For this week’s Slavic Saturday post, we’re going on the (often rare) lighter side of Slavic folklore with “The Bear in the Forest Hut,” a story from Antoni Józef Gliński’s collection of Polish fairy tales. I’ll tell a summarized version of the story and then talk about how the themes relate to many in Slavic folklore. The quotes from the story I’m using were translated by Maude Ashurst Biggs.
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“The Bear in the Forest Hut” begins with a familiar situation to folktales. A sweet, kind girl (who is given no name in the story) lives with her hard working old father, wicked step-mother, and also unlikable step-sister. One day, the step-mother beat the girl until eventually going to the father and saying:
“Your wretched daughter is always giving me trouble; she is such an ill-tempered, spoilt hussy, that I cannot do anything with her. So if you wish for peace in the house, you must put her into your waggon, drive her away into the forest, and come back without her.”
While the father loved his daughter, he was completely controlled by his wife and did as she said. He dropped the girl off in the middle of the woods and left her to die.
The girl was distraught and wandered the woods, picking strawberries and eating the little bread her father had left for her until she came upon a hut. When she knocked and there was no answer, she entered and found no one. But then, a noise came from outside:
“Wanderer, outcast, forsaken! Whom the night has overtaken; If no crime your conscience stain, In this hut to-night remain.”
When the voice ceased, she answered:
“I am outcast and forsaken; Yet unstained by crime am I: Be you rich, or be you poor; For this night here let me lie!”
The girl’s response may seem odd to the casual reader, but in Slavic folklore, hospitality is very important, so it wouldn’t have seemed too odd for a weary traveler to ask to spend a night in another’s house. This voice was no man, though. Instead, a bear emerged from the woods and tried to calm her when she was frightened. She told him everything that had happened, and the bear was kind in response:
“Do not cry, pretty one; you shall be happy yet. But in the meantime you must do just what I tell you. Do you see that flax? You must spin it into thread; of that thread you must weave cloth, and of that cloth you must make me a shirt. I shall come here to-morrow at this same time, and if the shirt is ready I will reward you. Good-bye!”
The girl was in shock, wondering how she could finish all of the tasks in a day. But she worked hard regardless. The spinning-wheel, loom, bleaching, and stitching all went remarkably quick, yet still, she barely finished the final stitch when the bear appeared again a day later. The bear was happy to see her success:
“Thank you, my good girl; now I must reward you. You told me you had a bad stepmother; if you like, I will send my bears to tear her and her daughter in pieces.”
Despite the bear’s offer, the girl plead for the bear not to kill her step-mother and sister. He agreed not to and requests that she make some porridge for them to eat. She does, and a mouse emerged during this time, telling her that it is starving. She gave the mouse some porridge, which it ate before scurrying away.
When the bear returned and ate his porridge, he gave the girl a set of keys, saying she must stay up all night jingling the keys. If she succeeded, she would be rewarded in the morning. Then, the bear slept.
Soon, the mouse emerged and spoke to the girl:
“Give me the keys, mistress, I will jingle them for you; but you must hide yourself behind the stove, for the stones will soon be flying about.”
The girl gave the keys to the mouse and hid behind the massive stove that was common in many Slavic houses. As the mouse jingled the keys, the bear woke and threw stones from his room before sleeping again. Each time he would ask if she was alive, and she would respond that she was each time. At dawn, the mouse gave her the keys back and the bear awoke, happy to see her alive.
“O daughter of the old man! you are blest of heaven! For here was I, a powerful monarch, changed by enchantment into a bear, until some living soul should spend two nights in this hut. And now I shall soon become a man again, and return to my kingdom, taking you for my wife. But before this comes to pass, do you look into my right ear.”
The old man’s daughter threw back her hair, and looked into the right ear of the bear. And she saw a beautiful country, with millions of people, with high mountains, deep rivers, impenetrable forests, and pastures covered with flocks, well-to-do villages, and rich cities.
“What seest thou?” asked the bear.
“I see a lovely country.”
“That is my kingdom. Look into my left ear.”
She looked, and could not enough admire what she saw—a magnificent palace, with many carriages and horses in the courtyard, and in the carriages rich robes, jewels, and all kinds of rarities.
The bear then asked her which carriage was her favorite and granted it to her when she chose one with four horses. That golden carriage soon arrived, and the bear gave the girl a golden gown and jewelry. He said her father would soon arrive to find her body, and once the bear’s enchantment was over in a few days, he would find her again and make her his queen.
The old father was overjoyed to find his daughter alive and adorned with such riches. The step-mother was not. She sent her own daughter to find the bear and complete the tasks because surely her daughter was better. But long-story-short, the step-sister failed. She did not attempt to make the shirt and did not feed the poor little mouse, so when she had to jingle the keys, she was struck by a stone and killed instantly.
Next morning the bear descended from the top of the oven, looked once at the dead girl, opened the cottage door, stood upon the threshold, and stamped upon it three times with all his force. It thundered and lightened; and in one moment the bear became a handsome young king, with a golden sceptre in his hand, and a diamond crown on his head.
And now there drew up before the cottage a carriage, bright as sunshine, with six horses. The coachman cracked his whip, till the leaves fell from the trees, and the king got into the carriage, and drove away from the forest to his own capital city.
The old father soon returned to find the step-daughter dead. He brought her back to his wife, who mourned:
The old woman, wild with grief and despair, gathered up her daughter’s bones, went to some neighbouring cross-ways, and when a number of people had gathered together, she buried them there with weeping and lamentation; then she fell face downward on the grave—and was turned to stone.
Meanwhile a royal carriage drew up in the courtyard of the old man’s cottage, bright as the sun, with four splendid horses, and the coachman cracked his whip—till the cottage fell to pieces with the sound.
The king took both the old man and his daughter into the carriage, and they drove away to his capital, where the marriage soon took place.
The old man lived happily in his declining years, as the father-in-law of a king, and with his sweet daughter, who had once been so miserable, a queen.
“The Bear in the Forest Hut” is an interesting one not only because of the common elements it shares with much of Slavic folklore, but because shares many commonalities also with the popular German tale “Cinderella” and Russian “Vasilisa the Beautiful.” The evil step-mother and step-sisters, a hard-working daughter, and a prince or king to reward the girl are all included, yet the elements are different. Many cultures have these “Cinderella” stories, and they go back further than even the German tale, but this story, like Vasilisa, has a unique Slavic twist.
To the Slavs, the bear was often considered sacred. Not only was it connected to Weles (Veles), the god of the underworld, cattle, and the lowlands, but the bear was also a symbol of the forest’s power. The woods were a crucial part of Slavic culture. The bear, in kind, often was seen as the king of these woods and was therefore highly respected.
This story’s themes align with many of those from Slavic folklore and other cultures as well. The girl’s work-ethic, humility, mercy, and diligence were rewarded as she helped both bear and mouse, while her step-sister lacked these qualities and was killed. While I don’t know why there is no name attached to the girl in the story, that in itself has a feel of applicability to anyone to it. Folk tales like this are supposed to show the reward for these traits, and by there being no name in particular, any young girl could put herself in the daughter’s shoes.
That’s all for this week’s Slavic Saturday. Be sure to keep a lookout for more posts next week, and if you haven’t seen the full series of posts, be sure to check them out.
*As always just a quick disclaimer. Slavic mythology is broad and not written in many if any primary sources, so there’s a variety of interpretations. The interpretations I’m using here are from the sources I’ve found to be reliable and as well as some creative freedom for my book series.