Episode 174 – Jeremiah was a Bullfrog – Myths Your Teacher Hated

Episode 174 Show Notes

Source: Korean Folklore

This week on MYTH, we’re heading to Korea for a strange feud between a farmer and a frog. You’ll see that bullfrogs can grow to enormous size, that rich men are always evil, and that it’s not nice to trick someone into marriage. Then, in Gods and Monsters, a proud papa mole is going to seek the best possible husband for his daughter. This is the Myths Your Teacher Hated podcast, where I tell the stories of cultures from around the world in all of their original, bloody, uncensored glory. Modern tellings of these stories have become dry and dusty, but I’ll be trying to breathe new life into them. This is Episode 174, “Jeremiah was a Bullfrog”. As always, this episode is not safe for work.
Valentine’s Day is around the corner, so why not explore a tale of an especially strange romance? This week’s story comes from The Unmannerly Tiger and Other Korean Tales, collected by William Elliot Griffs in 1911. Long, long ago in a distant valley between two very isolated and rocky mountains lived old farmer Pak We and his wife (who, alas, is not named). We’s land was very thin and poor, so he had to toil from sunrise to sunset (and often well beyond under the light of the moon) just to grow enough food to keep the two of them alive. The couple had never had a child of their own, which was just as well. They’d considered adopting, but they knew that their lives were perched on the razor’s edge of abject poverty, so they couldn’t really afford it.
On the rare occasions where Farmer Pak didn’t have work to keep him busy, he liked to head up into the hills and fish in the ponds there. He was a very skilled fisherman in fact, so he often returned with a good string of fish that he could sell in the nearest village. With the resulting profits, he was able to buy the things that he and his wife needed but couldn’t make themselves. It was a simple, tiring life, but the couple had each other and that was enough. Their love and companionship kept them happy if exhausted, though they often wondered with some anxiety about what would become of them when they grew too old to work. There was no social safety net to speak of, and begging on the streets wasn’t a terribly good retirement plan.
One summer, Farmer Pak was at his usual pond trying to both relax and earn some much-needed money, but the fish weren’t biting. We looked over everything to try and figure out the problem. His worms were as fat and juicy as ever, his hooks and lines were in good order, and as far as he could tell, his eyesight was as sharp as ever. So what was the problem? He soon realized that he wasn’t the problem – it wasn’t that the fish were ignoring his bait, it was that there were simply far fewer of them than there should be. Worse, the number dropped noticeably every day that he came back. He used to be able to catch a stringful in an hour, tops; now, he was lucky to be able to get half that many through the course of an entire day. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he also noticed that the pond itself was beginning to dry up, its water level dropping noticeably.
It soon got to the point that there were no fish at all left in the muddy pit that had once been a glistening pool. Sparkling waves had been replaced by a dried-out waste of earth and rock. The stream that had fed it was still there, but it was no more than a thin ribbon of water that We could easily jump over. Since this was what fed his rice paddies and fields, the situation was even more dire than he had originally thought – not only would he have no fish to supplement his income, he would soon have no food at all for himself or his wife. If something didn’t change fucking soon, the two of them would soon be forced to choose between starving or leaving their home to become beggars on the streets.
Terrified and furious about this disaster, Pak We began searching for what was causing the sudden drought and fish extinction event. With his keen vision, he followed the banks of the dried-up stream until he found something very strange. There amongst the rocks and stones was a bullfrog the size of a goddamned elephant. It blinked at him with its huge, bulging eyes and croaked lazily at the approaching farmer. It was too much for We to handle. His fear and anger at being slowly starved out of his home bubbled up into a rage like nothing he’d ever known before. He hated this fucking frog for eating all of the fucking fish and drinking all of the fucking water. It was this little asshole’s fault that he and his wife were in such dire straits. He screamed at the bullfrog, cursing him, his family, and all of his ancestors, especially those on his maternal line back to eight generations (a typical thing in Korea).
