Ignorant Historian

This is part 2.  See part 1 here.

The first dream I had was very strange and almost like a fairytale.  In it, I was not yet pregnant but was the daughter of a miller.  My father and I lived in a kingdom of some kind.  My dad needed to see the king about a new business opportunity but he was not allowed into the king’s court because he was only a miller.  In order to convince the king to see him, he said that I was able to spin gold from straw.  Of course this was not true and I could not even spin wool, but I got ushered into a room full of straw and a spinning wheel anyway.  I had all night to spin the straw into gold.  I knew that I would do my father a great disservice if I were not able to produce the gold, so I just sat down and wept.  The next thing I knew a small man was in front of me.  He had a wart on the end of his long crooked nose, and he had very hairy hands with long bony fingers and was quite generally quite unattractive.

“Why are you sobbing, my dear child?” he asked with such a tender tone.

“My father and I will be in a lot of trouble if I do not spin all this straw into gold, and I am unable to spin gold from straw.”

“Ah dear, what you see as such a problem I see as such an easy task.  You see, I have been blessed with the ability to spin straw into gold.”

Hopefully I responded as I wiped away my tears, “Will you?  Could you do that for me?  I’d do anything!”

“Surely, love, surely.  For only a small price I will do this for you and rescue you.  All I ask for is your necklace.”

More than willing to give up my little trinket, I breathed a sigh of relief, as I was able to live again.  The little man worked all night, but by morning there was a pile of gold and the straw was all gone.  As quick as the task was completed he disappeared and in walked the king.  He greedily eyed the gold that he saw and ordered me to be given a feast and an afternoon in the park, after which I would be put back to work.

The next night, the pile of straw was much bigger.  I once again looked upon it with big eyes wondering what I would do.  My only hope was for the little man to appear once more.  I did not know his name, so I was unable to call him, but with only a little bit of fretting he appeared in front of me again.  He quickly bargained to do the work for the most costly thing I owned, my ring.  To spare my father and me I quickly gave it up.  Once again he worked all through the night, but the king was well pleased when he showed up at my door the next morning.  Yet the king was quite greedy and every bit of gold he received only made him want more.  He knew that he was being hard and demanding, so he only asked me for one night more of work with the promise to make me his daughter-in-law.

Knowing full well that I had nothing to offer the little man this night, I knew I had no hope of being a princess.  Yet he showed up once again.

Bawling, I cried, “What do you want, cruel man?  I have nothing to offer you for your work.  Just leave me alone to sulk in my bitterness.”

“Ah, little one, it is true.  You have nothing of value on you.  But you have something much more valuable to offer me as a princess: your first-born, royal child.”

Knowing full well this was a lot to ask, it seemed little compared to the joy I would receive as princess.  I made the offer, and he made the gold.  The king was quick on his promise and I was married to his son the next day.  All went well and I generally forgot about the circumstances that made me queen.  I had a beautiful boy that all adored and my life was happy.  Yet the little man heard of my child and came after it, as his prize.  I begged and begged that he not take my son, but it was no use.  He would not give in.  Finally, however, he made a deal.  The deal was if I could guess his name in three days, I would be able to keep my child.  It was an easy task, I thought, as I set out asking, “Is you name Jerry, or Chris, or Manny, or George?”

“None of those are my name, but keep guessing.”  He left to let me think.  I came up with a list of all the names I could think of, and spent the next day just reading them to him.  I felt hopeless and tired of thinking about names.  I had only confided this secret of mine to one person who was a guard.  He was walking home from work that night, when he passed by this same small man dancing around a bonfire, chanting,

“The little princess’s son will soon be mine,
Thanks to the name that’s almost divine.
I can always continue with my cute little grin,
Because she’ll never guess my name is Rumpelstiltskin!”

The guard was astonished that he just stumbled upon the key to my fate and told me early the next morning before the little man came back to visit.  Rumpelstiltskin, expecting to see me bawling and pleading for my son’s life again, was shocked to see me calmly sitting in a chair.  As he approached me, I did not hesitate to nonchalantly ask, “Is your name Rumpelstiltskin?”

Retold from:
“Rumpelstiltskin” by Andrew Lang
(originally published in The Blue Fairy Book.  New York: Dover, 1965).

Come back Thursday for the next installment.