Here is my first folk tale re-telling. You can read my introduction to these here. This comes from a Japanese folk tale called The Mirror of Matsuyama. I have changed the setting from Japan to the American west, but have left most of it the same. You can read the original story here. So, without further delay, here is my version:
The Mirror
A thin beam of light from the setting sun shone through the crack in the door, climbed up the wooden table in the center of the room, and ran down the other side before dying out next to a woman sitting in a rocking chair, knitting. Her daughter played on the wooden floor next to her with a rag doll, its left eye hanging by a thread.
The door swung open and a tall man walked in. His eyes were tired and his clothes ragged. The little girl jumped up, leaving her doll on the floor where she was playing, and ran to her father. She jumped in his arms and the father let out an audible groan at the extra weight, but he still grabbed the girl and tossed her into the air as if she were a doll.
“I have news,” the man said as he set his daughter down. “Word is that prices are up. I need to go to town tomorrow with some of the harvest now before they go back down again. I’ll be leaving first thing in the morning.”
“Can I come?” the daughter asked, looking up at her father.
The man bent down.
“No, darling, you must stay. But if you’re a good girl, and look after your mother, I’ll bring you a surprise.”
***
The sun stood a perfect sphere, high in the pale blue sky. A gentle breeze blew through the small girl’s hair as she did cartwheels near the small log cabin. She fell and lay in the warm grass looking up at the sky. She heard her mother's footsteps rush from inside the cabin and out onto the porch and looked up to see her father emerge over the hill driving the horse carriage. When he spotted his family he waved.
The dust settled and the man jumped down from the carriage to be greeted by his wife and daughter.
“What did you bring me?” his daughter shrieked in excitement.
“It’s nice to see you too,” the man said with a laugh. He kissed his wife and then reached into the back of the carriage.
He pulled out a wicker basket and set it on the ground. The little girl clasped her hands and jumped up and down in excitement. He reached into the basket and held his hand there for just a moment until he thought his daughter would burst and then pulled out a brand new doll, with shiny button eyes and a clean checkered dress, and a small tin with candies. His daughter held her new treasures in her hands and then gave her father a hug. Her father then pulled out another gift.
“This one is for your mother,” he said, and handed a beautiful metal mirror to his wife. The back of the mirror had a painting of a horse grazing next to a pond.
She held the mirror up and was startled to see the woman looking back at her, at first thinking it to be someone else, and then chuckling to herself at the idea. Being far from town and not having much money, the woman had never owned a mirror and had never seen such a clear reflection of herself before. She remembered looking into a pond when she was a girl and seeing her blonde curls spill around her face, but this was entirely different. She smiled as she looked into the mirror just as the wind blew her hair and her husband and daughter shared a look both knowing the image in the mirror must be the most beautiful site a person could behold.
“I love it,” his wife said. “It’s perfect.”
***
The moon shone cold through the window on the woman lying in bed. Every blanket in the house was piled on the bed and her husband sat next to her, holding a cool wet cloth to her forehead. The woman coughed until she couldn’t breathe. Her daughter sat across the room clutching her doll. She was terrified and couldn’t sleep.
After this last coughing fit the woman lay back and looked almost peaceful. Her skin was a pale white and appeared more so in the soft light of the full moon. She looked up and motioned for her daughter to come close.
Slowly, the little girl walked to her mother.
“Dearest,” the mother began in a soft whisper, “I am leaving soon and I will not be back. But this does not mean that I will not always love you and always be with you. You are my treasure and have filled my life with joy. Please take care of your father. You will miss me, but when you are lonely, look into my mirror and I will be with you.”
The mother took the mirror from next to the bed and handed it to the little girl. The metal was cold in her hands and she held it to her chest, still looking into her mother’s face. Slowly, her mother lay back, closed her eyes, and became still.
***
“Wake up!” the woman snapped. “I need your help in the kitchen, you have slept long enough. When I was your age this kind of sloth would not have been tolerated!”
The little girl rubbed sleep from her eyes and saw her step-mother standing over her. It was cold and the girl could hear the rain outside.
“I’m not going to tell you again,” the woman said as she turned back to her chores.
The little girl rose and slowly dressed. She stood for a long while looking at the mirror her mother had given her. She smiled and reached for it, but was jolted back into the present to another call from her step-mother.
Often over the past 3 years since her mother had died, and especially the past year since her father had re-married, the little girl would take the mirror somewhere quiet. She would sit in the corner between her bed and the wall, or take it out to the big oak tree outside, and would stare into the mirror. Whenever she did, she saw her mother’s face, not pale and sick as it was at the end, but beautiful and full of life.
