Folk Tales on Illnesses and Cures

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Folk Tales on Illnesses and Cures
Not really dying - A Tale

Folk Tales on Illnesses and Cures

If you want to understand about fairy tales and what they play upon, this page may serve you too.

Do people tell tales about illnesses?

In the twenty-two tales referred to below, healing and health remedies are vital to the action (or plot). So this is a thematic sample. All the tales are contained in Norwegian folklore, and described very briefly by Ørnulf Hodne [Tyno] in a fine book about what themes and variants we have among Norwegian folk tales. The brief descriptions below are a bit changed from his book, but the titles and classification numbers of the tales are there, so that you may find the tales that deal with illness with more ease, if you please. And comments to that have been added, to update the tales to recent developments and thinking.

Why do people tell tales about illnesses?

People tell each other about various illnesses naturally, after all. Illness tales can be of many sorts too. Handed-over tales of illness may be interesting to tell and listen to. In the old days they hardly had newspapers and TV and the Internet, you see. It is not out of the place to point it out.
The causes of illnesses have been surrounded by great lack of knowledge, and then people resorted to myths and superstitions out of fascination for the subject. And when people pondered on what caused this and that otherwise, they made up tales (ethiological tales) too, but that is another matter.
Earlier, illness could be serious, and people hardly knew how to handle them at all. Not even medical doctors, leeches. They padded their careers by bleeding people. That hardly made things better for patients. Only in recent times some causes were detected.

Semmelweiss

When the Hungarian-Austrian physician Ignaz Semmelweiss (1818-65) came to suspect that many of the women who died of childbed fever - the scourge of maternity hospitals throughout Europe - had been "infected" for it. He learnt that students who came directly from the dissecting room to the maternity ward carried the infection from mothers who had died of the disease to healthy mothers, and ordered the students to wash their hands well before each examination. It improved the mortality rate almost miraculously. He taught prevention of disease by hygiene.
However, "the establishment" meant he had better stop the nonsense about the chlorine hand wash, and humiliated him in many ways. They rejected his doctrine and the controversy undermined him til he got a breakdown and died from an infected wound in his right hand.
Only after Semmelweiss had died was he given due respect for his breakthrough findings. Today the mortality rates for women giving birth in hospitals have dropped from 20-30 percent of his days, and hence childbirth is not feared much any longer in most industrialised countries.
Sound medical knowledge is quite a newcomer!

How the Nobility Partied in France

There is a true story of a party in a French castle. While the powdered, unwashed and overdressed gentlemen and ladies were dancing along, the floor gave way and they drowned in the manure cellar beneath it. A tragic ending to the party.
Over-powdered, largely unwashed nobility from a time when France had risen into prominence - had holes in the corners of the room where they relieved themselves, and rot had been ignored, if ever detected. Pollution had not been taken into the wider world to reach a global scale.

The newcomers on the "scene": antibiotics

In old days and not very long ago, many died from a draught that turned into a cold that turned into pneumonia, for example. That is a good reason for the proverb, "The air of the window is as a stroke of a cross-bow" [Dp 120]. It warns against the dangers of draught from times when penicillin was not discovered by the Scottish bacteriologist Sir Alexander Fleming (1881-1955) - some might say by accident - and put to some use as late as in World War II. Antibiotics have saved the lives of many.

Fantasized Fun at Last

Old folk tales reflect the mystery and grotesque helplessness of people facing unexplainable and mortal diseases of many kinds. We still have some, and presupposed uncurable diseases too.
The tales that go into origins and cures smack of superstition and lack of plumbing into causes. Many of the kind of tales here were probably circulated by word of mouth first, and that is a rich source of changes in the tales. Tales changes as they are told and retold, eventually to conform to some obscure pattern, it may be added.
On the one hand people envisioned or fantasized about great cures and remedies because there was a great need, and fears (and superstitions) were very many. Even in Norse times (Viking times) people said that gods had wonderful objects, and some of them were for curing people. On the other hand Norse people and later generations could poke fun with serious things too, including illnesses and how people react to them, both as healers and patients.
Fun is fun where you find it. There are alternatives to soap programs on the TV. That's about it.

