by Maria Tatar
The mother accepted the offer. She opened her garden of corn to him and let him nest in her trees.
The parrot flew over to the high mountain and, taking advantage of the condor’s momentary distraction, picked up the young girl and flew her right back to her mother. The girl was emaciated and she smelled bad because of the terrible food she had been eating. Her eyes, black like a dark night, were all that remained of her former beauty. Her body, which bore silky feathers, gave her the appearance of an outcast human disguised as a bird. The mother took the girl in her arms, washed her body with the tears from her eyes, and then dressed her in her best clothes. She put the girl in her lap and gazed at her with infinite tenderness.
The condor, outraged and disconsolate after what the parrot had done to him, went out in search of the bird. He found him in the garden, stuffed with corn, flitting from tree to tree, carefree and happy.
The condor swooped down on the parrot and swallowed it whole with its big mouth. The parrot promptly came out the other end. The condor swallowed the parrot again and the parrot once again flew out from behind. The condor, furious because he was not able to destroy his hated adversary, took him between his sharp claws and tore him to pieces, which he ate one by one. Yet to his great surprise, a beautiful little parrot flew out from behind for every piece he ate.
The Amerindians say that this is how these attractive little birds came into being.
The grieving condor flew back to the mountain, dyed his feathers black as a sign of mourning, and wept bitter tears for his beloved shepherdess. His tears turned into black butterflies, which flew into the home of his beloved.
THE PARROT PRINCE
Chile
Combining features of “Cinderella” with “East of the Sun and West of the Moon,” this story gives us a named heroine, one who becomes a commanding force in nature rather than allowing herself to become a prisoner of toxic family circumstances. Instead of weeping, she embarks on a mission. With many new twists (getting stepsisters drunk and learning to heal by listening to animals chatter), the tale challenges us to rethink how motifs are recycled and reinvented. The opening sentence emphasizes how stories are preserved and transmitted, while the final one points to the ephemeral nature of oral traditions. There is genius in creating a conclusion that invites listeners to be part of the project of conserving stories before they vanish, like breath in the wind.
There once lived a widowed gentleman who had a very beautiful daughter named Mariquita, and he loved her dearly, doted on her, and did whatever he could to make her happy. But Mariquita felt very lonely, and she wished that there were other girls in her house with whom she could play and have fun while her father went out and managed his business.
Well, in the neighboring house there was a widow with three young daughters, all older than Mariquita and quite ugly. This widow was always watching Mariquita, giving her sweets and all types of candies. The daughters treated her with affection and would say to her, “Tell your papa to marry our mama and then we will live together and play all day long.” And they said this so often, and treated her so tenderly, that Mariquita came to believe that she would be the happiest girl in the land once the wedding took place. So she began to plead with her father, begging him at all hours of the day to marry the neighboring widow. Eventually, the man gave in to the girl’s requests, but he did this only to please her. And thus a marriage ceremony was performed.
The wedding celebrations were barely over when things began to change completely for poor Mariquita. Instead of hugs, sweets, and candies, she received nothing from her stepmother and stepsisters but rude treatment, scolding, and beatings.
The poor girl felt responsible for what happened to her, so she endured everything in silence and said nothing to her father. And she would have continued to remain quiet about her suffering for who knows how long if the abuse had not become so excessive. One day, when the owner of the house was away, the daughters of the widow dragged Mariquita around by her hair. And when the girl complained about this to her stepmother, that evil woman, instead of reprimanding her daughters for their bad behavior, grabbed a stick and gave her several strong blows, saying to her, “Stop your complaining, you scamp. Who knows how many bad things you did before my little girls decided to punish you!” But the truth was that the three girls hated Mariquita. They envied her because she was beautiful, while they were ugly, and because she was the sole heiress to her father’s wealth, while they were poor. And for these same reasons, the old woman could not stand her either.
When her father arrived home, Mariquita told him what had happened and revealed to him the suffering she had endured up to that point. She did not blame him for the situation, but begged him to let her live alone in a little house that her mother had bequeathed to her when she died. The father agreed to her request, since he saw no other way for peace to return to his family.
After so many days of suffering, a time of prosperity came to Mariquita. Her life passed by happily as she kept house and watched over a little garden with some trees whose shade invited her to rest.
One afternoon, while she was sweeping the patio, she heard a voice, which spoke these words: “Mariquita, may I help you sweep?” Astonished, she looked around, but saw no one. Then she heard the voice again. “Don’t be frightened, Mariquita, I’m speaking to you from the branches of the peumo tree.” She looked up at the tree and saw a parrot dressed in brilliant feathers of the most beautiful colors.
“Hey, pretty little parrot,” she said. “How can I come up to your perch?”
The parrot answered, “Would you like me to come down?”
“Yes, come down and stay with me. You will be my companion. I am so lonely! How I will watch over you! What delicious things I will give you to eat! Walnuts, chocolates, bread with wine, sweets. . . .”
“Right now I can’t,” the parrot replied. “I have to fly away, but I will return tonight. Open your window, and leave a basin of water, a hand towel, a comb, and a mirror there for me.” And then he took flight.
