to the spinning wheel and sat her down. “Now you just run the thread through here and wrap it around the spindle. Like this…now you try.”

Aurora didn’t know why, but she could not refuse. It was as if the Old Crone was hypnotizing her. She pumped with her foot and guided the thread with her hand, and as she reached up to touch the spindle…

“Ow!” she pricked her finger. She saw a few drops of blood fall. She began to feel sick, woozy. She stumbled back and the Old Crone made no effort to help her. Soon Aurora was unable to fight anymore and gave in to the blackness. She fell back onto the bed, fast asleep.

The Black Fairy threw off her disguise and laughed. Her plan had worked. She stalked out of the cottage, satisfied that she had won. Then she turned to the cottage and cast a magic spell. A thicket of briars sprang up around the cottage, thick and twisted and deadly.

“What have you done?” cried the Blue Fairy, who had finally caught up with Aurora.

“I have won,” said the Black Fairy. “Your Princess sleeps within this cottage and will never wake…unless of course her true love finds her and breaks through this thicket. But, wait. You sent her true love away less than an hour ago!”

“So, you have been spying on me.”

“Of course. It was the only way to ensure that my plan would work. And now, those arrogant humans will get just what they deserve.” The Black Fairy threw back her head and laughed. As she did so, she melted away into mist and vanished. The Blue Fairy was horrified. She had no idea what to do. The first thing she had to do, unfortunately, was to tell the King and Queen what had happened. But, she noticed, she had left her wand in Aurora’s cottage, so back she went…

And when she got there, she was surprised to discover the young man she had thrown out had returned.

“What are you doing back here?” cried the Blue Fairy.

“I’m sorry if my presence offends you, ma’am,” said Philip, politely. “But I cannot stay away. I know it sounds strange but…I love Rosebud. I will do anything to be with her.”

“Anything?”

“Yes, anything. Even betray my father.”

“What do you mean?”

“I am supposed to be at the palace right now, marrying the princess. But I won’t. I don’t love Princess Aurora. I love Rosebud, the girl I met in the forest today. And I’d rather live in this hovel with her for a hundred years that spend one moment in the palace with someone I don’t—”

“Wait…you are Prince Philip? Aurora’s betrothed?”

“I am. Or, rather, I was.”

The Blue Fairy could hardly contain her joy. Without another word, she led Philip deep into the forest to the Thicket of Briar.

“Why have you brought me here?” asked Philip.

“Because your true love is inside. You must rescue her.”

Philip needed no more convincing. He drew his broadsword and began hacking and chopping at the thicket. Slowly, gradually, he cut a path through to the door which, of course, had been locked. He broke it down and was inside. There he saw her.

“Rosebud!” he cried.

“No,” said the Blue Fairy. “Her name is Aurora. This is your true love and your betrothed! She will awake when you kiss her.”

And so, after taking a moment to absorb this new information and reflect on how life’s funny if you think about it, Philip stepped slowly toward Princess Aurora. He knelt beside her and looked at her sleeping form. So delicate. So beautiful. He held her limp, lifeless hand in his. Then he leaned in and placed upon her lips one perfect, gentle kiss. In an instant, Aurora blinked her eyes and awoke. She looked into the eyes of her beloved and smiled.

Then she pulled him close and gave him a real kiss!

And so, once again, we have a happy ending. Aurora married Philip (a little later than planned, but not bad) and they lived together for many years. The Blue Fairy was made head of the Fairy Ruling Council, who, using all their combined power, managed to strip the Black Fairy of hers and she was forced to wander the Forest for the rest of her life as one of the weak, inferior humans she despised.

And, except for Aurora always having a little trouble getting out of bed in the mornings, everything was truly happily ever after.

THE END

If You Liked My Story, You Might Enjoy:

• “Faerie Tale Theatre” (TV) Christopher Reeve is the Prince, Bernadette Peters is the Princess
• Sleeping Beauty (1959) Walt Disney’s lavishly produced, groundbreaking animated feature was the first to be made in Cinemascope and is widely considered one of the most visually stunning of all his films. Features the song “Once Upon a Dream”
• “The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show—Fractured Fairy Tales” The segment called “Sleeping Beautyland” depicted the prince as an entrepreneur who turns the snoozing princess into a theme park. The character was modeled to look like Walt Disney.

Next Week, for Halloween: “The Boy Who Left Home To Learn About The Shivers”