Instead of being scared, angry, or sorry, this bullfrog was only mildly annoyed. He blinked slowly before bowing. “Don’t you worry your little head, Farmer Pak. In time, you’ll be glad for my presence, even with all of my eating and drinking. As for me, I want to go home with you and live with you and your wife.” That took We by surprise. “Are you serious? Not only do you eat me out of house and home, now you literally want to fill my small home with your slimy, gross bulk? Hell to the no!” “Don’t be so quick to decide, Pak. I have news for you that you’ll want to hear, and I think you’ll be interested in seeing what I can do besides. I really think you should invite me in as your guest. Come on.”
Old Farmer Pak stopped his raging to really think this over. On the one hand, he really didn’t want a mutant frog as a roommate. Plus, he didn’t relish the conversation with his wife about inviting in the source of their misery. On the other hand, they were already starving, and the strange, enormous bullfrog couldn’t really do any more damage than he already had. And what about the news he had teased? If it was really as cool as the amphibian had promised, then maybe his wife would want to hear it. She was very fond of gossip (it made her feel connected to the larger world in her very isolated home), and this would probably be some juicy stuff. It didn’t help that her husband was quiet and taciturn, so she didn’t often have a good conversationalist to speak with. As strange as it was to consider, this bullfrog might be a breath of fresh air.
Sighing, Pak We decided fuck it. What did he have to lose? “Alright, come on I guess. My wife is going to be pissed, so I hope your news is as good as you say.” Together, they made their way down the hills towards the valley. Pak shuffled along as quickly as he could, which wasn’t nearly as fast as it used to be with his old, aching shins. The bullfrog kept up easily, covering the distance with a few lazy leaps with his three-foot long legs. When they arrived at the house, Mrs. Pak was waiting for them with an understandably horrified look on her face. “Husband, what the hell is going on?” He explained about what he had learned and that, to his chagrin, he had invited this enormous amphibian to stay with them as a guest for an indeterminate amount of time. When he explained that the frog knew everyone’s business and was extremely interested in spilling all of the tea, she changed her tune. Mrs. Pak hadn’t had someone to really chat with for a long time, so this intrigued her more than she wanted to admit. Coming around to her husband’s line of reasoning, she too welcomed the bullfrog in as their honored guest. She was so excited about it by now, in fact, that she offered their new froggy friend one of their very best rooms.
The two of them went out into the woodshed and gathered up all of the leaves, grass, and brush that had been gathered there to supply their fires. They lugged it all into the house to make a more appropriate bed for their amphibious guest. They also fed him all of the worms he wanted. It wasn’t like We could use them to fish anymore, what with the pond being all dried out. The couple had their own meager meal while the bullfrog chomped, then cleaned up while the latter took an afternoon nap.
By the time that the frog felt refreshed enough to wake back up, the elderly couple had changed into their finest clothes in order to formally receive their guest, as was proper. Pak We had put on his tall horsehair hat and his long white coat, which had been washed and starched by his wife until it glistened like fresh fallen snow. Mrs. Pak presumably also wore something nice, but the story doesn’t bother to tell us. Bullfrog didn’t exactly wear clothes, so he just came as he was. He was every bit as affable, charming, and full of the latest gossip as he had indicated, which delighted the conversation-starved Mrs. Pak. She had such a good time, in fact, that he probably could have convinced her to adopt him as her son, enormous reptile or no.
The night passed quickly and in time, everyone went to bed. At dawn the next morning, Bullfrog rose with the sun and greeted the new day with a beautiful, melodious song. When the Paks rose to this unexpected pleasure, they were even more surprised to find that this lovely music appeared to also be tinged with magic. Everything they had wished for over their long, hard lives seemed to suddenly be appearing from literally nowhere. As they walked out onto the porch where Bullfrog sat, they saw that their yard was filled with oxen, donkeys, and horses laden with every kind of box, bale, and bundle waiting to be unloaded to reveal the goods within. A line of even more trailed off beyond where the road turned behind the hills. Porters came along and began said unloading, handing off incredible treasures wrought in silver, gold, and jade to lovely servant girls dressed in shimmering white. There were also fine clothes and hats for Farmer Pak, jade hair pins, tortoise shell and ivory combs, silk gowns, embroidered and jeweled capes and girdles, and every sort of fine garment for Mrs. Pak. There were also gorgeously carved and inlaid cabinets, wardrobes, and, finest of all, a polished metal mirror that looked like the full autumn moon.
