SUGARCANDY HOUSE: THE BELGIAN HANSEL AND GRETEL

 SUGARCANDY HOUSE,

or,

THE BELGIAN HANSEL AND GRETEL

Gleaned by Jean de Boschère

Jean and Jeannette were brother and sister. They lived near a big woodland, and every day they used to go to play there, fishing for sticklebacks in the streams, and making necklaces of red berries. One day they wandered farther from their home than usual, and all of a sudden they came to a brook crossed by a pretty red bridge. On the other side of the bridge, half hidden among the trees, they espied the roofs of a little pink cottage, which, when they came closer, they found to be built entirely of sugar-candy! Here was a delightful find for a little boy and girl who loved sweetstuff! They lost no time in breaking off pieces of the roof and popping them into their mouths.

Now in that candy house there lived an old werewolf whose name was Garou. He was paralysed in one leg, and could not run very fast, but in all other respects he was as fierce and[92] strong as he had been in his youth. When he heard Jean and Jeannette breaking off bits of his roof he growled out, “Who is touching my Sugar-Candy House?” Then he came limping out to see who it was, but by that time the children were safely hidden in the woods.

“Who dares to touch my Sugar-Candy House?” roared the wolf again.

Then Jean replied:

“It’s the wind so mild,It’s the wind so mild,That lovable child!”

This satisfied the old wolf, and back he went to his house, grumbling.

The next day Jean and Jeannette once again crossed over the little red bridge, and broke some more candy from the werewolf’s house. Out came Garou again, bristling all over.

“Who is touching my Sugar-Candy House?” he roared.

And Jean and Jeannette replied:

“It’s the wind so mild,It’s the wind so mild,That lovable child!”

“Very well,” said the werewolf, and he went back again, but this time there was a gleam of suspicion in his eye.

The next day was stormy, and hardly had Jean and Jeannette reached the Sugar-Candy House than the wolf came out, and surprised them in the very act of breaking a piece off his windowsill.

“Oho!” said he. “It was the wind so mild, was it? That lovable child, eh? Precious lovable children, I must say! Gr-r-r, I’ll eat them up!” And he sprang at Jean and Jeannette, who took to their heels and ran off as fast as their legs could carry them. Garou pursued them at a good speed in spite of his stiff paw, and although he never gained upon them, yet he kept them in sight, and refused[93] to give up the chase. The children looked back once or twice, and saw that the big bad wolf was still following them, but they were not very much afraid, because they were confident of their ability to outrun him.

[94]

All of a sudden they found their way barred by a wide river. There was no bridge or boat across it, and the water was very deep. What were they to do? Nearer and nearer came the wolf!

In the middle of the river some ducks were swimming, and Jan called out to them: “Little ducks! Little ducks! Carry us over the river on your backs, for if you do not the wolf will get us!”

So the ducks came swimming up, and Jean and Jeannette climbed each on to the back of one, and were carried safely over to the other bank.

Presently the wolf, in his turn, came to the river. He had seen how the children had managed to cross, and he roared out at the ducks in a terrible voice, “Come and carry me over, or I’ll eat you all up!”

“Very well,” answered the ducks, and they swam to the bank, and Garou balanced himself on four of them, one paw on the back of each. But they had no intention of carrying the wicked wolf to the other side, for they did not love him or any of his tribe, and, moreover, they objected to his impolite way of asking a favour. So, at a given signal from the leader, all the ducks dived in midstream, and left old Garou struggling in the water. Thrice he went down and three times he resurfaced, but the fourth time he sank never to rise any more.

That was the end of old Garou, and a good job, too, say I. I don’t know what became of his Sugar-Candy House, but I dare say, if you could find the wood, and the sun had not melted the candy, or the rain washed it away, you might break a bit of it off for yourselves.

EL CUENTO DE LA LIBÉLULA

 EL CUENTO DE LA LIBÉLULA

En el fondo de un viejo estanque vivía un grupo de larvas que no comprendían por qué cuando alguna de ellas ascendía por los largos tallos de lirio hasta la superficie del agua, nunca más volvía a descender donde ellas estaban.

