Danish Folktales, Legends, and Other Stories

Timothy R. Tangherlini, Timothy R. Tangherlini, Timothy R. Tangherlini

• Publisher: University of Washington Press
• Year: 2013
• ISBN:
  9780295805566
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: European Literary Collections
• Index: Literature

Danish Folktales, Legends, and Other Stories is a collection of translated and annotated Nordic folklore that presents full repertoires of five storytellers along with extensive archival material. The printed book presents some of the most compelling stories of these five important storytellers along with historical and biographical introductions. Of a length suitable for course use, it provides a substantive and enjoyable encounter with Danish folklore. The Danish Folklore Nexus on the accompanying DVD includes the storytellers' full repertoires plus 500 additional stories in both Danish and English along with essays on the changing political, social, and economic landscapes of nineteenth-century Denmark, the history of folklore scholarship, critical approaches to folklore, and comprehensive biographies of the storytellers. It also provides links between related stories and interactive maps that allow readers to see where the stories are set and where they were collected, and a mechanism to search for themes and topics across all the stories. The basis of the work is the collection of Evald Tang Kristensen (1843-1929). As a young schoolteacher Kristensen set out across Denmark to collect the folktales, ballads, legends, and stories that he saw as the vestiges of a disappearing folk culture. Over the course of five decades he collected thousands of stories and kept detailed biographical notes about the storytellers he met. Watch the trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ecojItKZ8SI&list=UUge4MONgLFncQ1w1C_BnHcw&index=2&feature=plcp

1

“Bitte Jens” Kristensen

COBBLED TOGETHER

JENS KRISTENSEN WAS BORN ON JUNE 3, 1825, THE SON OF Christen Pedersen Tved and Maren Jensdatter from Ersted. He was the only boy in a family of five children. His oldest sister, Ane Margrethe, was five years older than he; Kirsten, the second daughter, was three years older; and his two younger sisters, Anne and Karen, were two and five years younger than he, respectively. Jens's father pressed his only son into service early, both helping to make clogs—an endeavor that Jens continued throughout his life—and later, when he was older, helping with the harvest. In a short biographical sketch of Jens that Tang Kristensen cobbled together from various sources and field notes, he wrote:

Jens Kristensen (in daily speech, called Bitte-Jens) was born the third of June 1825 in Ersted town. His mother was from Aarestrup but his father was from Tveden. He has always lived here in the area, and he was only eight or nine years old when he had to start helping his father drill out clogs. His father was a clog maker, and he has always supported himself doing that. When he got strong enough to handle it, he worked during harvest time with the harvest work. He took part in the war of 1848 and lived for many years in a house in Ersted, that is where I visited him, and five or six years ago he moved to the northwest of Aarestrup to Hov-bakshusene (Hovbaks houses). His father owned but a small house with one cow and five or six sheep. He learned his ballads from his mother, but she sang them all to one melody. In contrast, the father was a good singer and he learned the melodies from him. He also knew some ballads. Jens has sung many a ballad with Johan Pingel, who was first a road worker and later a railroad guard over in Ellidshøj. Jens calls everything that he tells a bunch of nonsense and not worth listening to, but no shame, he does not mean anything with it. His wife does not like all this old rubbish, and he does not like to open up in her presence. Luckily, she goes off to the neighbors with regularity. He is well attuned to the old mindset and the way the old people lived and he tells about it eagerly. (GKV, 82; JAT VI, 896)

Although Jens was not terribly wealthy, he was not terribly poor either. He lived an interesting life that spanned one of the greatest periods of change in recent Danish history. Through it all, he told stories.

Jens's repertoire is marked not only by extraordinary scope but also by considerable generic diversity. Indeed, many of his stories and ballads play with the very conventions of genre itself. Accordingly, a description by genre of the stories and songs that Bitte Jens told and sang is bound to be somewhat loose. He was a masterful storyteller and singer, and his repertoire was far ranging. Tang Kristensen's collecting biases likely influenced Bitte Jens in what he chose to perform, particularly during their first session together, but as their relationship developed, Bitte Jens seems to have taken control of the sessions, and Tang Kristensen cleverly allowed him free rein.