All of this was quite impossible, but it was also very clearly real and present. The awestruck couple accepted these lavish treasures with wonder, and Mrs. Pak was tempted to stand in front of that grand mirror all day to admire the incredible assortment of fine clothing she now owned, all of which was more luxurious than she had ever believed she would ever see, let alone wear. As everything was unpacked, five of the most beautiful young women that either human had ever seen in all their lives danced, sang, and played music to accompany themselves. It was a show fit for an emperor, which was fitting given their new extravagant wealth. Tables of jade and sandalwood were set with a feast of the finest wines and richest foods, delicacies far beyond the simple but hearty fare that both were used to.
While they ate, skilled carpenters and decorators razed the old house and erected a new one, much grander than anything they had ever seen before. It had wide, elegant halls leading to cavernous rooms with delicately carved partitions. These were furnished with lush flowers, jeweled chess sets, and all sorts of other palatial decor. Likewise was their larder now stuffed with all manner of delicacies and staples, complete with freshly baked pastries. The couple sat down to another dinner with their guest, this one twice as large and many times as grand as the one the night before. All the while Bullfrog regaled them with jokes, stories, and entertaining gossip. It was literally a dream come true, exactly as promised.
One of the favorite subjects of old Mrs. Pak was Miss Peach, whose charm and grace the elderly woman deeply admired. She was the accomplished daughter of the local yangban, the traditional ruling class of Korea during the Joseon period, which stretched from the medieval period up until the end of the dynasty in 1897. His name was Mr. Poom, and he lived with his daughter and many servants and retainers in an enormous mansion in the next town over. Mrs. Pak had always delighted in her rare visits, especially when she happened to see the lovely Poom Peach, and she insisted that there was no other woman in the world quite like her. Bullfrog seemed very intrigued by the praise heaped on the young Peach’s head by his hostess.
They enjoyed this unexpected luxury for the next week, during which the couple celebrated their good fortune with their guest. The exuberant joy came to a screeching halt with Bullfrog informing Pak We that he intended to marry and that Farmer Pak would be the one to help him find said wife. Though ‘find’ wasn’t exactly the right word since Froggy had already decided that he would marry the elegant Poom Peach. Mrs. Pak had sung her praises so elegantly and loftily that he would have none but her as his bride. Even with their newfound resources, this was an impossible task. Rich they might now be, but they were not of the gentry and their names were well-known as poor farmers. A lord like Mr. Poom would never be persuaded by Farmer Pak and especially not when the groom-to-be was an oversized amphibian!
We begged to be excused from this task, explaining all of the reasons that it simply wasn’t possible, but Bullfrog refused to be dissuaded. After all that their guest had done to drastically change their lives, he knew that he couldn’t possibly refuse this request. So when it became clear that Bullfrog was bound and determined, the elderly farmer cursed his wife for putting this foolhardy notion in the reptile’s head, donned his finest set of clothes, and headed out to town. He fully expected this quixotic quest to come to a tragic end, most likely involving Mr. Pak being beaten to death for his insolence at offering such a brazen insult as asking the lord’s daughter to marry a frog. I mean, a magic frog sure, but that’s still going to be a hard sell.
As fine and wonderful as Mrs. Pak thought Peach Poom to be, her father was well-known as a bit of a bastard. He had been the magistrate of a distant district for many years and had used his power and influence to wring much money from the poor and into his own pockets, far above and beyond what was “reasonable” or strictly “legal”. Having thus earned himself an ill-gotten fortune, he had retired back to his home city to live in luxury. He hadn’t become any less of a bastard in retirement however, and had built a private stockade on which commoners who annoyed or offended him were thrown onto and beaten with oars until Poom was satisfied. Those who walked away at all did so broken and bleeding, and often permanently disabled. So understand that Farmer Pak’s fear of being beaten to death for this errand is very, very reasonable.
Mr. Poom in fact had three daughters. The elder two were already married; Peach was the youngest of the three, having just turned 18, and widely considered to be the most beautiful. I have no idea how old Bullfrog is supposed to be to know if this is an age-appropriate bride or not. Monster fuckery tends to get a little weird, even when it’s from a story centuries old.
