Grimm's Fairy Tales (Barnes & Noble Classics Series)

by Brothers Grimm

  “But where have you put the chain I gave you at the church-door?” asked the Prince.

  “What chain? you gave me no chain!” exclaimed the Bride. “But I hung it round your neck myself; and fastened it myself; and if you do not remember that, you are not the right Bride.” With that he tore the veil from her face, and when he saw her extreme ugliness, he exclaimed, springing away from her, “Who are you? whence come you?”

  “I am your betrothed Bride,” she replied; “but because I feared the people would mock me if I showed myself to them, I ordered our Kitchen-Girl to put on my dresses, and to go to church in my place.”

  “Where is the Girl, then, now? Go and fetch her immediately,” said the Prince.

  She went out and told the other servants that the Kitchen-Girl was an enchantress, and that they must drag her away from the court and cut off her head. The servants soon caught the Maiden, and would have done as they were told; but she cried so loudly for help, that the Prince heard her voice, and hastening out of his room gave orders for the Maiden’s instant release. Lights were immediately brought, and then the Prince perceived round the Maiden’s neck the golden chain which he had given her at the church-door.

  “You are the true Bride who went to church with me,” he exclaimed; “come with me now.” As soon as they were alone, he said to her, “On the way to church you named Jungfrau Maleen, who was once betrothed to me. Now, if I thought it possible, I should say that you were that Maiden, for you are so like to her.”

  “I am Jungfrau Maleen,” she replied, “and for seven long years have I been shut up in darkness; hunger and thirst, too, I have suffered, and in poverty and distress have I lived ever since; but on this day the sun shines again. I did indeed accompany you to church, and it was to me that you were married.”

  So the Prince recovered his true Bride, Jungfrau Maleen, and with her lived happily for many long years.

  But the false Bride had her head cut off.

  The Boots Made of Buffalo-Leather

  Asoldier who is afraid of nothing, cares for nothing. Now such an one had received his discharge, and because he had learnt no trade, he could earn no money; and so he wandered about hither and thither, begging alms of good people. Over his shoulders hung an old weather-proof cloak, and he had still left a pair of Buffalo-leather Boots. One day, thus equipped, he went on walking through the fields without attending to the guide-posts, and at last he came to an immense forest. He did not know where he was, but he saw a man sitting upon the trunk of a tree, who was well dressed in a green huntsman’s coat. The Soldier held out his hand to him, and then laying himself down on the grass stretched out his legs. “I see you have a pair of fine shining boots on,” said he to the Huntsman; “but if you had to walk about as much as I, they would not last you very long. Look at mine! they are made of Buffalo-leather, and although they have served me a long time, they would still ‘go through thick and thin.’ ” The Huntsman made no answer; and after a while the Soldier got up and said, “I can stop here no longer; hunger urges me forward; but pray, Brother Thin-Boots, where does this path lead?” “I do not know myself,” replied the Huntsman; “I have lost myself in this forest.” “Then you are in the same plight as I,” returned the Soldier; “like and like please one another; we will remain together and seek the way.” The Huntsman only laughed, but they set out together, and kept on till nightfall. “We shall not get out of this forest to-night,” exclaimed the Soldier at last; “but I can see a light glimmering in the distance, where they will give us something to eat.” It was a stone cottage, and when they knocked at the door, an old Woman opened it. “We are seeking a night’s lodging,” said the Soldier to her, “and some fodder for our stomachs, for mine is as empty as my purse.”

  “You cannot stop here,” answered the old Woman; “this is a robbers’ house, and you will be wise if you go away before they return, or you will be lost.”

  “It cannot be worse,” said the Soldier; “for two days I have not eaten a morsel; and so it is all one to me whether I perish in this house or out in the forest. I shall come in and risk it!”

  The Huntsman did not wish to follow, but the Soldier drawing his arm within his own, drew him in, saying, “Come, comrade; we will suffer together!”

