Last Monday, February 26th was Tell a Fairy Tale Day. I began preparation for this episode with the intention of telling you a fairy tale, perhaps one that was connected to the holiday. This process opened up reflection on the necessity of a well-developed imagination to meet life challenges in a creative and satisfying way, and the role fairy tales play in cultivating this capacity.
In fairy tale language, some of these life challenges could be called “ogres,” the people and forces that hoard the gold and will eat you up, take your life, if they can. Ogre is a pretty good metaphor for some of the challenges that we meet. And, of course, an ogre appears in the story in this episode.
Transcript of Fee-fi-fo-fum: Outwitting the ogres in your life
Hello, and welcome to Myth Matters, storytelling and conversation about mythology and what myth can offer us today. I’m your host and personal mythologist Dr. Catherine Svehla. Wherever you may be in this wide, beautiful, crazy world of ours, you are part of this story circle.
Last Monday, February 26th was Tell a Fairy Tale Day and I began preparation for this episode with the intention of telling you a fairy tale, perhaps one that was connected to the holiday. This process led me down a few rabbit holes and opened up reflection on the necessity of a well-developed imagination to meet life challenges in a creative and satisfying way, and the role fairy tales play in cultivating this capacity.
In fairy tale language, some of these life challenges could be called “ogres,” the people and forces that hoard the gold and will eat you up, take your life, if they can. “Ogre” might be an apt metaphor for some of our institutions these days too, as they drain the literal and figurative life out of us. Ogre is a pretty good metaphor for some of the challenges that we meet. And, of course, it appears in today’s story.
Tell a fairy Tale Day is an Informal holiday celebrated on February 26th every year. According to online sources that it’s been celebrated for some time but no one seems to be sure when, that being one function of its informality. And I guess the mystery is fitting because the origin of fairy tales is also unknown. Last December, I told the oldest known written story, in what we recognize today as fairy tale form, the Egyptian story “Tale of the Doomed Prince,” and that dates back to the 18th dynasty in ancient Egypt– 1550 to 1295 BCE. So really old, but that is the oldest known written story.
I’ve subsequently came across research by an anthropologist and a folklorist who borrowed a technique called “phylogenetic analysis” from biology to trace the development of language families, the Indo-European for example. They looked at these language families, human settlement patterns, and commonalities between 275 fairy tales from around the world. Most people agree that fairy tales were part of the oral tradition for a very long time before they were written texts. The question is, how long? How long have people been telling this type of story?
In their reconstruction of oral traditions, researchers traced the roots of a number of the fairy tales in that test set of 275 back 4-5,000 years. A folk tale called “The Smith and the Devil “was estimated to date back 6,000 years to the Bronze Age. This is very interesting to me as someone who loves and works a lot with fairy tales because many theories about mythology and fairy tales assume that fairy tales are a later and perhaps debased version of the older myths. This may not be the case.
The notion that fairy tales deal with lesser themes, that the magical bear, for example, is quite different in terms of message and magnitude and significance from a God and that that magical bear conveys less truth, if any, may tell us more about modern prejudices about stories and where truth is found than the life and significance of human storytelling.
So, back to the stories, the fairy tales “Rumplestiltskin” and “The Beauty and the Beast” are among those now believed to be several thousand years old although they were first written down in the 17th and 18th centuries. Today I want to tell you a fairy tale that is more than 5,000 years old, “Jack and the Beanstalk.” Maybe you know this story. I was fascinated with this story as a child. Tellingly, of course, I have not revisited it as an adult, which I am now finding very interesting.
The notion that fairy tales are stories for children is a relatively new conceit, one tied to the rejection of wonder, and degradation of the imagination in adult life. This is a big problem. I’ll say more about that after I tell the story. I posted a link to a good article about this research that I’ve mentioned with the transcript of this episode, if you want to take a look at it.
Now, I invite you to relax and listen to the story. Let the story take you where you need to go. Note the moment or detail in the story that catches your attention as this opening can show you where this story touches on your life right now.
“Jack and Beanstalk”
Once upon a time, there was a poor woman widow, who had an only son named Jack. These two had a cow named Milky White. All they had to live on was the milk that the cow gave every morning, which they carried to the market and sold. But one morning Milky White gave no milk, and they didn’t know what to do.
