FAIRYTALE COMMENTARY (NO MILK TODAY?)

The commentary here is from Australian illustrator Ursula Vernon, for a Romanian folktale recorded by Ion Creanga.

Milk on screen... not the same as liquor, but far more innocent / naive; thirsting for emotional nourishment, instead of for serious fun and/or masculinity.

Interestingly, the laced drink in this Sale of Bed tale is not some cup of liquor or tea, but rather milk, giving the scene an air of subverted innocence, to quench a thirst for emotional nourishment (on the handsome love interest's side)... and of sinister, devouring motherhood (on the sorcerous crone's side, like with so many other wicked witches, and the Snow Queen). 
Hello, insert A Clockwork Orange references here (are you sure the prince's real name in this version is not Alex?). Or to the Sisera story in Judges. Also, if milk makes one naturally sleepy, especially if the drinker is thirsty and burned out... why in R'hllor's name should you lace that glass of milk with a drug or some enchantment?! Isn't that gilding the f-ing lily?! 

Or could this glass of so-called "magic milk" be a metaphor for semen, and the fact that it was produced by the villainess (again, Yael and Sisera anyone?) serve to demonise female agency?

Anyway, on to the folktale and to Ursula's commentary...

This particular version is Romanian, and is pretty obviously a version of East of the Sun, West of the Moon, but with some peculiar twists along the way.

 The Story of the Pig (Povestea porcului)

In the end, after so much trouble and so much danger, they succeeded in arriving at the entrance to a cave. Here the princess mounted once more onto the lark’s wings which were now scarcely able to flutter, and he alighted into another world which was more beautiful than Paradise.

Here we are at the Monastery of Incense,” said the lark. “Prince Charming (Fat-Frumos), the handsome prince whom you have sought through so many difficulties, lives here. Is there not something familiar here?”

Then, although her eyes were dazzled by so much splendor, she looked more closely and at once recognized the wonderful bridge from the other world and the palace where she and Prince Charming had lived for such a short time, and her eyes filled with tears of joy.

“Wait a moment! Don’t be in such a hurry to rejoice, for you are still a stranger in these parts, and you are not yet out of danger,” said the lark.

He then showed her a well where she must go three days in succession; he told her who she would meet and what she should say; he advised her what to do in turn with the distaff, with the reeling machine, and the golden clucking-hen and chicks, given to her by the three weird sisters.

Then, saying good-bye to the princess entrusted to his care, he turned back suddenly, flying without stopping, afraid lest someone should break his other leg too.

They hate larks in Paradise. It’s kind of a problem. There are Lark Anti-Defamation Leagues and everything, but you get into the small towns, and…well.

And the unhappy princess watched him as he flew, her eyes full of tears. Then she went towards the well which he had pointed out.

And when she reached the well, she took out first of all the spindle from the place where she had carried it, and then sat down to rest.

Shortly afterward, a servant came to draw water, and seeing an unknown woman and the miraculous distaff, spinning golden thread by itself (thread which was thousands of times finer than the hair of your head), fled to her mistress to tell her the news.

The hair on my head is pretty fine. This kinda sucks in some regards, as it will frizz out given a single drop of moisture anywhere in the atmosphere. But regardless of this, even if I had hair like electrical wire, thousands of times finer is a LOT. This thread cannot possibly be visible to the naked eye. The servant is apparently coming to the well to draw water with an electron microscope in her back pocket.

The mistress of this servant was the wicked old witch who turned the devil’s hair gray,

Oh god, the phrases keep coming!

the housekeeper of Prince Charming’s palace, a marvelous sorceress, who could make water curdle, and knew all the mischief in the world. But there was only one thing the old hag didn’t know: man’s thoughts.

The Shadow’s got her totally beat there.

The wicked old witch, on hearing about this wonder, sent the servant at once to ask this strange woman to come to the palace. And when she arrived, the witch asked, “I have heard that you have a golden spindle which can spin alone. Would you sell it to me, woman, and how much do you want for it?”

“Will you allow me to spend one night in the room where Prince Charming sleeps?”

“Of course. Give me the distaff and stay here until the evening when the prince returns from the hunt.”

Doesn’t bat an eyelash. “Sure, I regularly sell tickets to watch the prince sleep. It’s a thing. We call it the Twilight Special.”

Then the princess gave up the spindle and remained. The hunchbacked, toothless old woman, knowing that the prince was accustomed to drink a cup of sweet milk every evening, now prepared one for him to make him sleep right through till the next morning. And as soon as he returned from the hunt and lay down on his bed, the old hag sent him the milk; and as soon as he had drunk it, he fell fast asleep, as if he were dead. Then the old woman called the unknown traveller into the room of the prince, as had been arranged, and left her there, whispering softly, “Sit here until the morning. I will come and fetch you then.”

The old woman whispered and went on tiptoe so that the prince should not hear, and she took good care that a faithful servant who accompanied him to the hunt every day and who was sleeping in the same room, should not hear either.

