FEMININE POWER IN A FAIRY TALE

DAVID L. HART

Without defining what the feminine is, many fairy tales reveal

it to be a decisive and fateful power, whose overall effect for good or

ill depends substantially on the state of that human consciousness

that confronts it. It can thus be seen in many different ways, negative

or positive, depending on who meets it and in what way. The

outcome of a story will rest on the spiritual qualities of that hero who

is called upon to deal with this power, for those very qualities are

essential to its transformation back into its true nature.

To illustrate this vital state of affairs, let us look at a fairy tale

from Iceland.

Hildur the Elf Queen1

There was once a farmer who lived on a certain farm in the

mountains, though neither his name nor that of the farm is recorded.

He was a bachelor and had a housekeeper named Hildur.

She was in charge of all indoor work on the farm, and was well

liked by the housefolk, including the farmer himself; but she kept

her distance from him, being a reserved woman and somewhat

silent, though pleasant enough and easy to get on with.

The farmer's affairs were in a flourishing state in all but one

respect; he was an excellent sheepfarmer and attached great importance

to the proper care of his flock, but he had unusual difficulty

in hiring shepherds.

It was not that he treated his shepherds harshly, or that there

were any shortcomings on the part of Hildur; it just happened that

none of the shepherds hired by him ever reached old age, for every

man of them was found on Christmas morning dead in his bed.

In those days it was the custom throughout the country for

church service to be held on Christmas Eve, which was then considered

no less solemn an occasion than Christmas Day itself. But

on those mountain farms which were far from church, it was no

easy matter for folk to get to the service in good time, especially

those who were not able to leave before the Seven Stars were well

above the horizon when the shepherds came home. However, in

this farm they had no trouble finding someone to watch the house

while the others were in church—Hildur always offered to do this

while she got on with the work of making ready for the festival.

She would stay up late into the night, preparing food and dealing

with other necessary matters, so that the churchgoers were sometimes

back from the service, in their beds asleep, before Hildur

went to bed herself.

For some time now there had been this trouble of the shepherds

dying on Christmas Day. Word began to get about all over

the district, and the farmer had the greatest difficulty in hiring

men for the work, though there was never any suspicion, either

against the farmer or his people, for the shepherds were all found

without any mark or wound on them.

Finally the farmer declared that he could no longer have it on

his conscience to hire men to their certain death; so in future, how

his flock and his farming might fare, fate alone must decide.

When the farmer had made up his mind about this and was

firmly resolved not to hire another shepherd, a man came to him

one day and offered his services. He was a strong, sturdy looking

fellow.

"I have no need of your services," said the farmer.

"Have you hired a shepherd for the season?" asked the

stranger.

The farmer replied that he had not; nor had he any intention

of doing so. "I dare say you have heard about the disasters that

have befallen all my shepherds up to now," he said.

"I have heard," answered the stranger; "but their fate

would not frighten me from watching your flock, if you will have

me."

Since he urged this so earnestly, in the end the farmer gave

way and hired him as shepherd. After that, some time passed, and

each got on well with the other, farmer and shepherd; everyone

else liked the shepherd, too, for he was well-mannered, brave,

and energetic in doing whatever lay to hand.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened, until Christmas time

arrived. Then, as usual, the farmer and his people set off for

church; all, that is, except the housekeeper, who stayed at home,

and the shepherd who was out watching over the sheep.

Evening drew on, and the shepherd came home as usual. He

ate his supper and went to bed.

Although he was without fear, it now entered his mind that it

might be wiser to wake than sleep, whatever might befall; and so

he lay awake.

When it was very late he heard the churchgoers returning

home. They got themselves a bite to eat, and then went to bed.

The shepherd was still aware of nothing unusual; but about

the time when it seemed to him that everyone was asleep, he

began to feel a strange weakness, as if the strength had been

drained out of him, though this was scarcely surprising to one

weary after the day's work. Nevertheless he felt sure that it would

go ill with him if he let sleep overcome him, and so he used all his

will power to keep himself awake.

A short time passed by, and then he heard someone coming

to his bedside, and he seemed to sense that it was Hildur the

housekeeper. He pretended to be fast asleep, and felt her push

something into his mouth. He realized that it was a witch bridle,

but let her put it on him.