“What shall we do? What shall we do?” said the widow, wringing her hands. “Cheer up, mother. I’ll go and get work somewhere,” Jack said. ” Well, we tried that before and nobody would take you” said his mother. “We must sell Milky White and use the money to start a shop or something.” “All right, mom,” Jack said. “It’s market day today so, I will take Milky White, sell her, and then we’ll see what we can do.
So, he took the cows’ halter in his hand and started down the road for the market. He hadn’t gone very far when he met a funny looking old man by the side of the road, who said “Good morning, Jack.” “Good morning to you” said Jack and he wondered how this guy knew his name. “Well, Jack, and where are you off to?” asked the man. “I’m going to market to sell our cow.”
“Oh, well, you look the proper sort of chap to sell cows” said the man. “I wonder if you know how many beans makes five.” “Two in each hand and one in the mouth” says Jack, sharp as a needle. “Right you are,” says the man “and here they are, the very beans themselves.” And he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a number of strange looking beans. “As you are so sharp” the man says, “I don’t mind doing a swap with you your cow for these beans.”
“Oh yeah, right” said Jack. “And wouldn’t you like that.” “You don’t know what these beans are” said the man. “If you plant them overnight, by morning they grow right up to the sky.” “Really” said Jack. “You don’t say so.” “Yes, that is so and if it doesn’t turn out to be true you can have your cow back.” “Right”, says Jack and he handed over Milky Whites’ halter and pocketed the beans.
And back Jack went home. Because he hadn’t gone very far it wasn’t even dusk by the time he got back to his door.
“You’re back already, Jack?” said his mother. “I see you haven’t got Milky-White, so you’ve sold her. How much did you get for our cow?” “You’ll never guess, mother,” says Jack. “No, you don’t say so. Good boy!” says mother. “Five pounds? Ten? Fifteen? No, it can’t be twenty.”
“I told you, you couldn’t guess mom. What do you say to these beans? They’re magical. Plant them overnight and — ”
“What!” said Jack’s mom. “Have you been such a fool, such a dolt, such an idiot, as to give away my Milky-White, the best milker in the parish, and prime beef to boot, for a set of paltry beans? Oh my god, take that! And as for your precious beans, they go out of the window.” She tossed them out the window. “And now you Jack, you fool. You go off to bed. No dinner for you. Not tonight.
So, Jack went upstairs to his little room in the attic. And he was pretty sad and sorry to be sure, because his mom was so upset and well, he was hungry. At last he dropped off to sleep.
When he woke up, the room looked so funny. The sun was shining into part of it, and yet all the rest was quite dark and shady. Jack jumped up and got dressed and went to the window. And what do you think he saw? Why, the beans his mother had thrown out of the window into the garden had sprung up into a big beanstalk which went up and up and up till it reached the sky. So, the man spoke truth after all.
The beanstalk grew up quite close past Jack’s window, so all he had to do was to open it and give a jump onto the beanstalk and the leaves ran up just like a big ladder. Jack climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed till at last he reached the sky. And when he got there he found a long broad road going as straight as a dart. He walked along, and he walked along. He walked for a while until he came to a great big tall house, and on the doorstep there was a great big tall woman.
Jack went up to her and said “Good morning, mum. Could you be so kind as to give me some breakfast?” Because he hadn’t had anything to eat, you remember, he hadn’t had dinner the night before and he was as hungry as a hunter. “It’s breakfast you want, is it” says the great big tall woman. “It’s breakfast you’ll be if you don’t move off from here. My man is an ogre and there’s nothing he likes better than boys broiled on toast. You better be moving on or he’ll be coming.”
Oh, please, mum” Jack said, “do give me something to eat. I’ve had nothing to eat since yesterday morning and really and truly, I may as well be broiled as die of hunger.”
Well, the ogre’s wife was not half bad. So, she took Jack into the kitchen, and gave him a hunk of bread and cheese and a jug of milk. He had not even finished when thump! thump! thump! the whole house began to tremble with the noise of someone coming.
“Goodness gracious me! It’s my old man,” said the ogre’s wife. “What on earth shall I do? Come along quick and jump in here.” And she bundled Jack into the oven just as the ogre came in.
