Category Archives: Fairy Tales

Tale: Rotkäppchen

Rotkäppchen - Little Red Riding Hood, Der Märchenbrunnen im Volkspark Friedrichshain, Berlin. Photo by Scarlett Messenger
Rotkäppchen – Little Red Riding Hood, Der Märchenbrunnen im Volkspark Friedrichshain, Berlin. Photo by Scarlett Messenger
Museumsdorf Düppel, Berlin. Photo by Scarlett Messenger
“Wolf”, Museumsdorf Düppel, Berlin. Photo by Scarlett Messenger

Once upon a time there was a dear little girl who was loved by every one who looked at her, but most of all by her
grandmother, and there was nothing that she would not have given to the child. Once she gave her a little cap of red velvet, which suited her so well that she would never wear anything else. So she was always called little red-cap.

One day her mother said to her, “Come, little red-cap, here is a piece of cake and a bottle of wine. Take them to your grandmother, she is ill and weak, and they will do her good. Set out before it gets hot, and when you are going, walk nicely and quietly and do not run off the path, or you may fall and break the bottle, and then your grandmother will get nothing. And when you go into her room, don’t forget to say, good-morning, and don’t peep into every corner before you do it.”

“I will take great care”, said little red-cap to her mother, and gave her hand on it.

The grandmother lived out in the wood, half a league from the village, and just as little red-cap entered the wood, a wolf met her. Red-cap did not know what a wicked creature he was, and was not at all afraid of him.

“Good-day, little red-cap,” said he.

“Thank you kindly, wolf.”

“Whither away so early, little red-cap?”

“To my grandmother’s.”

“What have you got in your apron?”

“Cake and wine. Yesterday was baking-day, so poor sick grandmother is to have something good, to make her stronger.”

“Where does your grandmother live, little red-cap?”

“A good quarter of a league farther on in the wood. Her house stands under the three large oak-trees, the nut-trees are just below. You surely must know it,” replied little red-cap.

The wolf thought to himself, what a tender young creature. What a nice plump mouthful, she will be better to eat than the old woman. I must act craftily, so as to catch both. So he walked for a short time by the side of little red-cap, and then he said, “see little red-cap, how pretty the flowers are about here. Why do you not look round. I believe, too, that you do not hear how sweetly the little birds are singing. You walk gravely along as if you were going to school, while everything else out here in the wood is merry.”

Little red-cap raised her eyes, and when she saw the sunbeams dancing here and there through the trees, and pretty flowers growing everywhere, she thought, suppose I take grandmother a fresh nosegay. That would please her too. It is so early in the day that I shall still get there in good time. And so she ran from the path into the wood to look for flowers. And whenever she had picked one, she fancied that she saw a still prettier one farther on, and ran after it, and so got deeper and deeper into the wood.

Meanwhile the wolf ran straight to the grandmother’s house and knocked at the door.

“Who is there?”

“Little red-cap,” replied the wolf. “She is bringing cake and wine. Open the door.”

“Lift the latch,” called out the grandmother, “I am too weak, and cannot get up.”

The wolf lifted the latch, the door sprang open, and without saying a word he went straight to the grandmother’s bed, and devoured her. Then he put on her clothes, dressed himself in her cap, laid himself in bed and drew the curtains.

Little red-cap, however, had been running about picking flowers, and when she had gathered so many that she could carry no more, she remembered her grandmother, and set out on the way to her.

She was surprised to find the cottage-door standing open, and when she went into the room, she had such a strange feeling that she said to herself, oh dear, how uneasy I feel to-day, and at other times I like being with grandmother so much. She called out, “good morning,” but received no answer. So she went to the bed and drew back the curtains. There lay her grandmother with her cap pulled far over her face, and looking very strange.

“Oh, grandmother,” she said, “what big ears you have.”

“The better to hear you with, my child,” was the reply.

“But, grandmother, what big eyes you have,” she said.

“The better to see you with,” my dear.

“But, grandmother, what large hands you have.”

“The better to hug you with.”

“Oh, but, grandmother, what a terrible big mouth you have.”

