Prince Lindworm and the Unembraceable

 

In this Norwegian (oops, I mean Danish) fairy tale, the queen makes a mistake.

That’s not the whole story.  

There’s also a dragon.  And an opportunity to reflect on our fallibility, the tendency to blame…

the problems embedded in our story inheritance, and the empathy we might develop through imaginative engagement with what angers and disturbs us.

Transcript of Prince Lindworm and the Unembraceable 

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. 

Hello, my friend. I hope that you had an opportunity to engage with the recent full moon and perhaps catch a glimpse of the total lunar eclipse, which was pretty spectacular. This full moon marked the end of my online story work course called Step into the Fairy Glen. It was a pretty amazing journey for those of us who engaged and completed it, and it got me thinking about other stories that I’ve worked with that have taken me into the depths, so to speak. 

One of these is a Norwegian fairy tale “The Prince Lindworm.”This story was gifted to me some years ago by my dear friend, poet, and patron of this podcast, Cynthia. It’s a story that I’ve worked with quite a bit and so I thought, okay, yes, let’s tell the lindworm. 

(Oops! I’ve subsequently learned that this is a Danish story! My mistake:)).

But as the time approached for me to do this recording, I felt ambivalence coming up. Ambivalence because there’s a part of the story that to be honest, has always bugged me.And right now, it’s really just not sitting well… which ultimately, I’ve taken as an invitation to investigate with you today. If you listen to this podcast regularly, you know that I always invite you to find your moment in the story. I think this is a very powerful tool and a way for us to understand what the old stories have to offer us. 

That moment can be something that you really like about the story, can be something that’s very puzzling, and it could also be something that you really don’t like. This story falls into that last category for me. In stories, as in life, the things that present themselves to us as difficulties often reveal themselves to be the greatest opportunity,so let me tell you the story. Afterwards, I’ll unpack with you and for you, a bit of my moment in the story, and where that’s taken me. 

I invite you to relax and listen to the story. Let the energy of the story take you away from this time and space. There will be a moment in the story or detail that feels particularly significant to you. That catches your attention. Note it without lingering for now. 

The Norwegian fairy tale called “The Prince Lindworm”

Once upon a time, there was a very fine king who was married to a beautiful queen. They were very happy together and they had everything that they needed, except for one thing. They didn’t have any children and this made both of them sad. The queen wanted a child to play with and the king wanted an heir to the kingdom. 

One day, the queen went out for a walk by herself. She met an ugly old woman. This old woman was a witch. She asked the queen, “Why do you look so sad? What’s troubling you?” “Well, there’s really no point in me talking to you about it” said the queen. “Nobody in the world can help me.” “Oh, you never know,” said the old witch. “Tell me the nature of your trouble and maybe I can help. Maybe I can put things right.” 

Well, the queen was doubtful but she said to the witch, “The King and I don’t have any children and this is why I’m distressed.” “Hmm” said the witch, “I think I can fix that if you will do exactly what I tell you to do. Tonight at sunset, take a little drinking cup with two handles and put it upside down on the ground in the northwest corner of your garden. Tomorrow morning at sunrise, go out to your garden and you will find two roses underneath the cup, a red one and a white one. If you eat the red rose, then you will have a little boy. If you eat the white rose, you will have a little girl. So, take your choice, boy or girl, but whatever you do, don’t eat both of the roses.”

“Oh, thank you” said the queen, and she felt a little ray of hope. She took off one of her gold rings to give to the witch in payment. But the witch said “No, I don’t need that. “

The queen went home and she figured that she didn’t have anything to lose, so she did what the witch suggested. The next morning at sunrise, she quietly crept out into the garden and lifted up the little drinking cup. Lo and behold, there were two roses, just as the witch had said there would be– a red one and a white one. 

Well, now she had a little bit of a dilemma. Which would she choose? “If I choose to red one” the queen thought, “then I will have a little boy. That would be incredible. But he might grow up and go to war and be killed. And then I won’t have a child. But if I choose the white one, and I have a little girl, well, eventually she’ll grow up and get married and then she’ll go away with her husband and leave us. So whichever way it works, I’m probably going to be left with no child at all.” 

At last, she decided on the white rose, and she ate it. That rose tasted so sweet that she picked up the red one and ate it too, without even remembering the old witch’s warning. 

