Episode 182 – Uncut Gems – Myths Your Teacher Hated

Episode 182 Show Notes

Source: French Folklore

This week on MYTH, we’re journeying to the French countryside for a sisterly fable. You’ll learn that fairies may not have a clear grasp on what a gift is, that no good deed goes unpunished, and that jealousy can sometimes be a literal snake in the grass. Then, in Gods and Monsters, a tricksy fox will try to become a deadly wolf. 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 182, “Uncut Gems”. As always, this episode is not safe for work.
This week’ s story comes from Charles Perrault, a French author who is widely considered to have created the fairy tale from the older folktales. He was a major inspiration on the Brothers Grimm a century later. This story comes from The Tales of Mother Goose from 1696, using the frame narrative (naturally) of Mother Goose. Yes, that Mother Goose. Some of his tales, including Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty, are still traditionally told very close to his original versions or else on the Grimm adaptations, even these many centuries later. As such, these tales were intended for an adult audience, hence the darker themes and more adult subject matter.
Once upon a time (which is actually how this tale starts), there lived a widow and her two daughters. The elder of the two girls was very like her mother in both looks and character. Everyone who saw them together remarked on the resemblance. This was a compliment when it came to their mutual appearance: the elder daughter and her mother were both very attractive women in their own right, but it was a distant sort of beauty, like that of a statue. When it came to their dispositions on the other hand, this comparison was very much an insult. Both women were so haughty, cruel, and just plain awful that no one wanted to be around them for very long at all. The younger daughter was their polar opposite. She took after her father, both in looks and temperament. She was sweet, kind, and friendly with everyone she met, making her much better liked than the other two women of her family. It didn’t hurt that she was every bit as beautiful as they, but in a wholesome, approachable way that put people at ease.
Everyone loved the younger daughter except for her own family. Her mother made no secret of the fact that her elder daughter was her favorite, and by a wide margin. She was deeply self-centered, of course, so like Narcissus staring into his own reflection, the mother loved seeing a miniature version of herself wandering around. It likely also helped quiet that tiny twinge of guilt that maybe she was being an asshole – the two of them fed off each other and reassured one another that it was everyone else who was wrong. The mother didn’t just favor her elder daughter either – she actively disliked her younger daughter and treated her more like a servant than like her own child, and an abused one at that. The elder daughter followed her mother’s lead, bullying her sister both to win her mother’s affection and out of jealousy that the rest of the town liked her better. Like her spiritual counterpart Cinderella, she was forced to eat in the kitchen and work her fingers to the bone in service to the rest of her family.
One of her many, many chores was the fetching of water twice a day. This doesn’t sound so very terrible until you learn that the nearest well was a mile and a half from the house. She was expected to hurry hither and yon with a pitcher to retrieve the water for everyone else’s use, with whatever was left over (and whatever she could gulp down at the well) for herself. One day, the younger daughter had just finished up the first half of her morning run and was heading back with a full pitcher of water. The day was already growing hot and so the sooner she could get home, the easier the trip would be. She paused as a voice called out to her from behind. “Dearie, would you be so kind as to share your water with an old woman? I’ve shuffled my old bones out to the well for a drink only to find I have nothing to draw water with.”
The younger daughter didn’t even hesitate. “Of course, Goodie,” a short version of goodwife and used as an all-purpose honorific. “I’m more than happy to help out a person in need.” She hurried back, dumped out the water, wiped down the pitcher to be as clean as possible, and drew up fresh water from the clearest spot in the well. This she offered to the old woman, helping her to raise the heavy vessel to her lips. The old woman drank deeply, sighing with contentment when she was finished. As you might have guessed, this old woman was no woman at all but a fairy in disguise. She was wandering the countryside in the form of a poor country woman to see if this pretty young girl had basic manners and civility, much like the Greek gods of old. “My dear, thank you for helping an old woman. You are so good and so courteous, especially for one so pretty, that I think you deserve a gift for aiding me.” Power twinkled in the old woman’s eye, hinting at the truth of what she was, but the young girl maintained her polite and friendly demeanor. “From this day hence, every word you speak shall be accompanied by either a beautiful flower or a glittering jewel.”
