Niels Ingwersen - The Foktale As Response To History

The Need for Narrative: The Folktale as Response to History
Author(s): Niels Ingwersen

Source: Scandinavian Studies, Vol. 67, No. 1 (Winter 1995), pp. 77-90
Published by: University of Illinois Press on behalf of the Society for the Advancement
of Scandinavian Study
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The Need for Narrative:
The Folktale as Response
to History
Niels Ingwersen
University of Wisconsin, Madison
if we no longer agree with the Grimm Brothers (1816)

that legends have the authority of history, we can admit that
one major incentive as to why folktales are retold is that they
function as a response to history. Suddenly a tale that may not seem
overtly historical can assume a new immediacy, a specific situational
meaning, that ties it in with history. Put differently, there arises a need
for a tale that relates to or comments on a certain experience.
One classroom incident illustrates that point. I had assigned a well-
known Norwegian tale variant of the huldre taking a human being into
the mountain. In this particular case it was "The Girl Who Was Taken, "
from Reidar Th. Christiansen's edition of Norwegian tales in transla-
tion (Christiansen 1964: 77-8, 0degaard 1917: 1 12-4). The abducted
woman, Guro, encounters a former acquaintance one evening, Jacob,
and informs him that not only will she stay with her captors but also
that, with them, she lives a life of plenty. Finally, she asks Jacob to tell
her parents to give away her shoes, the only memento of her they have
kept, so that she, who otherwise is magnificently dressed, no longer
will have to wear rags on her feet.
I asked the students to respond to the tale, to search for its meaning
or its meanings. That request was given with Richard Bauman's warn-
ing in mind: "the moral here is not to take meaning for granted/' for
after all we are dealing with a "communicative event" (Bauman 1983:
363). l In the classroom, I received the expected fairly ahistorical,
1 Recently, Birgitte Rorbye, when referring to Ruth Finnegan's view that a[a] concern
with meaning perhaps underlies all analysis of oral texts," seconded Bauman when she
added that it is artificial to limit that quest for meaning since the texts are multilevelled
(Finnegan 1992: 183; R0rbye 1993: 19; also, Kirshenblatt-Gimblett 1975: 130).
78 Scandinavian Studies
general response that, "if you must leave your home

look back, and that those who are left behind sh
equally willing to bid those departing good-bye."
the legend was seen as sending a general, cultural me
be useful to the group in which it is told. That quite s
the search for the text's meaning is one to be expecte
for the text has, as a rule, not much specific relevanc
audience.
One student, however, put the text within a specific historical frame
of reference. In paraphrase she said: uyou have told us, and I know from
my family, that thousands of Norwegians in the latter part of the
nineteenth century left their homes to emigrate to America. If you
make the choice of leaving forever, as those immigrants did, it is
pointless, or perhaps even destructive, to retain strong memories of
those left behind or for those left behind to cling to memories of the
migrs. So the story makes a very clear point; it asks those left behind
to abandon any hope of a reunion with the person who has left and to
accept the fact that the person is now much better off in her new
world." Not only did my student, thus, see the tale as a text that could
be used to comment on a historical situation, but she also stressed the
possible use of the tale as a means to negotiate the ramifications of such
a situation. Her response to the tale in no manner detracted from or
changed the general interpretation of the text. Rather, it concretized
the tale.
As the quest for meaning, or meanings, continued, it appeared that
at the moment the text had been given historical rooting, it assumed
deeper significance to its classroom audience. And as that engaged
audience continued to discuss the text, it became clear that there was
no consensus as to the meanings of the legend: to some the text
primarily seemed to be tragic in its vision of abandonment, in its futile
memories, and in the brutal reminder sent from the daughter to her
parents that not only will they never see her again, but also that she is
happy without them - in fact, she is on her way to a feast. Other
students who likewise tended to focus on the emotions of those left
behind - not only on the parents, but on a society that disapproves of
deviations from social norms - agreed that the text was tragic, for
Guro's rebellious act or her seduction by the "other" threatens the
social fabric of society. For again other students the story related was a
triumphant one celebrating the survivor, who manages precisely because
The Folktale as Response to History 79
she accepts the unknown, the dangerous, or the forbidde