When Hildur had harnessed him, she led him gently out,

mounted on his back, and rode him as hard as she could, until they

came to a place where there was a kind of pit or chasm in the

ground. There Hildur dismounted beside a rock and made fast the

reins. After that she vanished from sight down into the chasm.

The shepherd found it little to his liking or to the satisfaction

of his curiosity to lose sight of Hildur in this way. At the same time

he could not follow because of the magic that was in the bridle.

However, he managed to rub his head against the rock until he got

the bridle off. Then he dived down into the chasm after Hildur.

He had not gone far—or so it seemed to him—when he saw

her in front of him. She had come to a fair, smooth meadow and

was walking quickly across it. By now the shepherd had realized

that Hildur was not what she seemed to be. He thought, too, that

she was sure to see him if he followed her over the meadow, so he

took out a stone of invisibility that he carried in his pocket and held

it in the palm of his left hand. Then he hurried after Hildur as fast

as he could. As he crossed over the meadow, a large and magnificent

palace came into view. Hildur went straight towards it, and

the shepherd saw a great mob of people coming out of the palace

to meet her. They were led by a man dressed more splendidly than

the others, and the shepherd heard this man greet Hildur as his

wife and bid her welcome, while the rest of the people hailed

her as queen. With the noble looking man were two grown up

children, who went to Hildur and embraced her joyfully as their

mother.

When this crowd had greeted the queen, she was escorted

into the palace with her husband and received there with the

greatest ceremony. The shepherd followed, staying always where

he would draw least attention to himself, yet seeing all that went

on. He saw such riches and splendor that never in his life had he

set eyes on the like before.

Tables were laid and food brought forth, and he wondered

much to see the ceremony with which all was done. After a while

he saw Hildur come into the hall dressed in royal robes and with a

ring of gold on her finger. People were told to take their places,

and Queen Hildur sat down on a throne by the king with the courtiers

on either side, and everyone ate.

When supper was done, the tables were taken away and the

courtiers and ladies-in-waiting joined in a dance at will, while

some amused themselves in other ways that pleased them better.

The king and queen conversed together, and to the shepherd

it seemed that their conversation was both loving and full of sadness.

While they talked, three children came to them, younger

than those mentioned before; and they, too, embraced their mother.

Queen Hildur returned their embraces very warmly. She took

the youngest child and set it on her knees, and was most affectionate

towards it; but the child was fretful and behaved badly, so the

queen put it down and, taking the ring from her finger, gave it to

the child to plav with. The child was quieted and played with the

ring for a while; then dropped it, and the ring rolled away on the

floor. The shepherd was close by, and he was quick to snatch up

the ring as it rolled across the floor, and put it in his pocket so that

no one noticed; though all thought it strange when they looked for

the ring and could find it nowhere.

When the night was well advanced, Queen Hildur began to

make a move to leave; but all in the palace begged her to stay there

longer, and were very sorrowful at the signs of her going.

Sitting in one part of the hall the shepherd had noticed a

woman, old and somewhat disagreeable looking. She was the only

one who neither had welcomed the queen when she came, nor

tried to delay her departure. When the king saw that Hildur had

made up her mind to go, and that she would not stay either for his

prayers or for those of any other, he went to this woman and said.

"Mother, now take back your curse and pay heed to my prayers,

that my queen be exiled no longer, nor I enjoy so little and such

short-lived solace of her company, as now."

The elderly woman answered him angrily, "The whole of my

curse shall stand, and there is no hope of my taking it back."

The king was then silent and walked sadly back to the queen,

put his arms about her neck and kissed her, begging her again

with loving words not to leave him. The queen replied that she had

no choice, because of his mother's curse, and it was likely that

they would see one another no more; for the crimes she had unwillingly

committed, because of the horrible fate that followed her,

were now so many that they could no more be hidden, and she

would have to suffer the penalty for them.

While she made this lamentation, the shepherd, seeing how

matters were, slipped out of the palace and hurried back across

the meadow and up through the chasm again. Then he put away

the stone of invisibility, put on the bridle, and waited for Hildur to

return. After a little while she came, alone and in mournful mood.