To be honest, that actually sounds damned inconvenient in a very King Midas sort of way, but at least it doesn’t put anyone in danger or keep her from eating I suppose. With a curtsy, silent and in awe of this obviously powerful figure, the young woman refilled her pitcher and hurried home. This whole exchange hadn’t taken long at all, but the girl’s mother had no tolerance for even seconds longer than she felt this chore should take. The elder woman harangued her daughter for being such a cruel, thoughtless, rude child as to waste time at the well while her family was practically dying of thirst. It was a wild exaggeration and a hell of a lot of verbal abuse that she definitely didn’t deserve. She didn’t try to defend herself though. The youngest daughter knew that only bowing her head in shame and apologizing for these imagined slights would have any hope of stemming the tide of shouting and insults. “I humbly beg your pardon, mamma, for being so slow with the water. I should have hurried faster.”
As the poor girl spoke, her first words since the so-called blessing of the fairy, a magnificent rose, a pair of milk-white pearls, and a pair of enormous diamonds fell from her lips. On the plus side, it didn’t seem to interfere with her ability to speak at all, which is a handy bit of magic. The poor girl stared at the items that had poured impossibly forth at her apology, and her mother stared even harder, fresh insults dying in her throat at her amazement. “What…what is all this? Did roses, diamonds, and pearls just fall out of your mouth? How is that even possible, my child?” The youngest daughter stared at her mother, even more amazed than she had been by the jewels and flower. Never in her life had her mother called her ‘my child’ before. That honor was reserved exclusively for her elder sister until this very moment. She quickly regained her composure and, being dutiful in all things, quickly relayed the entire story of her encounter at the well. It wasn’t a terribly long story, all things considered, but there was still a sizable heap of flowers and uncut gems heaped around her feet by the time she was done. Already, she had amassed a small fortune with nothing but the sound of her voice.
The mother listened with rapt attention (which the younger daughter was definitely basking in). When the tale had finished, her eyes were as big as saucers as they took in the riches heaped at her daughter’s feet. She too had realized that this supposed ‘old woman’ was nothing of the sort and must in fact be a powerful fairy since the old gods weren’t around to do this kind of thing anymore. “That is an incredible tale, an impossible tale. If I didn’t have the indisputable proof right here between us, I’d call you a liar. This is a wonder, child – a miracle that I must hurry to see that my beloved daughter also benefits from. Fanny, come here and see what comes out of your sister’s mouth when she speaks! Wouldn’t it be wonderful for you to have the same gift? Think of what you could achieve with that on top of all your inherent charms and beauty! All you have to do is walk down to the well, draw water out, and when a poor woman asks you for a drink, give it to her politely. If your sister can manage it, then this should be easy peasy for someone as wonderful as you, my dear beloved Fanny.”
The elder daughter – Fanny, apparently – stared at the pile of diamonds and assorted jewels heaped at her sister’s feet then at her mother. “You want me to walk all the way to the fucking fountain in this miserable goddamned heat? Fuck you. No way you’ll catch me doing that shit.” Their mother’s face hardened. She is every bit as stubborn as her daughter, remember. “That was my fault – I made it sound like I was asking you if you wanted to go. I’m not asking, Fanny; I’m fucking telling you to walk your ass down to the motherfucking fountain right the hell now! And keep a civil goddamned tongue in your head you lazy bitch! Now!”
Grumbling and cursing, Fanny did so. She was selfish and lazy, but she was also aware that her mother could make her life miserable if she wanted to. She was rarely made to do anything she didn’t want to, but this was clearly one of those infrequent exceptions. Taking the best silver tankard in the house (the plain one her sister had used wasn’t good enough, apparently), she made the long, hot walk to the well. By the time she arrived, she was even more foul-tempered than usual, which was saying something. Still grumbling and complaining under her breath, Fanny drew up water in the silver tankard.
No sooner had she filled it than she saw movement coming from the woods. Only instead of a poor country woman, the figure appearing from the forest was a magnificently dressed lady in court finery. She looked like a princess, but her bearing was regal enough for a queen. She approached the young woman and asked her for a drink of water. It was, of course, the very same fairy as before in a new guise. She was curious just how far this foul-tempered and ill-mannered girl’s rudeness might extend.
Fanny had been prepared for the fairy to be a poor woman in humble rags, and she was ready to force herself to be as polite as possible through gritted teeth. This noblelady on the other hand was not part of the plan. She was extremely rude but not all that clever, so she didn’t hold her tongue. “And I suppose that I walked all this way in the goddamned heat to serve some fancy bitch her water because she’s too important to fetch her own? I suppose that you assume that anything made of silver is yours, so I must be your serving wench since I’ve got a silver tankard? Fuck you, bitch.” She sighed heavily. “I suppose that letting you drink will make this fucking thing lighter for my trip back, so you can have some I guess but only if you walk your ass over to me. I’m not waiting on some random forest princess for shits and giggles.”
