My Oma told me stories when I was a little boy. They weren't your typical fairy tales that offered up warm happy endings. The Prince and Princess didn't live happily ever after. The poor son did not inherit a kingdom of wealth and love. There were no "Fairy God Mothers" who offered their powers and service in times of adversity. The fairy tales that were told to me were weird and spooky and cold and deadly.
My Oma would tell me the tales of “Stuwwelpeter” and reminisced of children being chased by lanky ogerish men weilding scissors who sought to cut off their thumbs. Or children who would burn to death because they played with matches when they were told not to. She would deliver these tales with tension and above all else, a great sense of humour.
This is the Struwwelpeter that lives in my head. He will be appearing at my art show in April (available as a limited edition).
1 comments:
Up until your mentioning it, I had never heard of Struwwelpeter! Having read the translations online just now, I'm surprised I had never heard of any of these stories before...
Then again, when you're being raised on stories of La Llorona, El Cadejo, the Nagual, ghosts, the Mayan King Tecun Uman and others, you're not exactly likely to go looking out for more information on your own!
(I'm still creeped out by the tale of La Llorona.)
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