The piece on the philology of folk tales that I linked to this morning reminded me of my reading of Norwegian fairy tales (called “eventyr,” which means “adventure,” more or less). A pair of Norwegians named Asbjørnsen and Moe, disciples of the Grimms, compiled the most famous collection. The familiar English translation is George Dasent’s East o’ the Sun and West o’ the Moon, but I don’t recommend it. It’s not a particularly good translation, and has a very Victorian flavor. This one is better.

My favorite eventyr is “The Twelve Wild Ducks,” which (in line with the interrelations of stories mentioned in that piece below) is clearly (to me at least) a cousin to “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.” This is especially apparent at the beginning. However, it’s far longer and more convoluted than the Grimms’ German tale that we all grew up with. It also bears interesting similarities to the classical story of Cupid and Psyche, which means Snow White and Psyche are related at only one remove. I find that intriguing. Continue reading “The Twelve Wild Ducks” →

If you’ve read J. R. R. Tolkien’s essay, “On Fairy Stories,” you’re familiar with the fact that folk tales can trace their origins back through millennia and through countless cultures. Stories are adapted by each culture to meet its own peculiar needs, as outlined in this Telegraph.co.uk article.

However, you’ll also recall that Tolkien was very adamant in insisting that the fact that one story is descended from another does not mean they are the same stories.

Tip: Cronaca.

I have to admit I was surprised by the turnout for the 9/12 rallies. I’m not often surprised, expecting the worst as I do, most of the time.

I read a biography of Jefferson (way over my head; I didn’t understand half of it) back when I was in Elementary School. One thing I took away, though, was that Jefferson cherished a basic belief in the wisdom of the people. Let discussion be unfettered; let every party have its say, and the people (he believed) would choose the right argument most of the time.

Lincoln, coming along later, at a time when public debate was the most violent it’s ever been in this country, seemed a little less sanguine, but still generally confident in common sense of the people, when he said (reportedly), “You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time. But you can’t fool all of the people all of the time.”

Me, I’ve grown cynical, living in a day when truth has ceased to be even a matter of interest for many of the most respected thinkers in the world. I remember C. S. Lewis’ line from That Hideous Strength—“They have an engine called the Press whereby the people are deceived.” I’ve never used the word “sheeple,” but I’d begun to fear that was what we’d become.

But I read about all those people in Washington D.C. on Saturday, and suddenly I have a little hope. There are (it appears) limits to the amount of nonsense the American people can be force-fed before they react.

Maybe that’s why Minnesota’s so liberal. Maybe we’re just too polite up here to tell our jailers, “You gave us gruel yesterday, and gruel today, and we’re sick of gruel! Especially when you’re billing us for it.”

Norman Borlaug is dead. He is of particular interest to me because he was a Norwegian-American boy, and he came to Luther College, Decorah, Iowa (which claimed him, as I recall, for some reason. Maybe because he came from nearby Cresco. Apparently he didn’t go to Luther) to speak during the year I attended the school. I think I heard him speak. I’m not exactly sure (and no, I wasn’t on drugs. I just have a bad memory). Through the use of high-yield crops, he saved the lives of billions of human beings. Yet he’s almost unknown.

I remember that for years after I’d seen him at Luther (I think I saw him) I heard critics complain that his “Green Revolution” was a fraud. “It’s unsustainable,” the critics said. “It depends too much on chemical fertilizers and technology.”

For leftists, saving billions of lives isn’t enough. You’ve got to do it the right way.

And, preferably, kill some capitalists in the process.

This is the Cité of Carcassonne in France, the largest medieval city with it’s walls intact.