“The better to eat you with.”

And scarcely had the wolf said this, than with one bound he was out of bed and swallowed up red-cap.

When the wolf had appeased his appetite, he lay down again in the bed, fell asleep and began to snore very loud. The huntsman was just passing the house, and thought to himself, how the old woman is snoring. I must just see if she wants anything.

So he went into the room, and when he came to the bed, he saw that the wolf was lying in it. Do I find you here, you old sinner, said he. I have long sought you. Then just as he was going to fire at him, it occurred to him that the wolf might have devoured the grandmother, and that she might still be saved, so he did not fire, but took a pair of scissors, and began to cut open the stomach of the sleeping wolf. When he had made two snips, he saw the little red-cap shining, and then he made two snips more, and the little girl sprang out, crying, ah, how frightened I have been. How dark it was inside the wolf. And after that the aged grandmother came out alive also, but scarcely able to breathe. Red-cap, however, quickly fetched great stones with which they filled the wolf’s belly, and when he awoke, he wanted to run away, but the stones were so heavy that he collapsed at once, and fell dead.

Then all three were delighted. The huntsman drew off the wolf’s skin and went home with it. The grandmother ate the cake and drank the wine which red-cap had brought, and revived, but red-cap thought to herself, as long as I live, I will never by myself leave the path, to run into the wood, when my mother has forbidden me to do so.

It is also related that once when red-cap was again taking cakes to the old grandmother, another wolf spoke to her, and tried to entice her from the path. Red-cap, however, was on her guard, and went straight forward on her way, and told her grandmother that she had met the wolf, and that he had said good-morning to her, but with such a wicked look in his eyes, that if they had not been on the public road she was certain he would have eaten her up. Well, said the grandmother, we will shut the door, that he may not come in. Soon afterwards the wolf knocked, and cried, open the door, grandmother, I am little red-cap, and am bringing you some cakes. But they did not speak, or open the door, so the grey-beard stole twice or thrice round the house, and at last jumped on the roof, intending to wait until red-cap went home in the evening, and then to steal after her and devour her in the darkness. But the grandmother saw what was in his thoughts. In front of the house was a great stone trough, so she said to the child, take the pail, red-cap. I made some sausages yesterday, so carry the water in which I boiled them to the trough. Red-cap carried until the great trough was quite full. Then the smell of the sausages reached the wolf, and he sniffed and peeped down, and at last stretched out his neck so far that he could no longer keep his footing and began to slip, and slipped down from the roof straight into the great trough, and was drowned. But red-cap went joyously home, and no one ever did anything to harm her again.

(text from Carnegie Mellon University)

Personal Journal: Ladybug, Ladybug

Ladybug on the Holocaust Memorial, Berlin. Photo by Scarlett Messenger
Ladybug on the Holocaust Memorial, Berlin. Photo by Scarlett Messenger

As I mentioned, we went to the Holocaust Memorial I appreciate that they call it a memorial to the murdered Jewish people of Europe. The choice of the word murdered feels deliberate. These weren’t just the victims of war, they were murdered. Six million people. Men, women, children. The memorial is very disorienting. It’s hundreds of large stone slabs the shape of coffins, all different heights and angels. You walk between them and they start out small and grow until they tower over you. You can’t see anyone . I realized at one point I had lost Elliott, and while I could get back to where we started I didn’t know how to find him. Without a phone I could realistically lose him. Then the light bulb went on. That was the intended effect. While in the memorial you feel lost, isolated, surrounded by death. It’s actually very subtle, and that makes it more chilling. What really killed me was when I came upon a ladybug on one of the stones. She was the lone speck of color, a bright drop of red in a sea of gray. I instantly recalled the nursery rhyme“ Ladybug ladybug, fly away home. Your house is on fire, your children are alone…

I had to leave after that.