As soon as it was dark, Mariquita opened the window and placed on the sill the objects that the parrot had requested. Full of impatience, she sat there, waiting for it to return. When midnight arrived, she heard the flapping of the parrot’s wings and knew that it was approaching. She watched the parrot alight in the water and bathe happily. It left the basin and dried itself, then combed its feathers, admiring itself in the mirror. Finally, it leapt up, knelt down on its feet, and turned into the most handsome prince imaginable.
I will relate nothing of what the two said to each other, except that in the morning, upon departing, the prince promised to return to her every night and remain with her until dawn. He handed her a huge sack of money, then flew over to the bowl, and turned into a parrot again. He took flight and was lost in the skies.
The parrot fulfilled his promise and the visits were repeated night after night.
Mariquita felt happier than ever. The prince adored her. She wore costly silk dresses, and the most valuable jewels imaginable adorned her ears, her neck, and her arms.
One day, one of Mariquita’s stepsisters passed by the house and spotted her in the window. She went to tell her mother and sisters how beautifully dressed and bejeweled Mariquita was.
“Someone is giving her money,” said the old woman, “because she doesn’t have the wherewithal to buy things of such value.” Turning to her oldest daughter, she added, “It would be good if you were to pay her a visit and spend the night there so that you could observe what happens and then come tell us what you saw.”
The next day the oldest went to visit Mariquita and told her a thousand lies: that they regretted so much that she had left their house; that they missed her so much; that she had not been an ingrate; that her mother and her sisters were dying to see her again; and that she had come to see her to spend all day and all night with her. Mariquita, ever obliging, thanked her a
nd showed her much affection. But fearing that her stepsister would see the prince arrive and hear the two of them talking, she plied her with one drink after another during dinner, and the girl, who was fond of drink, downed one glass after another. Before rising from the table, she was so drunk that a wagon could have rolled on top of her without her noticing it. Mariquita put her into a room next to hers and waited patiently for the prince.
The next day, the stepsister awoke not too early in the morning, after dreaming the previous night away and never realizing what had taken place so close to her. When she arrived back home, she told her mother and sisters how well Mariquita had arranged her household and how generously she had served her, which incited the envy of that evil trio all the more. The mother was annoyed with the girl because she had not seen what mattered, so she ordered the middle child, in her turn, to visit her stepsister, exhorting her not to fall asleep. But this girl fared no better than her older sister: she drank too much and returned home knowing as much as she knew before going out.
The youngest of the girls, who was also the most hideous, the most mean-spirited, and the most spiteful toward Mariquita, said to her mother, “I will go now, and I will find out everything there is to know.”
And so it happened, indeed, because she only pretended to drink, never slept, and passed the entire night near a candle, keeping an eye on the keyhole of the door that connected her bedroom with Mariquita’s. She witnessed the arrival of the parrot, saw him bathe in the basin and then turn into the most beautiful prince. Finally, she watched as he sat down next to Mariquita, spoke to her affectionately, and caressed her. Rage was consuming the stepsister, who spent the entire night in the same position, with her eye glued to the keyhole, never blinking, never moving, no matter how uncomfortable the position was. She remained that way until the moment when, as the day brightened, the prince gave his lover a sack of money, said farewell with an affectionate kiss, dove into the basin, turned back into a parrot, and took flight.
Not much later, the jealous girl bid farewell to her stepsister, assuring her that she had had a wonderful day and night, and saying that, if it were not too much of a burden, she would gladly repeat the visit. Mariquita told her, in turn, that her presence had been a joy and that she should come to visit whenever she wished, assuring her that she would always be well received. The stepsister casually walked out of Mariquita’s house with a smile on her face. When she was barely out of sight, she began to run home. Upon arrival, the furious girl shouted gleefully:
“Mama, look at how I beat them all! These stupid girls fell asleep and saw nothing, but I didn’t fall asleep, and I saw everything, everything, everything!”
And speaking hastily, she recounted what she had witnessed.
Once her story was finished, the mother said, “Ah! We have them now! That hussy will not talk tonight with her famous prince. I will go and make sure of it.”
Indeed, a little before midnight, the old woman, hiding herself in the shadows, reached the window where the prince entered, and without making the slightest noise, she put three sharp knives in the basin with their edges pointed upward. She then kept guard, watching everything from a distance.
At midnight, the parrot followed his usual ritual and landed in the basin, but this time the knives ripped into his body. He experienced pain so intense that he let out a shrill cry. And looking at Mariquita, who had hurried over to see what had happened, he spoke with a plaintive voice: “What have I done to you, ingrate, that you would mistreat me in this way? This is how you repay my affection? Today is the day that my enchantment was to end. With this betrayal, you have most likely lost me forever. Should you ever come to regret your actions and decide to search for me, you will need to wear out the soles of iron shoes in order to find me.”
And so the parrot flew up into the sky, while tears ran down the face of the poor girl, who wasn’t given the chance to say even one word. Only after she saw the knives in the water, reddened with the blood of the prince, did she understand what had happened.
