The Long Path to Wisdom

by Jan-Philipp Sendker

  The young man took off his hat, examined it briefly, and put it back on.

  The monkeys did the same.

  The young hat maker then fanned himself theatrically with his hat. Again the monkeys screeched, swung about in the branches, and imitated the man.

  The grandson confidently took his hat in hand a third time. He held it high for all to see. The monkeys watched with bated breath. The young man exaggerated a look of disgust and called loudly: “I do not like this hat at all anymore.” With that he flung the hat energetically into the grass.

  High above him the monkeys burst into laughter. They shrieked and bared their teeth, they thrashed around in the treetop, they threw their hats into the air, and they caught them again. Not a single monkey threw his hat to the ground.

  The young man stood helpless at the foot of the tree. Then he saw one of the monkeys climbing down to him. With one final leap the animal landed right in front of him. “You have a grandfather who told you tales and taught you a trick or two,” he said with a broad grin, “but we monkeys have grandfathers, too!”

  There once lived a handsome young man who was known about town for his intelligence, affability, and wit. He came from a well-to-do family and would have enjoyed a carefree childhood but for his fear of snakes. Any time he happened upon a snake, be it ever so small and harmless, he would run home screaming, and there was little anyone could do to console him. At night he would dream that cobras and vipers were chasing him. No matter how fast he ran, they always caught him and bit him.

  Nor did marriage do anything to temper his fear. Time and again he swore to his wife that he would one day die of a snake bite. But she must not have him cremated, as was the custom. She must instead tie him to a raft and allow him to drift downriver to the sea.

  One day his wife heard a terrible cry from the garden. She rushed out only to find her husband lying motionless on the path while a venomous snake slithered away through the grass. The woman broke into a loud lamentation and sent for a carpenter so that at least she might honor her husband’s dying wish. The craftsman built the raft, and amid many tears the young man was sent on his final journey.

  Downstream there lived a snake charmer with his three daughters, who happened to be swimming and playing in the water just as the body floated past. “Look, a raft with a corpse,” cried the eldest. Her sister swam out and pulled with all her might to bring the raft ashore. The youngest of the three ran home to fetch their father. Upon examining the lifeless body, the snake charmer noticed the bite and declared to his daughters that the young man was not dead and that he could save him. They dragged him to their nearby hut, where the father drew the poison from the wound and rubbed the young man’s chest with his ointments. Soon enough the seemingly dead man came back to his senses. The three sisters fell in love with him at first sight, and there followed an energetic argument about who should be allowed to marry him.

  “He belongs to me,” insisted the first. “I am the one who spotted him floating in the river.”

  “Nonsense,” spat the second. “If it hadn’t been for me pulling him to shore, he would not be with us at all. I have the right to be his wife.”

  “Ridiculous,” objected the third. “If I hadn’t fetched our father he would have died before our eyes. I should be the one to marry him.”

  The sisters’ quarrel got nastier and nastier until the eldest finally called an end to it. “There are many young men. Let’s be done fighting. If we can’t agree, then let him go his own way.”

  The middle sister agreed, but the youngest did not. “If none of us can have him, then no one at all shall marry him,” she cried, and in the blink of an eye she slipped a magical ribbon over the ankle of the startled young man. All at once he transformed into a beautiful parrot and flew away.

  In his search for food, the parrot chanced to land in the king’s garden. It was a sprawling park with numerous magnificent flowers that the bird plucked one after the other. The furious gardener tried to drive him off with a few stones, but he was a poor shot and every one of them went wide of its mark. Eventually he managed to lure the bird into a trap. He brought him to the king and reported in a fluster what this good-for-nothing parrot had done. Then he asked for permission to kill him.

  The king, however, took a shine to the handsome animal with his brilliant plumage. He commanded that a golden cage be prepared for the bird, and he presented it to his daughter. The young princess was immediately smitten with the parrot. She was bored to death of her lavishly appointed tower chamber, and she passed many hours of the day engaged with her new companion. She taught him a few words and tamed him so that he would sit on her shoulder and eat from her hand.

  One day she noticed a small yellow ribbon on his foot. Curious, she untied it, and before her eyes the bird transformed into the handsome young man he had previously been. The two fell in love at once, and so began a months-long affair that was as passionate as it was secret. As soon as anyone approached the princess’s chamber she would tie the magic ribbon around his foot and he would turn again into the parrot.

  Eventually the chambermaids grew suspicious of the loud and joyful sounds that would emanate at times from the princess’s room. They crept to the door and spied through the keyhole. A young man! In the princess’s bedroom! The gentlewomen’s cries of dismay resounded through the palace. Prepared to kill an intruder, the palace guard hurried to the scene and thoroughly searched the princess’s chamber, but they found only the king’s daughter and her parrot. The bird was so agitated that the commandant decided to take a closer look. Before he could seize it, however, the parrot flew into the air and darted about the room. Alarmed by the soldiers’ sharp lances, it screeched loudly and disappeared out the window.