AT 50. The sick lion (Reven og den sjuke løva)

The lion, the king of the beasts, is mortally ill. The fox announces to the other animals that he knows what can cure the lion: it is the wolf's skin. The animals kill the wolf, and the fox is saved. (It is an Aesop's fable).

A "relative": Rheumatic people in our times have tried cat skins and other skins to reduce the pains too.

AT 311. The giant and the three sisters (Risen og dei tre søstrene)

Three sisters are bewitched one after the other by a troll who is eager to wed, when they are on an errand in the forest. He commands them not to enter a forbidden room. Two of the sisters disobey him and are slain. The third sister obeys the giant and continues to live in the cave. Here she discovers a magic ointment with which she brings her sisters back to life. Then she fools the troll into carrying them all home again, one after the other, in a sack/chest, which she frightens him off looking into. She leaves behind in the cave a dummy bride, and the troll bursts.

The supreme ointment brings dead folks back to life. This is a recurrent theme, and stems possibly from Norse myths, and descriptions of the goings in Valhalla.

AT 432. The prince as bird (Den grøne riddaren)

A princess has a secret lover ('the green knight'), who sends her a magic gift (a book, fan), which can bring him to her at any time. The wicked stepmother finds out, shuts her in, and wounds the lover severely. The maiden sets out to recover him, and on the way she overhears in a conversation how he may be healed. She follows the directions and heals him. The stepmother is punished with death.

The art of healing in not too remote centuries was also associated with witchcraft.

AT 461. Three hairs from the devil's beard (Rike Per Kremmar)

A rich man (Rich Per) is foretold that his daughter will marry a poor lad. He makes vain attempts to kill the youth and prevent the marriage. Finally the boy is promised the daughter in return for performing a dangerous and difficult task: Go to the world's end/hell and bring back three hairs from the devil's beard or three feathers from a dragon. On his way various questions are put to which the youth is asked to find the answers. He is helped to accomplish the tasks and returns with gold and silver. The envious rich man attempts to imitate the youth's exploits but he is compelled to relieve the ferryman in the other world, or is killed by the dragon.

One of the tasks the boy got, was to heal a princess so that she could talk again. A peculiar toad was the remedy for that condition.

AT 551. The sons on a quest for a wonderful remedy for their father (Ungdomslandet)

An old king has heard about the land/book of youth, and sends out his sons to find it. The two elder stop at an inn, the youngest is helped to the goal by a witch, whale, bird, horse, etc., and finds the elixir of life in a distant castle. On his way home he makes his old helpers young again. The brothers rob him and present themselves as true heroes. The swindle is cleared up when the princess in the land of youth arrives to marry the prince she has fallen in love with/to search for the father of her child.

The age-old wish not to get aged has formed its objects of desires - particular wells, water-sources - whatever. For example, for many centuries people looked for a fountain of youth in Florida. In Norse mythology the goddess Idun had wonderful healing apples.

AT 566. The three magic objects and the wonderful fruits (Underepla - Fortunatus)

A boy with magic objects he has obtained/inherited (a self-filling purse, wishing hat, horn that furnishes soldiers) wishes himself a princess/ proposes to her. She steals the objects from him and disappears. He finds and eats an apple that causes horns to grow on his head, or gives him a long nose. Later he finds another that removes them. He returns to the court and succeeds in causing the princess to eat the first apple. In payment for curing her he receives back the magic objects.

Some plants are for healing, others work in the opposite direction. Expert knowledge of these things is a great boon.

AT 590. The prince and the arm bands (Det blå båndet)

A boy travelling with his mother stays with an ogre, or a prince and his sister fleeing from their father, who will compel them to incest, come to a den of robbers. The mother/princess conspires against the boy and tries to kill him. The mother feigns sickness and sends him on a quest for medicine: lion's milk and magic apples. Instead of killing him, the lions become his true servants, and by means of them and a blue band (belt) which gives him supernatural strength, he overcomes his enemies and wins a princess.