The old woman saw and heard everything from the hiding place where she was spying on the two. Radiant with joy because of the success of her mission, she went back to her house to tell her daughters. All three of the girls celebrated their victory, but the one who took the greatest joy in the misfortune of Mariquita was the youngest.
Mariquita cried bitter tears for a good while, but she soon realized that searching for her beloved made better sense than weeping. She immediately ordered a pair of iron shoes to be made, which she put on as soon as they were delivered. Then she set out on her adventure. To move as quickly as possible, she packed nothing but a bundle of linen, some thread, a needle, a pair of sharp scissors, and a bottle for water. With this package for her prince, she walked for a long time through hills and plains, without stopping and resting, suffering a thousand hardships and miseries, until one day she became so tired that she simply could go no farther. She arrived at a mountain near a lagoon and lay down on a thicket in order to rest. Then she stretched her legs out to make herself comfortable and shouted, “Oh, joyous day!” for she realized that the soles of her iron shoes were completely worn out, so much so that her toes were sticking out of the fronts of both shoes—a clear sign, so she thought, that she would soon encounter her beloved.
It began to grow dark. Dead tired, Mariquita rested for a while with her eyelids closed, but she did not fall asleep, because she could hear the loud noise of fluttering wings, which stopped very close to her, causing her to open her eyes and pay attention. The next moment, she heard a renewed beating of wings and realized that three ducks were talking to each other. “Well, old friend, how are our plans going? And you, goddaughter, how are things?”
“We are fine, old friend. We have just arrived here from our house, where we left my idiot of a husband sleeping, and my two older daughters, who are no better than he is. Yes, the only worthy person in my life is your goddaughter, and for that reason I take her everywhere, since she is a witch just like us. And what news do you bring us of the parrot prince? Will he die soon?”
“He should be dead by now,” said the goddaughter.
“He has no more than two or three days, old friend. The wounds made by the knives that you placed in the basin have begun to fester, and the doctors have not been able to find a remedy. And who could possibly find one? But let us speak quietly, old friend, and conceal ourselves, since the walls have ears and the bushes have eyes. Who could ever know that the prince would be able to heal in three days if someone plucked a feather from each of our right wings, dipped it in our blood, and placed one of the feathers over his wounds every day? Of course, in order for this to happen, someone would have to kill us first.”
“They’ll never be able to guess that, old friend, so dear to my soul! The Devil would never permit them to know such things!”
“Let’s go to sleep, old friend. I’m very tired, because I woke up very early.”
“Same for the two of us, old friend. We are going to rest. Tomorrow we’ll continue our conversation.”
Waddling around, the three ducks set themselves down between some reeds on the shores of the lagoon.
The talking ducks were actually three witches: the stepmother of Mariquita, the youngest daughter, and the girl’s godmother. They met there every Saturday night, transformed into ducks, to discuss the news of the week.
Mariquita waited about an hour, then came out of hiding armed with her scissors, which were large and very sharp. She went over to where the ducks were sleeping. The three of them were situated some distance from each other. The first one that Mariquita encountered was her stepmother. Taking her by the neck, she cut off her head with a single snip of the scissors. She placed some of the blood in the bottle that she had brought with her and plucked a feather from the right wing. She then went in search of the next duck, which she found right away, and it turned out to be her stepsister. Mariquita the
n did to her exactly what she had done to her stepmother. Finally, she performed the same operation on the stepsister’s godmother. After this, Mariquita departed in haste for the city. Upon arrival, she swapped her clothing for what a man she met on the road was wearing. He gave her his clothes in exchange for all of the money she was carrying. Disguised as a man, she entered the city.
After walking for a while, she met a woman, who was moving very slowly because she seemed burdened by sorrows. Mariquita stopped the woman and asked her, “What is happening, sweet woman, that causes you to be so troubled?”
“Well, little boy, I will tell you what is happening,” answered the old woman. “The prince, the son of the king our dear lord, is dying, and the doctors say that he is unlikely to survive beyond today.”
“Oh, sweet woman! I am a doctor, and if I were allowed in the palace, I am sure that I could heal the ailing prince in three days.”
“Really, little boy? I will take you to the palace. I raised the prince from when he was an infant, and I can enter the palace whenever I want.”
And so the two of them made their way to the palace.
The little old woman was the first to speak with the king. He ordered the young doctor to be admitted to the prince’s room, commanding everyone to leave the doctor alone with his patient.
When everyone had left, Mariquita could no longer hold back the bitter tears that flowed down her cheeks. The prince was unconscious, with his eyes closed, and his wounds gave off a repulsive odor. In tears, she took one of the feathers plucked from the wings of the ducks and, smearing it with the blood she had put into her bottle, she rubbed it gently against the prince’s wounds.
Early the next day, the king went to see his son.
“How is he faring?” the king asked the fellow pretending to be a doctor.
“Much better, sir. Approach him and see for yourself: the worms have vanished and the wounds have formed a crust.”
