Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta friedrich schiller. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta friedrich schiller. Mostrar todas las entradas

martes, 19 de mayo de 2026

LES CONTES DE NUTTHELO - MANDSDRAGT

Il la fait habiller en homme (perte d'identité de genre), ... DÉSHUMANISATION - Sandra: je dirais DÉFÉMINISATION

Elle souffre le martyre à chaque balade à cheval, ...

French Instagrammer and fairytale geek Nutthelo on the mandsdragt scene. She sees the prince's decision to put the Little Foundling in a suit as a way to make her lose her gender identity (she was far more feminine until then) and calls it dehumanisation. I would say it is rather defeminisation, loss of a feminine identity... Nuthelo agrees with Jacob Bøggild that the Prince is doing it to protect his own straight male sexuality from temptation...

 and I add that the character is a teen who is discovering her gender and sexuality. Maybe she is, like Brienne of Tarth and others, a cisgender teen tomboy? Both Brienne and the Little Foundling are in unrequited love with handsome young men (though the Prince loves the Convent Girl and Renly loves Loras, a boy). 

Also, even if the Victorian/Biedermeier era was far more patriarchal, the Little Foundling is, just like she explores her body and identity, exploring the land kingdom with all the freedom that her suit/mandsdragt allows her, through outdoor activities like horseback riding and mountaineering (even though those activities were masculine-coded back then). She is, like Queen Christina, Julie d'Aubigny, Eugénie Danglars... a New Woman before New Women existed, a Proto-New Woman.

But the Little Mermaid was an introverted girly-girl as a child, and the most spirited (dynamic, we world say tomboyish) back then, her spiritual predecessor, was one of her older siblings, the Third Sister (yaaaay! New Andersen character introduced!) who was the one who ventured deepest into the human realm until the Little Mermaid changed species, and also the first to come into contact with humans.

Illustrations by blog_mellow: in his version the Third Sister looks like Ariel, while the Little Mermaid/Foundling is platinum blonde. The setting is Biedermeier (as usual); when we reach the mandsdragt scene, I will analyse her outfit once more...



The Third Sister, as a teen, swam up a river that empties itself into the ocean (it was summer, she had to cool her face by plunging it time and again); she came across hilly riverbanks with palaces, manors, forests, and vineyards (I headcanon this as the Loire Valley because 1) the Loire empties itself into the Atlantic; 2) the summer there is burning hot; 3) the landscape is the same, Renaissance châteaux and manors, forest, and vineyards), on the top of the riverbank hills).


In a little creek, the Third Sister came across some human children splashing around, and she played with them (neither party was afraid, both of them were curious), until the bark of their pet puppy drove her away at breakneck speed, back into the ocean. That, and the fresh water didn't agree with her marine system.

Andersen says that the Third Sister never forgot about her adventures, especially about the human kids who could swim so well without having tails (and who were as little afraid of her as she was afraid of them). It was a loud noise that drove her away, something unheard of underwater. I headcanon the Third Sister as being the Little Mermaid's favourite sibling and the one she most admired, the one whose adventures she listened the most to, the one who inspired her to collect thingamabobs from shipwrecks and, years later, to explore both her identity and the land kingdom through horseback riding and mountaineering in a bespoke man's suit (ignoring that her one true love did so in order to defeminise her and protect himself from temptation)...

"No male shall ever put on female's clothing; neither shall ever a female put on male's clothing, for both of these are Abominations unto the LORD." Deuteronomy 22:5.

This taboo is still held today by many patriarchal, conservative religions, especially evangelical cults like Jehovah's Witnesses or Remnant Bride. In some of these cults, women are not allowed to wear trousers in Church; in others, they're not allowed to wear trousers AT ALL (but in none of those cults can women SPEAK during the service because Saint Paul said so: Corinthians 14:34)...

And gays, lesbians, queers... have it even WORSE than straight women. Remnant Bride even claims that ladies' jeans were invented by SATAN... One of their worst rants against gender deviance is this essay on HYENAS, foul-smelling scavengers yet matriarchal and pseudo-hermaphroditic, that dynamic women like Mary Wollstonecraft and Schiller's sans-culottes were always compared to...

The hyena essay (take this with a grain of salt - evangelical propaganda!):

https://www.remnantbride.com/hyena/spotted.htm

The Schiller fragment - Marianna Wertz translation:

Then wives into hyenas growing

Do make with horror jester’s art,

Still quiv’ring, panther’s teeth employing,

They rip apart the enemy’s heart.