The trip to town didn’t take nearly as long as We would have liked it to. All too soon, he was standing in front of Poom’s mansion. It still hadn’t been a short trip, and the shrewd farmer had used the time coming up with a plan to work some matchmaking magic. His elegant clothes were enough to secure him an audience with Mr. Poom, so We began by waxing poetic about the wealth, power, ambition, and clear promise of the suitor seeking Peach’s hand. He told of how this gallant hopeful groom had come and made the Paks’ lives better and made them both incredibly happy, proof that he could do the same to the lovely Poom Peach.
Old Man Poom’s interest had been piqued by the description of the suitor’s extravagant wealth and power. He had plenty of his own to be sure, but rich, powerful men can never seem to have enough of either. This match was sounding mighty fine indeed since it would clearly increase Mr. Poom’s own wealth and standing. “That all sounds very fine indeed, Mr. Pak. I appreciate you bringing this to my attention. I do have one question though: what is this fine young suitor’s name?” And here was the pickle that Pak had spent the trip trying to find a way out of. The frog family was the oldest and most numerous in the world, renowned far and wide for their rich voices, but he doubted that Poom would be impressed with that information. Unfortunately, he hadn’t come up with any real solution that didn’t involve lying (which would quickly be discovered and end with Pak being beaten to death).
He froze, unable to speak for a minute or two as his mind desperately searched for an answer that would suffice while still being true. If We was a great trickster figure, he probably would have come up with something exceedingly clever. Alas he was but a humble farmer, so the best he could come up with was “I don’t remember. I’m afraid that I spent so much time pondering on this fine suitor’s grace and accomplishments that I’ve clean forgotten his name. I’ve wracked my brain to try and recall it, but alas it’s no use. I simply don’t remember.”
Poom was a bit suspicious at this, but he was also very greedy so he decided to let the weirdness slide. Sort of. “I am something of an authority on the peerage of Korea, Mr. Pak, so I may be uniquely suited to help you remember.” He then listed out all the great families of the kingdom, but Mr. Pak was forced to concede each time that no, that was not the suitor’s name. “Well that is strange indeed. I’m pretty sure that I’ve listed every family of any standing or renowned in all of Korea, yet you say he is none of these. Well then, what is his office of rank? Where does his family live? Maybe this will help us figure out which family we’ve missed.” Poom’s probing questions were relentless and, eventually, Pak was forced to confess the truth: the suitor was none of these families because, indeed, he was not a man at all but a frog.
Mr. Poom was understandably aghast at this revelation. “Are you fucking serious? You want me to marry my beloved daughter off to some slimy pond vermin? Is this your idea of some sick joke? How dare you insult me, my good name, and my daughter in my own fucking house! Guards! Take this man to the stockade, tie him down, and give him 20 blows for his insolence!” Three men promptly seized a terrified We while four more brought out the whipping bench. He was stripped of his coat, bound hand and foot, and his back stretched out and exposed. A huge, strapping man took the enormous wooden paddle and raised it up over his head to deliver the old man’s punishment.
While all this was happening however, the sky above was growing dark and angry. As the first blow fell, lightning split the sky, thunder shook the house to its very foundations, and a solid sheet of rain filled the air, threatening to drown the house and garden in a sudden deluge. Moments later, hail began to pelt the roof and the fields – egg-sized at first but soon growing until rocky shards of ice the size of cannon balls were raining down on everything. Mr. Poom knew an ill-omen when he saw one. “Hold! Stop your punishment. Perhaps I was too hasty, and should inquire a little more about your, er, unusual suitor.” As soon as the hulking man lowered the oar, the lightning and thunder ceased, and the clouds rolled away to reveal the sun in all its splendor once more.
Mr. Poom was duly impressed by this display of raw power. There was no question that these natural disasters had been brought about to protect Mr. Pak, and could be the doing of none other than the would-be frog groom. He pondered the situation, considering it with cold logic. His daughter wouldn’t be happy about being married to a reptile, but Poom himself would still be richer and more powerful than ever before. In his mind, that was a very fair bargain. Like I said, he’s a bit of a bastard. “I accept your offer, Mr. Pak. My daughter Peach will marry your frog.” To avoid any unfortunate runaway bride situation that might cost Mr. Poom his promised reward, he decided to tell his daughter only that she was to be married but not to whom.