She mounted on his back once more and rode homewards. When

they reached the farm she laid him carefully in his bed, took off the

bridle, and then went to her own bed and lay down to sleep.

Although the shepherd was wide awake all the time, he still

pretended to be asleep, so that Hildur should suspect nothing.

When she had gone to bed,though, he relaxed his watchfulness

and slept. He slept late into the day, as might be expected.

The next morning the farmer was the first afoot, for he was

anxious to visit his shepherd; fearing to find him dead, as had

happened before on Christmas Day, bringing grief instead of

Christmas gladness. He went, therefore, to his bed and felt him,

and, finding him alive, was filled with joy and thanked God for his

mercy.

The shepherd awoke, hale and hearty, and got up. When he

was dressed the farmer asked him whether anything unusual had

happened during the night.

"Nothing," replied the shepherd. "Though I had a remarkable

dream."

"What kind of dream?" the farmer asked.

The shepherd began now to tell the story that has been heard

already: how Hildur the housekeeper had come to his bedside and

bridled him,and after that every word and deed he could remember.

When he was done, all were silent, except Hildur.

She said, "You have shown yourself a liar in every word you

have spoken. What proof have you that your story is true?"

The shepherd was not the least abashed at this. He took out

the ring^hat he had picked up from the palace floor in Elfland, and

replied, "Though I do not think it my duty to prove my story true,

yet it happens that I plainly have here a token of my visit to the

elves last night. Queen Hildur, is this not your ring?"

"Yes," replied Hildur, "and you are the luckiest and most

happy of men, for you have released me from the curse laid upon

me by my mother-in-law, by which 1 was compelled to commit so

many crimes at her will."

And now Queen Hildur told her story in the following words.

"I was an elf maiden of common kin, but he who is now king of

Elfland fell in love with me and married me, against his mother's

will. She was so enraged that she swore he would have little solace

of my company though we might see another from time to time.

For she laid upon me this fate: to be a servant in the world of men,

and with it, the horrible doom to be the cause of a man's death on

every Christmas Eve by putting a witch bridle on him and riding

him, as I did this shepherd last night, to see the king; and this was

to go on until my guilt was discovered and I was put to death;

unless before that I met some valiant man who dared follow me

into Elfland and show a token of his visit and tell what he had seen

there. Now that I have confessed how all the former shepherds on

this farm met their deaths because of me, I hope that I shall not be

blamed for what I did unwillingly; for up to now there has been no

man bold enough to explore the way to the underworld and visit

the abode of the elves, except this hero, who has set me free from

my curse and its enchantment; and for his deed he shall be rewarded

ere all is done.

"And now you have my hearty thanks, who have all treated

me well; but I shall stay no longer here, for I am filled with a

longing for my home."

And with these words, Queen Hildur vanished, and she has

never since been seen in the world of men.

As for the shepherd, it is told that he married and set up

house the following spring. The farmer was generous to him when

he went away and did not let him leave empty handed.

He became the most thriving farmer in the district, and peo-

pie always went to him for help and advice. His popularity and

good luck were so great that men had never known the like, and it

was as if every beast on his farm, as the saying goes, was born

with two heads. But he would say that all his luck was due to Hildur

the elf queen.

The feminine power in this story is obviously Hildur. The interesting

thing is that she is not known at all in her true nature when

the story begins. She is, in fact, thought to be an ordinary, if somewhat

mysterious, woman, and her function in the economy of the

tale is that of a servant. Hence she is very much taken for granted

and used by the human world, as we always tend to use and take for

granted the powers at our disposal, not inquiring as to their source.

They are our servants and we are their master.

This assumption that power lies totally in our hands has fateful

consequences. Not only is the true quality of the life that Hildur

represents completely unknown to us, but her essential power is

badly distorted. The true feminine is forced into a state of degradation

that cries out over and over for relief: for that is the meaning of

the repeated deaths of the unlucky shepherds, who represent unsuccessful

attempts to solve the problem. Until it is solved, and the

underground power is restored to its royal place at the center, life

will drain fruitlessly away.