succeeds in a way that those left behind never will. Ther
doubt that it was the first-mentioned student's "historic
the tale that gave the quest for meanings - for multileve
further impetus. The fact that the discussion roamed so
and included the whole gamut of responses underscore
statement that "the legend is extremely variable, reacting
local and immediate needs that modify and reformu
narratives and the messages they communicate" (Dgh
The discussion of "The Girl Who Was Taken" demonstrates that it
would be restrictive to label the text either tragic or the opposite. In
many legends with narrative structures of some scope, the audience
must add those brush strokes to the canvas of the text that determine
its world view. It seems to be that point which Bauman stressed when,
in his checklist for comprehending folklore in terms of a web of contex-
tual interrelationships, he ended with the context of the situation, for
it gives meaning "above and beyond their [the texts'] generalized
cultural meaning" (Bauman 1983: 366). To that Lauri Honko has
added that "the actual meaning of a folklore item may be dependent
upon the situational context and cannot be derived from the average
interpretation or context of meaning" (Honko 1989: 36).
It is not my intention here to delve into such pedagogical matters as
how folklore should be taught, but it might as well be admitted that
some folklorists may find the discussion above somewhat suspect.
"The Girl Who Was Taken" is not told by an unreflective informant; it
is a printed version, and the audience is not a genuine one, and an
instructor might superimpose his views on the so-called audience. The
problem is one that Elizabeth Fine used as a point of departure in her
preface to The Folklore Text (1984), in which she stated that when the
performance vanishes, the text produced is a significantly different one
(1984: xi); Honko, referring to a study edited by Dan Ben-Amos and
Kenneth Goldstein, sums up the stance hostile to the non-oral text
thus:
There is no natural existence for folklore beyond performance. Folk-

lore archives are nothing but collections of dead artifacts, arbitrarily
limited texts, that were generated under rather special, mostly non-
authentic circumstances and immediately placed outside the system of
communication which maintains folklore. (Honko 1989: 33)
Honko 's summary may seem a bit on the severe side;

states in her introduction that u[t]he text not only s
mance for future studies, it represents the perfor
medium" (Fine 1984: 3). Ulf Palmenfelt offers supp
when he concludes his "On the Understanding of F
noting that,
A legend lifted out of this continuous, dynamic, dialect

telling legends], for instance by a collector writing it dow
in an archive, will be like a still photograph. But any
remembers that legends are representations of real
meetings, feelings, joys, fears, and sorrows will be able
of understanding out of such a photo collection. (Palmen
Harold Scheub, himself a collector of tales, has assert

duction to one of his collections that is explicitly mea
use, that,
[T]he full beauty of the performance is inevitably diminished when

the stories are written down and divorced from their contexts, from
the bodies and voices of the artists. Even so, these narratives do
suggest the authority and splendor of storytelling in Africa, from
earlier times to the present. (Scheub 1990: v)
And, surely, the printed text can inspire new performances; a retold tale
becomes worth attention for, as Honko states, "[i]n fact, a narrative
[is] reborn in every performance, especially produced to fit a particular
occasion"; thus, Honko seconds Bauman's criticism of too rigid a
respect for the so-called "natural context" (Honko 1989: 34, Bauman
1983: 366).
Even if this defense of the way a legend may be brought back to life
as it is studied in "non-authentic circumstances" has been necessary,
further elaboration is needed. Nevertheless, Honko's statement re-
turns us to the observation that, for some reason, in some situation, a
given text becomes a needed response to history. That point, as well as
the issue as to whether "The Girl Who Was Taken" is tragic or not, was
brought home to me in a completely unexpected way in a situation
outside the classroom. In an innocuous situation where I had been
asked to relate Scandinavian Christmas customs and stories to a social
group, I included "The Girl Who was Taken," which is, after all, a tale
of two Christmases. Afterwards, as people chatted, I was approached
by a person who asked me for a copy of the tale and who then gave me
the reason for that request. Some years ago, their son
vanished without a trace and had never been seen aga
parent said, we must make up our minds to continue our
or give him up as lost. The power of folklore as it is "re
as the fact that a tale can suddenly achieve new immediac
a given event - by being needed - could hardly be mo
illustrated.
I have avoided and will avoid texts that claim to be historical -
whether the "Marsk Sti ballads" or recent accounts of non-Western
immigrants to Scandinavia often told in the belief that they really
happened - for it is the folk narrative as a response to history, rather
than these narratives as history that concern me. Whether the events
related happened or are fictional is not a trivial issue, but one that can
hardly ever be determined; the modern student of folklore tends to
share Brynjulf Alver's view presented in "Historical Legends and His-
torical Truth":
The "truth" of historical legends is not identical with the "truth" of

