Episode 185 – Say My Name – Myths Your Teacher Hated

Episode 185 Show Notes

Source: German Folklore

This week on MYTH, it’s a listener request story. You’ll learn that you shouldn’t claim your kids have superpowers they don’t have, that kings are greedy, and that the fae strike a hard bargain. Then, in Gods and Monsters, a tricksy water spirit will kidnap some unlucky children. 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 185, “Say My Name”. As always, this episode is not safe for work.
Princess Dream Actress requested this one on Spotify, and it’s a little surprising that we haven’t already discussed one of the more famous fairy tales – Rumpelstiltskin. It’s a classic, with adaptations and homages appearing in all kinds of modern media. As is so often the case, the story that we’re all familiar with comes from the everpresent Brothers Grimm. There were actually three versions of this story printed by the Grimms, so we’ll be using one of the later, more expansive versions – specifically the version translated by Alice Lucas in 1909.
Once upon a time, there lived a miller in a small town. He was very poor but he had his daughter to keep him company and so he was happy anyway. As usual, the mother is nowhere to be found with no explanation. Insert your favorite tragic death backstory here. Also as usual, the daughter is incredibly beautiful so that we know that her heart is pure and we should root for her. Remember kids, pretty people are just better than you. Anywho, the miller found himself being summoned to an audience with the king. The reason for this is not explained, but I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess that it had something to do with the local mills.
As you might expect from a poor peasant, the miller wasn’t used to speaking with the high and mighty and he was mighty nervous about it. When it was finally his turn to speak with the king, he blurted out ‘I have a daughter who can spin gold out of straw’. He was trying to give himself an air of importance and mystery. Unfortunately, it was also a bald-faced lie. Given that these characters live in a fairy tale world however, this absurd statement isn’t immediately laughed at as impossible. As the miller had intended, the king was very impressed with the importance and mystery of the apparent alchemical prodigy living in his kingdom. He was also used to people lying to try and impress him, so he didn’t take it at face value. “Such a talent is of great interest both to myself and to the kingdom. If your daughter truly does possess this powerful skill, bring her to my castle tomorrow and we’ll put her to the test.” Well, fuck.
The miller realized that he’d really stepped in it now, but he hadn’t left himself any way to back out without upsetting the king. If he were a good and honest man, he would have owned up to his lie, admitted his mistake, and thrown himself on the mercy of the court. Instead, he packed up his daughter the next morning and brought her to the castle to attempt something he knew damned well that she couldn’t do. Now it would be her head on the block for his lie. Father of the year, right there.
I don’t know if he didn’t bother telling his supposedly beloved daughter what was up before they got to the castle or if she was just so dutiful and devoted that she went anyway to keep her lying-ass father safe, but either way she went without complaint. The king smiled at their arrival. He had half expected them to vanish in the night to avoid the consequences of an empty boast. Instead, here was the young woman in question so maybe the claim was true after all. The daughter was brought to a chamber in the castle (I prefer to imagine a tower but that’s just the romantic in me). The floor inside was completely covered in straw. The only other thing was a spinning wheel and a winder for the young woman to complete her impossible task. “You will be kept here until tomorrow at dawn. If, by that time, you have not spun this straw into gold as your father promised you could, then you shall be executed.” And he left, locking the door behind him.
I don’t know if this was an especially harsh interpretation of some actual law or if this particular king is just a murder-happy dick, but either way the young woman was royally screwed. For the life of her, the miller’s daughter hadn’t the faintest idea of how to even begin this impossible feat. She made an attempt, but couldn’t even spin the straw through the spinning wheel, let alone change it into gold. She soon gave it up as hopeless and collapsed in a corner, weeping for her imminent doom.
The door to the woman’s cell suddenly sprang open, terrifying her. Surely it wasn’t already dawn! She wasn’t ready to die! But standing in the open doorway was not the king or his executioner, it was the tiny figure of an adult man. The story doesn’t say exactly how tiny he was, but it was clear at first glance that he was no human – he was some kind of magical creature, a fairy or an imp. I’m gonna call him an imp for convenience, but the story doesn’t actually specify. He bowed politely to the startled woman, noting that fresh tears still ran down her cheeks. “Good evening, Mistress Miller. Whatever is the matter? Why are you weeping all alone in this locked room?”