  The old Woman pitied them, and told them to creep behind the oven, and then when the robbers were satisfied and slept, she would give them something to eat. Scarcely had they hid snugly in the corner, than in came the twelve robbers; and placing themselves round the table, demanded their supper with harsh language. The old Woman soon brought in an immense dish of baked meat, and the robbers prepared to fall to. Soon the smell of the savoury mess ascended the Soldier’s nose, and he said to the Huntsman, “I can hold out no longer, I must sit down at the table and take a share!” “You will lose your life!” whispered the Huntsman, holding him fast by the arm. The Soldier began to cough loudly, and as soon as the robbers heard this, they threw aside their knives and forks, and rising hastily from the table discovered the pair behind the oven. “Aha, you rascals!” they called; “what are you sitting there in that corner for? Are you sent as spies? Just wait a bit and you shall learn how to fly on a bare branch!” “Oh! have some manners, if you please!” returned the Soldier; “give us something to eat first, and afterwards you shall do what you like with us!” The robbers were astonished to hear such bold words, and the Captain said; “Good! I see you are not afraid; eat you shall, but afterwards you shall die.” “That is to be seen,” muttered the Soldier; and sitting down at the table, he began to cut and eat in earnest. “Brother Thin-Boots,” he exclaimed to the Huntsman, “come and eat; you are hungry as well as I, and a better joint than this you could not have at home.” The Huntsman however refused; and the robbers looking at the Soldier, said to one another, “This fellow makes no ceremony.” When he had done eating, he asked for something to drink, saying, “Well the meat was good enough; now let us have a good draught of wine.” The Captain happened to be in a good humour, and so he told the old Woman to fetch a bottle of the very best wine out of the cellar. When it was brought, the Soldier drew out the cork so that it made a great noise; and then going to the Huntsman he whispered to him, “Pay attention, my brother, and you shall see a grand wonder; I will now drink the health of the whole company!” So saying, he swung the bottle over the heads of the robbers, at the same time shouting out, “You shall all live, but with your mouths open and your right hands uplifted!” Scarcely were the words out of his mouth, than the robbers all sat motionless as if they were made of stone, their mouths open and their right arms stretched out. “I see,” said the Huntsman to the Soldier, “you can do any other trick you please; but, come now, let us go home.” “Oh no. Brother Thin-Shoes!” replied the Soldier, “that were too early to march away; we have beaten the enemy and now we must take the booty. Come now, eat and drink what you like.” So they stopped there three days, and every day the old Woman had to fetch up fresh wine. The fourth day the Soldier said to his companion, “It is time now to break the spell, but that we may have a short march the old Woman shall show us the nearest road.”

  As soon as they arrived at the town the Soldier went to his old comrades, and told them that he had found in the forest a nest of thieves, and if they wished he would show them where. They agreed to go, and the Soldier persuaded the Huntsman to accompany him again, and see how the robbers behaved when they were caught. So first he placed the soldiers round the robbers in a circle, and then drinking a draught of wine out of the bottle, he swung it over them and exclaimed, “You shall all live.” In a moment they had the power of motion again, but they were soon thrown down and bound hand and foot with ropes. Then they were thrown like sacks upon a waggon, and the Soldier bade his comrades drive it away to the prison. But the Huntsman, taking aside one of the soldiers, gave him a commission and sent him off to the town. They walked on, and by-and-by, as they approached the town, the Soldier perceived an immense crowd of men rushing out at the gates, hurraing lou
dly and waving green branches of trees in the air. Soon he saw that it was the body-guards of the King who were approaching them; and turning to the Huntsman he asked, “What does this mean?” “Do you not know,” he replied, “that the King has been absent from his kingdom for a length of time? To-day he returns and these are coming out to meet him.” “But where is the King? I do not see him,” said the Soldier. “Here he is,” answered the Huntsman; “I am the King, and I caused my return to be proclaimed.” With these words he opened his hunting-coat and showed his royal dress. The Soldier was frightened, and falling on his knees he begged the King’s pardon for having treated him so unceremoniously, and calling him by such names. The King, however, holding out his hand, said to him, “You are a brave Soldier, and have saved my life; you shall endure poverty no longer; I will care for you, and if at any time you need a piece of meat as good as we had in the robber house, come to my palace and dine with me. But before you drink healths, you must ask my permission.”