legal documents and history books, and official documents them-
selves are not necessarily "objective" reports. In many instances we
should consider them the representation of one view of an event.
Legend tradition constitutes another view. In epic form, historical
legends reveal the reactions and reflections of the common folk, their
impressions, experiences, and their explanation and evaluations of
events that are important to them. (Alver 1989: 149)
Shortly before this conclusion, Alver pointed out that the narrative that
has survived - or been recycled - does so "only if it conforms to the
laws of all storytelling" (Alver 148).2 This point may implicitly explain
why the legend is better fit and more often used not only as a represen-
tation of history, but also, and perhaps more importantly, as a response
to history.
Not all forms of the subgenres of the folktale are equally well
equipped to respond to history; if one evaluates the three major
subgenres - that is, magic tale, prose fabliau,3 and legend - it is gener-
2 Simonsen questions the tale as a reflection of history as well and echoes Alver by
pointing out that a tale "follows its own laws" and that "fiction is not a direct reflection,
but a complex process of transformation" (Simonsen 1993: 124).
3 I have elsewhere suggested that the term prose fabliau be used to designate the
Scandinavian term slumteeventyr and thereby replace the awkward droll. Schwank, and
jokes and anecdotes (Ingwersen 305-6).
ally recognized that it is the last, as Max Lthi h

demonstrated, approximates history most closely.4 Th
an open, experiential universe which one can equate
able, even tragic, history (Lthi 1976: 143; Dgh 19
the magic tale and the fabliau are bound by strict g
that prohibit the adaptability which a text responding
have. The fabliau, like the magic tale, is a contrived and
not flexible enough to become a poignant commen
which the audience placed in a certain situation ma
narration of both magic tale and fabliau suggests that
fiction, glorious magic or rollicking fun, and that sto
ence delight in what both subgenres can do for the min
The legend, however, seems to belong to a very d
more flexible category, for the storyteller eschews th
the magic tale and the fabliau and often takes pai
audience that what is being related is authentic. The il
tion of the legend being oral history is insisted on by c
locations, non-formulaic names of characters, and dates
the reliability of the narrator from whom the presen
story. In addition, the discourse might tend to be
condensed that it comes dangerously close to being
storytelling potential of the event being related is see
Numerous legends exist about St. Olaf, and the even
printed story of less than half a page could become, in
skilled writer, a novel or, through the voice of an insp
lengthy magic tale or, for that matter, a spun-out fab
St. Olaf legends seem more like a series of abstract
could be, but are not, told in entertaining ways. In ad
brought together under one umbrella (by storytel
editor) do not have the organic relationship that ties t
long magic tales, such as uDe tre prinsesser fra Hvidte
Lindorm," but rather appear to be quite mechanical
"anthologized." The difference between magic tale a
one hand and the legend on the other seems quite stri
discourse, a difference that may be caused partly by t
rhetorical and conversational performance - as an a
4 Lthi's The European Folktale: Form and Nature devotes p

scrupulous discussion of the differences between magic tale and
emphasizing that the legend is rooted in ordinary reality (Lthi
tion, for example - and, therefore, its fragmentary perform