One may wonder if cat's milk will do the trick just as well (but don't try it at home). "Little, but good," said the wife, she milked her cat (Lite, men godt," sa kona, ho mjølka katten sin). (Norwegian proverb). Magic apples occur in Celtic myths (and other) myths too.

AT 611. The gifts of the dwarf (Tobakksguten)

A poor boy is adopted by a rich merchant, but is sent to sea when he falls in love with the merchant's daughter. In a foreign country he is rewarded with magic objects by trolls. He heals a sick princess and returns home as a rich man and marries his first love.

The healed princess helps her healer. The troll hag hardly ever does.

AT 613. The two travellers (Tru og Utru)

The one of two travellers (brothers) blinds the other in a quarrel, and leaves him alone. The blinded one puts up for the night in a tree and overhears a meeting of animals, and learns valuable secrets. By means of the secrets he restores his sight and performs many difficult tasks (cures a sick princess etc.), and becomes a rich and mighty man. The false companion attempts in the same way to try his luck, but fails.

Cures for blindness have been eagerly sought throughout history. Prevention of many sorts of blindness is of course far better.

AT 660. The three doctors (Dei tre doktorane)

Three doctors can remove a part of their body (eye, hand, gut) and replace it without injury the next morning. One night these parts are eaten by an animal and replaced with a cat's eye, a hog's gut (heart), and a thief's hand. The doctors acquire the corresponding peculiarities.

Now as then, specialists need to take extra care so that their skills are not thwarted and made fun of by common people.

AT 709. Snow-white (Snofri)

A childless queen gives birth to a daughter, but dies, and the evil stepmother wants to kill her, because the girl is more beautiful than she is. 'Snow-white' escapes and is adopted by some dwarfs/robbers living in a cabin in the forest. A magic mirror tells the stepmother that 'Snow-white' lives, and she seeks to kill her by means of poisoned gifts (comb, apple etc.). The dwarfs succeed in reviving her from the first two poisonings, but fail the third time, and lay her in a glass coffin. A prince sees her and resuscitates her. They are married, and the stepmother is killed.

Many poisons can be hard to detect and cure today as well.

AT 753. Christ and the smith (Meistersmeden)

Christ takes off a horse's foot in order to shoe him, and rejuvenates an old woman in the smith's forge. A master smith tries disastrously to do the same.

What surgery accomplishes today in many cases, belong to the domain of miracles and stories in earlier times.

AT-. Jesus cures his friend

Jesus is accused of having hurt a friend while playing. Jesus cures the boy on condition that he tells him who the guilty person is.

In many religious tales God and apostles do the healing.

AT 924. Discussion by sign language (Prosten og kolbrennaren)

A dean uses sign language to test the theological knowledge of an unlearned priest (a charcoal burner), and is convinced of his qualifications.

The tales makes fun of "academic and religious-ceremonial soap" of former times.

AT 1135. Eye-remedy (Blinde trollet)

The man says he can cast new eyes for the ogre. He blinds him with boiling lead.

Alas, there are risks involved in laser surgery of the eyes too, but the risk is not great.

AT 1137. The ogre blinded (Trollet blir blinda - Polyphemus)

The ogre gets something in his eye, and the man says he can cure it. He melts lead and pours it into the ogre's eyes.

Not all who say they are experts are good people. Not all who claim to be helpers, mean to help.

AT 1462*. Clean and tidy (Sju års gammal graut)

A suitor, who wants a cleanly wife, asks for seven-year-old porridge to use as medicine for a fictitious swollen finger. He gets a positive answer and departs.

The tale plays on and is fed by the common need to find suitable, effective life partners. To get stuck in matrimony with a bad one, was thought to be ill-fated (and is probably still). It could be a matter of life and death formerly. The medicine is a "decoy" in this tale.