  Everything might have turned out all right, had not the parrot’s ribbon caught on a hook in the window frame. The ribbon came loose and the parrot transformed before their eyes into a young man. He fell into a bush at the base of the tower, where he lay stunned but mercifully uninjured. Hearing the cries of the fast-approaching soldiers, he sprang to his feet and dashed off.

  He was fleet of foot, but his pursuers were unrelenting. Gradually his strength began to wane, and he looked desperately for someplace to hide. He spotted a villa in the distance and made for it as fast as his feet would carry him. He burst through the door, disrupting a wealthy merchant at lunch with his wife and daughter.

  “You must save me,” the young man pleaded. “The king’s soldiers are after me, but I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  The host knew from his own experience that the king was not always just. “Sit down at the table, and act as if you are one of us,” he said, setting an extra place for the stranger.

  Not long after, the palace guard burst through the door. “We are looking for an intruder,” they shouted, “and we saw him run into this house.”

  “We didn’t notice anything, but feel free to look around,” replied the merchant. “In the meantime, please allow my wife, my daughter, my son-in-law, and me to finish our meal in peace.”

  The soldiers turned the whole house upside down, but because they had not seen their quarry’s face, they never suspected a thing. Eventually they apologized for the disturbance and continued their search elsewhere.

  The daughter, on the other hand, had fallen head-over-heels in love with the visitor, and she asked her parents for permission to marry him. They were inclined to honor their only child’s every wish, and since the young man did not object, they were married a few days later.

  As for the princess, her heart was broken. She ceased to speak, eat, or drink, and she fell quite ill. Her father summoned the most renowned healers in the entire realm, but no one knew what was wrong with her or how to ease her suffering. The king came to his daughter and ordered the others to leave the room. “Dearest,” he began, “you are the most important thing in the world to me. Tell me, is there truly nothing I can do for you?”


  At that the princess broke down and told him all that had happened and how her heart would fall to pieces if she could never see her beloved again.

  The king knew just what to do. He commanded that the royal theater stage a performance, to which he invited all the leading families and nobles in his realm. Anyone who refused the invitation would face a severe punishment.

  During the performance the princess went through the aisles closely examining each guest. It was not long before she found her lover and his new bride. “You have stolen my man,” shrieked the furious princess.

  “It would seem that he left you,” the young bride replied coolly. “He’s with me now.”

  Just then another woman leapt up and declared that this man was her dead husband, and that he belonged to her.

  The quarrel gathered energy until the king called upon the highest judge in the land for help.

  The judge listened to each woman’s story, and after careful consideration, issued this decision: “The first woman thought her husband was dead, and she gave him up to the river. At that moment their marriage was over. The princess then lived with him in a marriage-like relationship. She freed him from his curse and cared for him. But she did not protect him when her father’s soldiers hunted and tried to kill him. For that reason she, too, has no legitimate claim. The rich merchant’s daughter and her family, on the other hand, provided him sanctuary. Without her help he would have been captured and executed by the soldiers. She is, therefore, his only rightful wife.”

  There was once a couple who lived in a village and wished more than anything for a child. They practiced patience, as the neighbors suggested. They drank the teas the herbalist brewed for them. They tried on the days the astrologer recommended.

  All for naught.

  They had nearly abandoned hope when the woman became pregnant after all and gave birth to a son. It was the most beautiful day in her husband’s life. He could not take his eyes off the miracle in his arms. The baby was very big, much bigger and stronger than other infants. The man did not mind. “Every child is different,” he informed the astonished neighbors.

  Nor was he surprised when the child uttered his first words after only a few hours. “I am hungry,” the lad cried loudly and clearly.

  “He has a healthy appetite,” the father said as he started to feed his son. And the boy never stopped eating. At one month old he would eat more for breakfast than three other children would eat in a day. By one year old he was insatiable, eating enough rice and vegetables at a single meal to satisfy an entire family.

  “There’s something wrong with that kid,” the neighbors whispered, eyeing him with suspicion. But the parents loved their son above all else and would not hear any of it. Even when the young boy started to grow beyond all proportion, they did not mind in the least. “Every child is different,” the father repeated again and again.

  When the five-year-old boy towered head and shoulders over his parents, his own mother began to find him unsettling.

  “He frightens me,” she told her husband one evening while the boy was asleep.

  “Don’t you get started with that nonsense,” the father replied, incensed. “He is our beloved son; let him eat and grow as much as he likes.”

  To keep the child from starving, the father got up before the sun each day to work his fields, and he was happy to do it. But even as the boy matured there was no indication that his growth or appetite was slowing down, and the father was starting to worry. He had to admit that he and his wife were no longer the youngest and that their energy was gradually flagging. How much longer could they hope to keep their child’s hunger at bay, especially when he seemed disinclined to lend a hand in the fields?

  So the father and son had a serious talk: “My dear boy, you are so big and strong, and your parents are getting weary from all the work. It’s time for you to help us out.”

  “Of course!” the boy replied: “I would be delighted. Just tell me what I can do, and I’ll take care of it.”