Bitte Jens's repertoire consists of fifty-five legends, twenty descriptions, two jokes, two sayings, seven folktales, and sixteen ballads. Perhaps the most striking single feature in his repertoire is his sense of humor. Although many of his legends detail frightening encounters with the supernatural—most often with witches, robbers, and mound dwellers—they are interspersed with humorous stories about local farmers and ministers. As is the case in many smallholders' stories, the tension between classes, particularly between peasants and the nobility but also between smallholders and farm owners, is apparent in many of Jens's stories. Much of his humor borders on the obscene, and Tang Kristensen went to extraordinary lengths in some cases to eliminate the obscenity from his stories (Tangherlini 2008c). Bitte Jens's sense of humor surfaces not only in his jocular tales but also in his folktales, legends, and, importantly, his ballads.

Stories and Songs

0.01 [No field diary recording] DS II D, 5

There was once a fisherman on the West Sea who found a glove on the beach. He brought it home to his wife and had her knit one just like it, then he went and put both gloves on the beach again and then he went out to fish. Then something shouted:

They're shouting in the north

and they're whistling and blowing

go to land, you man

who knitted the glove

Then the fisherman hurried to land. Immediately a storm blew up that was so bad that many fishermen drowned, but the man was saved because he'd given the merman the glove.

1.05 [3237b–3238a] DSkv, 19Ed

1. Las, he whispered into his dear's ear,

—Hey hey, dawn is breaking again

shouldn't they have themselves a birth celebration

“Well, do we have meat?” said he, Las

—“Well, we'll get some,” said he, Mas

As they walked together carefree through the grove

2. Las wanted to go through the forest,

to catch an animal was his goal.

“I think I'll go with you,” said Mas

“Sure, you certainly can,” said Las

3. Las put his rifle on his back

and then they went into the forest in good spirits.

“Here I come,” said Las.

—“Me too,” said Mas.

4. Now when they got into that forest,

they saw a bear lying there asleep.

“Should I shoot him?” said Las.

—“Yes, you can.” said Mas.

5. Las put his rifle on his knee,

and then he shot that bear that lay under that tree.

“There he lies,” said Las.

—“Yes, I'd say so,” said Mas.

6. They went over to the bear to flay,

but his whittling knife couldn't bite into it.

“Give me your whetstone,” said Las.

—“Here you go,” said Mas.

7. Now when they'd gotten the skin off,

there were fifteen holes in it.

“I think we should sell it,” said Las.

—“That would be fine,” said Mas.

8. Las threw the skin on his back,

and off they headed to the market town.

“Do you think we can sell it,” said Las.

—“Yes, I'm sure we can,” said Mas.

9. But as they went along the road,

they met four or five thugs.

“They probably want it.” said Las,

—“Yes, I think so,” said Mas.

10. Well, two in front and three behind,

then they tore the skin from Las's back.

“Now they're taking it,” said Las.

—“Yes, they took it,” said Mas.

11. Las wanted to climb over that fence

and his balls wound up on a post

“Oh my, there they hang,” said Las.

—“Yes, I think so,” said Mas.

12. Then when they got to the market town street,

they met up with a baker woman.

“Should I talk to her,” said Las.

—“Yes, I think that's best,” said Mas.

13. Las whispered in the old woman's ear,

“Can you fix me a pair of balls?”

“What did she say?” said Mas.

—“She said yes,” said Las.

14. And she poked out and she poked in,

and it hurt in Las's skin

“That hurts,” said he, Las.

—“I can imagine,” said Mas.

15. For fifteen nights and fourteen days,

Las's balls lay in a bread pan

“How are things?” said Mas

—“Oh, not too bad,” said Las.

16. Las looked in through the window,

—Hey hey, dawn is breaking again

all his women hopped in the alcoves

“I think they're crazy,” said Las.

—“They probably are,” said Mas.

