The_Goose

The Goose Girl

My purpose is not to provide another retelling of "The Goose Girl," since the story is readily available elsewhere, but to analyze it as one of the most representative examples of what the form is about. However, every detail of the story is relevant, and so it seems simpler to provide the story itself first.

Once upon a time an old queen, whose husband had been dead for many years, had a beautiful daughter. When she grew up she was betrothed to a prince who lived a great way off. Now, when the time drew near for her to be married and to depart into a foreign kingdom, her old mother gave her much costly baggage, and many ornaments, gold and silver, trinkets and knicknacks, and, in fact, everything that belonged to a royal trousseau, for she loved her daughter very dearly. She gave her a waiting-maid also, who was to ride with her and hand her over to the bridegroom, and she provided each of them with a horse for the journey. Now the princess' horse was called Falada, and could speak.

When the time for departure drew near the old mother went to her bedroom, and taking a small knife she cut her fingers till they bled; then she held a white rag under them, and letting three drops of blood fall onto it, she gave it to her daughter, and said: "Dear child, take great care of this rag: it may be of use to you on the journey."

So they took a sad farewell of each other, and the Princess stuck the rag in front of her dress, mounted her horse, and set forth on the journey to her bridegroom's kingdom. After they had ridden for about an hour the Princess began to feel very thirsty, and said to her waiting-maid: "Pray get down and fetch me some water in my golden cup out of yonder stream: I would like a drink." "If you're thirsty," said the maid, "dismount yourself, and lie down by the water and drink: I don't mean to be your servant any longer." The Princess was so thirsty that she got down, bent over the stream, and drank, for she wasn't allowed to drink out of the golden goblet. As she drank she murmured: "Oh! heaven, what am I to do?" and the three drops of blood replied:

"If your mother only knew,

Her heart would surely break in two."

A.J. Ford. Late 19th century

Ford is generally very literal, but apparently lying on her stomach to drink seemed too undignified for a lady.

But the Princess was meek, and said nothing about her maid's rude behavior, and quietly mounted her horse again. They rode on their way for several miles, but the day was hot, and the sun's rays smote fiercely on them, so that the Princess was soon overcome by thirst again. And as they passed a brook she called once more to her waiting-maid: "Pray get down and give me a drink from my golden cup," for she had long ago forgotten her maid's rude words. But the waiting-maid replied, more haughtily than before: "If you want a drink you can dismount and get it; I don't mean to be your servant." Then the Princess was compelled by her thirst to get down, and bending over the flowing water she cried and said: "Oh! heaven, what am I to do?" and the three drops of blood replied:

"If your mother only knew,

Her heart would surely break in two."

And as she drank thus, and leant right over the water, the rag containing the three drops of blood fell from her bosom and floated down the stream, and she in her anxiety never even noticed her loss. But the waiting-maid had observed it with delight, as she knew it gave her power over the bride, for in losing the drops of blood the Princess had become weak and powerless. When she wished to get on her horse Falada again, the waiting-maid called out: "I mean to ride Falada: you must mount my beast;" and this too she had to submit to. Then the waiting-maid commanded her harshly to take off her royal robes, and to put on her common ones, and finally she made her swear by heaven not to say a word about the matter when they reached the palace; and if she hadn't taken this oath she would have been killed on the spot. But Falada observed everything, and laid it all to heart.

The waiting-maid now mounted Falada, and the real bride the worse horse, and so they continued their journey till at length they arrived at the palace yard. There was great rejoicing over the arrival, and the Prince sprang forward to meet them, and taking the waiting-maid for his bride he lifted her down from her horse and led her upstairs to the royal chamber. In the meantime the real Princess was left standing below in the courtyard. The old King, who was looking out of his windown, beheld her in this plight, and it struck him how sweet and gentle, even beautiful, she looked. He went at once to the royal chamber, and asked the bride who it was she had brought with her and had left thus standing in the court below. "Oh!" replied the bride, "I brought her with me to keep me company on the journey; give the girl something to do, that she mayn't be idle." But the old King had no work for her, and couldn't think of anything; so he said, "I've a small boy who looks after the geese, she'd better help him." The youth's name was Curdken, and the real bride was made to assist him in herding geese.

