Nothing Endures But Change

One-Eye, Two-Eyes, and Three-Eyes - AT Type 511

This story is... a bit of an odd one. It's another tree story, because I enjoy running with a theme, and I'm learning a lot. In fact, it's not just another tree story (Green Willow was a tree story too, but I don't think it's anything like these). It's another "tree providing for a little girl when other people are cruel to her" story, which for some reason or another seems to really appeal to me. I think I'll conclude my current visitations on the subject with my favorite fairy tale ever tomorrow. For now, though, I'm writing about this one, because it helped me solve a particular problem I've been thinking about for some time.

I spend a lot of my time thinking about seemingly irreconcilable dichotomies of action or thought. One that has always provided me with a great deal of challenge has been the clash between stability and change. I'm a very mutable person. I'm prone to mood swings, have a very short attention span, and love novelty. I also crave stability. I like having a routine in my life, and forming long-lasting friendships, and repeating things often enough to get very good at them. How can I live with these two forces constantly at war with one another? I want to stick with things for a very long time, but I get bored or distracted or simply overwhelmed with everything else I could be doing.

I am happy to say that I've discovered a new solution today: find things that are a constant part of my life that are themselves constantly changing! How I discovered this was simple. Today I brought the girl I am babysitting to my studio (at her mother's request - she likes art), and we had some time to kill. I asked her if she wanted to try some painting or drawing, or visit other artists at work, but she seemed very interested in the way I decorate my studio. Right now there is thread and yarn stretched all across the ceiling and walls, and lots of things like tree branches and strings of beads and dried flowers hanging from it. She made the suggestion of separating one part of my studio from the other by hanging a bunch of bead strings together to make a curtain. It was a great idea, and we spent the rest of our time working on the project. It occurred to me that the space of my studio, and the sort of general space of "where I am" is kind of like this ever-changing but ever-constant reminder of who I am and the people I care about. The contents, layout, or even location of the space may be constantly changing, but it always reflects the people that matter to me, and keeps me grounded in a very stable reality.

The reason this reminded me of today's story was because of the presence of the old woman. She's a constant source of nourishment for the girl (sort of taking the place of the real mother in the "evil stepmother" stories like Juniper Tree and Magic Orange Tree), but that source of nourishment changes and moves with the girl. First she is given a goat, with magic that works just for her. When the goat dies (as all goats must, especially, it seems, when they're standing in for motherly love), its entrails are used to create a brand new magical tree that only provides food for Two-Eyes. And what's more, when Two-Eyes moves away, the tree moves with her! This brings me right back to the topic of my last entry, the constancy of love. And the funny thing is, even though they're full of fairy-magic happy endings, they're actually pretty relevant to real life if you know how to interpret them.

The Frog King or Iron Heinrich

Today's fairy tale is one that's been getting a bit of attention lately. The Grimm version can be read here (my translation did not change the names from German), and as a bonus includes the introduction after which I named this blog. As I have not yet seen the recent Disney adaptation, but hope to soon, this story may be revisited later. For now, I'd like to focus on a trait of the male protagonist that actually merits a comparison with my previous story, Cupid and Psyche. I noticed yesterday, but didn't choose to pursue at length, the fact that Cupid seems rather ashamed of his physical form. Perhaps shame isn't quite the right word, but he explicitly forbids Psyche from viewing him. Why, exactly? It's never really stated in the story. There's no magical reason, no spell that breaks or curse that activates upon her viewing him. It seems to be a matter of faith or trust. For all Psyche knows, her new husband could be the vile serpent she was told to expect, but Cupid's true form is of course quite beautiful and powerful. It would seem to behoove the god to reveal himself, but he never reals his true nature willingly.

This is also true of the Frog King, but the nature of his curse might reveal some clues as to the meaning of these silly men's behavior. Like Cupid, the frog king's true form is quite wonderful, but unlike Cupid the monarch's physical nature is quite dependent on the actions of his would-be bride. Without her touch, he is a hideous amphibian, but once she welcomes him (at her father's insistence!) into her bedroom, he becomes the charming man she must of course desire to wed. Both of these stories are most certainly about a maiden's acceptance of her betrothal to a strange man, but being myself a strange man, I am quite interested in what the narratives seem to be saying about men's bodies and our feelings towards them. The male protagonists could be seen as passive characters, meant merely to symbolize The Inevitable Husband or something like that, but maybe they're actually saying something to our about men, or boys who might want to become men someday. Both Cupid's and the Frog King's acceptance or realization of their own physical potential and beauty seems to be dependent on the actions of a woman. Neither is able to reveal his true nature until his beloved, willingly or otherwise, takes it upon herself to form a more intimate relationship between the two of them. Psyche, at her sisters' insistence, shines a light on her beloved, revealing his unexpected beauty, and the Youngest Princess, at her father's command, allows the frog up to her bedroom, transforming him from a wretched beast into a very eligible human bachelor. Perhaps these stories are about girls accepting their betrothal to strange men, but they also seem to suggest that their actions alone are capable of making their men a lot less strange. Take heart, young lads, there is a woman out there somewhere who can reign in that beastly form you find yourself inhabiting these days.