Angela Carter's Book Of Fairy Tales

by Angela Carter

  So that was another big silly.

  Then the gentleman went on his travels again; and he came to a village, and outside the village there was a pond, and round the pond was a crowd of people. And they had got rakes, and brooms, and pitchforks, reaching into the pond; and the gentleman asked what was the matter. ‘Why,’ they say, ‘matter enough! Moon’s tumbled into the pond, and we can’t rake her out anyhow!’ So the gentleman burst out a-laughing, and told them to look up into the sky, and that it was only the shadow in the water. But they wouldn’t listen to him, and abused him shamefully, and he got away as quick as he could.

  So there was a whole lot of sillies bigger than them three sillies at home.

  So the gentleman turned back home again, and married the farmer’s daughter, and if they don’t live happy for ever after, that’s nothing to do with you or me.

  THE BOY WHO HAD NEVER SEEN WOMEN

  (AFRICAN AMERICAN)

  here was a boy in Alabama, I think, they raised never to see a girl till he was twenty-one – they was kind of ’sperimenting. He was raised by mens. So when he was twenty-one his daddy carried him to where the high school children would pass by when they came home for dinner at noon. And he seen them from the windows coming along so pretty, with their ribbons and long hair (’cause they had long hair in those days), and smiling and playing. And he said, ‘Daddy, Daddy, come here. Looky looky, what are those?’ ‘Those are ducks.’ ‘Give me one, Daddy.’ ‘Which one do you want?’ ‘It don’t make no difference, Daddy, any one.’

  So it’s better to let them grow up with each other, so they can pick a little.

  THE OLD WOMAN WHO LIVED IN A VINEGAR BOTTLE

  (ENGLISH)

  nce upon a time there was an old woman who lived in a vinegar bottle. One day a fairy was passing that way, and she heard the old woman talking to herself.

  ‘It is a shame, it is a shame, it is a shame,’ said the old woman. ‘I didn’t ought to live in a vinegar bottle. I ought to live in a nice little cottage with a thatched roof, and roses growing all up the wall, that I ought.’

  So the fairy said, ‘Very well, when you go to bed tonight you turn round three times, and shut your eyes, and in the morning you’ll see what you will see.’

  So the old woman went to bed, and turned round three times, and shut her eyes, and in the morning there she was, in a pretty little cottage with a thatched roof, and roses growing up the walls. And she was very surprised, and very pleased, but she quite forgot to thank the fairy.

  And the fairy went north, and she went south, and she went east, and she went west, all about the business she had to do. And presently she thought, ‘I’ll go and see how that old woman is getting on. She must be very happy in her little cottage.’

  And as she got up to the front door, she heard the old woman talking to herself.

  ‘It is a shame, it is a shame, it is a shame,’ said the old woman. ‘I didn’t ought to live in a little cottage like this, all by myself. I ought to live in a nice little house in a row of houses, with lace curtains at the windows, and a brass knocker on the door, and people calling mussels and cockles outside, all merry and cheerful.’

  The fairy was rather surprised; but she said: ‘Very well. You go to bed tonight, and turn round three times, and shut your eyes, and in the morning you shall see what you shall see.’

  So the old woman went to bed, and turned round three times, and shut her eyes, and in the morning there she was in a nice little house, in a row of little houses, with lace curtains at the windows, and a brass knocker on the door, and people calling mussels and cockles outside, all merry and cheerful. And she was very much surprised, and very much pleased. But she quite forgot to thank the fairy.

  And the fairy went north, and she went south, and she went east, and she went west, all about the business she had to do; and after a time she thought to herself, ‘I’ll go and see how that old woman is getting on. Surely she must be happy now.’

  And when she got to the little row of houses, she heard the old woman talking to herself. ‘It is a shame, it is a shame, it is a shame,’ said the old woman. ‘I didn’t ought to live in a row of houses like this, with common people on each side of me. I ought to live in a great mansion in the country, with a big garden all round it, and servants to answer the bell.’