AT 1641. Doctor Know-all (Kolbrennaren)

A poor man/charcoal burner professes to be a parson/prophet. Unintentionally he detects some thieves in the king's castle ('That is the first one (second, third')), gains a prophetic reputation in the church, and confirms his 'supernatural' powers by 'seeing' a crab in the king's mug ('Ah, poor crab that I am.'), and by prognosticating the queen's twins.

This tale reveals the gains that can be got by academic credentials (formal qualifications), and that the need to diagnose unborn babies is nothing new. The charcoal burner became rich and famous by his academic-religions facade and tricks.

AT 1843. Parson visits the dying (Den døyande skomakarkjerringa)

A shoemaker fetches a parson for his dying wife. The parson confuses the wafer with a patch of leather and the wine with a bottle of powder The powder explodes and strikes senseless the parson and the shoemaker. The woman believes it is the devil leaving her body in a hurry and she revives.

As long as it cures the dying patient, there should be something of value in it -

AT 1845. The student as healer (Ein heldig kur)

A clergyman/doctor teaches another to practise medical art according to a magic formula. Later the clergyman feels that his throat is sore, and 'the magician' is going to cure him in the same way. Then the patient laughs so much that the boil bursts or the fishbone loosens.

Most people in former centuries were superstitions and believed in magic, including Cyprianus. Often, humorous tales is deeply linked to or takes the edge of some fear.

AT-. The cat's eye

A skipper has had one eye knocked out by a flying fish and replaced by a cat's eye. When he goes to sleep, the cat's eye is always open, watching for mice.

A moral: Mismatches fail, at times in unforeseen ways.

AT-. The quack

A quack 'cures' a sick farmer's wife in return for a cheese. Afterwards he brushes aside her enraged husband by saying that it could not occur to him to claim two cheeses for such a labour on one and the same farm.

Where there is profit in healing, quacks may enter the scene too, unless hindered. Laws help against bad healers and doctors, in fact.

Further Comments

The outlook of the comments above is pragmatic, that is, we relate to tales from a practical angle. It is possible to interpret fairy tales from many angles. Here is more from what we mean by 'pragmatic':

'Pragmatic' stems from the Greek pragma, fact, activity, cause, and is related to do and act. What is pragmatic builds on knowledge and sticks to the matters at hand and to facts, and is substantial-practical in its main orientations. (Cf. Caplex, s.v. "pragmatisk"). 'Pragmatic' suggests a preponderance on attaining practical results, finding practical, usable, tenable solutions etc. There are strivings to account for causes and effects of happenings, and to learn lessons fit for the future.

Einstein on Fairy Tales

A concerned mother once visited Albert Einstein to get his counsel on how to help her son become really good in maths. Exactly what was she to read for him to help him evolve into a prominent scientist?
"Folk tales," said Einstein.
"Okay," said the mother, "and after that?"
"More folk tales," said Einstein.
"And after that?" the mother asked again.
"Still more folk tales," answered Einstein. [Evo 11; also in Brms]

MENTIONS: If recited and written fairy tales cultivate the building of inner images (imagery), it can assist mental development in time. It comes by stages, says the Swiss Jean Piaget. In short, it may be very good for childen to imbibe fairy tales that suit their ages or "fancy levels", as long as they don't get tense or very scared.
Many fairy tales tell of (indicate) a "way out", that is, ways of behaving or conducting oneself to gain favours and profit greatly. There is a chance that many of those ways are obsolete now. How many princesses are there to marry, for example? A way around that problem is to interpret the princess - to think the princess in the tale is a good girl. The proverb "My home is my castle" indicate the same idea.
And in Transactional Analysis (TA) from Dr. Eric Berne a princess is a nice girl too, a "good Child" that is sane, for most part. [Bob; Hom]

Not Really Dying (A Tale)

What ill luck to be a mom-taught jerk. What can I do?