The girl couldn’t bear the thought of another morning of chores, and grabbed the mirror and sat between the wall and her bed. Impatient that she had not come to the kitchen, the woman walked back to the girl and saw her looking at the mirror and grinning.
Surely she is up to some sort of devilry, the woman thought. She must be plotting all manner of terrible things. That must be some instrument of the devil she’s got. Well, I won’t stand for it.
The woman hurried out of the cabin and found her husband working in the field. She explained to him the situation. Hardly believing it he walked back to the cabin with her, but the more she talked the more convincing she sounded.
He walked into the cabin and his daughter looked up and slid the mirror quickly under the covers. Now, thinking she must be up to something if she would be so quick to hide the instrument, he confronted her.
The girl looked up surprised at her father’s accusation.
“I would never hurt someone that means so much to you, father. You are happy, and I am happy for you. I mean no harm.”
“What is it that you hid so quickly?”
“It is the mirror you gave to mother and that she gave me. She told me to look in it whenever I was lonely. When I do, which has been often, I see her face, smiling and beautiful as I remember it best.” The girl pulled the mirror out and held it up to her father. He reached for it, warm from being under the covers and in the girls hands, and looked at his reflection. A tear came to his eye and he looked to his new wife.
“I’m sorry,” she stammered, trying to hold back her own tears, “I never knew, I…” She trailed off, and began to cry. Her face softened and she looked at the little girl as if for the first time. The three stood with each other in the small room as the rain gently eased up outside.
Friday, February 09, 2007
An Introduction
As the time between posts increases, I become more agitated that I cannot think of anything to write about. There is not much going on in current events and I am often too tired, or don't have the time, to write anything original. I feel it is a cop-out to continue to post other people's poetry (not that I'm going to stop, mind you). So, I tried to think of a way to write and not have to be completely original. That's when I got an idea from The Decemberists.
As you will see in my review of their new album below, they wrote three songs based around the folk tale of The Crane Wife. This got me to thinking. I began reading folk tales on-line, which is an enjoyable practice in and of itself, and I decided to try my hand at re-telling some of them. Why do this? Three reasons: 1) I cannot seem to think of anything else to write lately, 2) I would like to bring some great old stories into the light and perhaps shed some new light with my own telling, and 3) it's an excellent writing exercise. So, if for no other reason than to force myself to write, it's worthwhile. And hopefully you'll enjoy the product.
I do not know how much I will change the stories. I plan to keep them true to the original as much as possible, but I may take creative license here and there. My main point is to add the flesh. Folk tales are mostly stories of morals, lessons, and values, and tend to be very minimal. They tell you what they want to tell you and leave out the rest. They are kind of a skeleton of a story and I would like to add in the details, and practice the rule of "show, don't tell", a basic tenant of craft that should be learned in Creative Writing 101. Hopefully I'll succeed. If not, well, all three of you that read this blog can deal with it.
And now my laziness catch...if this only happens once, oh well, it happened once, but hopefully this is something I can make a regular feature. We'll see. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy.
As you will see in my review of their new album below, they wrote three songs based around the folk tale of The Crane Wife. This got me to thinking. I began reading folk tales on-line, which is an enjoyable practice in and of itself, and I decided to try my hand at re-telling some of them. Why do this? Three reasons: 1) I cannot seem to think of anything else to write lately, 2) I would like to bring some great old stories into the light and perhaps shed some new light with my own telling, and 3) it's an excellent writing exercise. So, if for no other reason than to force myself to write, it's worthwhile. And hopefully you'll enjoy the product.
I do not know how much I will change the stories. I plan to keep them true to the original as much as possible, but I may take creative license here and there. My main point is to add the flesh. Folk tales are mostly stories of morals, lessons, and values, and tend to be very minimal. They tell you what they want to tell you and leave out the rest. They are kind of a skeleton of a story and I would like to add in the details, and practice the rule of "show, don't tell", a basic tenant of craft that should be learned in Creative Writing 101. Hopefully I'll succeed. If not, well, all three of you that read this blog can deal with it.
And now my laziness catch...if this only happens once, oh well, it happened once, but hopefully this is something I can make a regular feature. We'll see. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Poem of the Day XIII
Thanks, Robert Frost
by David Ray from Music of Time: Selected and New Poems
Do you have hope for the future?
someone asked Robert Frost, toward the end.
Yes, and even for the past, he replied,
that it will turn out to have been all right
for what it was, something we can accept,
mistakes made by the selves we had to be,
not able to be, perhaps, what we wished,
or what looking back half the time it seems
we could so easily have been, or ought...
The future, yes, and even for the past,
that it will become something we can bear.