1972: 74, Alver 1989: 162). The legend may be considere
classroom"; so, of course, the narration cannot approximate
magic tale or fabliau, for those subgenres are fiction; th
nonfiction - supposedly.
It should be expected that many a teller of legends, as wel
storyteller's audience, would not accept the naivete lod
above paragraph, for the authenticity that the discourse offe
pretense - an artistic convention - and the legend is mu
stricted than suggested above. The legend roams much f
wider than the other subgenres, and that freedom will perm
legend narrative, ideological, and artistic possibilities tha
subgenres do not have. Many tellers of legends observe the r
create a semblance of authenticity, but they elegantly trans
restrictions and relate exciting and disturbing stories, the o
which, in contrast to the other subgenres, cannot easily be
If these observations seem too abstract, one well-know
should concretize matters. "De dodes gudstjeneste," which As
and Moe included in their mini-anthology "En gammeldags j
serves as an excellent example (Asbjornsen and Moe, 19
Da min mor ennu var pike, kom hun stundom til en enke s
kjente, som bette -ja hva var det n hun bette da ? Madam - nei}
ikke komme p det, men det kan vare detsamme ogs, bun bodde
Mgllergaten og var en kone noe over sin beste alder. . . . (Asbjorn
Moe 1963: 26-7)
(When my mother was still a girl, she used to come now and
a widow she knew who was called - Yes, what was her nam
Madame - No, I can't think of it, but it doesn't matter. She li
in Mllergaten, and was a woman a little past her best year
[Christiansen 1964: 45])
and concludes:
Om morenen da folk kom til kirken, l kpenp trappen, men den var
revet i tusen stykker. Min mor, bun badde sett den mange ganger fer, og
jeg tror bun badde sett et av stykkene ogsd; nok av det, det var en kort
lysered Stoffes kpe med bareskinns for og kanter, slik en som var bruk i
min barndom enda. Nu er det rart se en snn en, men det er noen
gamie koner her i by en og p stifteisen i Gamlebyen som jeg ser i kirken
med slike ber ijulehelgen. (28-9)
(In the morning, when the congregation came to church

lying on the steps, but it was torn to a thousand shreds
had seen the coat many times before, and I believe she s
shreds too. Enough of that, it was a short, pink coat,
lining and trim, the kind that was still in use in m
Nowadays it's strange to see one like it, but there are still
here in town, and at the Old Folks' Home in the Old
have seen at church at Christmas time wearing that
[Christiansen 1964: 46-7])
None of these bits of information is exciting; the con

in particular, is surely a letdown for an audience havin
spellbinding ghost story. Nevertheless, both comm
sense of oral history which is essential to the legend c
sees these openers and closers as characteristic of the
and even maintains that "if there is artistry in the way
it is in the skillful formulation of convincing statement
elements of the frame (Dgh 1972: 74-5). Dgh, ho
focus on the main story, for which the frame, in
accomplishment, is hardly needed. The tale of the wom
the midnight mass of the dead is a splendid, if ghastly,
needs special devices, geographical, etiological, or other
the factual introductions and conclusions in many lege
tional elements that can be easily abbreviated, expande
good storytellers. To eliminate them entirely, howe
the law of legend telling, for legends would thereby l
fiction that is needed: that whatever we tell has ha
happen to us; in short, the feeling or illusion that the t
to history.
"De dodes gudstjeneste," may offer an answer to the disturbing
question of what happens when we die - even if the tale may not satisfy
the questioner. The same question seems to be posed and to motivate
numerous ghost-legends, for many of these texts operate with dead
who cannot rest in blessed peace, but who roam the earth and who
often are envious of the living. Even if the endings of these stories, such
as in "Draugenes kamp med dodningene i Luro" (Olsen 1912: 14-6),
seem comforting, they are not so, for no peaceful rest is granted to the
dead. It is gratifying to see the protagonists escape the ghouls, but
Asbjornsen's sly use of the frame in "En gammeldags juleaften" sug-
gests that he did not intend to permit the question of what happens
after death to be a general, vague concern; the opening and

details particularize the narrative and make his audience con
issue of what happens next. Within the frame, one of the sm
in the audience, who becomes understandably spooked by th
ery that the congregation consists of the dead, reacts a
"'Huff, jeg blir redd, jeg blir redd, mor Skau,' sutret en av
kr0p op p en stol" [uOh no, I am scared, I am scare
whimpered one of the small ones and climbed a chair"]
and Moe 1963: 28). The child is immediately put at ease
storyteller, who informs the youngster that the woman
danger; to the alert members of the audience, however, the
words are cold comfort, for they falsify the situation.
Let me once again resort to the classroom situation: at th
reminds the tale's audience that this story was told to the ol
by her mother who, as a child^ heard the story about a wom
no longer exactly young. That old woman, the one who
midnight mass, got away in the nick of time, but the q
ought to be posed is where is she now as the story is being
question gives the story a disturbing immediacy - it makes
existentially real - and fiction becomes reality, a part
Asbjornsen, playing critic or instructor, by his subtle use o
made a good ghost story into an existential probing. The an
as to what happens after death is presented in terms of the f
envious, restless dead, but that answer, as stated above, wou
seem final to all members in the audience and that fact wo
that many legends do not really offer answers but are, rath
into the unknown. Such probes, as Lthi has noted, are a re
a much needed one, to existential questions (Lthi 1976
As a rule, it is acknowledged that legends, whether s
historical or not, fulfill the vaguely historical function of
communal values in rather conservative, rural regions. J
writes, "[b]esides illustrating a world view, legends helped r
and nowhere is this clearer than in legends used didactically
1978: 30, Dgh 1972: 73). He continues, "they [legends]
dards of behavior for various situations" (Lindow: 31). Th
the anthology Scandinavian Folk Belief and Legend (1988
that legends "confirm the existing social structure and
norms," but continue, "[i]n general, folk tradition is c
rather than reformist, but there are exceptions to the rule
and Sehmsdorf 1988: 21-2). The exceptions then g