Se prometieron una a otra que la próxima de ellas que subiera hasta la superficie, volvería para decirles a las demás lo que le había ocurrido.

Poco después, una de dichas larvas sintió un deseo irresistible de ascender hasta la superficie.

Comenzó a caminar hacia arriba por uno de los finos tallos verticales y cuando finalmente estuvo fuera se puso a descansar sobre una hoja de lirio. Entonces experimentó una transformación magnifica que la convirtió en una hermosa libélula con unas alas bellísimas.

Trató de cumplir su promesa, pero fue en vano.

Volando de un extremo al otro de la charca podía ver a sus amigas sobre el fondo.

Entonces comprendió que incluso si ellas a su vez hubieran podido verla, nunca habrían reconocido en esta criatura radiante a una de sus compañeras.

El hecho de que después de esa transformación que llamamos muerte, no podamos ver a nuestros amigos o familiares, ni comunicarnos con ellos, no significa que hayan dejado de existir …

No están aquí, se fueron a otro lugar para cuidarnos desde allí con una vista diferente.

«La muerte no es más que un cambio de misión.»

Un amor imposible

 "Cuenta la leyenda que, en tiempos lejanos, cuando el sol era de cera y la luna, de cristal dos jóvenes enamorados habitaban dos reinos enemistados generaciones atrás. Sus deshonestos padres no aprobaban que sus hijos se amasen. 

Habían compartido juegos de niños y, ahora que sus cuerpos florecían, habían quedado relegados en sus castillos bajo llave sin poder verse. Tan solo una bella gata blanca como la nieve usurpaba los dos reinos burlando la vigilancia. 

Cierto día, la dulce Carina, tuvo una idea: escribió sobre el lomo de la gata blanca un mensaje de amor para el joven Amadeus; quien respondió rápidamente trazando con bella caligrafía sobre la misma gata, otro mensaje. Poco a poco acumuló tantas líneas de tinta en su cuerpo que se convirtió en una imponente gata negra cargada de mensajes de amor y de paz. 

El día que su vientre se hinchó sin remedio, dio a luz a seis preciosos gatitos negros como la noche. Seis cachorros fruto del amor, de la paz y del valor. 

Desafortunadamente, alguien se encargó de que esta historia no saliese a la luz y, como consecuencia, hoy los gatos negros no gozan de la fama que les merece. El ser humano se encarga en ocasiones de embrutecer los más tiernos recuerdos de la naturaleza. Pero debes saber que todo gato negro lleva inscrita en su piel una antigua leyenda cargada de tinta y de esperanza. Mensajeros de lo imposible."

SOPHIA AND THE CHALICE

 This fragment is from the Portuguese fairytale The Three Little Blue Stones (As tres pedrinhas azuis) as told in Parcast Tales. It's a slandered wife tale, taking place in the husband Prince Miguel's castle in his village kingdom. Again, the wife Elena is drugged so the evil in-laws can do their dastardly deeds to her (slit her newborn triplets' throats and make her look like the culprit) while she is unconscious; and I loved how it described the drugging from her POV.

The key character here is Princess Sophia, the sister-in-law. She is described upon being introduced in the story as "a young woman, skinny as a twig." My mental image of hers is a bit like an evil medieval or renaissance Yuzuriha Nekoi... Anyway, we cut straight to her making her move!

...as Princess Sophia arrived with a chalice of wine. She presented it to Elena.

"Drink this; it will make the birth go easier."

Elena gulped it down. It tasted sour on her lips. The pain faded away from her body; but... so did everything else. Elena's eyes rolled to the back of her head; her mind felt fuzzy. Then, everything went black.

Coming up; Elena awakens to a bloody horror.

Elena drifted back into consciousness. Her head pounded as she tried to piece together her final memories; ..., Sophia and the chalice, ... Her throat was impossibly dry! With a raspy voice, she called out: ...