THERE WAS ONCE a little child, and he could hardly learn. It was not his fault. Often he stood by the knee of his mother, and she said for him the names of the days, the seasons of the year, and told him how to call the sun and the moon and the stars. She gave him to know that the wheat was sown in one time, and reaped in another; that there were seven degrees of folks and seven colours to be distributed. Several other things the mother taught him. The child listened well but forgot.
   His mom wailed for herself, "Ill-luck is on me, that I am the mother of a jerk!" Then the child used to steal away to the dim, green orchard and weep inside.
   After a time, the mother gave up trying. The boy then took the lowest place at table. Soon he became the lad held in least respect by men-servants and maids in his home town.
   One day it happened that there was a wise woman in the place, and she tried to heal a sick cow by natural remedies. She saw the boy, his fair head hanging, and shame. "What is wrong with this fair-headed lad?" said she.
   "The head," answered the mother.
   The wise woman muttered, "Go and get him the good bladders that knows", she said.
   "I have heard of them," said the mother, "but they're beyond my reach, too hard to get." The brothers and the sister of the child that could not learn stood round about and were instructed.
   "The bladders that knows, grow on the bladder wrack that knows, over a hidden well in the sea," said the hag. "If you really desire wisdom for your boy, good woman, you must send someone to bring him the bladders."
   The second son, Earl, flung back his hair, full of courage.
   "Let me be going," said he.
   The wise woman fingered her long lip.
   "If you would go, go very quickly," she said. "It is nearly Midsummer Eve, the magic night. Between the rising and the setting of the moon that night, the Irish sea can open like a window pane of glass to let through any person who seeks to find air underneath. Is this okay with you, my son?"
   "It should be," said the lad.
   "Stuff and rubbish- okay, then," said the mother
   The wise woman went on, "He must bid farewell and go in his linens. When the gates of glass are shut behind him, he must tarry in the sea till the bladders on the bladder wrack ripen to deep brownish red late- it may never happen. And when autumn finally comes, he has to draw near the magic well of and wait for the dropping of the bladders. He must be swift to stretch the hand and snatch them as they drop. For the salmon that knows can be is waiting in the Well, to eat the fruit as it falls. In that hour, a rosy surge rises on the water, and the salmon eats and swims away, swimming all the seas of the round, turning world. The inner salmon could have a knowledge of nearly everything that goes on over-seas, even under-seas and in hidden places. But if this youth let the bladders slip through his fingers, he shall be in their might under the sea."
   "My fingers seem able to catch and hold," said Earl.
   The wise woman went away to the hills then, after curing the ailing cow.
   Then Midsummer's Eve of frolic and slapstick magic came. The lad said farewell and went out alone under the moon. He came to the magic shore and saw the water as gates of glass. He jumped in and swam neatly along one crystal roadway till he came to the deep somewhere. He had never been there before.
   The grass was terribly green on the other side, the sea wrack seemed like bowers of blossom. A radiant mist was on the underwater hills and cliffs he eyed. The sea was thick with flowers and witty whales. But there was not plain sunlight. He missed it, and fresh air even more. "Therefore this is hardly a better country than my mother's country," he gasped.
   As luck would have it, at that moment he came to a ship-wreck full of tiny oxygen tanks. Sometimes things come easy, most often not. He learnt to mount a little flask on him and then he learnt to walk about and wait for the bladder wrack to turn ripe. It happens only in fairy tales.
   One morning he saw a shining pebbly way, and swimming and walking along it he came to a underwater house. Every plank of the wall was of a different colour.
   Dolphins were passing to and fro about this fair house. They looked bald but fair, not with the hue of primroses nor with blushing, rosy foxgloves on every cheek. They came in a shining troop to meet Earl and impressed him as mental telepaths, "A hundred welcomes to you!' they seemed to say. Maybe there was something wrong with his oxygen bottle, maybe not.
   The lad saluted. The warm dolphins brought him within the palace. The time went pleasantly with mirth and whale song. Soon the lad inquired where the magic well could be in sea."
   "You'll see," said one golden dolphin. "More than a day's journey from this spot." He was the owner of underwater castle. On the red dawn of the morrow, the lad left. They gave him a fair-woven napkin for a parting-gift.
   "When you get thirsty in water, spread this napkin in the sea in front of your mouth, and breathe in. It should produce air if you turn it this way, and sweet water if you turn it the other way. Both in a thrice. As for food, eat seaweed. [1]"
   The lad thanked. 'It is a great country you folks reign, after all" he said. The noble whales were pleased, "You never were in its like before, boy."
   Earl, felt he could not escape boasting of his home land, "I've seen more in my father's country over water.
   The whales were watching him as he hurried on. "What? Did he give a fee-fo-fum lie in return for our hospitality?" they asked one to another. "Well, let it be. He is not in our power now.
   The boy followed his underwater route in search of red bladder wrack. He was travelling a lot now, and he came to the shore of the sea. The sand was in grains of gold. He climbed out of the water and sat down among sweet-smelling flowers, slaughtered a hare and cooked it for supper, adding kelp to add a little salt, and then looked about to find a place to rest.
   He saw a smiling, little woman coming towards him, and greeted her.