Since she had less than twelve hours to live, the young woman saw no reason not to be completely honest with this stranger. “My father promised that I could spin straw into gold for the king, but I have no earthly idea how to do such an impossible thing! I’ve tried and tried, but I just can’t do it. No one can!” The imp smiled at her, showing maybe a few too many teeth. “I wouldn’t say that. I know the trick to spinning straw into gold. If I do this for you, what will you give me in return?” In this as in many stories of the fae, they always strike bargains and deals. These tend to be kept to the letter but almost always end up drawing unwary mortals deeper and deeper until they find themselves bargaining away things they don’t actually want to part with. The young woman thought for a second. She didn’t have much of any real value, but she did have a necklace. I presume that it is either an heirloom from her missing mother or else a gift from her not-in-mortal peril father, but the story as usual doesn’t clarify where a poor miller’s daughter got something even that valuable. “Will you accept my necklace as payment?” The imp smiled and held out a hand for the jewelry. “Done and done.”
He inspected the trinket with a critical, expert eye before pocketing it. Then he walked briskly over to the spinning wheel, took a handful of straw, and began to run it through the wheel. Whir, whir, whir it went and, in the twinkling of an eye, the reel was full of golden thread. He replaced the full reel with an empty one and continued the practiced motions of spinning. Each reel took three turns to fill it completely before being replaced with a fresh one. This went on until morning and, shortly before dawn, all of the straw had been turned to gold. All of the reels were full and not a single piece of yellow straw was left in the locked room.
There was a sudden commotion at the door as the king returned to pronounce his judgment on the task. The miller’s daughter looked over at it, startled, then turned back to thank her mysterious, nameless, and clearly magical benefactor. The room was empty though, save for herself and the reels full of gold. She hadn’t seen him leave and there was no other way out of this room but the locked door, yet the imp was gone all the same. The young woman shuddered then got herself together. It had been a long night that, even with the incredible magical assistance she had received, had been hard on her nerves. She knew enough not to let them see her sweat, and so she was calm and poised when the door finally opened.
The king stepped in and looked around, surprise and delight evident on his face. Both were quickly replaced with naked avarice shining bright in his eyes. “It seems that your father spoke truly. Incredible! Well if you can do it once, then surely you can do it again – this way.” He led her from the chamber to another, larger room that was otherwise identical to the first, right down to being stuffed full of straw. I can understand having the first chamber prepared for the trial, but this second room already being set up seems unlikely. And yes, I’m nit picking in a story with magic creatures and working alchemy. “Perform your miracle a second time, young woman. Have all of this straw turned to gold by dawn or you will be executed for your failure.” Which is even more bullshit the second time around. At least someone had agreed to the terms the first time around, even if the person whose life was actually on the line hadn’t been consulted. This dude sucks.
The miller’s daughter was again left alone with an enormous tower filled with straw, a loom, and not the faintest clue how to get started on saving her own life. She knew now that it was possible, but that didn’t mean that she had any idea how to do it herself. The strange imp had made it seem so simple. She sat down at the loom and tried to mimic what she could remember of his movements, but it was in vain. Clearly there was something supernatural about the transformation that she simply couldn’t replicate. Giving up, the young woman began to weep again. What were the odds of receiving a deus ex machina to stave off her execution a second time? She didn’t know what had drawn the fae the first time, so she couldn’t even try to summon him to help.
And yet the door banged open once more and through it stepped the little imp anyhow. Perhaps he had anticipated the king’s bullshit. Perhaps he was simply drawn to human misery. Whatever the reason, he had come to pull her ass out of the proverbial fire again. “Hello again, Mistress Miller. I doubt that I need to explain my whole schtick a second time, so I’ll cut to the chase. What will you give me in exchange for spinning the straw in this room into gold like I did the one last night?” She had even less of value now having already traded away her necklace. The only thing of any material worth she had left in the world was the small ring on her finger. Another heirloom presumably but, as usual, there’s no explanation for why such a poor young woman from such a poor family has so much jewelry. “Will you accept the ring from my finger as payment?”