Ladybug on the Holocaust Memorial Drawing. Photo by Scarlett Messenger
Ladybug on the Holocaust Memorial Drawing. Photo by Scarlett Messenger

I am beginning to enjoy waking up with the city. The S-Bahn makes this huge rumbling sound as it goes through Rosenthaler Platz. Because we are so far north (Berlin is at about the same latitude as Calgary) the sun starts to rise around 4am, but it takes a long time before it is actually light. I woke up famished this morning because I had neglected to eat dinner after downing a massive dönar kebap for lunch, so I cobbled together a breakfast of fried potatoes and pork out of what we had in the mini fridge. I am learning that with butter, garlic, and soy sauce you can make anything taste good.

I tried my hand at drawing some of the things I saw yesterday at the Tiergarten. I am actually pleased with how they turned out. They aren’t great works of art by any stretch, but I managed to express myself decently. I took some video, made some notes, etc. I won’t be able to ID most things until I get my phone up and working, but I did find a hazelnut tree, birch trees, and I think I heard some hoopoes. There are these really pretty blue flowers everywhere, I need to find out what those are. Germans seem to love the outdoors. The parks are always full every time we come across them, and there are parks EVERYWHERE. Seriously, every few blocks there is at least a small park. I find it interesting that the parks near our house seem to be pretty clean, but the ones near the tourist centers are full of garbage. Although most of Berlin shows the constant wear and tear of being Europe’s non-stop Mardi Gras (to Ibiza’s 24/7 Spring Break) Germans actually seem to care about their city. The pervasiveness of graffiti isn’t the sign of neglect that we consider it in the States. We see graffiti, we think vandalism, but Germans seem to view it as expression. This isn’t really a clean city, it’s filled with broken bottles, vomit, condoms, and strangely enough confetti. However I have yet to see the human excrement that was a pervasive part of the Los Angeles landscape. I will also say that in spite of the fact that people can legally walk down the street drinking beer, I have seen very little public drunkenness.

This has been kind of a dreadful day. We gave up on Lycamobile and went down the street to get our sim cards at an O2 store. Now we have some data, but the actual phones don’t work and the connection is slow as fuck. I am convinced the washing machine is actually just broken, which leaves us in a world of shit. Laundromats aren’t a thing here, and none of our sinks is big enough to wash our clothes in. After banging on the thing for an hour I just sank to the floor and sobbed in the hall in despair. Nothing has worked right since we got here, and no matter how positive I have tried to be it’s just getting shittier. I’ve tried laughing at our misfortune, but the fact of the matter is I am horribly depressed and really really just want to go home. We are supposed to get internet tomorrow, but I guarantee something will go wrong and we will end up stuck without internet for an extended period of time, effectively ruining my chance to do my schoolwork. At the end of this trip I will have spent our life savings and will have nothing to show for it but debt and bad memories. Perhaps this all sounds petty, but I spent my husband’s and my entire life savings on this, I have work to do, and people are counting on me. Traveling when you have Multiple Sclerosis is hard and takes a lot of extra work and consideration. I already had my time pretty tightly budgeted, now I am behind. There is a lot of fear and stress to traveling while disabled, and I really don’t need anything adding to it.

Poem: Die zwei Wurzeln by Morgenstern

Volkspark am Weinbergsweg, Berlin. Photo by Scarlett Messenger
Volkspark am Weinbergsweg, Berlin. Photo by Scarlett Messenger

Die zwei Wurzeln

Zwei Tannenwurzeln groß und alt
unterhalten sich im Wald.

Was droben in den Wipfeln rauscht,
das wird hier unten ausgetauscht.

Ein altes Eichhorn sitzt dabei
und strickt wohl Strümpfe für die zwei.

Die eine sagt: knig. Die andre sagt: knag.
Das ist genug für einen Tag.

Christian Morgenstern
(1871 – 1914), German writer, playwright, journalist and translator Continue reading Poem: Die zwei Wurzeln by Morgenstern

Article: Fairy Tales Help Robots Learn Not to Commit Murder

Fairy Tales Help Robots Learn Not to Commit Murder

Given a choice, would Three Little Robots being chased by a big bad wolf A) build successively more wolf-resistant houses or B) kill the wolf with their nail gun? If you chose B), you’re probably a robot who hasn’t yet met Quixote, a learning system that teaches robots how not to kill by using fairy tales.