Needless to say justice is served like in the end of every fairytale. Prince Miguel says in the Parcast adaptation:

"Find my ... sister. They're the true murderers. Lock them in a tower; I can't kill them myself!"

POST SCRIPTUM.

Having just read the original tale As tres pedrinhas azuis I found out that both the drugging and the sister-in-law character are absent in it. This change makes the Parcast adaptation more interesting than the source material, knowing me and my tastes...

ADVIENTO - LÁGRIMAS DE HADA

LÁGRIMAS DE HADA

Una mañana de primavera el hada Rihana caminaba por el bosque para celebrar con sus amigas el día de las hadas.

Un grupo de mariposas que recogían el néctar de las flores para elaborar la dulce bebida de la fiesta exclamaron:

_ ¡Rihana date prisa que llegas tarde!

El hada levantó la mano derecha en señal de saludo y luego comenzó a correr porque no podía volar.

Animada llegó al lugar de la fiesta y sonrió cuando vio a los duendes y a los gnomos tocando los tambores. También estaban las hadas de los bosques tomadas de las manos formando un círculo mágico.

Suenan las gaitas, las hadas comienzan a danzar y las mariposas ofrecen la dulce bebida con un fantástico revoloteo. Las hadas circulan libremente, brindan y celebran la gran amistad que las une.

Algunas hadas lloran de felicidad. Sus lágrimas de alegría se convierten en diminutas piedras de cristal y con ellas hacen collares que les recordarán el momento tan feliz que han vivido.

Sin embargo, aquéllas se fijaron que el hada Rihana lloraba de dolor y frustración. Al ver que sus lágrimas no se convertían en piedras de cristal el hada Rocío se acercó a preguntar:

_ ¿No entiendo qué expresan tus lágrimas?

El hada Rihana la miró por unos segundos y sin decir una palabra se sentó sobre los pétalos de las rosas que adornaban el suelo y continuó llorando con la cabeza agachada.

Frente a esta situación se hizo un silencio total… y el hada del bosque tomó la palabra para declarar:

_ Entiendo que todas estén sorprendidas porque es la primera vez que vemos un llanto de dolor y frustración.

_ ¡Creo que ese llanto no es bueno!_ pronunció el hada Rocío.

_ Llorar de felicidad es saludable;  y llorar de dolor y frustración también lo es_ explicó el hada del bosque

_ ¿Por qué?_ preguntaron las demás hadas asombradas.

_ Llorar de dolor y frustración te ayuda a sacar las emociones negativas que hay en tu interior_ reveló el hada del bosque

.

Al escuchar esta explicación las hadas se acercaron amablemente al hada Rihana y ésta le contó que tenía una herida en un ala que le impedía volar. Por lo que todas las hadas empezaron a buscar una solución.

Fue entonces cuando una mariposa se acercó ofreciendo un cofre con polvos mágicos de alas de mariposas y se lo aplicaron a sus maltrechas alas.

Al instante, el hada Rihana comenzó a curvar sus alas al compás del viento diciendo:

_ ¡Muchas gracias amigas, estoy curada!

Las hadas se sintieron tan felices que también curvaron sus alas y subidas sobre los pétalos de las rosas danzaron al ritmo del sonido de las gaitas.

Autora: María Abreu

TSQ-IV: BRIAN ALDERSON TRANSLATION

THE SNOW QUEEN

AN ADVENTURE IN SEVEN STORIES

FOURTH STORY

WHICH TELLS OF A PRINCE AND A PRINCESS

 

"Careful, careful!" said ... "I think it might be ..., but he's forsaken ... now for a princess!"
"Is he living with a princess?" asked ....
"Yes -- hark!", said ... "but I get so hoarse talking ...  language. I could tell ... so much better in Cro-atian!"
... 
"Never mind! I'll tell ... as good as I can, but it'll sound a bit of a mess." And he told ... what he knew -- which should have sounded like this:

"In the kingdom where we are now there lives a princess who is so amazingly clever that she has read all the newspapers in the world -- and, being so clever, she's forgotten them again. Just lately she was sitting on her throne (and that's not all that it's cracked up to be) when she started singing a song that went like this: 'Why oh why shouldn't I be a bride!' 'Well -- there's something in that,' she said, and so she decided that she would be a bride, but she'd only have a husband who knew how to answer when you talked to him -- not one who just stood there looking handsome, because that gets very boring. So she drummed up all her ladies-in-waiting, and when they heard what she had in mind they were delighted. 'What a good idea,' they said, or, 'I was only thinking the same thing the other day.'
Every word I'm saying is true, you know, I've got a ... sweetheart, who's allowed to go wherever she likes in the palace, and she's told me everything!"
"Straight away the newspapers came out with hearts and with the princess's initials all round the edge of the pages. There you could read that any good-looking young man was free to come up to the palace to have a talk with the princess; and the one who talked back so that you could tell he was at home there, and talking at his very best, he was the one the princess would have for a husband! Oh yes, believe me, it's as true as I'm sitting here -- people came streaming up, shoving and pushing and running about, but nobody had any luck on either the first day or the second. They could all talk splendidly when they were outside in the yard, but once they got inside the palace gates and saw the sentries in their silver, and the lackeys on the stairs in their gold, and the big, glittering rooms, they were dumbfounded! And when they stood in front of the throne where the princess was sitting, they couldn't bring themselves to say anything except the last word that she had said, and she didn't need to hear that again. It was just as if the people in there had taken some snuff that had gone to their stomachs and they'd fallen into a doze until they came out on the yard again, and then they could jabber away right enough. There was a queue of people from the town gate to the palace; I was there myself and saw it all. They were hungry and they were thirsty, but they didn't get so much as a glass of lukewarm water from the palace. Some of the brightest ones had brought sandwiches with them, but they wouldn't share them with the chap next door because they thought, 'If he looks hungry then the princess certainly won't have him!'"
"When did he come? Was he there in the crowd?"
"Give us a chance! Give us a chance! We're getting to him now, because on the third day up to the palace comes a little fellow marching along quite happily without a horse and without a carriage. His eyes shone like..., he had beautiful long hair, but his clothes were in a terrible state!"
"He had a little knapsack on his back," ...
"That could be so. I didn't look too closely -- but this I got from my ... sweetheart, that when he came through the palace gates and saw the sentries in their silver and the lackeys in the stairs in their gold he wasn't the least bit upset, he nodded at them and said, 'It must be very boring standing on the stairs like that, I'd sooner go inside!' The rooms glittered with lights; ministers and privy councillors walked about in bare feet carrying golden bowls; anyone would have been overawed. His boots squeaked terribly loudly, but it didn't worry him in the least."
...
"Yes, they certainly squeaked, and he went cheerfully in to where the princess was sitting on a pearl as big as a spinning wheel, and all the ladies-in-waiting with their maids and their maids' maids, and all the courtiers with their footmen and their footmen's footmen, who all had a page apiece, stood ranged in order, and the nearer they were to the door the prouder they looked. The footman's footman's page-boy who always went about in slippers was hardly to be looked at, standing there so proud in the door!"
"That must have been awful! And did he get the princess?"
"He's said to have talked as well as I do when I speak Cro-atian -- or so my ... sweetheart says. He was gay and charming; he hadn't come there as a wooer, he'd just come to hear the princess's wise words -- and he thought those were fine, and she thought he was fine too!"
"Oh yes! That was ...,"said ... "... Oh, won't you take ... to the palace?"
"Well, that's easily said," said ..., "but how are we going to do it? I'll talk to my ... sweetheart, she should be able to tell us what to do, because I must tell ... this: ... wouldn't usually be allowed to come in!"
"Ooh, ...," said.... "When ... hears that ... then he'll come straight out and fetch ...!" 