He inspected the trinket with a critical, expert eye before pocketing it. Then he walked briskly over to the spinning wheel, took a handful of straw, and began to run it through the wheel. Whir, whir, whir it went and, in the twinkling of an eye, the reel was full of golden thread. His motions were as smooth and practiced as ever. Although each reel still took three turns to fill and he didn’t seem to be moving with any special haste, by morning the straw had all been turned to gold.
As the sun rose, there was a sudden commotion at the door as the king returned to pronounce his judgment on the task. The miller’s daughter looked over at it, startled, then turned back to thank her mysterious, nameless, and clearly magical benefactor. The room was once again empty though, save for herself and the reels full of gold. She hadn’t seen him leave and there was no other way out of this room but the locked door, yet the imp was gone all the same. She had expected his impossible exit this time, so she was calm and ready as the king entered. There was no surprise in his expression this time, only giddyness and a naked hunger for more gold than any man needed. He now had enough treasure from the last two nights to make his kingdom one of the wealthiest in the world for generations, but it was not enough. For the rich, it never is.
The king smiled at the miller’s daughter and her heart dropped into her stomach. Surely not – surely he wouldn’t threaten her with death for a third time when she had already provided him with so much impossible gold! Even the king realized that it would cross some sort of line for him to demand another hoard of gold without offering something in return. To do so would make him no better than a common highway robber. He led her from the chamber and she was not at all surprised to find that he led her not to the main gate but to a third chamber, even larger than the other two combined, that was predictably filled with straw. “Perform your miracle a third time, young woman. Have all of this straw turned to gold by dawn or you will be executed for your failure. If you succeed however, you will be my wife and my queen.” As he locked the door behind himself, the king mused ‘even if she is nothing but a common miller’s daughter, I’ll never find a richer woman in all the world to be my bride.”
In some ways, I suppose wealth and power are indeed a great boon to offer in exchange for the woman’s theoretical labor; on the other hand, the king is a real bastard, so I don’t envy this poor woman for having to be his wife. What’s to stop him from demanding this service whenever he wants for the rest of her life? Still it was better than the fatal alternative, so the young woman leaned against a wall and waited for the magical imp to make an appearance. Once she was well and truly alone, the door again swung open to reveal the little fae. “It would seem that the third time’s the charm, Mistress Miller. Same offer as before – what will you give me in exchange for spinning the straw in this room into gold like I did the last two nights?”
The young woman searched herself for some third bauble to offer, but came up short. The story finally remembered that she’s supposed to be poor, and so she had no third valuable to offer for the imp’s service. She bowed her head, renewed terror thumping in her chest. “I have nothing more I can offer, sir. My family is poor – that necklace and that ring were all I had in the world.” The imp nodded as though he had expected this answer. “You have no jewelry, ‘tis true, but don’t sell yourself short. I know of something you can offer in exchange for my magical service – promise me your firstborn child if you should become Queen.”
The miller’s daughter paused at this. It was easy enough to give up simple material wealth in exchange for her life, but offering up her own future child? It was unthinkable! It was monstrous! She calmed herself. It was also the only way. She had proved well enough the last two nights that she couldn’t spin straw into gold herself and she had every reason to believe that the king would carry through on his threat of execution if she failed, nevermind that she had already passed his test twice. “I suppose I have no choice, sir. I so promise.” Smiling wide enough to show all of his teeth, the imp sat down at the loom and got to work. Again he seemed to move at the identical unhurried pace but, by dawn, all of the straw had once more been spun into gold. She was saved!
As had happened twice before, the king returned at dawn and, in her momentary distraction, the little imp vanished. With all the poise she could muster, the miller’s daughter faced her captor and potential husband. He looked around at the gold heaped around the room, thrilled to find everything exactly as he had wished. True to his word, the king took the young woman’s hand and led her from the room to begin planning their wedding. In short order, the two were married and the poor miller’s daughter had become a very rich queen.
Fortunately, the king seemed happy with the three massive heaps of gold that his new bride had provided as her unwitting dowry and did not demand more spun gold. The next year passed in relative peace and harmony. This being a royal wedding, the couple got busy with the sex right away to produce a royal heir. Thus it was that the young Queen gave birth to a beautiful baby who immediately became the light of her life. One night, while the queen was alone in her chambers with her child, the door burst open and in walked the little imp. She had nearly forgotten the bargain she had made that third night but, at the fae’s appearance, it all came rushing back. He was here for her baby. “A deal is a deal, your majesty. Give me what was promised.”