And I too, and my children, so I hope,
will recall as not too heavy the tug
of those albatrosses I sadly placed
upon their tender necks. Hope for the past,
yes, old Frost, your words provide that courage,
and it brings strange peace that itself passes
into past, easier to bear because
you said it, rather casually, as snow
went on falling in Vermont years ago.
© The Backwaters Press
by David Ray from Music of Time: Selected and New Poems
Do you have hope for the future?
someone asked Robert Frost, toward the end.
Yes, and even for the past, he replied,
that it will turn out to have been all right
for what it was, something we can accept,
mistakes made by the selves we had to be,
not able to be, perhaps, what we wished,
or what looking back half the time it seems
we could so easily have been, or ought...
The future, yes, and even for the past,
that it will become something we can bear.
And I too, and my children, so I hope,
will recall as not too heavy the tug
of those albatrosses I sadly placed
upon their tender necks. Hope for the past,
yes, old Frost, your words provide that courage,
and it brings strange peace that itself passes
into past, easier to bear because
you said it, rather casually, as snow
went on falling in Vermont years ago.
© The Backwaters Press
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
New's in Review II
The Jaywalking Historian
As if Atlanta hasn’t gotten enough bad publicity in the past couple of years (courthouse shooter, runaway bride, Cynthia McKinney, et al) now we have Atlanta police taking down a 56 year old history professor in town for the AHA (American Historical Association) conference.
Okay, so I just included this so I could say “Scorpions on a Plane!” It is a bit strange, though. I love this quote: “The airlines tell you can't bring water or shampoo on a plane," Helena Sullivan [the wife] said. But the scorpion did make it aboard, she said.
Of course there is absolutely no connection between an insect making its way onboard and keeping passengers from carrying on shampoo, but what else are you going to say to the reporter?
Pillars of Creation Toppled by Stellar Blast
First of all, I love the title of the article (same as my title for this section). It sounds like a chapter title in a discount bin sci-fi novel, doesn’t it?
Second, this really is pretty cool. Most people know that space is so vast that it takes thousands of years for the light from stars to reach us. What this article is saying is that these pillars of dust photographed in this Hubble Telescope picture were actually destroyed by a supernova 6000 years ago. It’ll be another 1000 years before we see what it looked like after the explosion. Kind of boggles the mind, ey?
“Tufts University professor, [Felipe Fernandez-Armesto] who was arrested last Thursday and charged with disorderly conduct, contends he was assaulted without provocation for merely jaywalking across Courtland Street. But Officer Kevin Leonpacher insists he is no rogue cop and suggests perhaps the professor is a bit of a scofflaw.” -from 1/10/07 AJC story
As if Atlanta hasn’t gotten enough bad publicity in the past couple of years (courthouse shooter, runaway bride, Cynthia McKinney, et al) now we have Atlanta police taking down a 56 year old history professor in town for the AHA (American Historical Association) conference.
Now, granted, I’m sure Dr. Fernandez wasn’t the little angel he’s claiming to be, but still, the officer should have been able to tell that this guy wasn’t a threat. It just looks bad no matter how you cut it. On the other hand, Dr. Fernandez should have been smart enough to cross at a crosswalk.
After being released from prison Dr. Fernandez described his cell mates, in what is my “Pretentious Professor Quote of the Day” (PPQD), as: "extremely unfortunate members of the underclass."
Scorpions on a Plane!
“A scorpion stung David Sullivan on the back of his right leg, just below the knee, then continued up that leg and down the other, he believes, before getting him again in the shin.
It wasn't what he was expecting on a flight from Chicago to Vermont.” –from a 1/10/07 AP story
Okay, so I just included this so I could say “Scorpions on a Plane!” It is a bit strange, though. I love this quote: “The airlines tell you can't bring water or shampoo on a plane," Helena Sullivan [the wife] said. But the scorpion did make it aboard, she said.
Of course there is absolutely no connection between an insect making its way onboard and keeping passengers from carrying on shampoo, but what else are you going to say to the reporter?
Pillars of Creation Toppled by Stellar Blast
“They helped open the public's eyes to the wonders of space when they were first photographed in 1995, but a new study suggests the famous Pillars of Creation in the Eagle Nebula might have already been toppled long ago, and that what the Hubble Space Telescope actually captured was their ghost image.” -from a 1/10/07 Space.com story
First of all, I love the title of the article (same as my title for this section). It sounds like a chapter title in a discount bin sci-fi novel, doesn’t it?
Second, this really is pretty cool. Most people know that space is so vast that it takes thousands of years for the light from stars to reach us. What this article is saying is that these pillars of dust photographed in this Hubble Telescope picture were actually destroyed by a supernova 6000 years ago. It’ll be another 1000 years before we see what it looked like after the explosion. Kind of boggles the mind, ey?