To make doubly sure that no word leaked out (and to get his desired riches as quickly as possible), Mr. Poom declared that the wedding would be held that very day. Within an hour, while Peach was getting ready to meet her husband-to-be for the very first time, a string of fine horses and donkeys pulling palanquins loaded with luxurious presents for the bride and her family arrived at the mansion. In addition to all of the silk dresses, delicate perfumes, and other such fancy items for the young woman came a group of lovely young handmaids to wait on the bride and help her get ready for her wedding. For the record, I don’t know if Bullfrog is summoning these people from somewhere or if he is just creating them from thin air, or if they’re some sort of spirit, and I’m not sure which is a more existentially terrifying option for the young people in question. They’ve either been yanked away from their lives and had their heads magicked into being perfect servants, or they have literally come into being with no prior lives and no purpose except to serve, or they are spirits bound to a bullfrog’s will.
Anyway, these handmaids dressed Poom Peach in luxurious silk and piled her hair atop her head with jade and silver hairpins, rosettes, and fresh flowers. Her ceremonial headdress stood over a foot above her head and was likewise made of silver and jade. After admiring herself in the mirror to the praises of her new handmaids (and probably working to calm her nerves), the young bride stepped into the bridal palanquin to be carried off to her wedding, which was as rich and lavish as everything else Bullfrog summoned and/or created. As was tradition, the bride’s eyes were sealed shut and covered with wax since she was meant to see nothing of her husband until the end of the feast when she would meet him in the bridal chamber. This has to be unsettling enough when you know the groom, but poor Peach is marrying a stranger who hasn’t even been described to her except in vague, flowery terms.
The ceremony and the following feast both went off without a hitch. The guests had a marvelous time dining, drinking, and dancing while the bride sat quietly, blinded and thinking about what her new husband would be like. The ceremony proper was only witnessed by the parents and the groom, so there were no shocked gasps at Bullfrog’s presence. The story doesn’t say this, but I like to imagine him also all decked out in traditional finery. I mean hey – it’s his wedding too. At last, the ceremony and celebration were over and it was time for the wedding night. The bride was carried up to the elegantly appointed honeymoon suite to unseal her eyes and look upon her new groom for the very first time.
You can probably imagine her reaction when her vision cleared to reveal not a man but a mutant-sized bullfrog. She screamed and scrambled away, equal parts terrified and furious about being tricked into marrying a slimy, disgusting reptile! Was this some kind of cruel prank? What had she ever done to deserve such horror? Bullfrog took the abuse with calm understanding, his low voice murmuring soothing things to try and comfort his new wife. “I know that this wasn’t what you expected from tonight, and I’m very sorry about the deceit. I promise that you won’t be forced to do anything you don’t want to do from this point forward. But if I could, I would ask one favor from you as your husband.” He pulled out a pair of long, sharp scissors from a desk. “My dear wife, would you please use those to rip open the skin along my back from shoulder to thigh? I’m afraid I’m outgrowing it, leaving it stretched far too tightly. It’s causing me enormous pain, so any relief is welcome.”
Poor Peach wasn’t in the best frame of mind to be doing favors for anyone right now, especially the amphibious husband she’d been tricked into marrying, but cutting into his flesh did sound appealing. With a viciousness that belied her usually kind and sensitive demeanor, the distraught bride took the scissors and buried them to the hilt in Bullfrog’s back. With a strange look of vindication mixed with disgust, Peach tore cruelly through her husband’s flesh from neck to waist. To her great surprise, no blood flowed from the wound and, as the speckled skin parted, what appeared to be silk was revealed beneath. When her ragged cut reached around 6 feet long, Bullfrog tottered upright, standing unsteadily on two legs. He began to shake and convulse in the throes of a terrible seizure that ended with him seizing the torn flesh with his front flippers and ripping it down to his feet. Leaping out of the heaped frog skin was a handsome prince.