The young mother burst into terrified tears. She hadn’t really wanted to make the deal in the first place, but the only other choice had been death. Now that she was confronted with paying up, she found she couldn’t do it. “I know what I promised, but the price is too high. Please, take anything else. Take everything else! Take all the gold in the treasury, take the silk sheets and feather pillows! Take the fine gowns and sparkling jewelry. Take anything you please, all the treasures of the world!” The little imp shook his head. “I am sorry, your majesty, but we had a bargain. I don’t want the treasures of the world, I want a living child.” The queen burst into fresh weeping, moaning with despair.
It was such a heart-wrenching display that even the little fae was moved to pity. “A bargain was struck, your highness, but I will give you one last chance. You have three days. If you can discover my name in that time, you may keep the child. If not, then the baby is mine and no amount of tears will stay my hand a second time.” With a courtly bow, the fae left the queen alone with her child and her racing thoughts. She racked her brain for every name she had ever heard in her entire life which, as you can imagine, was an incredibly long list. She also summoned a messenger to go forth into the kingdom and discover every name he could, especially the more obscure ones.
The next night, the little imp reappeared in her chamber. “Have you discovered my name?” “Casper? Melchoir? Balzer?” began the queen as she went down her very long list. Once she had finished her recitation of every name she had been able to dredge up, she looked at the little fae hopefully. That hope was promptly dashed as he slowly shook his head. “No, your majesty. Those are not my name. I’ll be back tomorrow.” And he left.
The queen searched the royal library for any weird or obscure names she had missed and had her servants journey to the neighboring kingdoms for any names there that were unique and unusual. Names that were only given to pets. Names that people half-remembered from dreams. That night, the imp returned again for another round of names. “Perhaps you are Cowribs? Spindleshanks? Spiderlegs?” The queen went through the entire second list of bizarre names that she had accumulated. She looked up at the end of her recitation, tears welling in her eyes. The fae shook his head again. “No, none of those are my name either. If you cannot discover it before tomorrow night, I will be leaving with the child. Until then, your majesty.” And he left.
The next day, the messenger that had been sent out returned. He was hurriedly ushered into a private audience with the queen. He bowed deeply. “I am sorry, your majesty. I haven’t been able to find any new names. I did have a strange encounter though. I don’t know if it’s relevant but it’s the only thing I learned so I’ll let you decide. As I was traveling, I came around a bend in the trail through the woods on the slope of a lofty mountain. A wild, distant place where the fox says good night to the hare (and I’m not entirely sure what that phrase means exactly). There, I saw a little house with a fire burning out front. Around the flames leapt an indescribably strange little man, hopping around on one foot and singing shrilly. “‘Today I bake, tomorrow I brew my beer, and the next day I will bring the Queen’s child here. Ah, lucky it is that not a soul doth know that Rumpelstilskin is my name! Ho ho!’ Or something like that.”
The Queen immediately recognized that this was the break she had been desperately waiting for. I sure hope that she handsomely rewarded this messenger for his good work. That night, she waited in her chamber for the third and final appearance of the little imp, hoping that she wasn’t about to fall prey to a fairy trick. As the house settled, her door opened and in walked the strange little fae. “I’ll ask thee one last time and done, your majesty. What’s my name?” The Queen tapped her chin and stared into the middle distance as though deep in thought. “There aren’t many names I haven’t already tried. Are you Tom?” The little man shook his head. “Dick perhaps?” “I am not.” “Well then. Is it perhaps Rumpelstiltskin?”
The imp froze. “Where did you hear that name!” Glee melted off his face, replaced with fury. “No one knew that name – the Devil himself must have told you! The Devil told you my name!” Shrieking his rage, Rumpelstiltskin stamped his foot into the ground with such force that he sank into the earth up to his waist. He barely seemed to notice the tiny devastation. Still ranting and raving, he grabbed his left leg with both hands and, muscles straining, tore himself in half.