Soon after this the false bride said to the Prince: "Dearest husband, I pray you grant me a favor." He answered: "That I will." "Then let the slaughterer cut off the head of the horse I rode here upon, because it behaved very badly on the journey." But the truth was she was afraid lest the horse should speak and tell how she had treated the Princess. She carried her point, and the faithful Falada was doomed to die. When the news came to the ears of the real Princess she went to the slaughterer, and secretly promised him a piece of gold if he would do something for her. There was in the town a large dark gate, through which she had to pass night and morning with the geese; would he "kindly hang up Falada's head there, that she might see it once again?" The slaughterer said he would do as she desired, chopped off the head, and nailed it firmly over the gateway.

Arthur Rackham. Early 20th century

Early the next morning, as she and Curdken were driving their flock through the gate, she said as she passed under:

"Oh! Falada, 'tis you hanging there;"

and the head replied:

"'Tis you; pass under, Princess fair:

If your mother only knew,

Her heart would surely break in two."

Then she left the tower and drove the geese into a field. And when they had reached the common where the geese fed she sat down and unloosed her hair, which was of pure gold. Curdken loved to see it glitter in the sun, and wanted much to pull some hair out. Then she spoke:

"Wind, wind, gently sway,

Blow Curdken's hat away;

Let him chase o'er field and wold

Till my locks of ruddy gold,

Now astray and hanging down,

Be combed and plaited in a crown."

Then a gust of wind blew Curdken's hat away, and he had to chase it over hill and dale. When he returned from the pursuit she had finished her combing and curling, and his chance of getting any hair was gone. Curdken was very angry, and wouldn't speak to her. So they herded the geese till evening and then went home.

The next morning as they passed under the gate, the girl said:

"Oh! Falada, 'tis you hang there;"

and the head replied:

"'Tis you; pass under, Princess fair

If your mother only knew

Her heart would surely break in two."

A.J. Ford. Late 19th Century.

Then she went on her way till she came to the common, where she sat down and began to comb out her hair; then Curdken ran up to her and wanted to grasp some of the hair from her head, but she called out hastily:

"Wind, wind, gently sway,

Blow Curdken's hat away;

Let him chase o'er field and wold

Till my locks of ruddy gold,

Now astray and hanging down,

Be combed and plaited in a crown."

Then a puff of wind came and blew Curdken's hat far away, so that he had to run after it; and when he returned she had long finished putting up her golden locks, and he couldn't getr any hair; so they watched the geese till it was dark.

But that evening when they got home Curdken went to the old King and said: "I refuse to herd geese any longer with that girl." "For what reason?" asked the old King. "Because she does nothing but annoy me all day long," replied Curdken; and he proceeded to relate all her iniquities, and said: "Every morning as we drive the flock through the dark gate she says to a horse's head that hangs on the wall:

"Oh! Falada, 'tis you hang there;"

and the head replies:

"'Tis you; pass under, Princess fair:

If your mother only knew,

Her heart would surely break in two."

And Curdken went on to tell what passed on the common where the geese fed, and how he had always to chase his hat.

The old King bade him go and drive forth his flock as usual next day; and when morning came he himself took up his position behind the dark gate, and heard how the goose-girl greeted Falada. Then he followed her through the field, and hid himself behind a bush on the common. He soon saw with his own eyes how the goose-boy and the goose-girl looked after the geese, and how after a time the maiden sat down and loosed her hair, the glittered like gold and repeated:

"Wind, wind, gently sway,

Blow Curdken's hat away;

Let him chase o'er field and wold

Till my locks of ruddy gold,

Now astray and hanging down,

Be combed and plaited in a crown."