  And the fairy was very surprised, and rather annoyed, but she said: ‘Very well, go to bed and turn round three times, and shut your eyes, and in the morning you will see what you will see.’

  And the old woman went to bed, and turned round three times, and shut her eyes, and in the morning there she was, in a great mansion in the country, surrounded by a fine garden, and servants to answer the bell. And she was very pleased and very surprised, and she learned how to speak genteelly, but she quite forgot to thank the fairy.

  And the fairy went north, and she went south, and she went east, and she went west, all about the business she had to do; and after a time she thought to herself, ‘I’ll go and see how that old woman is getting on. Surely she must be happy now.’

  But no sooner had she got near the old woman’s drawing-room window than she heard the old woman talking to herself in a genteel voice.

  ‘It certainly is a very great shame,’ said the old woman, ‘that I should be living alone here, where there is no society. I ought to be a duchess, driving in my own coach to wait on the Queen, with footmen running beside me.’

  The fairy was very much surprised, and very much disappointed, but she said: ‘Very well. Go to bed tonight, and turn round three times, and shut your eyes; and in the morning you shall see what you shall see.’

  So the old woman went to bed, and turned round three times, and shut her eyes; and in the morning, there she was, a duchess with a coach of her own, to wait on the Queen, and footmen running beside her. And she was very much surprised, and very much pleased. BUT she quite forgot to thank the fairy.

  And the fairy went north, and she went south, and she went east, and she went west, all about the business she had to do; and after a while she thought to herself: ‘I’d better go and see how that old woman is getting on. Surely she is happy, now she’s a duchess.’

  But no sooner had she come to the window of the old woman’s great town mansion, than she heard her saying in a more genteel tone than ever: ‘It is indeed a very great shame that I should be a mere Duchess, and have to curtsey to the Queen. Why can’t I be a queen myself, and sit on a golden throne, with a golden crown on my head, and courtiers all around me.’

  The fairy was very much disappointed and very angry, but she said: ‘Very well. Go to bed and turn round three times, and shut your eyes, and in the morning you shall see what you shall see.’

  So the old woman went to bed, and turned round three times, and shut her eyes; and in the morning there she was in a royal palace, a queen in her own right, sitting on a golden throne, with a golden crown on her head, and her courtiers all around her. And she was highly delighted, and ordered them right and left. BUT she quite forgot to thank the fairy.

  And the fairy went north, and she went south, and she went east, and she went west, all about the business she had to do; and after a while she thought to herself: ‘I’ll go and see how that old woman is getting on. Surely she must be satisfied now!’

  But as soon as she got near the Throne Room, she heard the old woman talking.

  ‘It is a great shame, a very great shame,’ she said, ‘that I should be Queen of a paltry little country like this instead of ruling the whole round world. What I am really fitted for is to be Pope, to govern the minds of everyone on Earth.’

  ‘Very well,’ said the fairy. ‘Go to bed. Turn round three times, and shut your eyes, and in the morning you shall see what you shall see.’

  So the old woman went to bed, full of proud thoughts. She turned round three times, and shut her eyes. And in the morning she was back in her vinegar bottle.

  TOM TIT TOT

  (ENGLISH)

  nce upon a time th
ere was a woman, and she baked five pies. And when they came out of the oven, they were that over-baked the crusts were too hard to eat. So she says to her daughter:

  ‘Darter,’ says she, ‘put you them there pies on the shelf, and leave ’em there a little, and they’ll come again.’ She meant, you know, the crust would get soft.

  But the girl, she says to herself: ‘Well, if they’ll come again, I’ll eat ’em now.’ And she set to work and ate ’em all, first and last.

  Well, come supper-time the woman said: ‘Go you, and get one o’ them there pies. I dare say they’ve come again now.’

  The girl went and she looked, and there was nothing but the dishes. So back she came and says she: ‘Noo, they ain’t come again.’

  ‘Not one of ’em?’ says the mother.