And that’s how the story ends. I’m not sure what the lesson here is supposed to be, if there even is one. Making deals with the fae is always a bad idea, but it’s not like the miller’s daughter had any real choice and it wasn’t her bad decision that landed her in mortal peril. The one takeaway I see, other than recognizing the power of names, is not to trust that those in authority have your best interests at heart. Literally everyone was out to use the poor miller’s daughter for their own gain with no concern for her health or happiness. It’s truly a tale as old as time: men suck, the rich are dangerous, and the powerful misuse their power. And so, with the royal child safe, 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 monster is the nixie.
The nixie is a shapeshifting water spirit in Germanic mythology and folklore. It often appears as human, at least at first, though they often appear as river merpeople. Mermen are known as nixes and mermaids are nixies. As with many water spirits, who serve as a warning on the dangers of wild bodies of water, the nixies often try to lure people into the water to drown. When in human form, the only give away is that the hems of their clothes will always be wet. They are commonly said to love music, dancing, and mischief, though any mortals able to see these performances are usually drawn into the water after the music, much like the sirens of Greek mythology.
The Brothers Grimm had a tale of a water nixie, and we’ll be using the translation from D. L. Ashliman in 2002. Two young children, a brother and a sister, were playing together one day. Their game took them across the village towards a well. They were not as careful as they should have been and so they both fell in and were trapped. But they were not alone. The well was home to a water nixie, who smiled at this sudden bounty from the heavens (and one she might possibly have helped engineer, though the story gives no indication). “Well now, what have we here? Two mortal children, huh? You’re in my world now, not your world, and you belong to me. From now on, you will do as I say, toiling diligently at whatever I tell you to.” With a predatory grin, she led the children away into the darkness.
The girl was given tangled, dirty flax to spin as well as a bottomless barrel that she was to fill with water. The boy was set to chopping down trees with a dull axe. Both were given nothing but dumplings as hard and unappetizing as rocks to eat at the end of each day of hard labor. Their new life was back-breakingly difficult and mind-numbingly tedious, so they quickly decided to escape the nixie. They waited until Sunday, when the nixie was, for reasons I can’t begin to comprehend, at church. While she was thus occupied, they ran away.
When the church service was over, the nixie returned to her lair to discover that her two little birds had flown the coop. With a hunter’s easy grace, she set off after them, following their trail with long strides. The children had run away as far and as fast as they could, but they knew that the nixie wouldn’t simply let them go. Sure enough, they soon spied her loping after them in the distance. The girl threw a brush over her shoulder. As it hit the ground, it transformed into a huge brush mountain bristling without thousands upon thousands of wicked spikes. The nixie was forced to slow her pursuit considerably to make her careful way through the thick barrier but she did and picked the chase up again.
When the children saw that she was on the hunt once more, the boy tossed a comb over his shoulder. As it hit the ground, it transformed into a massive comb mountain bristling with thousands upon thousands of jagged teeth. Again, the nixie slowed her pursuit to clamber carefully through, but the obstacle only slowed her temporarily. In due time, she was on their trail once more. The children saw their captor following them yet again, and pulled out their last and greatest trick. The little girl threw her mirror over her shoulder. As it hit the ground, it transformed into a towering mirror mountain, its glass peaks far too steep and slippery to climb (though the nixie made an attempt or two before giving up).
The water spirit considered her options. She wasn’t ready to lose her child slaves just yet, and she couldn’t go over the mountain. She decided she had two options – go around it and risk losing the trail or go through it. “I’ll head back home, get my axe, and split this glass mountain in two. That’s faster and much more badass.” And so she did. The trip took time and hacking through a literal mountain of glass took much, much more. She finally made it through but, by then, the children had long since fled to safety. They were out of her reach now. Frustrated, the nixie had to trudge back to her well all alone.
First of all, why the fuck do these kids have magic toiletries? There is literally nothing in the story that gives so much as a whiff of an explanation. Did they steal these from the nixie? Did they just happen to have magical artifacts on them while playing? Do all German children secretly have this power? No way to know, really. But if you ever hear mysterious music coming from a well or other body of water, maybe don’t follow in after it.
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 catch up with our favorite Latvian hero for the next part of the Bearslayer saga. You’ll see that nothing good happens after midnight, that you shouldn’t get drunk with a priest, and that lordlings are not to be trusted. Then, in Gods and Monsters, two friends are going to have very different ideas of how to combat the male loneliness epidemic. That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.