The theme this month for the Scheherazade Project is to insert a fictionalized version of yourself into a short story or poem or other work. Since I’ve been researching fairy tales recently, for a book I’m working on (because I don’t already have enough to do), it seemed appropriate to choose a fairy tale to work with. So the question then became, which fairy tale. Well, one immediately jumped out at me. Prudent Hans. Or, as I like to call it, Simple Hans. Stupid Hans. Dumb Hans. Any of those will do. So, without further ado:
Simple Hans
One day Hans was getting ready to leave the house. His mother asked where he was going, and he told her he was going to see Grethel.
“What are you taking her?” his sister Else asked.
“None of your business,” he said rudely, and shoved his way past her. Else was a busybody old maid and didn’t know anything! Always sticking her nose in a fellow’s business! When he arrived at Grethel’s house, she asked what he had brought her. “Nothing,” he smiled, “but I want something.” He puckered his lips and leaned forward slightly, but to his dismay she handed him a needle.
“Good-bye, Hans,” she said, smiling.
He shrugged, said good-bye, and left. As he was walking home, a hay-cart passed him. He stuck the needle in the pile of hay and followed the cart home. When he got to the house, his pesky old-maid sister was standing on the doorstep waiting for him.
“Well, what did Grethel give you?” she asked him teasingly.
He scowled at her and went into the house.
When he told his mother what he had done with the needle, she scolded him. “That was a foolish thing to do, my son! You should have stuck the needle in your sleeve!”
The next day as he was leaving for Grethel’s house again, Else said, “Why don’t you take her some flowers?”
He stared at her blankly. “She has a whole garden of flowers. Why should I take her more flowers?” He laughed merrily all the way to Grethel’s house. What a silly girl his sister was. No wonder she was an old maid! Twenty years old, and still unmarried!
When he got to Grethel’s home, she smiled coyly at him and asked what he had brought her. “Nothing, but I would like something from you.” Once more he leaned forward, puckered his lips and waited. This time she handed him a knife. Remembering what his mother had said yesterday, he stuck the knife in his sleeve and went home.
His mother clucked her tongue as she mended his shirt. “You should have put the knife in your pocket, my darling son.”
Else was doubled over, laughing at him, tears streaming down her face.
He glared at her. “You foolish girl! No wonder none of the men in the village have looked twice at you!”
She put out her tongue at him. “They have looked twice, and thrice, but I have not looked back.”
Their mother gasped. “You saucy minx! Get back to your chores this minute, and mind that tongue of yours!” She turned back to Hans. “My darling son, be wise.”
The next day as Hans was preparing to leave the house, Else said, “Hans, I have made some kuchen. Perhaps you would like to take some for Grethel.”
Hans turned up his nose at her. “Grethel is a much better baker than you. I would not dream of insulting her by taking her any kuchen that you have made.” And he left.
When he arrived at Grethel’s house, she said, “Good day, Hans. What have you brought me today?”
“I have brought you nothing,” he said, hopeful that today he would finally get his wish, “but I would like to take away something.”
Alas, she gave him a young goat. “Good-bye, Hans.”
Hans carried the goat away, tied its legs together and put it in his pocket. By the time he got home, the goat was suffocated.
“Oh, my Hans, you should have tied a cord around its neck and led it home.”
“I will remember better next time, Mother.”
Else just shook her head.
The next day Else didn’t even try to offer him anything to take to Grethel. That was a good thing. Grethel was far above anything Else could provide. And that day Grethel gave him a piece of bacon to take home with him. So, remembering his mother’s counsel, he tied a piece of string around it and led it home.
The dogs came and ate it up, and when he got to his house, there was nothing left but the string itself. When he told his mother what happened, she shook her head and sighed. “Ach, liebchen, you behaved very stupidly. You ought to have carried the bacon on your head.”
“I will do better next time, mother.” And he did. On the morrow Grethel gave him a calf. So he obediently carried it away on his head, and it kicked him in the face and about the ears. He had very hard work of it not to use words unbecoming a good man, he was becoming so angry. When he got home, he put the calf into the barn and, it must be admitted, he kicked it. Hard.
Else was peeping through the curtains, and he caught a glimpse of her merry eyes. He shook his fist at her, and her face disappeared quickly from the window.
His mother came out the door. “What have you done now, Hans?”
He told her the story, and she shook her head. “No, no, no, no, no! Hans! No! You ought to have led home the calf and tied it to the manger.”
“Yes, mother. I am sorry to be so stupid.”
“This must stop, Hans!” she warned him sternly.
“Yes, mother. It will stop,” he said obediently.
So on the next day when Hans asked Grethel for something to take away with him, she said, “I think you ought to take me away with you.”
Hans tied a rope around her neck, led her away home, fastened her to the manager, and went in the house and proudly told his mother what he had done.
Else was not in the room. He secretly wished she were, so that she could hear for once that he had done something right.
But he was horrified to hear his mother chastising him again. “No, Hans! You ought to have cast sheep’s eyes at Grethel!”
“All right, Mother! I’ll do better next time,” he promised frantically, and he ran from the room.
Just then Else came in. “What has Hans done now, Mother?” she asked resignedly. When she heard the story, and heard the advice that he had been given, she screamed loud and long. “You told him what? Mother, you are so stupid!” She ran out of the house and into the barn. But she was too late.
Hans had pulled the eyes out of the sheep and threw them into Grethel’s face.
Grethel was screaming hysterically.
Hans stood there stupidly, wondering what was wrong.
Else untied the rope around Grethel’s neck, and said, “Get away while the getting’s good, you silly girl. I never understood what you saw in my simple brother anyway!”
Grethel ran away to become the bride of another.
Had justice been served, Simple Hans would never have found a bride, and Else would have ended up running the farm and would have become wealthy and her wisdom would have been recognized by all. However, Hans soon found a pretty girl who was even more simple than he, and they had a dozen fat babies. Else ran away before their wedding day, and no one knows what happened to her.
Hee. I like more than words can say…
So did I fictionalize myself pretty accurately?
Not too shabby.
Great retelling! Really enjoyed it! I particularly like the line: “He had very hard work of it not to use words unbecoming a good man.” 🙂
[…] version of the story, involving a courtship rather than work. Chaucerian Girl has done a very nice retelling of this story, adding herself as the sister of Hans. You may need to explain that “casting […]