As they walked together carefree through the grove

1.11 [3240a–3241a] Unpublished

Else Hohus in Rævild had gone down to help a mound dweller man's wife deliver her baby. The mound dweller came one evening and greeted her from his wife and asked her if she'd follow him to help out with those affairs. They used this old Else H. a lot for that, because back then there weren't any trained midwives. Yes, it would be a shame to deny her that, but she wanted to know where the mound dweller's wife was from. She was from Ørnbjærg, he said, but some new people had come there, and she didn't know them, he said. Was he from Ørnbjærg? Yes, he was. But how are we going to find our way out there, it was so dark? Yes, they could certainly do that, he said. He'd told them that they could put candles in the windows, and that was good enough. They'd go toward them. Just as they were walking along, they fell down into the earth, and they came down to where the mound dweller's wife was lying. Else helped the woman deliver and that went well, but then the man went out. Then she says to the woman: Sure, I've come down here, but how am I going to get back? Well, it would work out; the mound dweller's wife was also a changeling. Else shouldn't worry about it, she said. He'll accompany you home, but you should turn one of your mittens around, I can't remember if it was the right or the left, but either one was equally strong, and then he'll pay you, you should pick up your apron and hold what he'll give you in that, and then he'll dance with you three times around a hawthorn bush, she said, and you can grab onto it with your hand when you're done dancing; then you'll be holding onto your door knocker, she said. When he says goodbye, turn the glove around, otherwise he'll take you back down. Well, then he went off with her when they were done and then he danced with her around the hawthorn bush and gave her lots of big flint stones in her apron, and she held it up and then she took hold of the knocker of her door. When he'd said goodnight to her he couldn't take her back with him. Then she went inside and tossed the flint stones down in front of the wood stove and then she went to bed. When she woke up in the morning the flint stones had turned into the most beautiful silver coins.

1.15 [3241b–3242a] DS VI, 139

There was a man who lived in Teglgården, a little manor farm between Buderup and Skjørping, and he'd given himself over to the devil's power. But the devil had agreed to give him a sign before he came and took him, so that he could be somewhat prepared for the trip. Then one Sunday morning, his hired girl was to go and get his Sunday clothes for him, he wanted to go to church, and when she brings him a pair of white stockings first, they looked red to his eyes. He says to her that she should get him another pair, he didn't want ones like that. She got him another pair, but they were red too, and all the ones she brought were red. Then he gets quite upset and says that he doesn't want to go to church today and she should put them away. After that, he chased everyone off to church, they all had to go except for the girl who'd given him the stockings, she was to stay home. Now she was to get him a big bowl of sour milk, he said to her, and he put a bunch of silver coins in it. “Now I want you to give me a spoon,” he said, and he wanted to spoon the coins into himself, but he couldn't swallow them. So he pushed them over to the girl, she could have them. Immediately, the finest carriage drove into the courtyard and stopped in front of the main door. She thought that it was important guests, and the man who was sitting in the wagon also went in to see the lord, but she didn't see what he did to him, but she did hear that the lord complained quite a bit and he wasn't allowed to leave out through the door with the visitor, but instead had to leave through a corner window, and then off the lord went with him, and they went fast because they drove right over an oak by Hvældam.

When they got to the stream that runs between Skjørping and Teglgården, there were some scrub oak trees and other oaks down by the stream at that time, and they cleaved that oak tree so that it almost broke in two, and it hung down and grew like that for many years, and because the devil had driven over it there was no one who dared take it for firewood. Now no one saw Per Yde any more—you see that's what the manor lord at Teglgården was called—but they traveled north to hell with each other, and after that people heard that when the devil traveled over the sea with him, a ship came sailing right by at the same moment and the people called out asking who he was. Well, it was the devil. And what freight did he have? Well, he had Andreas the bishop and Andreas Fal and Peder Yde. Where were they from? ask the shipspeople. Well, one was the bishop of Bremen, and the other was a dean—I can't remember now where he was from, but it was a place way down south—and the third was the man from Teglgarden. You see, that was the last people heard of Peder Yde, but when the girl came into the room where the devil had taken him, she saw his brains hanging on the walls, so he must have grabbed him pretty hard. There was a farmhand who worked here in the town who said that there was always a ruckus in the attic at Teglgården at night.