Sir Terry Pratchett famously satirises at once war, the patriarchy, and homophobia in his most glorious Discworld novel, Monstrous Regiment, set in a Ruritanian land where nearly all the men have been either killed or imprisoned in a decades-long war, leading many brave women to join the army en travesti, even though they risk eternal damnation due to a sacred text full of arbitrary laws (including Deuteronomy 22:5, of course).

The premise of Monstrous Regiment reminds me of Chamsous-Sabah, ruling her land as a coloured child of eight or nine because she was the last one left standing, just because of her age and gender:

"All the men in my family have either been poisoned or killed in battle, either against enemies or against each other. It's sad, but existence has got to come to an end..."


martes, 7 de octubre de 2025

Things fall apart - Then wives into hyenas growing...

 (En la época del Romanticismo, la Revolución Francesa causó un trauma colectivo comparable al 11-S o a la pandemia del COVID. Las hienas son matriarcales, y las hembras de la especie tienen el clítoris tan grande que normalmente se confunde con un pene.)

Versión original (Schiller):

Freiheit und Gleichheit! hört man schallen; ...

Die Straßen füllen sich, die Hallen,

Und Würgerbanden ziehn umher.

Da werden Weiber zu Hyänen
und treiben mit Entsetzen Scherz;
Noch zuckend, mit des Panthers Zähnen,
zerreißen sie des Feindes Herz.

Nichts Heiliges ist mehr, es lösen

sich alle Bande frommer Scheu;
Der Gute räumt den Platz dem Bösen,
und alle Laster walten frei.

Weh denen, die dem Ewigblinden
Des Lichtes Himmelsfackel leihn!

380

Sie strahlt ihm nicht, sie kann nur zünden

Traducción literal de Sandra Dermark:

¡Libertad! ¡Igualdad! (pero no Fraternidad),

se oye gritar,

las calles se llenan, y los lugares públicos,

y bandas de estranguladores campean por doquier.

Entonces las féminas se convierten en hienas,

y hacen diversión del horror,

y, aún palpitante, con colmillos de pantera,

le arrancan al enemigo el corazón del pecho.

Nada es sagrado más, se disuelven

todos los lazos de las buenas intenciones.

El bien le cede su lugar al mal,

y todos los vicios andan sueltos.

¡Ay de quien a los eternamente ciegos

les presta la tea celestial de las Luces!

No les puede iluminar, sólo prender fuego.

Versión española (Katharina Busemann, Daniela Lippert y Maria Elena Pàmies i Arribas):

¡Libertad! ¡Igualdad! se oye resonar,

las calles se llenan, y los edificios públicos,

rondan sin rumbo bandas de asesinos,

Y las mujeres se convierten en hienas

y se divierten con el horror,

y desgarran con dientes de pantera,

aún palpitante, el corazón del enemigo.

Ya no hay nada sagrado, se rompen

todos los lazos impuestos por el temor reverencial,

el bueno cede su sitio al malvado,

y todos los vicios imperan a sus anchas.

Ay de aquellos que presten al irremediablemente ciego

la antorcha celestial de la luz!

Porque ella no le va a iluminar, sólo podrá prender fuego...

Version française (Émile Deschamps):

Un cri de toutes parts s’élève : Égalité !
Liberté !… chacun s’arme ou fuit épouvanté.

les femmes
avec les dents du tigre insultent, sans pitié,
le cœur de l’ennemi déjà mort à moitié,
Et du rire d’un monstre avec l’horreur se jouent.
de l’austère pudeur les liens se dénouent ...

Oh ! ne prodiguons point, par un jeu criminel,
Les célestes clartés à l’Aveugle Éternel ;

Leur flambeau l’aide au mal, et d’une main hardie
Au lieu de la lumière, il répand l’incendie !

English version (Marianna Wertz):

Liberty, Equality! Men hear sounding ...

The streets and halls are all abounding,
And roving, draw the murd’ring swarms;
Then wives into hyenas growing
Do make with horror jester’s art,

Still quiv’ring, panther’s teeth employing,
They rip apart the enemy’s heart.
Naught holy is there more, and cleaving
Are bonds of pious modesty,
The good its place to bad is leaving,
And all the vices govern free.