He was a big one, to be sure. At his belt he had three calves strung up by the heels. He unhooked them and threw them down on the table and said, “Here, wife, broil me a couple of these for breakfast. Ah! what’s this I smell?
Fee-fi-fo-fum,
I smell the blood of an Englishman,
Be he alive, or be he dead,
I’ll have his bones to grind my bread.”
“Nonsense, dear,” said his wife. “You’ re dreaming. Or perhaps you smell the scraps of that little boy you liked so much for yesterday’s dinner. Here, you go and have a wash and tidy up, and by the time you come back your breakfast will be ready for you.”
Off the ogre went, and Jack was just going to jump out of the oven and run away when the woman told him “Wait. Wait till he’s asleep,” says she; “he always has a nap after breakfast.”
Well, the ogre had his breakfast, and after that he went to a big chest and took out a couple of bags of gold. Then he sat down to count. his gold and at last his head began to nod and he began to snore till the whole house shook again.
Jack crept out on tiptoe from his oven, and as he was passing the ogre, he took one of the bags of gold under his arm and took off like a shot–boom he ran as fast as he could back to the beanstalk. He threw down the bag of gold, which, of course, fell into his mother’s garden, and then he climbed down and climbed and climbed and climbed and climbed and climbed down till at last he got home. He told his mother and showed her the gold and said, “Well, mother, wasn’t I right about the beans? They are really magical, you see.”
Well Jack and his mom lived on the bag of gold for some time. But at last, they came to the end of it, and Jack made up his mind to try his luck once more at the top of the beanstalk. So, one fine morning he rose up early, and got onto the beanstalk, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed till at last he came out onto that broad road. And he walked down the road, up to the great tall house, where he had been before. And sure enough, there was the great tall woman standing on the doorstep.
“Good morning, mum,” says Jack, as bold as brass, “could you be so good as to give me something to eat?” “Go away, my boy,” said the big tall woman, “or else my man will eat you up for breakfast. Hmm, but aren’t you the youngster who came here once before? Do you know, that very day my man missed one of his bags of gold.”
“That’s strange, mum,” said Jack, “I dare say I could tell you something about that, but I’m so hungry I can’t speak till I’ve had something to eat.” Well, the big tall woman was so curious that she took him in and gave him something to eat. But Jack had scarcely begun munching it when he could hear that thump, thump thump of the giant’s footstep, and his wife hid Jack away in the oven again. And it all happened, as it did before. In came the ogre Fee-fi-fo-fum, and his wife says “Oh, don’t be silly.” The ogre had for his breakfast off three broiled oxen.
Then he said, “Wife, bring me the hen that lays the golden eggs.” So, she brought it, and the ogre said, “Lay,” and the hen laid an egg all of gold. And then the ogre began to nod his head and to snore till the house shook.
Jack crept out of the oven on tiptoe and caught hold of the golden hen, and he was off before you could say “Jack Robinson.” But this time the hen gave a cackle which woke the ogre, and just as Jack got out of the house he heard him calling, “Wife, wife, what have you done with my golden hen?” And the wife said, “What… why, my dear?”
But that was all of their conversation Jack heard because he was rushing back to the beanstalk. And once again he climbed down as fast as he could. When he got home, he showed his mother the wonderful hen and he said “lay” to it, and it laid a golden egg. Every time he said “lay” it laid a golden egg.
Well, Jack was not content, and it wasn’t long before he determined to have another try at his luck up there at the top of the beanstalk. So, one fine morning he rose up early and got to the beanstalk, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed till he got to the top.
But this time he knew better than to go straight to the ogre’s house. And when he got near it, he waited behind a bush till he saw the ogre’s wife come out with a pail to get some water. While she was occupied he crept into the house and climbed into a copper pot and pulled the lid over his head.
He hadn’t been there long when he heard thump! thump! thump! as before, and in came the ogre and his wife. “Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman,” cried out the ogre. “I smell him, wife, I smell him.”
“Do you, my dearie?” says the ogre’s wife. “Then, if it’s that little rogue that stole your gold and the hen that laid the golden eggs he’s sure to have got into the oven.” And they both rushed to the oven. But Jack wasn’t there, luckily, and the ogre’ s wife said, “There you are again with your fee-fi-fo-fum. Why, of course, it’s the boy you caught last night that I’ve just broiled for your breakfast. How forgetful I am, and how careless you are not to know the difference between live and dead after all these years.”