  ‘Not one of ’em,’ says she.

  ‘Well, come again, or not come again,’ said the woman, ‘I’ll have one for supper.’

  ‘But you can’t, if they ain’t come,’ said the girl.

  ‘But I can,’ says she. ‘Go you, and bring the best of ’em.’

  ‘Best or worst,’ says the girl, ‘I’ve ate ’em all, and you can’t have one till that’s come again.’

  Well, the woman she was done, and she took her spinning to the door to spin, and as she span she sang:

  ‘My darter ha’ ate five, five pies today.

  My darter ha’ ate five, five pies today.’

  The king was coming down the street, and he heard her sing, but what she sang he couldn’t hear, so he stopped and said:

  ‘What was that you were singing, my good woman?’

  The woman was ashamed to let him hear what her daughter had been doing, so she sang, instead of that:

  ‘My darter ha’ spun five, five skeins today.

  My darter ha’ spun five, five skeins today.’

  ‘Stars o’ mine!’ said the king, ‘I never heard tell of anyone that could do that.’

  Then he said: ‘Look you here, I want a wife, and I’ll marry your daughter. But look you here,’ says he, ‘eleven months out of the year she shall have all she likes to eat, and all the gowns she likes to get, and all the company she likes to keep; but the last month of the year she’ll have to spin five skeins every day, and if she don’t I shall kill her.’

  ‘All right,’ says the woman; for she thought what a grand marriage that was. And as for the five skeins, when the time came, there’d be plenty of ways of getting out of it, and likeliest, he’d have forgotten all about it.

  Well, so they were married. And for eleven months the girl had all she liked to eat, and all the gowns she liked to get, and all the company she liked to keep.

  But when the time was getting over, she began to think about the skeins and to wonder if he had ’em in mind. But not one word did he say about ’em, and she thought he’d wholly forgotten ’em.

  However, the last day of the last month he takes her to a room she’d never set eyes on before. There was nothing in it but a spinning-wheel and a stool. And says he: ‘Now, my dear, here you’ll be shut in tomorrow with some victuals and some flax, and if you haven’t spun five skeins by the night, your head’ll go off.’

  And away he went about his business.

  Well, she was that frightened, she’d always been such a gatless girl, that she didn’t so much as know how to spin, and what was she to do tomorrow with no one to come nigh her to help her? She sat down on a stool in the kitchen, and law! how she did cry!

  However, all of a sudden she heard a sort of knocking low down on the door. She upped and oped it, and what should she see but a small little black thing with a long tail. That looked up at her right curious, and that said:

  ‘What are you a-crying for?’

  ‘What’s that to you?’ says she.

  ‘Never you mind,’ that said, ‘but tell me what you’re a-crying for.’

  ‘That won’t do me no good if I do,’ says she.

  ‘You don’t know that,’ that said, and twirled that’s tail round.

  ‘Well,’ says she, ‘that won’t do no harm, if that don’t do no good,’ and she upped and told about the pies, and the skeins and everything.

  ‘This is what I’ll do,’ says the little black thing, ‘I’ll come to your window every morning and take the flax and bring it spun at night.’

  ‘What’s your pay?’ says she.

  That looked out of the corner of that’s eyes, and that said: ‘I’ll give you three guesses every night to guess my name, and if you haven’t guessed it before the month’s up you shall be mine.’

  Well, she thought she’d be sure to guess that’s name before the month was up. ‘All right,’ says she, ‘I agree.’

  ‘All right,’ that says, and law! how that twirled that’s tail.

  Well, the next day, her husband took her into the room, and there was the flax and the day’s food.

  ‘Now there’s the flax,’ says he, ‘and if that ain’t spun up this night, off goes your head.’ And then he went out and locked the door.

  He’d hardly gone, when there was a knocking against the window. She upped and she oped it, and there sure enough was the little old thing sitting on the ledge.

  ‘Where’s the flax?’ says he.