In a short while the queen was pregnant. Sometime after that, the king had to go away to the wars. While he was away her time came, and the queen gave birth to twins. One baby was a lovely healthy boy and the other was a Lindworm. (A lindworm is a kind of little dragon).

The queen was very frightened when she saw the Lindworm. But he quickly wriggled away out of the room and it didn’t seem like anybody saw him except for the queen. No one said a word. So, she started thinking maybe it was simply a bad dream. 

The baby prince was so beautiful and he made her so happy. When the king came home he was thrilled to find his son and heir. The queen thought about the Lindworm every now and again and over time convinced herself that yes, it was merely a dream. 

The days and the years went by and the baby grew up into a handsome prince. It was time that he should get married. His father, the king, sent him off to visit neighboring kingdoms in search of a wife. He got a fancy coach drawn by six white horses, and the he got dressed up and the prince went off in search of his bride. 

But at the very first crossroads, the way was blocked by an enormous Lindworm, a huge, ugly thing. He laid there in the middle of the road with his gaping mouth wide open, and cried out “A bride for me before a bride for you.” The prince did not know what to make of this and he turned around and they took the coach off down another road. As soon as they got to an intersection, there was that damn Lindworm again with his great toothy mouth, crying “A bride for me before a bride for you.” The prince turned around again. 

They tried every road that led out of the kingdom and at every intersection, they were met by the Lindworm. The prince had to turn around and go back home to the castle. 

When he got home, the prince told his parents about the Lindworm and the queen was compelled to confess that what the Lindworm said was true. He was the eldest of her twins, and so he ought to have a wedding first. It seemed like there was nothing to be done. They were simply going to have to find a bride for the Lindworm if the younger brother, the other prince, was going to marry. 

The king thought about it and decided to write to a distant country and ask for a princess to marry his son. Of course, he did not give a lot of details about this son, and pretty soon the princess arrived, and she was not allowed to see her groom until he stood by her side in the great hall and was married to her, and then it was too late for her to back out of anything. 

The couple was escorted to the bridal chamber. The next morning when the servants arrived, the Lindworm lay sleeping all alone and it was quite plain that he had eaten the princess. 

Well, after a little while the prince decided that now that his elder brother the Lindworm had been married, he might commence his journey in search of a princess of his own. Again, he drove off in the fine carriage drawn by six white horses.

But at that first crossroad, there was the Lindworm lying in the middle of the road with his great huge mouth open, crying “A bride for me before a bride before you.” 

Once again, the prince had to turn around. He tried another road. At that intersection there was the Lindworm, crying just as he had before. In the end, the prince had to go back home and tell his parents, “We still have a problem with the Lindworm.”

The king was a little concerned about how he was going to find another princess, so he decided to write to several foreign countries very, very far away in distant lands. At last, another princess did arrive. Of course, she wasn’t allowed to see her future husband until the wedding took place. And then, to her great dismay, it was the Lindworm. 

The couple was escorted to the bridal chamber. The next morning when the servants arrived, the princess had disappeared. The Lindworm lay sleeping all alone, and it was quite plain that he had eaten her. 

By and by the prince took up his quest for a bride for the third time. At the first crossroads, there lay the Lindworm with his great, wide, horrible mouth, demanding a bride just as he had done before. The prince went straight back to the castle and told the king, “You’ve got to find another bride for my elder brother.” “Well, I don’t know where I’m going to find her,” said the king. “I’ve already made enemies of two great kings who sent their daughters here as brides and I have no idea how I’m going to obtain a third lady. People are beginning to say some strange things even though we’re trying to keep this affair very hush hush. I can’t imagine that another princess is going to agree to come.”

The king went out, got on his horse, and went for a little ride to consider this problem. Down in a little cottage near the woods, he came across his shepherd. Now, the king’s shepherd was a loyal servant, an old man who lived alone with his only daughter. When the king saw him, he said, “Will you give your daughter to me? If you give me your daughter, to marry my son, the Prince Lindworm, I will make you rich for the rest of your life.

 “Oh, no sire” said the shepherd, “I can’t do that. Why she’s my only child. I want her to take care of me when I’m old.” The king insisted. The old shepherd said, “No, she’s my only daughter. And besides, if the Lindworm wouldn’t spare those two princesses, he’s not going to spare my daughter. He’s simply going to gobble her up and she is much too good for such a fate. “

But, the king was the king and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. At last, the old shepherd had to give in. When the shepherd told his daughter that she was to be Prince Lindworm’s bride, she was in utter despair. She went out into the woods, crying and wringing her hands, and bewailing her hard fate. What was she going to do? How was she going to get out of this? 