`Then a gust of wind came and blew Curdken's hat away, so that he had to fly over hill and dale after it, and the girl in the meantime quietly combed and plaited her hair: all this the old King observed, and returned to the palace without any one having noticed him. In the evening when the goose-girl came home he called her aside, and asked her why she behaved as she did. "I mayn't tell you why; how dare I confide my woes to anyone? for I swore not to by heaven, otherwise I should have lost my life." The old King begged her to tell him all, and left her no peace, but he could get nothing out of her. At last he said: "Well, if you won't tell me, confide your trouble to the iron stove there;" and he went away. Then she crept to the stove and began to sob and cry and to pour out her poor little heart and said: "Here I sit, deserted by all the world, I who am a king's daughter, and a false waiting-maid has forced me to take off my own clothes, and has taken my place with my bridegroom, while I have to fulfil the lowly office of goose-girl."

"If my mother only knew,

Her heart would surely break in two."

But the old king stood outside at the stove chimney, and listened to her words. Then he entered the room again, and bidding her leave the stove, he ordered royal apparel to be put on her, in which she looked amazingly lovely. Then he summoned his son and revealed to him that he had got the false bride, who was nothing but a waiting-maid, while the real one, in the guise of the ex-goose-girl, was standing at his side. The young King rejoiced from his heart when he saw her beauty and learnt how good she was, and a great banquet was prepared, to which everyone was bidden. The bridegroom sat at the head of the table, the Princess on one side of him and the waiting-maid on the other; but she was so dazzled that she did not recognize the Princess in her glittering garments. Now when they had eaten and drunk, and were merry, the old King asked the waiting-maid to solve a knotty point for him. "What," said he, "should be doneto a certain person who has deceived everyone?" and he proceeded to relate the whole story, ending up with, "Now what sentence should be passed?" Then the false bride answered: "She deserves to be put stark naked into a barrel lined with sharp nails, which should be dragged by two white horses up and down the street till she is dead."

"You are that person," said the King, "and you have passed sentence on yourself; and even so it shall be done to you." And when the sentence had been carried out the young King was married to his real bride, and both reigned over the kingdom in peace and happiness."

Fairy tales often have incomprehensible motivation, impossible dialogue, an absurd plot, and incoherent explanations, but this story is one of the more extreme. The fact that it remains popular, and that readers seldom seem to notice its absurdities is strong evidence that on a deeper level, there is something very right, and very true about it. May Hill Arbuthnot, in her classic children's literature textbook Children and Books calls it a romance, but it certainly is not that. The heroine bewails her loss of social status in losing her bridegroom, but expresses no personal feeling about him, while he seems perfectly satisfied with the wicked servant girl as long as he thinks she is the true princess. When they do get together at last, they are dealt with in a few formulaic cliches, while all the emphasis falls on the punishment of the wicked servant. Actually, this is a thoroughy solopsistic story. There is only one real character--the Princess, though she is not a character in the sense of having a developed personality. This, like many fairy tales is a passage of life story, in this case from childhood to adulthood. In stories about girls such a passage is always indicated by marriage. Horses are often involved in passage of life stories, for they are the ones who carry us through life. In this story, we will see, the horse is of paramount importance.

The opening is peculiar. The mother's husband, we hear, has been long dead, and we could almost assume that the girl is the result of some sort of immaculate conception, though perhaps it simply means that the father died before, or shortly after the girl was born. But why this detail at all? It seems totally unneccesary to the plot. It does, however, make this more exclusively a female mystery, and a female event.

This, by the way, was not how princesses were married--the parent or parents did not put the girl on a horse and say, "Go get him." Again, the story is paring itself down to the essential elements. There are only two travelers, and one is the alter-ego of the other.

Another unexplained detail of the story is the handkerchief with the three drops of blood that the mother secretly gives her daughter. This item adds nothing necessary to the story. If it is a secret, why does the servant girl seem to understand all about it, and to know that once it is lost she has the upper hand? How did, or could it help the girl on her journey, and how is she the weaker without it? Considering that this is a passage of life story for a girl, the clear suggestion is that it represents menstration, another sign of female maturity. Perhaps another sign is the fact that she places the cloth in her bosom for safekeeping; the fact that she has a bosom she can use thus is another sign of her maturation. The value of the handkerchief with the drops of blood is that it is a clear symbol of the Princess' adulthood, and its loss evidence of regression to childhood.