He stood before his bride with a shy smile while Peach’s wide eyes drank his new form in. He was tall, fair, and sculpted like a marble statue with waves of dark hair that looked tantalizingly soft. All in all, this man was everything she had ever dreamed of in a husband. He wore a jeweled baldric (a belt worn across one shoulder, often to hold a weapon) that was embroidered with golden dragons along the breast to denote his high rank. What’s more, he wore a cap with a sparkling diamond at its center which was a clear and unmistakable mark of royalty. His clothes were some of the finest she had ever seen, but they couldn’t begin to compare to the glory of the man who wore them. He was, in short, your typical fairy tale prince.
Peach’s opinions on her wedding day had made an abrupt one-eighty. She was now absolutely thrilled to have this gorgeous stranger as her husband and was very much looking forward to getting to know him both conversationally and carnally. They had a very long but very pleasant night with all of the usual bed squeaking that you would expect from a pair of newlyweds. In the morning, Mr. and Mrs. Pak were amazed to see this handsome young man come down with a blushing Peach and introduce himself as their foster son, formerly the Bullfrog. He told them the story of his curse. He was in truth the son of the King of the Stars but, in punishment for some offense which the story does not specify, his father turned him into a frog and cast him down to earth. Furthermore, he was charged with completing three tasks before he could come back home to live amongst the stars. The first was to drink up all the water in the lake where he had been sent; the second was to eat all the fish in that same lake; and the third was to win the hand of the most beautiful woman in the world as his bride.
The Star Prince smiled and kissed his new wife’s hand. “And as you can see, my foster parents, I do indeed have the most beautiful bride in the world, and it’s all thanks to your help. All of the gifts that have been provided to you came from the power of the skies that is my birthright. All of these will remain here for you, but my bride and I must return to the heavens to see my father.” Even as he spoke, a chariot drawn by bright silver horses appeared in the yard next to the door of the house. Bowing low to the old farmer couple who had taken him in and helped him at great risk to themselves, the Prince and Peach stepped into the chariot and flew up into the sky, vanishing behind the clouds. Shortly thereafter, a new double star was spotted in the sky.
But what about the cruel, covetous Mr. Poom? He doesn’t really seem to get any comeuppance. I mean, I doubt he can do much to increase his own coffers with the wealth of the stars, but he’s still a rich, powerful man who squeezes the poor people around him to increase his own standing (much like most super rich people). There’s literally nothing to stop him and no Scrooge-like shift in perspective. The Star Prince doesn’t even say some casual thing about keeping an eye on him to ensure he does better or anything. At best, maybe he’ll think twice the next time he goes to beat someone for annoying him, but I doubt that will last if there’s no magical storm to stop him the next time. It’s a little unsatisfying for me, but I suppose that Mr. Poom was never really the focus of the story, and it didn’t ever actually care about what happened to him.
Anyway, it’s time for Gods and Monsters. This is a segment where I get into a little more detail about one of the gods or monsters from this week’s pantheon that was not discussed in the main story. This week’s erstwhile bride is Ms. Mole.
This story also comes from The Unmannerly Tiger and Other Korean Tales, collected by William Elliot Griffs. By the river Kingin (which may be a mistranslation of the Imjin River) stands the great stone statue of Mireuk, the Korean creator god. It was carved out of the solid rock ages ago and has stood the test of time since that long ago age. The statue’s base lies far beneath the surface and stormclouds gather around its graven granite peak, just to give you an idea of how utterly enormous this image of Mireuk is meant to be.
Now down in the earth beside this great colossus lived a furry little mole and his wife. They had a cozy, happy life and soon a daughter was born to them. As far as the happy parents were concerned, she was the most wonderful little mole baby that the world had ever seen. Her father was so proud of her, in fact, that he decided right then and there that she would marry only the grandest husband in the whole universe. Nothing else could possibly be good enough for his soft-furred little girl (nor would it satisfy his own pride in the beauty of the creature that was his daughter). And if you’re thinking that this plot sounds a tad familiar, you’re right. There was a similar tale back in Episode 140 with Mr. Rat and his daughter.
Father Mole sought long and hard to find out just what, in all of nature, was considered to be the most wonderful. It was a difficult task since the criteria are going to vary wildly depending on who you ask. Just ask Mr. Rat. He called in his neighbors and discussed the matter with them, but to no avail. He went to speak with the king of the moles, calling upon the king’s court of wise ones for counsel. These wise moles discussed it amongst themselves and eventually came to the conclusion that the Great Blue Sky was above everything else both literally and also in grandeur and greatness. It seemed a reasonable answer to Father Mole, so he resolved to make the journey up to the sky with his marriage proposal forthwith.