She wandered back and forth. Then an old witch woman suddenly appeared from the hollow of a big oak tree. “Why, what’s the trouble, young lady?” she asked. The shepherd girl said “Well, there’s really no point in me talking to you about it. I won’t burden you with my troubles. There’s no one in the world who can help me.” “Oh, you never know,” said the old witch. “Tell me the nature of your trouble and maybe I can help. Maybe I can put things right. ” 

“I don’t know how you can help me” said the girl, “I am to be married to the king’s eldest son, who is a Lindworm. He’s already married two beautiful princesses and eaten them. He will eat me too. This is why I am distressed.”

“Hmm” said the witch, “I think I can fix that if you will do exactly what I tell you to do.” “I’m listening,” said the girl. “After the marriage ceremony is over” said the witch woman, “when it’s time for you to retire, you must ask to be dressed in 10 snow white shifts. You must ask for a towel, a tub of lye, a tub full of fresh milk, and as many whips as a boy can carry in his arms. Have all of these brought into your bed chamber. When the Lindworm tells you to undress and shed a shift, you ask him to shed a skin. When all of his skins are off, you must dip the whips in lye and whip him. Then bathe him in the fresh milk. Finally, you must take him and hold him in your arms, even if it’s only for one moment.” 

“Oh my God, I was willing until that last part” said the shepherd’s daughter. She shuddered at the thought of holding this cold, slimy, gruesome Lindworm. “If you do just as I’ve said, all will go well” said the old witch. Then she disappeared into the oak tree. 

Very soon after, the king’s servants came to get the girl. They put her into the royal carriage drawn by six white horses and took her to the castle, to be decked out for her wedding day. When she arrived, she asked them to bring her 10 snow white shifts, a tub of lye, a tub of milk, and as many whips as a boy could carry in his arms. Well, the ladies and the courtiers and the servants all thought this was just some ridiculous bit of peasant superstition. They wanted to refuse her but the king heard about it and he said, “No, no, let her have whatever she asks for.” 

The girl was dressed in wonderful robes. She really looked beautiful. Then she was led into the hall for the wedding ceremony. Like the others, she saw the Lindworm for the first time when he came in, stood by her side, and they were married. There was a great wedding feast. A banquet fit for the son of a king. When that was all over, the bridegroom and his bride were conducted to their bridal chamber. 

As soon as the door was shut, the Lindworm turned to the girl and said, “Fair maiden, shed a shift.” The shepherd’s daughter said, “Prince Lindworm shed a skin.” “No one has ever dared tell me to do that before” he said. “Well, I command you to do it now,” she said. He began to moan and wriggle and in a few minutes, a long skin lay on the floor beside him. The girl drew off her first shift and spread it on top of the skin. 

The Lindworm said “Fair maiden shed a shift.” The shepherd’s daughter answered “Prince Lindworm, shed a skin.” “No one has ever dared tell me to do that before” he said. “I command you to do it now,” she said. With groans and moans he cast off a second skin and she covered it with her second shift. 

A third time the Lindworm said “Fair maiden shed a shift.” Again, she told him to shed a skin. “No one has ever dared to tell me that before” he said, and his eyes started rolling furiously and he looked pretty scary. But the girl wasn’t afraid and once more she commanded him to do as she had said. This went on until there were nine Lindworm skins laying on the floor, each one of them covered with a snow white shift. 

Now there was little left of the Lindworm. He was a horrible, gloppy, thick mass. The girl grabbed the whips, dipped them in lye, and whipped him as hard as she could. She beat the Lindworm to a pulp. Then she bathed him with the fresh milk. Finally, she dragged him up onto the bed, put her arms around him, and fell fast asleep. 

Very early the next morning, the king and the courtiers came to the chamber. They were curious and afraid to see what might be behind the door. They wanted to know what had become of the girl but they were afraid to enter the room. They opened the door just a tiny bit and there was the young woman, looking fresh and beautiful. Beside her lay the handsomest prince that anyone could wish to see. 

The king went to fetch the queen. After that there was such rejoicing in the castle, as was never known before or since. The wedding took place all over again, much finer than the first, with festivals and banquets and partying that went on for days and weeks. 