striking, for legends that advocate rebellions against a
sent one major social group's traditional outcry agains
are, thus, hardly that subversive or daring. Lindow, t
gives the legend credit for daring; he sees some leg
critical of the superimposed Christian order (Lindo
he points out that the legend is a means by which one c
unfamiliar (Lindow 1978: 55). When Lindow treats
approach the mystery of death, he readily admits tha
inspires fear," which suggests that the legend goes be
the conservative norms of a static society (Lindow
As mentioned, the clever storyteller knows how t
convention of authenticity; likewise, that storytell
circumvent the notion that legends are necessarily
servative. Of course, these are exceptions, but they ar
the number of variants strongly suggests - thus, they
nificant presence of counter-texts. If the major histor
the conservative texts was to maintain an accepted
function of the counter-legends was to challenge that
discredit conformity, to be subversive - and that active
them historical significance. They are told in order to
lent perception of the world, to alter a group's consci
are thus the means by which to influence history.
should illustrate the point.
Lindow indicated that some legends are highly critic
ity, and so they are, but their sting seems mainly dir
doctrinaire stances of the intolerant institution of the
of cloth, self-righteous and even vicious, gets his just d
ti tusso" (Skar 1961: 445-6). The sympathy for the
gest, to follow up a general point by Lindow (1978: 42
is conservative in the sense of its positing a tenacio
world view, but the confrontation between the priest
the huldre may also be seen as scorn leveled at a church
salvation to those within it. It is noteworthy that, the h
too and with persuasive power puts the representative
his place so efficiently that the priest never again dare
the pulpit. The huldr^ here accepted as another of
stands out as the healthy antidote to the rigid repr
church and is posited as a being who is free ofthat sin,
which the institution of the church tended to browbeat

tions (Busing, 1969). The huldre becomes the embodimen
vision of the human condition and, simultaneously, a sh
the world as it is. It is telling that the farmer who
dealings with the huldre - which are forbidden, of cour
are why the nosy and censorious priest has arrived - info
that huldre can be trusted - they always keep their word
farmer implies the converse for human beings.
It can hardly be surprising that the authority of the ch
challenged, for its demands must have been felt to be se
on people's privacy. A resentment against a repressive h
is expressed in several legends that voice delight in seein
standing corrected. That kind of criticism, one that
material level - the greediness or callousness of the au
moves on to the existential level is one for which the m
fabliau hardly has room.
Such subversive legends, then, rise to a particular o
underscore the legend not as a response to a universal
life, but to some explicit situation that requires a reaction
legend does not have the scope or firm world view of th
of the prose fabliau but is used to address individual or
Its teller takes a case-by-case approach to life and does n
the same grand manner as in the telling of other su
folktale. The legend takes an ad hoc approach that libera
narrative patterns of the other subgenres, but which al
unwieldy type of story, about which it is reductive to g
much - it is hard to find that common ideological de
those structural paradigms that the magic tale and the f
Dgh has voiced that difficulty when she asked, u[w]hy
describe the legend? " (1972: 73). The legend is the m
genre of narrative folklore. It can span both comedy and
a rule remains in-between, leaving those genre-extre
tively the prose fabliau and the ballad permitting the ma
about in the world of high hopes and romance. The lege
experience rather than with outlook, but the legend doe
experience to take on sweeping ontological significanc
The attitude towards huldre expressed in legend, f
demonstrates the inability to generalize. Legend wa
huldre are common, but "Ole Hefre" takes a much more
toward those Others (Tvedten 1891: 78-80). A yo