The fairy nodded without anger as though this was exactly the outcome she had expected. “You truly are a rude child, aren’t you? I suppose you came here to try and capitalize on your sister’s good nature and take a gift you don’t deserve. And even forewarned as you were, you couldn’t be polite for one brief interaction with a stranger. Very well. You shall have a gift, but not the one that was bestowed on your sister. No, you shall receive one more fitting for your disposition. Whenever you speak from now on, at every word you say, a snake or toad shall pour forth from your foul mouth.” And with that, the fairy vanished.
Crying but afraid to speak, Fanny rushed home to her mother. No word on whether she remembered to bring the pitcher back with her or not, but I wouldn’t blame her in this instance. Her mother looked up with an expectant smile as her daughter approached, but it faded as she caught sight of her horrified expression. “What happened, my dear child? Did you find the fairy?” “What do you think, mother?” retorted the unhappy girl, throwing a poisonous viper and a very annoyed toad from her mouth as she did so. Fanny’s mother was overcome with grief at this awful curse that had befallen her most beloved child. Wanna take bets on her reaction? A reasonable person would perhaps try to comfort her daughter and maybe talk to her about being kinder to strangers, especially when you know that there’s a fairy lurking about. Perhaps they could commiserate together about the cruelty of fairies, or the mother could apologize for sending her daughter out to do a thing she’d been very clear about not wanting to do.
Unfortunately, Fanny took after her mother, so she picked option D – blame the other daughter for causing this whole mess. Mind you, all the younger daughter did was obey her mother’s demands and be polite to a stranger. Unfortunately, her family wanted someone to blame, and she was their usual punching bag. “How dare you trick your sister into such a cruel situation! This is all your fault, you little bitch! You caused this misery for your sweet sister, but you’ll pay, I swear it.” And she moved swiftly to carry out this vow of undeserved vengeance, rushing over to beat the ever loving shit out of her younger daughter who, again, did literally nothing wrong. Terrified and in great pain, the poor child fled her family and her home. She ran into the forest and hid, afraid of just how much punishment her mother had in mind.
She lost her mother’s pursuit (she was every bit as lazy as her awful elder daughter, fortunately) and sat cowering in the underbrush and weeping softly. As it so happened, the king’s son was coincidentally out in that very same forest hunting that morning. His path back home took him by the place where the poor abused girl was shivering and crying. The prince was a kind-hearted young man, and he took pity on this beautiful but wretched young woman. “Are you okay, my lady? Why are you out here in the forest all alone and weeping? What has happened to make someone so beautiful so sad?” She stood hurriedly, drying her eyes and trying to find the proper poise for addressing obvious nobility. “Alas, sir, my mother has kicked me out of the house.” This is an extremely mild version of what actually happened, but the gentle young woman didn’t want to speak ill of her mother even after all that she had been through.
Of course, at her words a half dozen pearls and as many diamonds poured forth from her lips to lay sparkling in the dappled forest light. “Okay, that is one of the strangest and yet most intriguing things I have ever seen in my life. If you don’t mind, I would love to hear the whole story of what happened. Why do flowers and jewels spill forth when you speak? Why were you turned out?” At his gentle coaxing, the young woman told him her story. It was the first time that anyone had ever really listened to her, and she found that telling her story to this kind, handsome young man helped her feel a whole lot better.
Over the course of their conversation, the prince fell in love with her. He could plainly see how kind and gentle she was and how generous to those around her. She wasn’t nobility, but with the fairy’s gift, she could provide a dowry literally fit for a king. The prince was certain he could convince his father to let him follow his heart in this matter. Thus, he convinced her to come with him to the palace. It wasn’t terribly hard since she didn’t have anywhere else to stay but out in the wilderness. It didn’t take long at all for her to fall for the prince in turn, for he was every bit as good and gentle as she. His father the king quickly saw how fine a wife and queen this kind young woman would be and gave his blessing to their match. They were married in short order.
And what about the cold-hearted Fanny, who had joined in with her mother’s cruel punishment of her innocent sister? Well, her disposition didn’t improve any from having snakes and toads erupt from her mouth at every word. Her mother’s patience with her daughter’s bad mood and the constant reptile carpet wore thin. In relatively short order, she began to see Fanny in the same light that everyone else saw her in – namely, an awful, spoiled human being – though of course she didn’t see any fault of her own in this. Fanny was such a raving bitch that, eventually, her mother also kicked her out of the house to join the younger sister who had vanished as far as they were concerned. Alone, with no survival skills, and in a fouler mood than ever, Fanny wandered alone through the village. No one was willing to take her in or help her out, in large part because of the entitled, awful way she demanded it rather than asking with any humility. Bereft and abandoned, the cursed young woman wandered out into the forest and eventually died. I really hope that their mother suffered without either of her daughters to take care of her or their home, but the story doesn’t say.