No bride was ever so beloved by a king and queen as this shepherd’s daughter and there was no end to their love and kindness toward her. By her good sense, and calmness and courage, she had saved their son, the Prince Lindworm. 

Well, there is so much in this story, and now that I’ve told it to you, I can think of hours-worth of things that I can say about it. But I’m going to stick –for our mutual benefit –to unpacking the moment in the story that has bothered me so much. It has to do with the queen. 

It’s the Queen, damn her, eating those two roses. She makes a mistake. She makes a mistake. It’s easy for me to see that I don’t like that because it feels to be an iteration on the old myths and the old themes, cycling through our cultures for millennia, that woman is the root of all evil. That women are susceptible and foolish. And when I look at this, I see the internalized misogyny. The consequences here, the idea that a woman can’t afford to make a mistake. And that according to some people, according to some people and many, many of our old stories, that’s all we are. That’s all I am as a woman. 

We are a mistake. We are not really even human. We are inferior. We are here for one purpose and one purpose only. This is more than an inconvenience and an irritation and a drag on my self-esteem, perhaps. These stories are costing women their lives.

Now, this idea that women are the source of all of our problems and that specifically, we’re a problem because we can’t restrain ourselves, because we lack any self-control and common sense,  might remind you as it does me, of the ancient Greek myth of Pandora. In that myth, Pandora opens “Pandora’s box” and all of the evils in the world are let loose.

This is a very convenient story because we know who to blame right? For everything that we don’t like. For everything that goes wrong. For every single problem faced by humanity. It’s the beautiful woman who couldn’t let well enough alone. The woman who couldn’t restrain herself. There is a really brilliant exposition of this myth and the image of Pandora in a book titled Pandora’s Jar: Women in Greek Myths by Natalie Haynes. Highly recommend. I’ve mentioned it on this podcast before. 

As Haynes explains, this popular version of Pandora, as this beautiful but silly or even potentially evil woman, who opens the box and lets loose everything that’s awful actually came into being about the 16th century, when a philosopher named Erasmus translated the ancient Greek story told by Hesiod into Latin. Now, Erasmus confused the translation, or and perhaps, he confused stories. He may have mixed up the story of Pandora with the story of Psyche and Eros. 

I recently told the story of Psyche and Eros on this podcast so you may remember that, or you can go and listen to it. Psyche opens a box of Persephone’s beauty that she has brought up from the underworld. 

Now, this image of woman as the source of all the trouble in the world, is found in the ancient Greek. Hesiod does not say that Pandora has a box. But he does describe her as a beautiful evil. A beautiful evil, but she is situated in a larger story that I’d like to think about for just a moment. Pandora is given to man. She’s the first woman. She is given to men as a gift from Zeus. And Zeus basically sets up mankind because he’s angry at Prometheus for stealing fire and other tricks. Zeus creates Pandora to be irresistible and the other gods and goddesses participate and give her every possible gift. They put her on Earth where she is found by Epimetheus,  Prometheus’s brother, who is impulsive, not too thoughtful. He doesn’t have his brother’s ability to restrain himself. 

Epimetheus accepts the gift of Pandora despite the fact that his brother Prometheus has warned him not to accept anything from Zeus. So, although Hesiod takes a very dim view of Pandora, she is in the middle of an argument among men, mortal and immortal, about trickery and revenge and blame, and who is susceptible to whom.

In this story and others that constellate around it, you know, I sense this connection between power and knowledge…power and knowledge acquired by humanity as part of the elevation of our species. There are a number of stories like this that can be read as a reflections on our attempt, or maybe on our biological, historical evolution, to become more and  move closer to the status of the gods. This is one of the themes that you can read into the Garden of Eden, one of the most influential stories in my culture and perhaps yours. In the Garden of Eden, Eve is tempted by the serpent to eat an apple from the tree of knowledge. The tree of knowledge. And then suddenly she knows things, and so does Adam when he eats the apple too at her invitation. We are not supposed to become more than what the gods made us to be. And yet, we do aspire to be more. And you can read our entire evolutionary history from this perspective. 

Of course, there’s a problem. There is one thing that separates us from the gods. That is our mortality. We die. And I find myself wondering if that is the ultimate disappointment that continues to be laid at the feet of all females these days, that no matter what we do, we die. And somehow, then this is our fault. But I want to return to the story here with these thoughts in mind.

