John Harrison: the wild wood

The Wild Wood

Woodlands and forests are special places, sometimes comfortingly enclosing, sometimes frightening. John won a year-long prestigious joint Arts Council/Academi and AHRB (Arts and Humanities Research Board) bursary to research the cultural meaning of forests, and devise new ways of teaching writing skills through direct experience and observation of the natural environment. Working with the kind assistance of Trinity College Carmarthen as the host college (special thanks to Paul Wright) John has been studying everything from ancient forestry, to happy romps through fairy tales, and hacking a path through the tangled thickets of cultural theory.

Read a forest tale:
	Little Red Riding Hood The Little Girl and the Wolf	Sir Orfeo

Little Red Riding Hood
	The tale we usually read is a genteel version of a much tougher and more feminist original, recorded all over Europe. This version was gathered in Nièvre, France, in 1885. The wolf is a werewulf, and the girl doesn't need a man, the forester inserted in later versions, to help her escape. She is a forest girl, and can take care of herself.

There was a woman who had made some bread. She said to her daughter, 'Go carry this hot loaf and bottle of milk to your granny.'
So the little girl departed. At the crossway she met bzou, the werewolf, who said to her, 'Where are you going?' 'I'm taking this hot loaf and bottle of milk to my granny.' 'What path are you taking,' said the werewolf, the path of needles or the path of pins?' 'The path of needles,' the little girl said. 'All right then, I'll take the path of pins.' The little girl entertained herself by gathering needles.
Meanwhile the werewolf arrived at the grandmother's house, killed her, put some of her meat in the cupboard and a bottle of her blood on the shelf. The little girl arrived and knocked at the door. 'Push the door,' said the werewolf, it's barred by a piece of wet straw.' 'Good day, granny. I've brought you a loaf of hot bread and a bottle of milk.' Put it in the cupboard my child. Take some of the meat which is inside and the bottle of wine on the shelf.' After she had eaten, there was a little cat which said 'Phooey!' A slut is she who eats the flesh and drinks the blood of her granny.'

'Undress yourself, my child,' the werewolf said, and come lie down beside me.' 'Where should I put my apron?'
'Throw it in the fire'
And each time she asked where she should put all her other clothes, the bodice, the dress, the petticoat, and the long stockings, the wolf responded
'Throw them into the fire, my child, you won't be needing them anymore.'

When she laid herself down in the bed, the girl said, 'Oh, Granny, how hairy you are!' 'The better to keep myself warm, my child.'
'Oh, Granny, what big nails you have!'
'The better to scratch me with, my child.' 'Oh, Granny, what shoulders you have!'
'The better to carry the firewood my child!'
'Oh, Granny, what big ears you have!'
'The better to hear you with, my child!'
'Oh, Granny, what big nostrils you have!'
'The better to snuff my tobacco with, my child!'
'Oh, Granny, what a big mouth you have!'
'The better to eat you with, my child!'
'Oh Granny, I've got to go badly. Let me outside,'
'Do it in the bed, my child!'
'Oh no, Granny, I want to go outside.'
All right, but make it quick.'
The werewolf attached a woollen rope to her foot and let her go outside. When the little girl was outside, she tied the rope to a plum tree in the courtyard. The werewolf became impatient and said, 'Are you making a load out there? Are you making a load?'
When he realised that no one was answering him, he jumped out of bed and saw that the little girl had escaped. He followed her but arrived at her house just at the moment she entered.

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Much later, American humorist, James Thurber, rewrote it in a way that took it back to its roots.

The Little Girl and the Wolf

James Thurber
1939

One afternoon a big wolf waited in a dark forest for a little girl to come along carrying a basket of food for her grandmother. Finally a little girl did come along and she was carrying a basket of food. 'Are you carrying that basket to your grandmother,' asked the wolf. The little girl said yes, she was. So the wolf asked her where her grandmother lived and the little girl told him and he disappeared into the wood.

When the little girl opened the door of her grandmother's house she saw there was somebody in bed with a nightcap on. She had approached no nearer than twenty-five feet from the bed when she saw that it was not her grandmother but the wolf, for even in a nightcap a wolf does not look any more like your grandmother than the Metro-Goldwyn-Meyer lion looks like Calvin Coolidge. So the little girl took an automatic out of her basket and shot the wolf dead.

Moral: It is not so easy to fool little girls nowadays as it used to be.

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Sir Orfeo
	Sir Orfeo is an early (around the thirteenth century) version of a classic type of folk tale. It deals with our fear that there is, deep within all of us, something uncivilised, which has to be expressed. Great tests of inner strength may bring out this wild man. This persona may be more primitive, but it has its own nobility.
Edited version of 13th century manuscript One upon a time, in the days of old, there was a king in England called Sir Orfeo. Orfeo was valiant and bold and courteous. And above all things he loved to play the harp. He played so skilfully that his hearers might well think they were listening to the harps of Paradise. Sir Orfeo had a queen called Dame Herodis, the fairest and sweetest lady who ever reigned in England. One year, early in May, on a day that was warm and merry, Dame Herodis went into an orchard with two of her maidens. The rains of winter were over, every field was full of flowers, and every bough laden with blossom. Dame Herodis and her maidens sat down under a fruit tree to listen to the birds singing. Soon the queen fell asleep, lying on the grass. Her maidens dared not wake her. They let her lie and take her rest. Dame Herodis slept for a long time. But at last she woke, and immediately she began to scream terribly. She scratched her face until it bled. She tore her rich robe. And all the time she went on screaming. Her frightened maidens ran to the palace and spread word that the queen was going out of her mind. Knights and ladies hurried to the orchard, and brought her to her bed in the palace.