  The Golden Key

  One winter, when a deep snow was lying on the ground a poor Boy had to go out in a sledge to fetch wood. As soon as he had collected together a sufficient quantity, he thought that before he returned home he would make a fire to warm himself at, because his limbs were so frozen. So sweeping the snow away he made a clear space, and presently found a small gold key. As soon as he picked it up, he began to think that where there was a key there must also be a lock; and digging in the earth he found a small iron chest. “I hope the key will fit,” thought he to himself; “there are certainly great treasures in this box!” He looked all over it, but could not find any key-hole; till at last he did discover one, which was, however, so small, that it could scarcely be seen. He tried the key, and behold! it fitted exactly. Then he turned it once round, and now we must wait until he has quite unlocked it, and lifted the lid up, and then we shall learn what wonderful treasures were in the chest!

  Endnotes

  1 (p. 15) The Frog Prince: This is one of several “animal groom” stories, along with “Beauty and the Beast,” “Hans the Hedgehog,” and others, in which a young woman is forced to marry a beast of some kind, suggesting fear of the “beastly” desires of the groom, who becomes a more attractive figure after the wedding night experience of sexual awakening and love.

  2 (p. 56) Hansel and Grethel: This story features a wicked step mother, a character central to many tales, among them “Little Snow-White,” “Cinderella,” and “The Juniper Tree.” In earlier versions of “Hansel and Grethel” and of “Little Snow-White,” the biological mother is the one who abuses the child. The Grimms changed the mother to a stepmother to make her cruelty less shocking.

  3 (p. 78) The Valiant Little Tailor (Seven at One Blow): Tailors are the heroes of several stories, including this one, “The Two Wanderers,” and “The Presents of the Little Folk.” Tailors are clever and courageous despite their insignificant appearance, perhaps because of the speed and deftness required by their work.

  4 (p. 86) Cinderella: The Grimms’ version of this story is different from the now more familiar one by Charles Perrault featuring the fairy godmother and the pumpkin coach. The grotesquely vivid details of the Grimms’ tale have a crude power that contrasts sharply with Perrault’s elegant and charming fantasy.

  5 (p. 101) Little Red Riding Hood: This story, which appears in an earlier and different form in Charles Perrault’s Contes de ma meère l’oie (Mother Goose Tales), has attracted more commentary than any other. Many critics see it as a parable of sexual danger—its explicit meaning for Perrault. One critic associates the red hood (or cap) with those worn during the French Revolution; another asserts that the wolf is based upon the old belief in werewolves, and so on.

  6 (p. 160) The Feather Bird: This story, like “The Robber Bridegroom,” contains motifs—the murderous sorcerer/husband, the curious girls, the forbidden chamber—also found in “Blue-beard,” which the Grimms dropped after their first edition because it was too much like Perrault’s “La Barbe-bleue,” and perhaps also because it was thought too gruesome for children.

  7 (p. 192) Rumpelstiltskin: As Jack Zipes (see “For Further Reading”) and others have noted, the tales about spinning suggest the creative powers of women, who produce thread for fabric but also children, perhaps the fabric of life itself—like the Three Fates of Greek mythology, who spin, measure, and cut the thread of each life. Spinning rooms were places where tales themselves were spun by the women working there.

  8 (p. 198) The Juniper Tree: This story was written by the artist Philipp Otto Runge (1777-1810), presumably based on folk sources, and sent to the Grimms, who considered it one of the best in their collection. One theme in this rich story is food and eating: the apple, suggestive of Eden; the berries; the forbidden cannibalistic meal; and the celebratory dinner after the child’s resurrection. The evil stepmother also puts in an appearance.

  9 (p. 252) Allerleirauh (Many Furs): This tale, discussed in the Introduction, exposes the theme of incest present in disguised form in other stories, such as “The Handless Maiden.”

  10 (p. 346) The Jew Among Thorns: The Jewish character is represented here as grasping and dishonest, although these are actually the qualities of the other characters: The master gives his servant only three farthings for his service, and the servant in turn maliciously uses his fiddle to extort gold from the Jew. The treatment of Jews in the tales is discussed by Ruth Bottigheimer in Grimms’ Bad Girls and Bold Boys, in a chapter entitled “Work, Money, and Anti-Semitism” (see “For Further Reading”).