"Wait for me by that stile," said ..., and he waggled his head and ... away.
It wasn't till late in the afternoon that ... came back again. "She tells me to give ... all her good wishes -- and here's a little piece of bread for ... that she took from the kitchen. They've got bread enough there, and ... It just won't be possible for ... to come into the palace with those ..., the sentries in their silver and the lackeys in their gold wouldn't stand for it, but ... -- ...'ll still get in. My sweetheart knows a little back staircase that goes up to the bedroom, and she knows where she can get the key."
So they went into the garden and along the great avenue where the leaves were falling, one after another, and, as the lights in the palace went out, one after another, ... brought ... to a side door which was open just a crack. 
... only wanted to see if ... was there. Surely, it must be him, his bright eyes and his long hair were so clear ...
Now they were on the stairs. A little lamp was burning on a cupboard and in the middle of the floor was ...,
"My fiancé has said a lot of nice things about ...," said .... "... 'life story,' as they call it, is very touching. Now ... take the lamp and I will lead the way. We are going straight there because we won't meet anyone."
"But someone's coming after us already!" said ..., as something rushed past ...; it was like shadows on the wall: horses with flying manes and slender legs -- huntsmen -- ladies and gentlemen on horseback.
"Those are only dreams," said .... "They come and take the gentry's thoughts out hunting -- and a good thing too! They can watch it much better in bed. But if ... come to honour and dignity I hope that ...'ll show me a grateful heart."  
Now they came into the first chamber which was hung with rose-red satin and had artificial flowers on the walls. Here the dreams were already rushing past them, but they went so quickly that ... couldn't get a sight of all the gentry. Each new room was more magnificent than the one before  -- it was enough to make you dizzy -- and then they got to the bed chamber. Here the ceiling was like a huge palm tree with leaves of glass, precious glass, and in the middle of the floor, hanging from a thick golden stalk, there were two beds which looked like lilies. One was white, and there lay the princess; the other was red, and there ... would have to search .... ... bent the red leaves out of the way and there -- saw the back of a brown neck -- oh, yes, that was ...! --  ... holding the lamp over him -- the dreams galloped back into the room again -- he woke up, turned his head, and -- no, it wasn't ....
It was only the prince's neck that was like ..., but he was certainly young and handsome. And then from the white-lily bed the princess looked up, blinking, and asked what was happening. 
"You poor little thing!" said the prince and the princess, and they praised the ... and told them that they weren't cross with them (but not to do such things too often). Meanwhile, they would have a reward.
"Would you like to go free," asked the princess, "or would you like to have an official appointment as Court ... with the right to everything that ...?"
And both the ... bowed and requested the official appointments, ...
Then the prince got out of his bed and let ... go to sleep in it ... and he couldn't do more than that, could he? ... and thought, "How kind everyone is -- men ...,"...
The next day they dressed ... from top to toe in silk and velvet. They invited ... to stay at the palace and join in the fun, but ... just begged for a little horse, a carriage, and a little pair of boots so that ... could drive out into the wide world again to find ....
So they gave ... both boots and a small muff. ... was beautifully dressed like this, and when ... was ready to leave, a new carriage of pure gold came round to the door, with the coats of arms of the prince and princess glittering on it like stars. The coachman, the footmen, and the outriders (for ... had outriders as well) sat there with gold crowns on their heads. The prince and the princess themselves helped ... into the carriage and wished ... good luck, and ... for the first three miles. The other ... stood in the gateway ... She didn't go with them because she had a headache from getting that official appointment and then eating too much. Inside, the carriage was lined with sugarcakes, and had fruit and gingerbread nuts on the seat.
"Goodbye! Goodbye!" shouted the prince and the princess, and .... That's how they went along for the first few miles, then ... said goodbye too, and that was the saddest parting of them all. He ... as long as he could see the carriage, which shone in the distance like the brightest sunshine.