So, the ogre sat down to the breakfast and he ate it. But every now and then he would mutter, “Well, I could have sworn –” and he’d get up and search the larder and the cupboards and everything, only, luckily, he didn’t think of that copper pot.
After breakfast was over, the ogre called out, “Wife, wife, bring me my golden harp.” So, she brought it and put it on the table before him. Then he said, “Sing!” and the golden harp sang most beautifully. And it went on singing till the ogre fell asleep and commenced to snore like thunder.
Then Jack lifted up the copper lid very quietly and got down like a mouse and crept on hands and knees till he came to the table, when up he crawled, caught hold of the golden harp and dashed with it toward the door. But the harp called out quite loud, “Master! Master!” and the ogre woke up just in time to see Jack running off with his harp.
Jack ran as fast as he could, and the ogre came rushing after, and would have caught him, only Jack had a start and dodged him a bit and Jack knew where he was going. When he got to the beanstalk the ogre was not more than twenty yards away when suddenly he saw Jack disappear like, and when he came to the end of the road he saw Jack underneath climbing down for dear life.
Well, the ogre didn’t like trusting himself to such a ladder, and he stood and waited, so Jack got another start. But just then the harp cried out, “Master! Master!” and the ogre swung himself down onto the beanstalk, which shook with his weight. Down climbs Jack, and after him climbed the ogre.
By this time Jack had climbed down and climbed down and climbed down till he was very nearly home. So he called out, “Mother! Mother! bring me an ax, bring me an ax.” And his mother came rushing out with the ax in her hand, but when she came to the Beanstalk, I mean, she looked up and she was just paralyzed with fear. For she saw the ogre with his legs, you know, just through the clouds.
Jack jumped down and got hold of the ax and gave a chop at the beanstalk which cut it half in two. The ogre felt the beanstalk shake and quiver, so he stopped to see what was the matter. Then Jack gave another chop with the ax, and the beanstalk was cut in two and started to topple over. Then the ogre fell down and broke his head open, and the beanstalk came tumbling after. him.
Then Jack showed his mother his golden harp, and what with showing that and selling the golden eggs, Jack and his mother became very rich, and he married a great princess, and they lived happy ever after.
Now, when I heard the story of Jack and the Beanstalk as a child, I was fascinated with these beans. And I think it’s kind of funny now as an adult, when I think of beans, I think of bean counters and dollars. I see these connections between our many sayings and metaphors and use of the beans for money, and the problem that mom and Jack faced in the story. I also think about the common saying, “it’s not going to be worth a hill of beans,” when we dismiss the value of something.
So here we have the story of Jack who takes a chance on the possibility of magic, of something beyond the limited calculations in which money has played such a central role for so very long. Old story. Apparently, we have been going round and round and around this typical logic, the economic analysis of dollar values for a while. And I note the comment that Jack’s mom made at the very beginning of the story.
Jack says that he’ll go find work and she says, “Well, we tried that once, and no one would have you.” In at the beginning of the story, at least for me, it seemed very ambiguous. Is he a fool? Does he have limited options, you know, because he can’t get a job? Well, quickly we realize no, he is someone with a broader view of what’s possible. Not afraid of hard work, but willing to take a chance.
And he trusted himself, even when he knew the danger. I noticed that little moment in the story where were told that he wasn’t content after stealing the hen. I mean, after he stole the hen, he had solved their financial problem, right? But does this hint at the desire possessed by some of us at least, to come alive in a life of adventure, and to explore the mysteries rather than stay safe, within the confines of the typical routines? To seek something beyond the material security.
Jack goes up the beanstalk three times and he steals something of value from the ogre and his wife every time. There’s kind of an interesting progression here. First, he steals a bag of gold and of course, Jack and his Mom spend it so all gone. Jack goes up again. And this time, he steals the heen that lays the golden eggs, a source of wealth that will not be exhausted as long as they stay within the limits of the hen, and the hen is alive. And finally, he steals the golden harp that sings and makes music, a treasure in perpetuity and of a completely different order.