1.19 [3242b–3244a] JAH V, 505

There were two sisters who lived here in Oplev, one was rich and the other was poor. They lived in Jens Markussen's and Anders Jensen's farms, the two southern farms. The rich one was the oldest and the poor one was a such a pretty young woman. When the poor sister plowed, they had nobody to drive the plow other than a little girl, since at that time they used the old wheel plows with four in front. When they were going to harrow, the wife had to go herself with the nags, since they didn't have a girl there except when they plowed. When they were utterly exhausted, she would have to go home and feed the cattle. This Jewish wandering merchant came one day to the poor sister when she'd come back from the fields and he showed her his wares and wanted to do business with her. She said that she wasn't going to buy anything since she didn't have any money. But he said that she should look around in the old chest with the iron bands that stood in there, she would probably find some money there. No, she knew that there wasn't any. Well, he showed her one nice piece of clothing after another, as traveling merchants are wont to do. Yes, she really wanted them, but that didn't really help matters. Then he gets her to try something on: here's a piece of clothing that he'd give to her, if he could lie with her for a little while. These Jewish wandering merchants liked to do that too. She didn't dare do that, because when her husband saw that she had the clothing, then he'd want to know where she'd gotten it from, since he knew that she didn't have any money. Then he takes his wallet up with all of these silver coins in it and tosses a shilling to her, she could have it and her husband wouldn't need to know.

When the woman saw that he had so many silver coins she looked at the sun and said, “No, it's noon now and my husband will come home. But I have another idea. Tonight he is going to the mill to get grain for the nags, then you should come and ask for shelter, and it will probably work out.” He liked this suggestion. She talks to her husband about this and tells him that it would be good to get hold of the money. “Now you should stand out in the entry and greet him, and then you should get ready like you were going to the mill.” Well, then the wandering merchant came and wanted shelter there. No, their apartment wasn't large enough to give people shelter there. Sure, they had enough room, he knew the place well. But they didn't have anything to put on the bed; no, he'd better go to the inn—there was an inn in Gravlev at that time. No, he couldn't do that, because he had to head west the next morning. Well, then the husband finally let the wife take care of it. She was also hard to convince, but he was finally given permission. Then the husband puts on his long jacket, puts a sack under his arm and grabs a staff and asks his wife to feed the nags one more time, and then she was going to make some evening snacks for the wandering merchant. But it took a while and they weren't done before the husband came home. The wandering merchant still had just gotten into bed, and now the husband grabs hold of the poor merchant. The wife wailed that he shouldn't beat him like that. Well, he'd been standing outside and heard what he'd talked about to his wife and now he was going to kill them both. She runs at him to fight with him and the merchant grabs his clothes and ran out the door, which the man had opened. The husband ran after him and chases him down to the little woods in Gravlev. So he escaped with his life, but he'd lost his money and his box of wares too, and he didn't dare go back to get it.

1.23 [3246b–3247a] DS I, 553

Old Villads over here in Ersted—he lived in the westernmost and southernmost farm—he was so great a witchmaster that he could talk to these here mound dwellers and elves whenever he wanted. There was a hidden man (mound man) who lived in a hill out on his field, called Kringelbjærg, south of the road to Årestrup, there's a gravel pit there now, and they called him the Kringelbjærg man. You see, old Villads said he could talk to him whenever he wanted to. So one night, he and Kolde-Per and Søren Østergaard—it was in fact he who later wound up living in Tveden—they sat drinking in the most northwesterly farm here in the town and after they had had several drams, Villads begins boasting that he can talk to this here mound dweller, and if they'd follow him up to Kringelbjærg, then he'd call him so they could see him and get to talk to him. Sure, they'd gladly go along, they said, maybe so that he wouldn't think that this might scare them. So then they leave with each other and then Villads tells them what to do. “Now we're to walk three times around the mound, and when I bang three times down on the mound with my staff, then he'll come, goddammit.” Well, they walk around the mound and then Villads bangs his staff down on the ground, and calls out to him, “Hey mound dweller, come out here, there are two who want to talk to you.”—“There are three,” said Kolde-Per. But he wouldn't come. He hit a second time, and no one came. “Well, when I hit this third time, he...