Luckily for him, the path to reach the sky was pretty obvious, what with the enormous statue that stretched above the clouds and all. It was a long walk, but Father Mole went to speak with the sky and offer up his beautiful daughter as the Great Blue Sky’s bride. “Your great azure robe stretches over everything, and you have a grand reputation both on the earth and under it, as being the greatest thing in the universe. Thus, you are the only one who could possibly be a fitting match for my daughter.” But much to Father Mole’s surprise, the sky declined this offer. “You are mistaken, little mole. I am not the greatest. That honor belongs to the Sun. He controls me, for he can make it day or night as he pleases. I can only wear my brightest, most vibrant colors when he rises in the morning or sets in the evening. When he’s resting, people don’t see me at all, looking instead at the stars. If you seek the greatest in the universe for your daughter, you should go speak to Sun.”
And so he did. Mr. Mole went out at sunrise and, turning his face away since it was dangerous to stare directly into the sun, made the same argument as before. The mighty solar being who seemed so fierce and dazzling was actually quite modest and demure when you actually spoke to him. “That’s so kind of you to think of me, Mr. Mole, but I am not in fact the greatest. Cloud is far greater than I, able to cover me up and make me invisible whenever he wants. Hours, days, even weeks at a time, I am powerless to do anything about Cloud if he wishes to hang out in front of me. So you see, I’m not nearly as powerful as you imagine. Go and speak to Cloud.”
Well this was becoming quite a chore. He hadn’t expected to be rejected not once but twice. Plus, Cloud offered up a whole new conundrum: should he visit and make his plea on a day when it was fluffy, silvery, and gentle, or one where it was dark, brooding, and storm-tossed? Rather than thinking about what might be best for his daughter, Father Mole instead concerned himself with his own pride. He wanted the mightiest possible bridegroom for his daughter, and the stormy Cloud was certainly more powerful than the gentler fluffy one. And so, the next time that lightning flashed and thunder rolled, Father Mole went out to speak with Cloud about marriage.
The terrible thunderhead snarled with rage, eyes lit with the full fury of the rising tempest. “And why do you come to me, little Mole?” “Because not only are you the greatest thing in the universe, as avowed by Sun, you have a terrible power over the world as any can plainly see.” At this, Cloud ceased his endless roiling, calming somewhat as he laughed with only a little cruelty at this. “The greatest thing in the universe? Ridiculous! I’m not even my own master – I go wherever the wind drives me. See that? Even now, I’m being moved along to the next place and soon I shall dissolve into nothing thanks to Wind’s constant buffeting and blowing. Go talk to him about being your son-in-law and leave me be!”
At least this time, Father Mole didn’t have to hike out somewhere else. He just waited until Wind had cleared out the rest of the stormy Cloud to make his proposal. He once again described his daughter’s beauty and many accomplishments (I have no idea what those are or even how old she’s supposed to be at this point) before asking Wind to marry his only child. As we have seen before, the forces of nature are not nearly as haughty and prideful as Mole expects them to be. For his part, Wind was quite modest, almost bashful in fact. “Me? The greatest thing in the universe? Oh heavens no! I’m just a bunch of hot air. I mean, look at me! I can smash into the great stone face of Mireuk and not even make it blink. I roar in his ears, but he doesn’t even notice. I blow up his nose and he doesn’t even sniffle, let alone sneeze. No matter how hard I dash myself against him, he never stops smiling. I certainly cannot be the greatest thing in the universe while Mireuk stands. Try asking him, maybe.”
By now, Father Mole was not only exhausted and footsore, he was also deeply discouraged. He’d been so certain of his plan at the outset, but each new refusal had dimmed his optimism. All of the natural phenomena he had approached seemed appreciative of his daughter, but none seemed to think themselves worthy. More likely, they were trying to spare his feelings and just had no interest in marrying a mortal mole that they’d never met, but Father Mole has a fairly large ego so he can’t even consider that possibility. Thus he was beginning to wonder if he would ever be able to find any groom at all for his beloved child.