   "Welcome, boy, hello, Earl," said she to him. He wondered how she knew his name. He came to realise she had to be a witch in hunt for prey, to explain it away. She led him to a ruin among the rocks. It was finer and better than the first house he had been in among whales, if that were possible. Every mini-person had a star on the forehead. "This is the house for storms and hurricanes that may wreck ships and drown even fishes," said the woman.
   The boy remained there, and the folks of the house gave him a cloak, no bigger than would go over the lad's shoulders.
   "When you are in want of a shelter and need a tent, hang this nice cloak on a twig."
   He thanked and said, "What more can you do? I'm in such a hurry."
   The little ones laughed. They were pleased. But alas, then the boy had to boast of the big ones in his homeland, boast once again. The laughed. But now their laughter was like the whistle of the wind that bids the storm begin.
   "A boast he has instead of thanks," said they. "Let it still be. We can bear up with our lot."
   Earl managed to climb back into the Irish Sea and go on living, thanks to the napkin the whales had given him- or was it the battery of oxygen bottles, after all? I don't recall. But one thing is sure, and that is that he lived for a long time in the deep Atlantic Ocean while the meadows ripened in his father's country, and maids tossed the hay, with mouths red like cherries. [2] The apple reddened, the vegetables could be taken indoors and stored.
   Down in the sea the youth was walking to and fro, seeking his well till he came upon it. He saw bladders on a bladder wrack turn crimson, all at once. And its bladder-cluster drooped over the secret well.
   "Now my journey is halfway over," said Earl. Maybe he was right, maybe wrong. It has to be found out. He took a rest. All the day he slept. But right before the midnight he awoke, for he seemed to hear his young sister yell, "Haste, haste, haste!"
   He plunged to the well and found it is shining with the magic cluster swaying in front.
   "It's my time," said saw.
   He stood beside the water, and there at last was the shimmering salmon, with upturned eyes. But all of a sudden the cloak started to cry; it was the most terrible wailing and crying he had ever heard. It reminded him of his mother at a certain time, so he turned his head to see if she was there. It was a mistake. Then he heard a splash in the water of insider's well. The crying ceased and turned into a high, wild cry of laughter. All of a sudden the waters of the well began to rise, and there was no cluster left, but a fruitless bladder wrack bough.
   "Ill-luck is upon me!" said our boy.
   The water sank, and the salmon that knows swam out, into the seas as only he could. The boy sat down by the brink. He fell into a stupor in the mud, maybe it was just like a death itself. One sour whale knocked a grey flagstone over him. Love had left him by the well.
   November eve came and went, and he never woke up underneath the boulder. Yes, mighty mishap has befallen.
   At home his brother wept for him, and his sister too. He had been too long. It was alarming to his dear mom back home.
   But deep inside he had a sort of dream. I think it was a helpful vision where a golden light said to himself, "Bad is it, our house is full of weeping and misery, and mom is too fond of her ego image to be well if I don't get out of this deep trick.
   In a strange country, no stranger has to be without supper," the sunlight added. It was fun.
   Now Earl opened his eyes, looked up and down and saw only boulder. But is was not as big and heavy as he thought. He even pushed it off himself.
   A year had now passed. It was night-fall, he had been sleeping much, but felt he would thrive better out of the sea, no matter if the deep Atlantic mud must have many good sides to it, and a water bed also. Too much of a good thing is a bad thing. he missed his snug bed.
   "Bland shelter is a good thing, and so is reciting of hero-tales, good harping and spinning, even royal banquets," he concluded, heavy with sleep. He let his head nod and fall, and snored. The night was bewitched!
   But here the boulder and the mud helped him- murky things, mean to look at. It is often like that.
   The witching tiny people understood from afar, "Now it is not in our power to harm him," they were saying and asked no questions. He could now be woken up, if someone close to him called in a helping manner. Midnight drew near.
   He heard in his sleep his sister yell terribly, "Haste, haste!" He rose and found the magic well open once again.. The crimson bladder wrack cluster was intact. He stretched his hand, and his eye caught the whitish gleam of the salmon that knows. All of a sudden a strong water current from nowhere pushed much bladder wrack into his face and hit his eyes. He heard the salmon ate the bladders, and now he fell into another deep-water trance.
   He dropped down, and the next you know is that a sour dolphin pushed his grey flag-stone over him once again and left him. His sister could dream it happened, also. Some people have such gifts.
   "I saw him in my dream," said the girl. "I saw him, and he was in a deep underwater sleep, a yogi trance it was. What will I be doing now? I have to wait till next Midsummer's Eve, and then let me yell once and for all.
   The much selfish mother patted her for that, and one more year humped along as best it could.
   "I will go to my rest early tonight," said the girl, as soon as next Midsummer's Eve came. They did not know what she had in mind to do. She went into her inside and found the resonant wavelengths of her brother by thinking well of him for once-
   "A hundred welcomes to you!" he suddenly said from his deep bed and got up under water, once again. There could be no next time. He could feel the oxygen bottles were nearly used up, and the one close to him was leaking- He could note how his sister must fight for his life by mental communication under the water. He rose up and asked the dolphin that had guarded him and was close to him. "Is there anything I can do now?" he asked blandly.
   "Teach man to speak truth," said the swimming beast. "You won't fall down much, if so. This could be the hardest task for many a courageous man and woman. [3]