This story was republished in Andrew Lang’s Blue Fairy Book under the name Diamonds and Toads, which is the title it is better known by instead of the original simple title of The Fairy. You can see how the bleak and unforgiving ending might have inspired the later Grimm Brothers’ tales. And so with the kind daughter rewarded and the cruel daughter punished, 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 animal trickster is Reynard the Fox.
Reynard is the central figure in a cycle of Dutch, English, French, and German fables from the 12th century. The clever fox’s adventures usually involve him tricking other animals and then avoiding their counter tricks all while avoiding his uncle the wolf Isengrim, his primary victim and antagonist. These original stories gave rise to a number of later stories using the popular character. This particular story comes from French writer Jean de La Fontaine (often known simply as La Fontaine). His Fables collection from the 17th century was wildly popular at the time and provided a model for modern fables. All of the stories in Fables are in verse, but I’m not going to try and mirror that structure here.
Once upon a time, Reynard the fox was sitting with his uncle Isengrim the wolf indulging in one of his favorite pastimes – complaining. “Uncle, I’m hungry! I want to eat, but getting fresh meat is such a hassle. To get a bite of lean chicken, I have to sneak past some sentry rooster and risk getting my ass pecked to death. It sucks. You’ve got it made, Uncle. Wolves don’t have to go near the villages of humans to get food, and hunting is a lot less risky for you. Me? I don’t have much choice but to sneak into their houses and barns in search of my next meal. Can you teach me how you do things? I’m a smart fox, surely I can learn how the wolves do it and make things easier for me. With your help. I bet I can be the first fox to ever take down a sheep and make a mutton meal for myself. Please, Uncle?”
Despite their frequent antagonism, the wolf loved his vulpine nephew and so consented to help immediately. “You’re in luck, Reynard. My brother just died. It would be not at all creepy for you to go cut his skin off and wear it.” That’s…just a horrifying image. Neither the fox nor the wolf was bothered by it though, so Reynard went and did as his uncle suggested. In short order, he had returned dressed in the flayed skin of his dead uncle. “Looking good, nephew! Now listen closely. As a wolf, a lot of things are going to avoid you, but you still need to be careful about the dogs that guard the flock. They won’t be scared of your wolf skin disguise.
Reynard listened attentively to everything his uncle said. He might be a prankster, but he understood when it was time to pay attention. Besides, this would be a fantastic trick if he could pull it off, and that meant being a good student for the moment. It was difficult at first. The wolf skin was awkward on his fur, tripping him up when he moved and weighing him down when he ran. In time though, he grew used to the weight and the feel of it, and his awkwardness slowly disappeared. He was very proud when Uncle Isengrim declared that Reynard’s training was over. He was ready.
Now it was time to put his schooling to the test against a real flock. The wolf knew of one that often grazed nearby, so they headed in that direction. Sure enough, the sheep were there, munching happily under the watchful eye of a shepherd and his sheepdog. In the guise of a wolf, Reynard slunk out and began to rush amongst them, nipping and biting. Such was his speed and dexterity that it seemed to the admittedly not very bright sheep that there were 50 wolves among them. They panicked, bleating desperately for their watchers to save them. The shepherd and dog were on it, quickly herding the sheep away from the field and back to the relative safety of their pen at home. In the confusion, Reynard managed to separate one of the sheep from the flock and it was left behind all by itself. Victory!
Before the fox disguised as a wolf could make the kill and feast on his first taste of mutton, a cock crowed loudly in the brush nearby. Reynard was caught completely by surprise. In that moment of panic, he forgot all of his uncle’s lessons on being a proud, deadly wolf and reverted back to the instincts of a small, easily murdered fox. Abandoning his prize to run faster, the fox fled back to his den. He didn’t much like being a wolf after all – it felt far too exposed for his tastes. And so the moral of the story (because we’ve reached the point where fables do indeed have morals spelled out) is that one can try to hide their true selves, but reality will always reassert itself. The truth will out.
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.
Next time, we’ll be bound for Australia. You’ll learn that sometimes honey can be too expensive, that you shouldn’t do surgery on a whim, and that bees and ants are related. Symbolically, at least. Then, in Gods and Monsters, we’ll meet a strange-looking bird and a prickly lizard and learn how they got that way. That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.