Week 14 Storytelling: The End

Finally! Master was taking me hunting with him again! I always love hunting with Master! I get to chase birds and track so many different animals.  And the smells, oh god the smells! So many new things to smell and follow, and I was so very good at that.  I was Master’s favorite dog and by far his best dog.  When we went hunting together, we always brought furry creatures home with us to eat. 

We set off and walked and walked but I couldn’t pick up any good scents.  Everything was days old and there was this odor overlaying everything anyway.  It made my eyes water and my nose twitch.  It smelled like death and decay, but Master kept pressing on.  We walked all day, but still didn’t find anything. 

As the sun fell and night overtook us, we passed a graveyard.  Nasty things, graveyards.  They’re full of dead people buried in the ground.  The whole forest around them reeks of the decay.  I will never understand why my Master’s people insisted on burying the dead in boxes in the ground.  It makes the smell hang around for decades! 

Anyway, as we passed the graveyard, we noticed a corpse that wasn’t in the ground.  It was standing in the middle of the graveyard in a white shroud.  Master quickened his steps and I stuck with him.  I didn’t want to be left behind with that creepy thing!  Unfortunately, the corpse had seen us and came after us. 

As it leapt at Master, I knew what I had to do.  I lunged at the corpse, taking its rotten and disgusting leg into my mouth to help Master.  I fought as hard as I could, waiting for master to help me and put this corpse back in its grave.  But Master abandoned me! As I was grappling with that repulsive thing, he ran off to protect himself!  Thankfully, I managed to get away, but I was very unhappy with Master.  He needed to pay for leaving me to face death without him. 

I raced after Master, catching him as he broke into the clearing around our home.  I lunged at Master as I had lunged at that corpse, showing him how angry I was.  He tried to fight me off, but I was determined.  Master needed to learn that he should not leave anyone to fight off death alone.  Especially when I attacked death to save Master. 

People from the village heard our furious fight and came running, beating me off Master with sticks and whips.  And still Master did not try to help me.  Even after I had saved him from death and was trying to teach him a lesson, he left me to be beaten by savages.  Well, he was my Master no more and that meant I need not hold back the next chance I got. 

Those savages chained me to a tree without food and without shelter.  Any time my former Master entered the yard, I tried to break that chain.  Slowly but surely, I began to wear away at the links, breaking them open until I could escape.  The next time my former Master entered the yard, I charged at him, taking his throat in my mouth and closing off his air, just as I had done to the animals that I had hunted for him.  I could tell it was working, but suddenly my world went black.  I could not see, I could not feel, I could not smell anything! 

Was this my punishment for betraying my Master even though he had betrayed me first?

Author’s Note:

I took this story from the tale of The Dog and The Corpse in the Russian Folktales unit.  I followed the same story line, although the original story focuses on the moujik, the owner of the dog.  I thought it would be really interesting to see this story from the dog’s point of view.  Dogs seem so eager to please and aid their owners, but when they’re betrayed that eagerness dies quickly.  In this case, the owner left his dog to probably die in his defense while he ran away.  What good dog wouldn’t be disgusted at his master at this point?!

"The Dog and The Corpse" from Russian Fairy Tales by W.R.S. Ralston (1887). Web Source: Mythology and Folklore UN-Textbook. 

Image Information: Black Lab. Source: Wikipedia; Yellow Lab. Source: Flickr

Reading Diary A: Russian Folktales

For this week’s readings, I chose the Russian Folktales unit.  To be honest, I started several other units but kept getting bored or side tracked.  I figured the Russians are famous for being not-quite-right in the head so they must have some pretty interesting folktales that would hopefully keep my attention! And boy was I right! These folktales rival the Grimm’s for interesting twists and gory endings, but they were definitely a lot of fun to read.  I wish I had had the chance to read these before I wrote my storybook because I could have taken some notes from these stories!

There were dark story topics throughout the unit that were very cool.  The Dead Mother had a mother die in childbirth and then come back and nurse the baby in secret.  The Coffin Lid is the story of a woman who died and the child who was supposed to pray over her was forced to face down horrible visions to ensure the witch stayed dead! 

I really did enjoy this unit and would have loved to include it in my storybook, but oh well!  

The Coffin Lid. Source: Wikipedia

Week 13 Storytelling: An Incident in Norman

Some claim that this story takes place in Norman:

A student was walking across campus in the rain when his shoe got stuck in the mud.  He tried to pull his foot out of the mud, but his shoe was stuck fast.  He couldn’t even get his foot out of the shoe! Finally, some of his friends came along and helped pull him out, but there remained a large hole where his foot had been.  This hole opened into a dark room underground.

“Who wants to go on an adventure?”