  ‘Here it be,’ says she. And she gave it to him.

  Well, come the evening a knocking came again to the window. She upped and she oped it, and there was the little old thing with five skeins of flax on his arm.

  ‘Here it be,’ says he, and he gave it to her.

  ‘Now, what’s my name?’ says he.

  ‘What, is that Bill?’ says she.

  ‘Noo, that ain’t,’ says he, and he twirled his tail.

  ‘Is that Ned?’ says she.

  ‘Noo, that ain’t,’ says he, and he twirled his tail.

  ‘Well, is that Mark?’ says she.

  ‘Noo, that ain’t,’ says he, and he twirled his tail harder, and away he flew.

  Well, when her husband came in, there were the five skeins ready for him. ‘I see I shan’t have to kill you tonight, my dear,’ says he; ‘you’ll have your food and your flax in the morning,’ says he, and away he goes.

  Well, every day the flax and the food were brought, and every day that there little black impet used to come mornings and evenings. And all the day the girl sat trying to think of names to say to it when it came at night. But she never hit on the right one. And as it got towards the end of the month, the impet began to look so maliceful, and that twirled that’s tail faster and faster each time she gave a guess.

  At last it came to the last day but one. The impet came at night along with the five skeins, and that said:

  ‘What, ain’t you got my name yet?’

  ‘Is that Nicodemus?’ says she.

  ‘Noo, t’ain’t,’ that says.

  ‘Is that Sammle?’ says she.

  ‘Noo, t’ain’t,’ that says.

  ‘A-well, is that Methusaleh?’ says she.

  ‘Noo, t’ain’t that neither,’ that says.

  Then that looks at her with that’s eyes like a coal o’ fire and that says: ‘Woman, there’s only tomorrow night, and then you’ll be mine!’ And away it flew.

  Well, she felt that horrid. However, she heard the king coming along the passage. In he came, and when he sees the five skeins, he says, says he:

  ‘Well, my dear,’ says he. ‘I don’t see but what you’ll have your skeins ready tomorrow night as well, and as I reckon I shan’t have to kill you, I’ll have supper in here tonight.’ So they brought supper, and another stool for him and down the two sat.

  Well, he hadn’t eaten but a mouthful or so, when he stops and begins to laugh.

  ‘What is it?’ says she.

  ‘A-why,’ says he, ‘I was out a-hunting today and I got away to a place in the wood I’d never seen before. And there was an old chalk-pit. And I heard a kind of a sort of a humming. So I got off my hobby, and I went right quiet to the pit, and I looked down. Well, what should there be but the fu
nniest little black thing you ever set eyes on. And what was that doing, but that had a little spinning-wheel, and that was spinning wonderful fast, and twirling that’s tail. And as that span that sang:

  “Nimmy nimmy not

  My name’s Tom Tit Tot.”’

  Well, when the girl heard this, she felt as if she could have jumped out of her skin for joy, but she didn’t say a word.

  Next day that there little thing looked so maliceful when he came for the flax. And when night came, she heard that knocking against the window-panes. She oped the window and that come right in on the ledge. That was grinning from ear to ear, and Oo! that’s tail was twirling round so fast.

  ‘What’s my name?’ that says, as that gave her the skeins.

  ‘Is that Solomon?’ she says, pretending to be afeard.

  ‘Noo, t’ain’t,’ that says, and that came further into the room.

  ‘Well, is that Zebedee?’ says she again.

  ‘Noo, t’ain’t,’ says the impet. And then that laughed and twirled that’s tail till you couldn’t hardly see it.

  ‘Take time, woman,’ that says; ‘next guess, and you’re mine.’ And that stretched out that’s black hands at her.

  Well, she backed a step or two, and she looked at it, and then she laughed out, and says she, pointing her finger at it:

  ‘Nimmy nimmy not

  Your name’s Tom Tit Tot!’

  Well, when that heard her, that gave an awful shriek and away that flew into the dark, and she never saw it any more.