The turning point of the story is actually the point at which the

farmer decides not to hire any more shepherds—decides, that is, to

stop this terrible waste of life. In doing this, he is also admitting that

power is not totally in his hands. There is a problem here over which

he has no control; the one thing he can do is give up carrying on

"business as usual" and pretending that all is well.

By this admission the farmer has allowed healing forces to be

set in motion, for control must be relinquished before any new

possibility can take shape. The very moment that he gives up his

flock—whose care is extraordinarily important to him—to fate or to

God, is the moment when a new, unheard-of person appears on the

scene, a person who seems both aware and completely confident. At

this point the story line passes from the farmer to this stranger, the

new shepherd. Or, in other words, a new kind of consciousness

takes over, which is going to experience the feminine power in a

wholly different way, releasing it from the constriction created by

the previous attitude.

It is obvious, from the experience of the new hero, that the

former shepherds, who met their deaths at the hands of Hildur

every Christmas, were overpowered by her. They never released

themselves from the bondage or her witch-bridle, because they

could not stay awake: they were totally bewitched. It is interesting

that the feminine power was experienced in such apparently contradictory

ways. On the one hand, it was distorted into the servant of

masculine consciousness, as Hildur was housekeeper to the farmer;

but on the other, it was an irresistible and terrible destroyer of men,

as Hildur's secret curse reveals. But this apparent contradiction is

no conradiction at all. It is when the feminine is degraded and not

known for itself that it takes on negative and possessive aspects.

This can be seen very clearly both in relationships and in the connection

with one's own inner feminine being. There is only one kind of

attitude that releases us from this double tyranny, and that is the

attitude of the successful shepherd, who is willing to stay with

Hildur, follow where she leads, and understand who she truly is and

always was.

Not only does the shepherd stay awake and follow willingly; he

becomes, by disappearing in invisibility, a truly faithful observer, a

pure awareness in whose light Hildur and her real background can

appear for the first time. The difference between Hildur as servant

of man and as reigning queen is so vast that it should make us

forever skeptical of premature and foolish judgments about the

nature of this feminine power, no matter in what form it may seem to

manifest itself. We must continally check our own attitudes, for it is

these that determine the whole nature and quality of the feminine

presence that we meet.

Thus the reality of the elf queen emerges along with the source

of her problem, that curse which was laid upon her by her spiteful

mother-in-law. The curse is the generally human curse of discrimination.

The king's mother decided that the elf-maiden was not good

enough for her son: by her attitude she set up that division into high

and low, good and bad, upper world and underworld from which the

true feminine being suffers most of all, since its nature and fulfillment

lie in wholeness, oneness, and peace. It is, in fact, a false

feminine power which has seemed to be in charge: the witch-power

of the mother-in-law represents that very illusion of total control

from which the farmer's world suffered at the beginning of the

story. This is indeed a curse, fatally suppressing and distorting the

real sources of life and happiness, which are always to be found in

relation to a wider truth lying beyond the domain of ego manipulation.

The solution to the whole problem of the distortion of the feminine

is to be found in seeing and understanding truly. This is proved

by the outcome of our fairy tale. Because a human consciousness

has gone beyond its own limits to penetrate into the reality of the

femine power—because, in doing so, it has gone beyond itself— the

order of life has been restored. The shepherd's act of generosity has

placed Hildur back on the throne that is rightfully hers. That is, false

views of the feminine have been discarded for the true one, and in

this process the world is set right: there is harmony within and a

corresponding enrichment without. The happiness of the restored

queen quite naturally results in blessings for the shepherd, but not

because he ever sought them. It is because he sought to know her

that she can respond with her whole being, which is now known.

This knowing is what can make real and sustaining the true power of

the feminine, in whatever form we encounter it in our lives.

DAVID HART, Jungian analyst, member of Round Table Associates and

the Friends Conference on Religion and Psychology, is a University of

Zurich Ph.D. and 1955 diplomate of the Jung Institute. He is widely known

for his lectures and articles on the psychological meaning of fairy tales.

REFERENCE

1 "Hildur The Elf Queen" reprinted from Mead Moondaughter and Other

the author. Reprinted with the permission of the publisher, Chilton Book

Co., Radnor, PA.