King Orfeo came to his lady and said 'Dear love, what ails you, your face is pale and your eyes wild?' 'My lord', she sobbed, 'you and I must part, tomorrow I must leave you.'; 'Then I am destroyed,' said Sir Orfeo, Wherever you go, I must go too.' 'That cannot be, and I will tell you why. As I lay in the orchard, I had a dream. I dreamt that a king came riding up to me. A hundred knights rode beside him, and a hundred damsels in dresses as white as milk, mounted on snow-white horses. The king wore a crown that was neither of silver nor of gold, but of some precious metal as bright as the sun. This fairy king made me ride beside him on a palfrey. He took me to his palace and showed me castles and towers, rivers and forests and flower-filled meadows. Then he brought me to our orchard once more and said to me, 'Lady, tomorrow you must be here under this fruit tree. Then you shall go and live with us and live with us for evermore.' 'Woe is me!' cried Sir Orfeo, I would rather die than lose my beloved wife. What shall I do?' Next morning Sir Orfeo took a thousand knights to escort the queen to the fruit tree. 'Protect your queen well.' 'We would rather die than let her be taken,' they replied. But they looked around, and she had already gone.

The king went to his room and grieved so sorely that he almost died. He called together the chief men in the land. 'Now I have lost my queen, I shall go into the woods and live with the wild beasts. My High Steward will rule for me.' Wearing the coat of a poor pilgrim, and taking only his harp, he crossed moors until he came to a wood, and lived there all alone.
Once he had owned castles and flowery meadows; now he had the hard ground for his bed and lived on wild fruits and berries, in winter, on roots and grasses. His beard grew down to his waist, his only comfort was his harp, which he kept in a hollow tree. In fine weather, when he played, the wild beasts followed the sound and grew close to Orfeo. Birds perched on branches near him, and all listened until it came to an end.

Orpheus and the animals, Hans Leu, c. 1519

On hot days Orfeo saw the fairy king riding like huntsmen through the forest with their hounds, but he never saw them kill any beast. They vanished, he knew not where. One day sixty ladies rode by him, each as graceful as a bird on a bough. Each bore a falcon on her wrist, and they hawked by the river. As he drew close to watch, he saw that one was his own Queen Herodis. She saw him too, but neither spoke a word to each other. Tears fell from her eyes when she saw his suffering, then the other ladies made her ride away, leaving him alone.
'Alas!' cried Orfeo, 'my life has lasted too long when I dare not speak a word to my wife, nor she to me. Taking his harp, he followed on foot till he came to a passage into the rock. They rode for three miles until he came out into a fair country, bright and green and flat. In the middle of the plain was a castle, wondrous high, with an outer wall of clear shining crystal.
When Orfeo knocked at the gate, a porter came. 'What do you want here?' 'I am a minstrel. I should like to play to your lord.'
The porter let him in, Inside the castle were many people whom the fairy king had taken prisoner. They lay as though fast asleep, and among them was his own sweet wife, sleeping beneath a fruit tree. Orfeo went into a great hall where the fairy king sat on a great throne with his queen beside him. He knelt below the king.
'Good Lord, would it please you to hear my minstrelsy?'
'What kind of man are you?' asked the king, 'you are brave indeed to come into this land without being sent for.'
'I am only a poor minstrel. I know we are not always welcome, but we must offer to show our skill.'
'Then play to me.'

He sat before the king and played so beautifully everyone in the palace heard and came to listen. When he finished, the king said 'I like your music so well that whatever you ask for I shall give you.'
'Then, good king, give me that beautiful lady who lies sleeping under the fruit tree.'
And he led her out of the land of fairy, the beautiful queen and the ragged long bearded Orfeo.

In his own city, no one recognised Sir Orfeo. When he met the High Steward, he said 'Have mercy on a poor and needy harpist!'
Said the steward, 'Come with me, all harpists are welcome, in memory of my lord Sir Orfeo.'
In the evening they feasted, and minstrels played, but when it was Orfeo's turn the music was so beautiful all the knights and ladies marvelled and the Steward recognised the harp, and he knelt before Sir Orfeo.
King Orfeo was crowned again and to reward his loyalty, when the king and queen died, the Steward reigned after them.

This edited version © John Harrison 2004

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If you liked this, try Gawain and the Green Knight, available in Penguin Classics, a related tale from the following century, concerning a magical green knight from a pre-Christian world, who tests the virtue of Kings Arthur's court.

'Let us make merry while we may and give our minds to pleasure, for a man can be sad whenever he wishes.'

From Gawain and the Green Knight

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Web design: Elaine Brennan. Last updated 07 07 04.

The Wild Wood

Little Red Riding Hood

The Little Girl and the Wolf

Sir Orfeo