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Mom's Illustrated Folktales
Esther with Vase, by a family friend
The Ideler family took vacations with other artist families. They would paint each other as well as the scenery. This pensive portrait shows Mom at about the age she was when she made these illustrations. She's holding a vase she'd painted in the Italian folk fashion. I have a number of these vases, with whimsical glazes depicting shepherds and shepherdesses sighing for each other. The one she's holding has something like a lion on it. When she sold her grand piano and bought a ticket to emigrate to the US, she packed up a container of stuff to be shipped later. What she selected for her new start was artwork; her own, her sister's, and her parents'.
I asked Mom about the gloomy nature of the folktales she chose to illustrate. "Well," she said, "Look at the dates. It was wartime, or just after, and I'd lost so many friends and relatives, and the boy I loved so much, and my brother, and when you are starving you tend to get depressed even without something to grieve about. And folktales? People are not interested in the happy stuff, that is boring to write about. It is the lost chances that are so very interesting to us." She said something more or less like that.
The Three Tokens of Love
This is a folktale from Southern Germany, where I was living as a refugee. It was collected by Waggerl, I think.
This story takes place in the heat of summer when the red roses bloom in doorways and the air is soft and scented. Here is the tinker Hansl, a jolly fellow who always has a good word for everybody. He whistles and sings as he plies his trade, and the young women of the village sigh for him. He sells them maybe a few more pots than they really need, he has such charming ways.
And at last, he becomes betrothed to Rose, as lovely and fresh as her name. They are to marry in a few weeks, as soon as he can put together a bit of a nest egg. And so, he decides to go a-wandering to sell his accumulated pots and pans at markets in the nearby villages.
But Rose sees how he makes his sales, with his flirting ways. And so she gives Hansl three tokens to remind him of their love: her blood-red hair ribbon, a little pewter ring, and her knife.
Off he goes with a cheery wave, whistling, with the pots clanking on his stick. The next village is about eight or ten miles away, and so after a leisurely day's stroll, he arrives at the market. And there he is very successful. All the pretty village girls come around him and he laughs and jokes and is quite charming, and he sells a third of his pots. All the girls chatter around him and make eyes at him.
Night falls and he wanders a little ways out of town. There he finds a flower-strewn field, eats his cheese and bread, and gets ready to settle down to sleep under the stars. And in the dark, a young woman comes, and says, "Oh, you must be so lonely. How about some companionship?"
Without hesitation, he says, "Okay!"She has to leave before daylight. But as a thank-you for her services, he gives her a ribbon, red as blood.
The next day, when the first rays of the sun kiss his face, Hansl jumps up and is ready to get going. Off he goes to the next village. And there it goes just like the previous day. He is able to sell half his remaining pots to the lovely women of that village. And that night, lo and behold, a young woman comes to the meadow where he is sleeping and he invites her to spend some time with him. Before dawn, she has to go and he gives her a little pewter ring.
The third day is a great one for him. He gets up feeling wonderful, and he walks to the next village with his remaining pots, and is able to sell all of them. And once again, a young woman comes to him at night. But this one is weeping. What is wrong? There is bad news from home, she says to him. He must return to his home village with the first light of dawn. Just as the sky begins to lighten, and she has to leave, he gives her a sharp little knife for her services. Still weeping, she leaves.
Hansl is worried. He doesn't whistle this time, but sets off for home at once. The closer he gets, the more worried he is. And then he arrives, and what does he find? His own Rose, lying in her bed with the sharp little knife sticking out from her heart. On her finger is the little pewter ring, and in her hair is a ribbon red as blood.
The Adventurous Young Man
I can't remember what this is an illustration of. It was a poem of a man who went off on adventures. I think he joined the pirates and then had regrets.
The Girl at the Pool
You know, when a man has adventures, it can be just a few minutes of loving and then he moves on. But for the woman it's often a terrible thing they're left with. This one was a poem. The apples are getting ripe and she thinks she's pregnant. She gazes into the water and wonders if she should make an end to herself.
The Stone Heart
The Stone Heart
In this poem, the young woman is devastated because her young man tells her good-bye. He is going out into the world to seek his fortune.
She is heartbroken, and goes to the old neighbor lady. "My heart is so heavy! What do I do? Help me!"
And the old lady says, "Find a stone."
And she goes and finds a stone, and the old lady says, "That stone is your heart. Bury it under a tree so the roots may hold on to it."
So she finds a sapling and buries her stone heart under it. One day, the young man returns from his adventures and wants to rekindle their old love. He stands under the tree and says, "Look at this beautiful tree, it's in full bloom."
But he finds her so cold-hearted! The old tenderness is not there anymore. She tries to retrieve her stone heart from under the tree, but the roots have grown around it and she cannot dig it up.
Finally, he goes off again. On his way, he cuts a walking stick from the tree. But the tree bleeds as though it were human. He rushes back to where he left her, and there she lies dead, pale and stone cold.
Creation
This was my first attempt at writing and illustrating a translation, when I was beginning to think it would be possible to emigrate to America. God creates light, and angels sweep away the darknes. They don't do a very good job because they have not yet learned how to work. A little bit of darkness is left, and that's your shadow.
And here, God makes the mountains. The angels have to learn that they are supposed to go with the flat side down.
God is creating the animals now.
Copper Etchings
Here are some etchings of legends and poems. (NOT. Pictures aren't ready on Sept 5, sorry)
A giant knight summons a man to go inside a mountain. He has to bring provisions to the heroes who are sleeping there.
A plowboy goes to get lunch for his best girl during haying time. When he returns, she is asleep. A mouse runs out of her mouth and goes inside the mountain. She tells him that she saw her ancestors in there.
A notice:
Civilized feedback
is welcome: julia@queenjulia.org.
All material on this site is copyrighted 2004 to me or to my mother. If you wish to use small snippets, you are welcome as long as you give proper credit. If you wish to use larger parts, let's talk.