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Best Album of 2006
One year after picking up Picaresque, The Decemberists’ third full length release, my brother gave me The Crane Wife, the band’s fourth release, and first on a major label (Capitol) for Christmas this year. After one listen The Crane Wife won my personal Best Album of 2006 award. I haven’t been as excited about an album since my best album of 2005, Sufjan Stevens’ Illinois. Every track is great, and some are simply amazing.
The Decemberists are known for their archaic storybook lyrics and that doesn’t stop here. The title track (actually 3 songs, the third being the first song on the album and the first two comprising a medley towards the end of the album) is a recreation of a Japanese folk tale. In it, a man finds a wounded crane one day and nurses it back to health. Soon after, a woman shows up at his door and the two are married. Because they are poor, the woman says she can spin beautiful yarn, but the man must never look in on her while she is doing it. The man pushes her harder and harder because of his greed and finally his curiosity overcomes him and he looks in the room. Inside is the crane, pulling out her feathers to spin in the yarn. Upon spotting the man, the crane flies off, never to be seen again.
In addition to the literary feel of the lyrics they are often dark. Colin Meloy, the lead singer and lyrist, has a penchant for writing about abused children, thieves, murderer’s, and star crossed lovers tales ending in death. The topics are handled so expertly, though, and woven into such beautiful stories, that you could hardly be offended and in fact end up appreciating the rawness of the stories. The song “Shankhill Butchers”, based on the actual murderers in Ireland, reads like a Grimm’s fairy tale. The story was used to warn children into good behavior. The chorus goes:
Good lyrics need good music to hold them up, and the music on this album is excellent. The Decemberists are typically described as “indie-folk” or perhaps even “indie-pop”, but it really is hard to classify the music. There are hints of rock through the ages from the Led Zeppelin-esque “When the War Came” to the 1970’s prog rock-ish 3 song opus “The Island” (especially the excellent middle track), and speckles of 80’s and 90’s rock throughout. The band certainly makes good use of its musical predecessors. The songs are upbeat when they need to be and down trodden at the right moments. Every track alternates between acoustic guitars, distorted electrics, drums, and bass guitar, all perfectly holding up the story book lyrics.
There’s no such thing as a perfect album, but this one is darn near close. The best part is that this prolific 5 piece from Oregon (they’ve already put out 4 full length albums in 4 years) is a long way from finished. It will be hard to top The Crane Wife, but even a near miss would still be an excellent album.
The Decemberists are known for their archaic storybook lyrics and that doesn’t stop here. The title track (actually 3 songs, the third being the first song on the album and the first two comprising a medley towards the end of the album) is a recreation of a Japanese folk tale. In it, a man finds a wounded crane one day and nurses it back to health. Soon after, a woman shows up at his door and the two are married. Because they are poor, the woman says she can spin beautiful yarn, but the man must never look in on her while she is doing it. The man pushes her harder and harder because of his greed and finally his curiosity overcomes him and he looks in the room. Inside is the crane, pulling out her feathers to spin in the yarn. Upon spotting the man, the crane flies off, never to be seen again.
In addition to the literary feel of the lyrics they are often dark. Colin Meloy, the lead singer and lyrist, has a penchant for writing about abused children, thieves, murderer’s, and star crossed lovers tales ending in death. The topics are handled so expertly, though, and woven into such beautiful stories, that you could hardly be offended and in fact end up appreciating the rawness of the stories. The song “Shankhill Butchers”, based on the actual murderers in Ireland, reads like a Grimm’s fairy tale. The story was used to warn children into good behavior. The chorus goes:
“‘Cause everybody knows
If you don’t mind your mother’s words
A wicked wind will blow
Your ribbons from you curls
Everybody moan, everybody shake
The Shankhill Butchers want to catch you awake”
Good lyrics need good music to hold them up, and the music on this album is excellent. The Decemberists are typically described as “indie-folk” or perhaps even “indie-pop”, but it really is hard to classify the music. There are hints of rock through the ages from the Led Zeppelin-esque “When the War Came” to the 1970’s prog rock-ish 3 song opus “The Island” (especially the excellent middle track), and speckles of 80’s and 90’s rock throughout. The band certainly makes good use of its musical predecessors. The songs are upbeat when they need to be and down trodden at the right moments. Every track alternates between acoustic guitars, distorted electrics, drums, and bass guitar, all perfectly holding up the story book lyrics.