Woe’s them, who heaven’s torch of lighting
Unto the ever-blind do lend!
It lights them not, ’tis but igniting

THE SECOND COMING, YEATS (Compare!)

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere   

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst   

Are full of passionate intensity.

Traducción (literal), Sandra Dermark

Todo se desmorona, el centro no puede aguantar,

la anarquía pura se desata sobre el mundo,

la marea sangrienta se desata, y, por doquier,

la ceremonia de la inocencia se ahoga.

Los mejores carecen de toda convicción, mientras los peores

están llenos de apasionada intensidad.

jueves, 15 de junio de 2023

ODE TO JOY - AN DIE FREUDE - MY OWN TRANSLATION

 ODE TO JOY (An die Freude)

Anthem of the European Union

Melody by Ludwig van Beethoven

Original Lyrics in German by Friedrich Schiller

New English Lyrics (Unofficial) by Sandra Dermark

15 of June, MMXXIII


Joy of beauty, fair, elated,

offspring of Elysian wine,

we enter intoxicated

on you into your holy shrine.

Cast magic spells that tie what was

once split by custom's strict decree;

everyone under your soft wings

in cosmic fraternity.

Cast magic spells that tie what was

once split by custom's strict decree;

everyone under your soft wings

in cosmic fraternity.


miércoles, 13 de julio de 2022

Den militaire skole (Schloss Solitude) - H.C. Andersen

 Hvorledes gik det ham? Det gik ham godt, misundelsesværdigt godt! han var i høieste Naade taget op i den militaire Skole i Afdelingen, hvor de finere Folks Børn vare, og det var en Hæder, en Lykke; han gik med Støvletter, stivt Halsbind og puddret Paryk. Lærdommen fik han, og den kom under "Marsch!" "Holdt!" "Front!" Det kunde der nok komme Noget ud af. 

Det var heller ikke muligt at sige, hvad der vilde komme af den Klokke inde i det unge Bryst, der var en Malm derinde, den rungede, den maatte klinge ud i den vide Verden, og jo snevrere der blev bag Skolens Muur og jo mere døvende der lød "Marsch!" Holdt! Front!", des stærkere klang det i Ungersvendens Bryst, og han sang det for Kammeraternes Kreds, og Klangen lød ud over Landets Grændser; men derfor havde han ikke faaet Skolegang, Klæder og Føde!


 His career was to be good, and his future life enviable. We find him taking high honors at the military school in the division commanded by the member of a family high in position, and this was an honor, that is to say, good luck. He wore gaiters, stiff collars, and powdered hair, and by this he was recognized; and, indeed, he might be known by the word of command—“March! halt! front!”

 Equally impossible would it have been to believe that the tones of the old bell still echoed in the heart of the boy from Marbach; or that one day they would ring out loud enough and strong enough to be heard all over the world. They had already been heard in the narrow space behind the school-wall, even above the deafening sounds of “March! halt! front!” They had chimed so loudly in the heart of the youngster, that he had sung them to his companions, and their tones resounded to the very borders of the country. He was not a free scholar in the military school, neither was he provided with clothes or food. But he had his number, and his own peg; for everything here was ordered like clockwork, which we all know is of the greatest utility—people get on so much better together when their position and duties are understood. (H. B. PAULL)


And how did he get on? Well, he had been lucky, enviably lucky. He had been received graciously into the military school, and even into the section where the children of the rich people were. This was an honor, a piece of rare good fortune; and he wore top boots, a stiff collar, and a powdered wig. He was taught under the system of "March! Halt! Front!" This was likely to result in something!

Nobody could tell, either, what would come from the bell in the breast of the young man. There was a turmoil within him; it rang and echoed and strained to sound forth into the wide world. The more cramped the space within the school walls, the more deafening the commands of "March! Halt! Front!" the more strongly it rang within the youth's breast. What he felt he sang to his comrades, and it was heard beyond the boundaries of the country; but it was not for this that he had received a scholarship, clothing, and food. He already had the number of the screw he was to be in the great watchwork that we all belong to. (JEAN HERSHOLT)


At the ‘military school’– to use Andersen’s exact words for Schloss Solitude – the adolescent (Friedrich Schiller) suffers under the drill and instead of letting himself be deformed into a ‘cog … in the big wheel, to which all of us belong’ he lets the song ‘in his breast’ resound wide over the land-

(SABINA FAZLI ON H.C. ANDERSEN)