The relationship between Princess and servant makes little sense viewed realistically. Why would the Princess so easily let herself be bullied, and so quickly forget the other girl's behavior when she refused the first time to get the Princess a drink? Finally, there is the implausible fact of the servent not recognizing the Princess at the feast. The explantion that it was her dazzling clothing, is pretty lame. Obviously the Princess was quite splendidly dressed when she began her journey. The servant girl actually has no identity except as usurper of the Princess' identity. She is, in fact, the regressive tendency in the Princess herself. Passages of life are not easy, and they do not always go smoothly. Everyone has seen a small child temporarily revert to infancy, seeming to forget potty training and much else he has learned. We also see childish behaviour in older people.

One of the most memorable aspects of the story is the horse Falada whose role is as a witness to all that has happened. This horse is not an enchanted human, nor a talking animal in a story in which talking animals are to be expected. If he could talk, you might expect him to talk fast and save himself from execution, but this horse has no identity as an individual being. He has nothing to say except to the Princess, and to her only matters directly relevant to her relationship with her alter-ego, the servant girl. He is the life force that carries the girl forward, and gives the lie to any attempt to return to childhood. It is understandable that the servant girl wants to kill him, but ultimately he cannot be killed; even with his head cut off he still bears witness to the fact that the Princess is not a child, but a young woman.

Willy Pogany. Mid-20th century.

Few people probably fully embrace a regression to a less mature state, and the Princess, herself, is ambiguous about it. She not only has the talking head perserved, but communicates with it. And, when she gets to the field, she tries out her sexual attractiveness. The close symbolic association between hair and sex will be discussed in another essay, but it is a well known one, especially well illustrated in Alexander Pope's Rape of the Lock. If hair is a symbol of female sexuality, hats are an equally well-known symbol of male sexuality. When the boy attempts to grab her hair, she makes the wind blow his hat off, and he can't get it back in time to carry out his intentions. Knowing what the boy is like, she could logically put her hair up before heading out, but she is teasing him as a way of testing her adult sexuality.

An obvious question, but one that no one seems to ask is, how old is the girl, and how old is the boy? The girl is old enough to get married, and to make a journey on her own. The boy, on the other hand, is of an age to grab someone's hair because he thinks it's pretty. The boy is obviously a child, and he has a child's job. Keeping an eye on a flock of geese is a job for someone too young to do any real work. To be made his assistant is to be relegated to the status of a six year old, or thereabout. If the girl had any maturity at all, she surely should not need the help of a magic charm to keep him off her. At this point in the story a young woman has literally been turned into a small child, at least when she is not combing out her hair. In pictures of this scene she usually looks older, prettier, and sexier than anywhere else.

The wise old man who comes to the aid of the young traveler with advice, a magic object, or some other sort of help appears in the story as the old King. He is the one who looks beyond the false Princess, and sees the true one waiting outside, and he is the one who uncovers the true state of affairs. This archetypal figure seems to represent the hero's higher intellect. He also arranges the feast with the Prince seated between the false and the true Princess.

At the feast the false Princess not only fails to recognize the true Princess, but she also fails to recognize that the old King is not giving a hypothetical example, but telling her detail for detail the story of her own actions. Most surprising of all is the fact that the false Princess immediately suggests a surprisingly elaborate and unique punishment. Nothing in all this is even remotely realistic, but it supports the symbolic pattern very well.

At the end of the story we are back to horses again. Not Falada--he has served his function in the story, to be a witness, and so we hear no more of him. However, there are two more horses, white ones. The guilty person is to be put naked in a barrel. This is a womb image, and would be the ultimate outcome of an actually successful regression. But one cannot truly go back, and the attempt is merely self-destructive. This womb is no longer a warm haven, but is studded with nails, and continually being agitated by being dragged over the cobbles by horses, the life force that carries you along, willing or not.

Whatever her difficulties on the way, the Princess does make the journey and, in spite of a setback, makes it successfully. She marries the Prince, and they live happily ever after. This is typical of fairy tales--in the vast majority of them a healthy resolution is achieved, however perverse the circumstances along the way.