“I will!” said the student whose foot had been stuck in the mud. They found a rope which they tied around the student and he was soon lowered into the hole.  Let’s call the student Kevin. 

Once Kevin touched down, he looked around and saw a door.  He tried to open the door, but it was locked.  He turned around, trying to see if there was anything else in the darkness, but there was not.  When he turned back, there was a key in the lock.  He turned the lock and opened the door to reveal a young man seated at a table.  The small room greatly resembled a dorm room, albeit a very small and dingy one.

“Who are you?” asked Kevin, but the man was silent.

Three times Kevin asked and on the third, the man said “Turn around, take out your notebook and I will write who I am inside.  When you leave this hole, go to President Boren and make him read who I am, but Boren alone must read this.”

Kevin turned around, took out his notebook, and handed it to the man. The man wrote on the notebook, handed it back, and resumed his seat.

While Kevin was an adventurous and courageous student, he was not made of stone.  He was terrified and wanted to know who this man was and why he would not just tell him.  He looked like a student, but Kevin couldn’t be sure. “How long have you been here?” Kevin asked in a quavering voice.

The man did not respond and Kevin soon grew tired of the dingy place.  He returned to the whole and was pulled up. 

“What was down there? Was there anything good?” they all shouted as he reached the surface.

“There wasn’t anything down there.  I need to go see President Boren to tell him about the hole.  He needs to know,” Kevin replied.

As soon as he arrived, Boren’s secretary escorted Kevin into the office.  When they were alone, Kevin told President Boren what had happened.  Kevin told him of the hole, the door, the man, everything.  Then he took out his notebook and said to him, “Read, Mr. President!”

Mr. Boren read “I AM PLAGION!”

As he declared these words, the poor student became a statue.  

“Damn it, not another one,” Mr. Boren muttered.  “Louise, I have another statue for the campus! We need to find a free space!”

And it is said that that man was Plagion, who was condemned to stay in a dorm room, always reading the essay that he had plagiarized in English, never taking his eyes from the paper.

This is the story of Plagion, who is neither graduated nor student.

Author’s Note:

I chose to rewrite the story An Incident in Rome.  I kept close to the original story, although the original had a little more significance.  The original is the story of Pilate, who believed that Jesus Christ was innocent but acquiesced to the public's will. 

I made the student’s name Kevin because one of the members on my group project was being incredibly annoying as I tried to work on this before class.  He’s a great guy, he was just hyper, so I thought that it would be hilarious if this happened to him… at least the shoe part.

Plagion is the root word for plagiarism.  It was a Greek word, which translates to the Latin word for a kidnapping.  I thought that it was appropriate and was the only thing that I could come up with that would link it to what the student had done wrong.

I also wanted to inject a little humor in the story, which is why I added the little quip from President Boren.  It explains all the statues on campus too!

“An Incident in Rome” from Italian Popular Tales by Thomas Frederick Crane (1885). Source: Mythology and Folklore UN-Textbook. 

Image Source: University of Oklahoma. Source: Wikipedia.  Dorm Room. Source: Wikipedia. President Boren. Source: Wikimedia Commons

Reading Diary B: Italian Popular Tales

The second half of the Italian Popular Tales unit definitely took a turn.  The first few stories were definitely of a religious nature, compared to the other stories that I had been reading.   

An Incident in Rome was a very interesting story.  The story itself was rather simple and basic, but I loved the way in which it was written.  I wish that I had read this earlier in the semester as it would have been a lot of fun to incorporate into my storybook.

Feast Day was another simple story, but I loved the way it ended.  It listed all the things that came unfast and fell into the mouth of the next person, which ended with the reader, whom the narrator called blockheads!

Most of these stories reminded me of Grimm fairytales in one way or another.  The themes were similar and the writing styles were almost identical!

The Vatican. Source: Wikimedia Commons

Reading Diary A: Italian Popular Tales

Italy. Source: Wikimedia Commons

For this week (really two weeks, but who’s counting) readings, I chose the Italian Popular Tales unit.  Since I am travelling to Italy in the spring, I thought that it would be fun to read their fairy tales.  Maybe it will give a bit of insight into their culture, maybe not. 

The unit was very interesting, although slightly repetitive.  Zelindaand the Monster was a lot like Beauty and the Beast.  The woman met a dragon whom she was forced to live with and when she finally agreed to marry him, he became a handsome young man.  The Fair Angiola was very similar to Rapunzel… but with a dog’s face.  The hair and tower were the same, but the witch cursed her with a dog’s face when she ran.  Howthe Devil Married Three Sisters started out like the story of Cupid and Psyche.  He told the women to not do something, which of course he did. 