There’s no such thing as a perfect album, but this one is darn near close. The best part is that this prolific 5 piece from Oregon (they’ve already put out 4 full length albums in 4 years) is a long way from finished. It will be hard to top The Crane Wife, but even a near miss would still be an excellent album.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Another BCS Rant
It’s been said before, but I’ll say it again: college football has got to get rid of the current BCS system. Every year at least one team gets shafted, sometimes worse than others: remember a couple years ago when Auburn went undefeated, won the SEC, and their bowl game and finished second? Yea, I know there are other more prominent ones, but this is the one I remember. Most fans will be quick to share their favorite sob story before you can even finish the question. The problem, though, does more than just tick off a few fans every year; it dampens the excitement of a great sport. Sportswriters can talk all day about who they think will win on paper, but as it’s been said, the game isn’t played on paper. That’s the reason all that time and money is spent actually going out to the field and playing the game. You never know what can happen, which is precisely what makes it so exciting.
For example, take Boise State’s thrilling win in the Fiesta Bowl over Oklahoma on Monday. You’ve probably heard about this by now even if you aren’t a sports fan because it’s been everywhere. Yesterday I heard mention of it in discussion groups I’m a part of, on NPR, Sports Center, the evening news, the newspaper, heck they were still talking about it today in the news. For those that don’t know the story, it goes something like this: Boise State came into the game as an underdog and no one gave them a chance to win outside of the Boise State campus. As Terry Bowden put it in his column today:
But they did win and they did it with more excitement than has been seen in awhile. In case you didn’t catch the two trick plays that tied and won the game, you can find the hook and ladder play here and the statue of liberty play here. The amazing thing is that these plays, especially the latter, are a part of football folklore and haven’t worked in a game in years. But they did on Monday.
And that’s just it. Depriving 13-0 Boise State of a shot at the title, as well as all the other teams with good records, is depriving the country of a really great story. Of course there are far more important issues in our world, but sometimes the only way to deal with the day to day difficulties is to get your mind off things. That’s why we like sports, they let us act out our frustrations and emotions in a controlled environment. Games like Monday’s Fiesta Bowl unite and inspire and I guess I’d just like to see more chances for those kinds of moments.
For example, take Boise State’s thrilling win in the Fiesta Bowl over Oklahoma on Monday. You’ve probably heard about this by now even if you aren’t a sports fan because it’s been everywhere. Yesterday I heard mention of it in discussion groups I’m a part of, on NPR, Sports Center, the evening news, the newspaper, heck they were still talking about it today in the news. For those that don’t know the story, it goes something like this: Boise State came into the game as an underdog and no one gave them a chance to win outside of the Boise State campus. As Terry Bowden put it in his column today:
I couldn't find one college football analyst or expert who picked them. Who possibly could have predicted that Boise State, which moved to Division I-A just a decade ago, could beat Oklahoma, the team with the highest paid coach in college football (well, as of Jan. 2), the best facilities, the best athletes, seven national championships and arguably the best winning tradition anywhere?
But they did win and they did it with more excitement than has been seen in awhile. In case you didn’t catch the two trick plays that tied and won the game, you can find the hook and ladder play here and the statue of liberty play here. The amazing thing is that these plays, especially the latter, are a part of football folklore and haven’t worked in a game in years. But they did on Monday.
And that’s just it. Depriving 13-0 Boise State of a shot at the title, as well as all the other teams with good records, is depriving the country of a really great story. Of course there are far more important issues in our world, but sometimes the only way to deal with the day to day difficulties is to get your mind off things. That’s why we like sports, they let us act out our frustrations and emotions in a controlled environment. Games like Monday’s Fiesta Bowl unite and inspire and I guess I’d just like to see more chances for those kinds of moments.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Start the New Year with Music
I recently discovered a really cool web-site. Fair warning: you may want to wait until you get home from work before clicking on the link for this site, as it will certainly consume a bit of your time, and I'd hate to see you get fired because of me.
The site is called Pandora, and it's an internet radio site. What makes it different from other internet radio sites is that you pick a band or a song that you like and the Music Genome Project matches the style of the artist or song you picked with others. It's a great way to not only listen to good music, but to learn about new artists. Plus they have a cool blog add on...scroll down on my page here and you'll see it.
Enjoy! And if you create an account let me know and I'll bookmark you as a friend and we can share stations.
The site is called Pandora, and it's an internet radio site. What makes it different from other internet radio sites is that you pick a band or a song that you like and the Music Genome Project matches the style of the artist or song you picked with others. It's a great way to not only listen to good music, but to learn about new artists. Plus they have a cool blog add on...scroll down on my page here and you'll see it.
Enjoy! And if you create an account let me know and I'll bookmark you as a friend and we can share stations.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)