A nice face and figure could be a maiden's ruin or a family's burden-
A well-spoken maiden has been taught fine manners, it most often pays very well.
It behoves us to teach extra fit matters or manners out from our inner hearts, one deep sea well-
that trout to be had by fit boldness free from ruin.
If you must die without dying, apt mirth overruns the white light, brighter than gold.

He came to himself. At last the Midsummer's Eve's magic spell fell. All went into a strange silence. Soon the moon rose, round as a thief beneath his cloak on a warpath. Earl seemed to hear faint voices crying, voices of his near ones once again. They were reminded of him.
The magic moment had arrived. He walked to the brink of the sea well, the hour was at hand. Midnight must have come, he watched the swaying of the bough, and the magic, now crimson cluster of bladder wrack.

He saw the salmon wave- it was waiting with upturned eyes.
The wrack stalk snapped, the ruby-red bladders rubies came floating down towards the bottom.
The magic cluster never reached the salmon's mouth this time.
His fingers seized it
The moment the bladders were in his hand they burnt and he knew a lot more.

He climbed out of the water and said to the next farmer he met,

"Listen well, for the flag-stone over me was "dear comrade" lost inside.
A lie to all right people means one more furrow on their brows, maybe.
Before you is one sour climber that survived, one more British jivanmukti (free spirit) along the transgressing war path [4], you see, and it may implant similar wave patterns into my next of kin.
Indians shall bray my freedom vibes can accompany my future relatives for up to twelve generations.
Believe as much as you can here, otherwise next to nothing. I'm the new Buddha [5] around here. The more you sleep, the more you wake up from."