I really enjoyed reading this unit.  It reminded me a lot of the Grimm fairy tales that I have been reading all semester, so of course I loved them!

Week 12 Storytelling: I am Excalibur

There I was, perfectly happy on the hip of one of the most valiant knights in all the land.    I was a beautiful sword.  In my hilt was a perfect blood red ruby surrounded by intricate, well-polished scroll work.  My scabbard was also red and heavily encrusted with gold and jewels.  My knight and I had been in countless wars, slaying the evils that plagued our lands.  My knight was aging, but he was still a strong man who thought that he could take on the world with me at his side, and rightly so. 

Then poof!  My knight and scabbard were gone and I was encased in freaking rock!  The rough stone grated against my smooth blade, scratching up the steel.  How the hell did I go from being at my knight’s side to being in a freaking rock?!  I couldn’t see where I was, I couldn’t hear any voices, nothing! 

I waited there forever sitting in a rock, chaffing against the sides, seeing nothing, hearing nothing. I’m pretty sure I went insane.  Then, all of a sudden, I felt a hand on my hilt trying to tug me out of the stone!  Finally, I was going to be free of this stupid rock!  But as much as that hand, and many others, pulled, I never came free.  So yet again, I was trapped. 

What I think was a few days later, the hands returned, although I was sure that I was stuck there forever.  These hands seemed smaller and smoother than the others, so they must belong to a young boy.  Surprisingly, I was pulled free!  The light was blinding, the sounds deafening!  I was free of that blasted stone!  The boy took off with me and in the distance I could see a tournament being prepared. 

The boy delivered me to a knight and what was said next was lost on me.  The knight took me to another and said “Sir, this is the sword of the stone, therefore I am the rightful King." The other knight appeared doubtful and took us to another man. 

Now this is where I began to drift off.  I was so excited and happy to be free of the stone that I did not care what these men were prattling on about.  Maybe I could find my knight now! I could go back to fighting wars and slaying evils.  I was free after all! 

However, the men began to walk back to where the boy had pulled me from the stone.  I could not go back into that darkness! I would lose my sanity!  Try as I might, however, I was returned to the stone and four more times, with long periods in between, I was pulled from the stone. 

On the fourth time that I was drawn from the stone, I saw a great crowd of common people around the boy, the stone and me.  The second that I was free from the stone, the crowd began to scream and cheer, chanting the young man’s name.  Everyone around us fell to their knees with tears on their faces: young and old, rich and poor. 

The young man was declared king, and with me at his side!  While I may not find my knight again, I was now at the hip of a man who was chosen by the people, a man with the natural ability to lead and rule. 

The young man’s name was Arthur and he was now king of Camelot.  I protected him for many years, slaying those that threatened his life and the life of the kingdom.  Although my former knight had never named me, this boy called me Excalibur and we ruled Camelot with a firm hand and a loving heart. 

That is, until we were separated and I never saw the young man again.  I heard that he was given another sword by a lady of the lake, one that, while not as good as myself, still helped him rule his kingdom. 

Author’s Note:

For this week’s story, I chose to rewrite the King Arthur story, The Drawing of the Sword.  I kept the same story line, but rewrote it from the viewpoint of Excalibur.  I thought it would be an interesting viewpoint since the sword is so central to the tale of King Arthur.  I wanted to show how it would feel to be encased in stone, waiting for the One True King to come along and draw you from the stone.  And once you’re finally free of the stone, you are placed back into it again and again because the knights would not accept your bearer as the one true king. 

Bibliography: "The Drawing of the Sword" from King Arthur: Tales of the Round Table by Andrew Lang (1902).  Web Source: Mythology and Folklore UN-Textbook

Image Source: Excalibur in the Stone. Source: Flickr

Reading Diary B: King Arthur

As I continued to read the King Arthur unit, I realized something that was very entertaining.  The Knights of the Round Table whine about everything!  When things do not go their way, they bemoan their situation and whine to whoever they meet next about their misfortunes.  You would think that such brave, strong knights would have better character than that! They kind of remind me of the way that I have been writing the Grimm Brothers.  They appear to be strong and brave men, but once you break the surface, they’re rather pretentious

Not to mention, they almost all find their way with the help of a woman.  A woman appears who shows them the way that they must follow after they fall into misfortune. 

The more I read of the unit, the more connections I made to other television shows and books that I have read.  The show Merlin, which is what I titled my blog after, is somewhat similar to the tales.  A series of books by Angela Knight has all the right names, but the Knights and their ladies are vampires and witches.  Regardless, all of the renditions of these stories are amazing and I love that I finally know what is, more or less, the original story.  

Merlin Television Show. Source: Ultra Publications