  The father, much relieved, explained to him that in the coming weeks a section of the forest would have to be cleared to make room for new fields. The next day he went to the village smith and bought a new ax. He gave it to his son, who smiled at him indulgently. “My honored father, what should I do with such a small tool? Get me a respectable ax so that I can help you properly.”

  The man went back to the smith and purchased the largest ax. Yet this tool, too, looked like a toy in his son’s mighty hands. In the end the smith forged an ax so big and heavy that he could move it only with the help of two journeymen.

  “This one is just right,” the son cried, elated. “Now, dear father, show me the trees you want me to cut down.”

  The two set out in good spirits. The farmer was hoping to clear a sizable area, and he expected it would take weeks. The son, on the other hand, seemed unimpressed by the amount of work before them. “Father, you have worked so much for my sake. Go home and rest. I’ll get started, and you can check on my progress this evening.”

  The father was not entirely comfortable with the prospect of leaving his child alone, be he ever so big and strong. But his joints ached, and he was exhausted and grateful for the offer.

  When he returned in the afternoon, not one tree was down, and his son was nowhere in sight. Filled with dread, he ran through the wood in search of him and found him asleep in a clearing, his head nestled on a boulder. The father gazed tenderly at his sleeping son. True, he was a giant, but he was also still a child, and a sweet one at that. Even with all the work that lay before them, he could not bring himself to wake the lad. Soon enough the boy woke on his own and flinched at the sight of his father. “I am so sorry. I was a little sleepy, and I thought I would rest a bit. Now I’ve slept the whole day away. Forgive me.”

  “Don’t worry,” the father answered lovingly. “We’ll just start tomorrow. It’s too late for today. Let’s go home. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

  “No, no. You go ahead. I’ll get started on the work and join you later.”

  “But it’ll be dark soon.”

  “No matter. Don’t worry about a thing.”

  “Parents always worry,” the farmer remarked with a smile, then headed home to his wife.

  His son, meanwhile, set to work. He was felling trees at lightning speed. A few powerful strokes sufficed to topple the largest of them as if it were a stalk of straw. In no time at all every tree or bush in the vicinity was down. Feeling satisfied, the boy set off for home.

  The next morning, when the father saw what his son had accomplished, he nearly burst with pride. He must tell everyone in the village how diligent and helpful his child was. The other farmers were rightly flabbergasted when they saw the trees all chopped down and neatly stacked. But their amazement soon turned to envy and resentment. This giant could knock out in a few easy hours what for them represented weeks of drudgery. Imagine what he could do when it came to planting and harvesting! The old farmer and his wife needed hardly lift a finger, and still they would soon be among the wealthiest in the village.

  And so they began to sow the seeds of doubt and fear. They took every opportunity to warn the old farmer about his child. He was a giant with superhuman strength, and still he was growing and getting stronger. For now he was gentle and good-natured, but what if he became aggressive or ill-tempered as a young man or even turned against his mother and father? No one would be able to stop him. He was a threat to the entire village, not least of all his parents. It was high time to be rid of him.

  The father refused to listen to such prattle. It was nothing but chatty nonsense. He loved his son far too much to think even for a second of sending him away.

  When the villagers saw how the old man ignored them, they decided to ambush the father and son and kill them. They invited them both to join them on a hunt. The father hoped it might be the end of their animosity, and the son was always willing to help, so the
y both accepted without a second thought.

  A couple of the farmers sent the two ahead into a ravine that was known for treacherous rockslides. Meanwhile, the others were doing all they could to trigger an avalanche. They were able to get a few fragments of rock rolling. Those drew others in their wake, and they all bore deafeningly down on the father and son. One swift leap brought the father to safety behind a cliff face, but the son stood there calmly. He caught the largest boulder and lugged it back to the village. It was so heavy that ten men would not have been able to carry it. The lad set it down, but not carefully enough, so that it started to roll. It thundered right through the village, leaving a trail of devastation. Huts, houses, stables—nothing that stood in its path was left unscathed. By some miracle no one was killed, but several pigs, cows, and calves were dead.

  The villagers were outraged. Had they not warned the old man? Had they not pointed out the danger the boy giant posed? It was only by chance that no lives were lost. Next time they would not be so lucky. And now it really was time to be rid of that child once and for all.

  The old man had no idea what to do. He loved his son, but maybe the villagers were right: It was only a matter of time before the boy would cause some dreadful calamity with his unbelievable strength. Full of despair, he tried for days to come up with some solution, but nothing came to mind.

  “What’s troubling you?” the son asked. “Can I do anything to help?”

  “No,” replied the father, and his heart clenched into a knot.

  In the end he bade his child follow him into the woods to help him fell a tree. When they had found one with a massive trunk, he suggested that they first take a little rest. Within minutes the son had fallen asleep, and the father set to work on the tree so that it would crush the child when it fell. At the last stroke, as the tree began to fall, the child woke and just managed to dodge the falling monstrosity.

  “Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked innocently. “I would have been happy to do that for you.” He shouldered the massive trunk and dragged it to the village, where he dropped it so clumsily in the family’s yard that the massive boughs and crown utterly destroyed the house and stable.