Much came into their proper perspectives or right shapes. Fun itself embraced him, and laughed and cried.
In the end he went back to his homestead and great was the welcome: The brother that could not learn, resonance-ate the ruby-red, dried bladders and got many useful trace minerals from it. Things went so well that from that day on he thought he knew it all, thanks to bladder cakes rich in proteins and trace minerals. Such know-alls can easily bore others.
The brother that risked all to help others dear to him, the water let him in on secrets, at other times the rustle and many other things. He surely was given good gifts.

King Dag Revenging a Sparrow

Be brutal enough to make it on the surface only.

KING Dag was so wise a man that he understood the language of birds. He had a sparrow which told him much news, and flew to different countries.
Once the sparrow flew to Reidgotaland, to a farm called Varva, where he flew into the peasant's corn-field and took his grain. The peasant came up, took a stone, and killed the sparrow.
King Dag was ill-pleased that the sparrow did not come home; and when he inquired after the sparrow, he got the answer that it was killed at Varva. On this he ordered a great army, and went to Gotland; and when he came to Varva he landed with his men and plundered, and the people fled away before him.
King Dag returned in the evening to his ships after having killed many people and taken many prisoners. As they were going across a river somewhere there, a labouring thrall came running to the river-side, and threw a hay-fork into their troop. It struck the king on the head, so that he fell instantly from his horse and died.

Mighty Dag wasted Varva, and his life was wasted too - by a hay-fork, even.

Adapted from the Chronicles of the Kings of Norway, book 1, section 21. [LINK]

Literature
Agha: Ashliman, D. A Guide to Folktales in the English Language. New York: Greenwood, 1987.
Bob: James, Muriel, and Dorothy Jongeward. Born to Win: Transactional Analysis with Gestalt Experiments. Reading, Mass: Addison-Wesley, 1971.
Brms: Zipes, Jack. Breaking the magic spell. Reprint. New York: Routledge, 1992.
Ebu: Encyclopaedia Britannica. Encyclopaedia Britannica 2007 Ultimate Reference Suite DVD. London: Encyclopaedia Britannica, 2007.
Evo: Lindø, Rigmor. Eventyrskolen. Oslo: Cappelen, 1988.
Hom: Berne, Eric. What Do You Say After You Say Hello? The Psychology of Human Destiny. New York: Bantam, 1973.
Tyno: Hodne, Ørnulf. The Types of the Norwegian Folktale. Bergen: Universitetsforlaget, 1984. Ttf: Aarne, Antti. The Types of the Folktale: A Classification and Bibliography. Translated and Enlarged by Stith Thompson. 2nd rev. ed. Helsinki: Suomalainen Tiedeakatemia / FF Communications, 1961.

Notes

[1] The Japanese often do and live longer for it. However, there may be other reasons as well.
[2] Compare the French cherie, mostly for the fun of it.
[3] See how the great, thought of Fall started in Genesis of the bible.
[4] Zen artistry could be fit for that. Divination as well.
[5] Buddha means "awakened one." In Tantra-grounded Tibetan Buddhism it can stand for a found state of deep inner (or transcendent) insight. I think it is fit to use it rather loosely.
[6] See Sturlason, Snorre: Noregs kongesoger. Bokklubben. Stabekk, 1982:25. These fairy tale forerunners contain slapstics and a lot more that many children hold dear. The sagas of Viking kings and similar "trolls" abound in good stories, and many contain fable-near wisdom or good lessons that maybe cannot be had in other regions, or lessons not easily found nowadays.
[7] The "Not dying" is a tall tale that is rooted in the Irish fairy tale "Country-Under-Wave", found in McGarry, Mary, compiler: Great Fairy Tales of Ireland. Muller, Blond & White. London, 1979:63-76.

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