This reminds me of an Irish fairy tale called “The Bee, the Harp, the Mouse, and the Bum-Clock.” A bum clock is a cockroach.In that story, there’s also a son named Jack and his mom, and they are also on hard times. And again, we have a young man who sells a cow for what seems like a stupid exchange and he ends up with something more valuable than a bag of coins. I told that story in a past episode, and will post the link to it with the transcript of this episode.
But let me circle back to this issue of outwitting the ogres in life, and the role that imagination and fairy tales can play to help us meet this challenge. So, we know human beings have told stories for a very long time. And this practice was and still is central to the evolution of human consciousness, learning, and community. It’s one way that we meet the world, that we make sense of it and create a home in it.
Over the millennia, our world has changed right? Changed as the human population grows, as cultures have developed and piled up in layers in some places on the earth. And over time, in the space of recorded history, more and more of the monsters that we meet are human or human made. Bad people, tyrants, and also social rules and conventions that we outgrow, or that oppress some number of us. The stories that we tell, the way that our stories change, and also the way we handle our stories are all part of this process.
So, looking at this story, there are many versions of Jack and the Beanstalk. It’s old, right, 5000 years. In some versions, Jack relies on cunning, and in others luck plays a central role. And there are also versions that attempt to weave a moral into the story. This typically requires significant alterations to the story, for example, in a version published by Benjamin Tabart in 1807, a fairy tells Jack that the items he will steal all belonged to his father, so he’s not stealing them. He’s avenging his father. Okay, well, that can be interesting. But it’s not the same story. And what is behind this insistence on a moral lesson?
I mean, I’m not opposed to morality. But there’s something here that strikes at the heart of our need for fairy tales in childhood and beyond, a need that we attempt to control. Plenty of people want to prescribe the right way to live, and to train all of us up from an early age to stay within the fences they erect. How does a story about magic beans and stealing gold fit into a culture that preaches the gospel of hard work to the poor, for example, while turning a blind eye to the theft committed by the rich?
Albert Einstein was once asked about ways that parents could support the development of their child’s abilities. He said, “if you want your children to be intelligent, read them fairy tales. if you want your children to be more intelligent, read them more fairy tales.”
Fairy tales refresh the heart and the spirit. They reconnect us to wonder and a sense of mystery about life, and in so doing, they awaken a sense of aliveness and also a sense of agency. A fairy tale can help us escape the restrictions of reality, and step into other worlds. When I say escape, you may think, oh, that’s bad, fantasy. But and yet, when we make the choice to leave the world that we will inhabit behind, we develop the ability to see what is arbitrary about that every day world. To see through the illusion of it. We develop the ability to view the problems of our real world, from a different perspective and imagine a solution.
To think creatively and freely. This is good for kids and it’s essential for adults. It’s a practice to take into adulthood, because it takes imagination to outwit the ogre. The ogre was big and strong and dangerous. But he lost his treasure because he couldn’t imagine a boy like Jack.
New things come into being new things are possible. When you change your framework and enter the perspective of “what if.” You know this podcast Myth Matters is one piece of the work that I do that I call mythic mojo. I also work with artists on creative projects, people who are actively engaged in bringing new things new visions into the world. And I work with individuals who in their own ways, want to bring something new into the world. Want to step into deeper or different purpose. To be more alive.
If you feel a need to change or experiment with different methods for reframing your life situation, the we should talk. I offer 30 minute exploratory conversations free of charge so that we can get a sense of what you’re after and whether or not the tools that I have are appropriate for you. You will find a link to schedule a call with me at my website mythicmojo.com.
When you go to mythicmojo.com, you’ll also find a transcript of this episode and past episodes, and you can also join the email list, if you’d like to receive links to new Myth Matters episodes in your inbox. A big welcome to new email subscribers: James, David, Anna, Larry, Antonia, Mike, Anne, Christopher, Janine, and Gaye. Welcome to Myth Matters!
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If we have a better understanding of our need for myth, and all that our old stories offer, we can live more satisfying lives. We can inhabit a better story and create a more beautiful, just and sustainable world.
And that’s it for me, Catherine Svehla and Myth Matters. Thank you for celebrating Tell a Fairy Tale day with me. I so appreciate your listening. Take good care of yourself and until next time, keep the mystery in your life alive.
Links:
Fairytales much older than previously thought, say researchers
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