And as soon as the old woman had left the room, the unhappy princess knelt down by her husband’s bed and began to shed bitter tears saying, “Prince Charming! Prince Charming! Put your right arm round my waist so that the spell may be broken.”

Oddly this does not seem to be a euphemism.

And poor thing, she persevered like this until the morning, but in vain, for the prince seemed to have gone to the next world. At daybreak, the witch came along and sulkily told her to leave the courtyard and go away. The unfortunate princess came out without having succeeded in making her husband hear, and very unhappy, went once more to the well and this time took out her reeling machine. Again the servant came to fetch water and seeing this second wonderful object, rushed off to her mistress and said that the woman had now a golden reel, which could wind alone and which was even more wonderful than the distaff she had given her. Then the wicked old witch sent the servant to summon her and took possession of the reeling machine with the same craftiness, and the next morning took her out of the prince’s room and chased her out of the palace.

That night, however, the prince’s faithful servant sensed what was happening and taking pity on the poor stranger, set out to discover the old woman’s trick. And when the prince rose and was setting off to hunt, his faithful servant told him in detail what had happened in his room on the two previous nights. And the prince, on hearing this, gave a sudden start, as if the sky had fallen. Then he cast down his eyes and began to weep. And while tears were streaming from his eyes, at the well, his spell-bound and tormented wife now took out her golden hen and chicks — her last hope. And while she stood by the well, the servant came along once more to fetch water.

Magic distaff, meh. Magic reeling machine—I know this is about weaving, but I keep seeing a fishing rod—whatever. Lot of versions, it’s a set of three dresses.

But the golden hen and chicks? Now I’m intrigued.

And when she saw still another wonder, she didn’t even wait to draw water, but rushed to her mistress, saying, “Good gracious, mistress! Imagine what I have seen! That woman now has a golden hen with chicks also of gold — so beautiful they are that they could steal your eyesight.”

Do not look directly into the chickens. Use a smoked lens or make a pinhole chicken camera. Staring at the chickens can cause damage and irritation to the retina.

When the old woman heard that, she sent for her at once, saying to herself, “She won’t get what she’s looking for.”

And when the princess came in, the wicked old witch took possession of the golden hen and chicks by the same sly means.

But the prince, when he returned that evening from the hunt and when his milk was brought in, said to himself, “I won’t drink any more of this milk.”

So he threw it away and lay down, pretending to fall sound asleep.

When the old woman thought he was asleep, and was confident that he was now under the spell of the magic milk, she once more brought the princess into the room, just as she had done on the preceding nights; and leaving her there, she went off. The, the troubled girl, falling on her knees by her husband’s bedside, dissolved in a flood of tears, again saying these words, “Prince Charming! Prince Charming! Have pity on an innocent soul who has been tortured for four years with the most cruel suffering, and put you right arm round my waist so that the spell may break, for I cannot bear this any longer.”

I think it’s been at least six years, but hey, who’s keeping track?

And when she had finished speaking, Prince Charming stretched out his hand, as if in sleep, and when he touched her waist — bang! The belt burst open, and the spell was broken. Then the princess told her husband how much she had suffered since he had disappeared.

“…and the lark kept talking about ice dancing and there were these twenty-four headed otters and I’ve been sleeping on things that would make a board look comfortable and did I mention the otters had twenty-four freakin’ heads? Seriously, I’m not gonna get over that in a hurry. Also, you used to be a pig. I think I’m holding up very well, all things considered. By the way, I met a couple of saints. They say hi.”

Then Prince Charming rose, and, although it was the middle of the night, awoke the whole court and ordered the wicked old witch to be brought to him, together with all the treasures taken so slyly from the princess. Then he ordered a wild mare be brought to him and a sack of nuts.

…I cannot even begin to figure out where he is going with this.

And he ordered the wicked old witch and the sack of nuts to be tied to the mare’s tail and to set the mare galloping. And this was done. And when the mare began to gallop, each time a nut dropped from the bag, a little bit of the witch dropped too; and when the sack fell, the witch’s head dropped off.

This is the weirdest use of sympathetic magic I have ever heard of. Seriously, you already tied her to a mare’s tail, the nut thing may just be gilding the lily.

By her wicked tricks she had turned her master, Prince Charming, into the miserable, mangy little pig, so that later on she could make him marry her.

That is why Prince Charming punished her so severely. The faithful servant was handsomely rewarded with gifts by the prince and princess who keep him in their service as long as he lived.

And very soon a son was born to the prince and princess.

Now remember, good people, that Prince Charming had no wedding ceremony when he was married. But now he celebrated both a wedding and a christening, a thing which never happened before and which I’m sure will never happen again.

Oh honey. How long ago was this written? You’d be amazed what we get up to in the future.

And millions of people assembled for that large and sumptuous wedding reception, and the gaiety went on for three days and three nights, and unless it has ended, it must still be going on.

And with that, dear readers, I am going to bed. Perchance to dream of…err….hogs. (Oh, who are we kidding? It’s otter heads all the way down.)