When I forgive the queen for her mistake, then I notice that all of the action in the story really is handled by women, by female characters. The agents of change are the queen, the old woman, and the shepherd’s daughter. So, we have all of these female characters and then there’s this question about the Lindworm and the roses. Maybe this occurred to you as I told the story. The Queen is given the two roses and if she eats one of them, she’ll give birth to a daughter, and if she eats the other one she’ll give birth to a son. She has to make a choice there. She eats both roses and somehow she ends up with the Prince and Lindworm, which is male. Interesting, huh. 

Now, this Lindworm as I mentioned, is kind of a small dragon. Staying in this European tradition, the dragons often ate young virgins. Interesting in the story, that the intended sacrifice, through an alchemical process, transforms that dragon and saves herself and everyone else.

Now, the dragon, depending on the cultural tradition, is either revered or reviled. In China, for example, the dragon is imagined to be wise. The dragon is connected to the earth and to longevity. That image is evoked as part of a desire for wisdom. Connection to knowledge there again, though of course, they’re not quite the same thing, are they?

In the European tradition and the Levant, that is the Middle East, the dragon’s root image is found in stories of the Leviathan, that is the sea monster who again, threatens human beings and particularly young women. And that serpent in the garden. 

The dragon is male, evil, and over time became a face of Satan. So you see, we have Eve, the female who was susceptible to the advice and encouragement of the serpent, evolving over time to be the woman who is the willing consort of Satan.

You see this a little bit in one of the more famous medieval stories about dragons, St. George and the Dragon. Here you have St. George, and he goes to this town that’s being threatened by a dragon and he subdues the dragon, thereby winning the hand of the princess. And then he does something really interesting. St. George goes around to the townspeople who had been threatened by the dragon. And he now threatens them with the dragon, and offers them the choice of either being eaten by the dragon, or converting to Christianity. And so they convert, and then he kills the dragon. 

Now, some of us might be listening to this conversion story and going “yikes, right.” Some of it strikes a little bit close to home, metaphorically. And yet at the time of this story, that was right. That was a good story. That was a great outcome. St. George was a hero. My point being that things change. 

Things change. And you know, I can’t help but notice that the dragon is also an alchemical symbol. The dragon was an important symbol in European alchemy, for renewal. Renewal and the unconscious, which is part of the associated danger, the idea being that something bubbles up or erupts from the unconscious in us as individuals, or as a culture. And what comes up, this unconscious content, carries the possibility of rebirth. The dragon in its connections to the serpent is a symbol of rebirth, and renewal, and eternity. 

We all make mistakes, right? We all make mistakes, and they are revealed to us over time. They’re revealed to us over time, and the need to have compassion for ourselves and for others, to recognize our inherent fallibility. I don’t think this is the same thing as making excuses for the real harm that is being done. I don’t think it means shirking our moral responsibilities, avoiding taking positions or suppressing our outrage. And yet there’s also a place below and beyond opposition, right? 

The existence of this place is so beautifully described by the Sufi poet Rumi, who writes:

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and right doing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there. When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about ideas, language. Even the phrase each other doesn’t make any sense.”

Well, we’ve made quite a journey here together my friend, from a story about a lindworm who eats princesses and my feelings about this queen who makes mistakes. Because here we are, living a life in which we make choices. There are decisions and consequences. Sometimes we make mistakes, and we find ourselves in a world that changes. And through all of this, we have one great gift, which is our imagination. Our imagination, which is the birthplace of our capacities for empathy, and compassion. In the language of our story, through empathy, we can find the courage to embrace the unembraceable.

Before we part ways, I want to give a big welcome to new subscribers: Casey, Tim, Sheila, Sharon, Vanessa, Elizabeth, Mel, Sandy, Madeline, and Francesco. Welcome!

If you’re new to Myth Matters, I invite you to head over to the Mythic Mojo website, where you can get one the email list, find a transcript of this episode, and find information about my other offerings and work with people. 

You’ll also find  the link to Myth Matters on Patreon. I am very grateful for the patrons and supporters of this podcast– Carolyn, Cynthia, Jennessee, and Katherine- thank you! 

Feel free to email me with your questions and comments always love to hear from you.

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 so much for listening. Take good care of yourself and until next time, keep the mystery in your life alive.