He rested up for a bit and then set out for the enormous stone carving. It towered far, far above his tiny form, head lost in the clouds, but he knew that the colossus always had ears to hear those who would speak to it. He squeaked out his compliments and a short version of his travels, explaining that the other natural phenomena had led him here to Mireuk as the greatest thing in the universe. He then presented his daughter’s case, extolling at great length on her beauty, goodness, and many nameless accomplishments. In all honesty, Father Mole spoke boorishly long. If it were not for the stony patience of the carved statue, anyone else would have told the little mammal to fuck off long before he got around to actually explaining why he was here.
“It is true that, as the others have said, I am great. The brightness or darkness of the Sky matters little to me. I fear not the Sun as he can neither melt me nor burn me away. Likewise the frost in his absence cannot crumble me away.” Speaking as an engineer here, that’s definitely not true (the freeze thaw cycle is one of the most destructive things to stone structures, but whatever). “Clouds come and go, but they can only hide me for a time, they cannot move me. Their fire and noise and lightning and thunder, I fear not. Yes, I am indeed great.” Father Mole sighed. Here at last was someone willing to admit to his own greatness and not downplay it in favor of some other natural force. “Indeed you are, great Stone One. So will you marry my daughter then?”
There was a long pause as Mireuk thought about it. “Alas, I cannot. I am great, true, but I am not the greatest. Down in the soil beneath my feet live the Mole. He digs and burrows with his shovel-like paws, undermining my stability day and night. It is a power I cannot resist and one day I shall topple down to lie like the common stones of the earth. If you seek the greatest thing in the universe, then seek out the Mole, who is greater than me.” Which was a long, frustrating way to go to end up back where you had started. Of course, sometimes it’s about the journey and not the destination. Father Mole now had a much greater appreciation for his own kind and thus allowed his daughter to marry a young, handsome mole that she had fancied the whole time anyway. The wedding was joyful and attended by all of the natural phenomena who Father Mole had propositioned to be the bridegroom. Just as friends, you understand. And the young mole couple lived happily ever after.
This is one of those story tropes that pops up multiple times in multiple cultures. Our last encounter with it was a Japanese story about a rat who goes through a very similar set of encounters before coming to the same conclusion that his own kind are, by some measures at least, the greatest thing in the universe. It is highly likely that these two stories influenced each other, especially given the proximity and the history of Korea and Japan. It just goes to show you that some things, like proud papas making things that should be about their kids into something that is actually about their own egos, are pretty universal.
That’s it for this episode of Myths Your Teacher Hated. Keep up with new episodes on our Facebook page, on iTunes, on TuneIn, on Vurbl, and on Spotify, or you can follow us on Instagram as MythsYourTeacherHatedPod, on Tumblr as MythsYourTeacherHated, and on Bluesky as MythsPodcast. You can also find news and episodes on our website at myths your teacher hated dot com. If you have any questions, any gods or monsters you’d want to learn about, or any ideas for future stories that you’d like to hear, feel free to drop me a line. I’m trying to pull as much material from as many different cultures as possible, but there are all sorts of stories I’ve never heard, so suggestions are appreciated. The theme music is by Tiny Cheese Puff.
Episode 6 of Saturday Morning Roleplay is out now, the third part in a new, exciting mystery of the plucky teen detectives slash magicians of Abe Kadabra’s traveling magic show. Follow them and their cowardly white tiger Cato as they investigate the mystery of the fabled Gatorman. As a reminder, this show is an actual-play tabletop roleplaying podcast using a variety of game systems to tell stories inspired by our favorite cartoons. All episodes are safe for work, rated TVPG for cartoon violence and rare mild language. Check it out on Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts. And if you could, please leave a positive review or comment on your app of choice and tell your friends about us. This is still a very new show, so reviews and word of mouth recommendations make all the difference.
Next time, we’ll head back to medieval England for another tale of the legendary King Arthur. You’ll see that you can’t trust rich nobles, that common folk can turn the tide of battle, and that a serial king killer stalks the land. Then, in Gods and Monsters, a man who lives in a vinegar bottle will somehow make worse financial decisions than living in a glass bottle. That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.