  11 (p. 378) The Idle Spinner: One of several tales about spinning (See also “Rumpelstiltskin” and “The Three Spinsters”), this story alludes in a humorous way to the supernatural overtones of the theme. The wife’s song evokes the Three Fates of Greek mythology, who spin, measure, and cut the thread of each life.

  12 (p. 385) Little One-Eye, Little Two-Eyes, and Little Three-Eyes: This story is one of the group related to “Cinderella,” which also includes “Allerleirauh” (“Many Furs”), “The Handless Maiden,” and “The Goose Girl.”

  13 (p. 414) Simeli Mountain: This tale contains elements familiar from The Thousand and One Nights, also known as The Arabian Nights, a collection from Arab, Indian, and Persian sources translated into French early in the eighteenth century by Antoine Galland.

  14 (p. 452) The Nix in the Pond: The female spirit who lures men to destruction in water is a familiar figure in literature—for example, the Lorelei and the Rhine Maidens of German legend and the Sirens of Homer’s Odyssey.

  15 (p. 470) The True Bride: The theme of false and true brides also appears in “Ferdinand the Faithful, and Ferdinand the Unfaithful,” “Jungfrau Maleen,” “The Goose Girl,” and rivalries of romantic love.

  Inspired by Grimm’s Fairy Tales

  Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm devoted their lives to the study of language, and their Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children’s and Household Stories) was the great philological and anthropological undertaking for which posterity would best remember them. By collecting and transcribing folktales handed down for centuries, the Grimms preserved and gave shape to the rich literary history of common people. These stories—of enchantment, danger, cruelty, punishment, reward—became and remain central to the canon of children’s literature. But the Grimms’ work also brought prominence to the study of folklore, prompting others to continue the pursuit. A Danish contemporary, Hans Christian Andersen, began to imitate the style of the brothers’ stories and produced such original fairy tales as “The Tinderbox,” “The Princess and the Pea,” “The Emperor’s New Clothes,” “The Little Mermaid,” and “The Ugly Duckling.”

  The Grimms—and, by extension, Andersen—popularized the fairy-tale form. Yet this storytelling mode is by no means new; it is, in fact, as fundamental to the human experience as language itself. From the moralizing fables of Aesop, to the tales of Alad din, Ali Baba, and Sinbad collected in The Arabian Nights, to the Mother Goose stories of seventeenth-century Frenc
h poet Charles Perrault, the fairy story enjoys a deep-seated and truly timeless appeal. Is it any wonder, then, that phrases like “once upon a time,” “they lived happily ever after,” and “someday my Prince will come” are embedded in our cultural vocabulary?

  Certain tales and characters have become deeply rooted in the Western consciousness through perpetual reprintings of Grimm’s Fairy Tales, the illustrations these books have generated, and the animated films of Walt Disney. (Many critics see the latter as sanitized retellings of the tales, yet they are perhaps the versions most Americans have known best since the late 1930s.) Some of the Grimms’ most famous are “Briar Rose,” the tale of Sleeping Beauty; “Cinderella”; “Hansel and Grethel”; “The Hare and the Hedgehog” (the Grimms’ version of Aesop’s fable “The Hare and the Tortoise”); “Little Red-Cap,” more commonly known as “Little Red Riding Hood”; “Rapunzel”; “Rumpelstiltskin”; “Little Snow-White”; and “Thumbling,” or “Tom Thumb.”

  Modern retellings of the Grimm stories abound, often intended for adults rather than children. Donald Barthelme’s first novel, Snow White (1967), endows the title character and her seven companions with libidos, along with postmodern despair and dread. The book features numerous references to “The Frog Prince” and other Grimm stories, and even an ironic pop quiz to ensure that readers understand the references. Feminist Angela Carter was particularly intrigued by fairy tales. Her short stories collected in The Bloody Chamber (1979) are all retellings of classic fairy stories, and her screenplay for Neil Jordan’s film The Company of Wolves (1984) is a vicious Freudian interpretation of “Little Red-Cap.” Sigmund Freud himself, ever on the lookout for a literary analogy to convey his psychoanalytic theories, made use of such Grimm tales as “The Twelve Brothers” and “The Six Swans” in his writings.