FIFTH STORY 

WHICH TELLS OF A LITTLE ROBBER GIRL

They drove onwards through the dark forest, but the carriage shone out like a flame and it dazzled the robbers' eyes so that they couldn't stand it. "That's gold! That's gold!" they shouted, rushing out, seizing the horses, killing the postillions, the coachman, and all the servants ...

SEVENTH STORY

  ... WHAT HAPPENED AFTERWARDS

And ..., the forest bore green buds -- and out of it there came riding a splendid horse that ... knew (it had been harnessed to the gold carriage) ...

...

But ... asked after the prince and the princess.

"They've gone off to foreign parts," said the robber-girl.
"But what about the ...?" asked ....
"Oh, the ...'s dead," was the answer. "His ... sweetheart is now a widow and goes about with a bit of wool round her leg. She's dreadfully sorry for herself, but it's all pretence. ..." 

AFTERWORD BY THE TRANSLATOR

Many of Andersen's stories were published as eventyr, a word that has usually been translated as 'fairy tale' and has regularly led to them being anthologised as such, especially in compendia such as The Fairy Tales of Grimm and Andersen. For the most part though, they were nothing of the sort. Traditional tales have no author, and versions of them can be found higgledy-piggledy all over the place. In contrast, Andersen's tales were the invention of Andersen himself, set down in a way that reflected the manner of a speaking voice -- his voice. That was specific in a way that the language of traditional tales was not. However, in some cases, especially early on in their publication, Andersen did draw on a memory or even a knowledge of tales in the folk tradition, elements of which he incorporated in the story he was inventing.
In this revised version ..., the stories selected for the first edition of 1976 have been retained. However, by placing them in the chronological order of their original Danish publication we can show something of the growing originality of his writing. The following notes provide both the title and the date of their first Danish appearance and a note where a traditional source may play some part in the composition. Acknowledgement must be made to Elias Bredsdorff for identifying some of these sources in his biography of Andersen, published in 1975. In one instance only have we departed from the chronological ordering. The story of 'The Snow Queen' is deemed by both translator and publisher to be of such beauty and distinction that it has been placed at the end of the collection.

Brian Alderson
Richmond in the North Riding of Yorkshire
February 2013   

THE STORY OF THE TRANSLATOR

Brian Alderson

Many years ago, Brian Alderson got the sack from a job in the book trade. Recently married and with a small son yowling in his cradle, he seized the first job offer and went to work for a bookseller who specialised in children's books. It didn't seem a very big decision at the time, but it more or less determined the rest of his working life.
At root, he supposes, Brian found himself drawn to the way in which children's books offered their small customers such a feast of experiences, whether showing you what can be done with an apple pie or what might happen to you if you fell down a rabbit hole. There were riches here for everyone, opening a way to a lifetime of reading. So Brian left the bookshop and followed the example of the man who 'jumped on a horse and rode off in all directions.' He edited books; lectured on 'Children's Literature in both England and the United States; organised several national exhibitions on the subject; and worked as Children's Books Editor at The Times for over 30 years.
In all this though it was never far from his mind that storytellers represented the very source of a free and unhampered children's literature -- after all, were not Sheherazade and Mother Goose and Mother Bunch present when children's books were born? Brian took great pleasure in telling traditional tales to his own and to other children and, having a passable knowledge of German and Danish, he set about bringing the tales made famous by the Brothers Grimm and by Hans Christian Andersen into storyteller's English. As he says in his Afterword here, he owes it to those old folk, sat round their firesides, to do justice to their speaking voices. Whether he has done so or not, the readers or listeners must decide.

NOTES ON THE TEXT

The Tinderbox  Fyrtoiet (1835), owing elements (but not the dogs) to both Aladdin and the Grimms' The Blue Light. This translation first pubished in a new edition of Andrew Lang's Yellow Fairy Book (1980). Other translations here by Brian Alderson in either that book or the Pink Fairy Book (1982) are simply designed below as either 'Lang Yellow' or 'Lang Pink'
The Snow Queen: an adventure in seven stories  Sneedronningen; et Eventyr i syv Historier (1845). (Lang Pink)