spend the night with his fiance, who lives in anoth
he encounters the huldre who are having a joyful par
in life. He, the representative of the kind of intoleran
the human minister stood for in the "Upphavi ti Tus
feres with their joy by shouting that they will h
afterlife, which is granted to Christians only. When
him, he exhibits the same myopic arrogance as th
former story and pronounces gleefully that huldre h
chance of going to heaven as his old walking cane has
and flowers. Having pronounced that verdict - wh
institution of the church - he walks on and spends t
fiance.
The next morning, however, he is in for a surp
outside, he sees that, during the night, his cane h
again, the Good Lord, who may not feel very comfor
confines of the Church, has shown his servants that
His will, and - like the minister in "Opphavi ti tussa"
of this story stands corrected. He, too, must make a
to the place where he rudely and thoughtlessly cond
to extinction, and he displays the flowering cane to
Once again, the legend has been used to allow
prevail and to ensure that intolerance and dogmat
These reactions against Christian righteousness ca
surely they are either of historical significance or ca
that significance. If intolerance is encountered in
church, these stories abruptly take on that counter-
needed to correct a person who thinks that he/s
history.
Several other texts could be invoked here, for legend tends to
contradict legend and defies the notion that texts from a certain region
present a uniform world view. If the magic tale and the fabliau can be
said to engage in dialectics (Ingwersen 1989: 315-6), the genre of the
legend becomes complicated - and realistic - by engaging that process
within itself. Neither realism nor history can interpret events in a
sweeping manner with full authority, but the telling of a legend to
those who need to respond to history may well provide them with more
existential satisfaction than a magic tale or a fabliau.
The Danish novelist and short-story writer Martin A. H

profound respect for the legend, partly because he w
mersed in the question of what role the artist could play i
process. His cultural history Orrn 0f Tyr (1952) is named
and in his travel chronicle of Norway, Kringen (195
repeatedly to the legend of the Scottish mercenary Ca
who invaded Norway with his troops in the 1600s, bu
were killed to the last man by Norwegian farmers. O
account ofthat victory lives on as a historical legend.
turn, has been enacted in literature and public monum
thus become institutionalized. If that process may seem to
petrify the live legend, events may suddenly give th
immediacy. Hansen, who went to Norway in 1947 shortly
War II, had been an active member of the Danish Re
consequently, for him, any tale against tyrants would st
Shortly after his arrival to the region of Klingen, the
Sinclair suffered defeat, a Norwegian told him the story w
immediacy that Hansen repeatedly brings up - adet var f
happened recently"] (56). For Hansen, an engaged p
history, it was subsequently heartbreaking to listen to an
gian who had to admit that the German occupation of th
a mockery of the function of the Sinclair legend. Be that
legend for Hansen is recent history - 1612, 1940, his o
the legend tells him that, no matter what the outcome, t
be fought. The legend of Sinclair, whenever told, is then
what happened recently - and it posits the needed respon
In that lies the function, if not of the legend as such, th
legend told.
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Niels Ingwersen - The Foktale As Response To History

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The Need for Narrative: The Folktale as Response to History

Author(s): Niels Ingwersen

if we no longer agree with the Grimm Brothers (1816)

general response that, "if you must leave your home

she accepts the unknown, the dangerous, or the forbidde

There is no natural existence for folklore beyond performance. Folk-

Honko 's summary may seem a bit on the severe side;

A legend lifted out of this continuous, dynamic, dialect

Harold Scheub, himself a collector of tales, has assert

[T]he full beauty of the performance is inevitably diminished when

The "truth" of historical legends is not identical with the "truth" of

ally recognized that it is the last, as Max Lthi h

4 Lthi's The European Folktale: Form and Nature devotes p

tion, for example - and, therefore, its fragmentary perform

(In the morning, when the congregation came to church

None of these bits of information is exciting; the con

after death to be a general, vague concern; the opening and

and Sehmsdorf 1988: 21-2). The exceptions then g

which the institution of the church tended to browbeat

toward those Others (Tvedten 1891: 78-80). A yo

The Danish novelist and short-story writer Martin A. H

Christiansen, Reidar, cd. 1964. Folktales of Norway. Chicago: U

Fine, Elizabeth C. 1984. The Folklore Text: From Performan

Holbek, Bengt. 1987. Interpretation of Fairy Tales

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