The Deep Dark WoodsThe most gruesome Brothers Grimm tale that involves a young boy and his stepmother.
School of Humans.
This episode discusses sensitive topics. Please listen with care. My name is Miranda Hawkins. Welcome to the Deep Dark Woods. Today's episode is at U seven twenty or the Juniper Tree. Like the Robber Bridegroom. You might not have heard this tale before. It hasn't been adapted by big names like Walt Disney, but a lot of folklorests agree it's the most gruesome brothers Grim story. We'll be telling the tale in its entirety, so sit back and enjoy.
Long ago, at least two thousand years there was a rich man who had a beautiful and pious wife, and they loved each other dearly. However, they had no children, though they wished very much to have some, and the woman prayed for them day and night, but they didn't get any, and they didn't get any. In front of their house there was a courtyard where there stood a juniper tree. One day in winter, the woman was standing beneath it, peeling herself an apple. And while she was thus peeling the apple, she cut her finger and the blood fell into the snow. Oh, the woman said. She sighed heavily, looked at the blood before her, and was most unhappy, if only I had a child as red as blood and as white as snow. And as she said that, she became quite contented and felt sure that it was going to happen. Then she went into the house, and a month went by and the snow was gone. Then two months and everything was green. And three months and all the flowers came out of the earth. And four months and all the trees in the woods grew thicker, and the green branches were all in twined in one another, and the birds sang until the woods resounded, and the blossoms fell from the trees. Then the fifth month passed, and she stood beneath the juniper tree, which smelled so sweet that her heart jumped for joy. And she fell on her knees and was beside herself. And when the sixth month was over, the fruit was thick and large, and then she was quite still. And after the seventh month she picked up the juniper berries and ate them greedily. Then she grew sick and sorrowful. Then the eighth month passed, and she called her husband to her and cried and said, if I die, then bury me beneath the juniper tree. Then she was quite comforted and happy until the next month was over. And then she had a child as white as snow and as red as blood. And when she saw it, she was so happy that she died. Her husband buried her beneath the juniper tree and began to cry bitterly. After some time he was at more ease, and although he still cried, he could bear it. And some time later he took another wife. He had a daughter by the second wife, but the first wife's child was a little son, and he was as red as blood and as white as snow. When the woman looked at her daughter, she loved her very much. But then she looked at the little boy, and it pierced her heart, for she thought that he would always stand in her way. That she was always thinking of how she could get the entire inheritance for her daughter, and the evil one filled her mind with this, until she grew very angry with the little boy, and she pushed him from one corner to the other, and slapped him here and cuffed him there, until the poor child was always afraid, for when he came home from school there was nowhere he could find any peace. One day, the woman had gone upstairs to her room when her little daughter came up too and said, Mother, give me an apple. Yes, my child, said the woman, and gave her a beautiful apple out of the chest. The chest had a large, heavy lid with a sharp iron lock. Mother said, the little daughter is brother not to have one too. This made the woman angry, but she said, yes, when he comes home from school. When from the window she saw him coming, it was as though the evil one came over her, and she grabbed the apple and took it away from her daughter, saying, you shall not have one before your brother. She threw the apple into the chest and shut it. Then the little boy came in the door, and the evil one made her say to him kindly, my son, do you want an apple? And she looked at him fiercely. Mother said the little boy, how angry you look. Yes, give me an apple. Then it seemed to her as if she had to persuade him. Come with me, she said, opening the lid of the chest, take out an apple for yourself. And while the little boy was leaning over, the evil One prompted her and crash. She slammed down the lid and his head flew off, falling among the red apples. Then fear overcame her, and she thought, maybe I can get out of this. So she went upstairs to her room to her chest of drawers and took a white scarf out of the top drawer and set the head on the neck, again, tying the scarf around it so that nothing could be seen. Then she set him on a chair in front of the door and put the apple in his hand. After this, Marlene came into the kitchen to her mother, who was standing by the fire with a pot of hot water before her, which she was stirring around and around. Mother said, Marlene, brother is sitting at the door, and he looks totally white and has an apple in his hand. I asked him to give me the apple, but he did not answer me, and I was very frightened. Go back to him, said the mother. And if you will not answer, you then box his ears. So Arlene went to him and said, brother, give me the apple, but he was silent, so she gave him one on the ear and his head fell off. Marlene was terrified and began crying and screaming and ran to her mother and said, oh, mother, I have knocked my brother's head off. And she cried and cried and could not be comforted. Marlene said the mother, what have you done? Be quiet and don't let anyone know about it. It cannot be helped. Now we will cook him into the stew. Then the mother took the little boy and shopped him in pieces, put him into the pot, and cooked him into stew. But Marlene stood by crying and crying, and all her tears fell into the pot, and they did not need any salt. Then the father came home and sat down at the table and said where is my son? And the mother served up a large large dish of stew, and Marlene cried and could not stop. Then the father said again, where is my son? Oh, said the mother. He has gone across the country to his mother's great uncle. He will stay there for a while. What is he doing there? He did not even say good bye to me. Oh, he wanted to go, and he asked me if he could stay six weeks. He will be well taken care of there. Oh, said the man. I am unhappy.
This isn't right.
He should have said good bye to me. With that, he began to eat, saying Marlen, why are you crying? Your brother will certainly come back then, he said, wife, this food is delicious. Give me some more. And the more he ate, the more he wanted. And he said, give me some more. You two shall have none of it seems to me as if it were all mine. And he ate and ate, throwing all the bones under the table until he had finished it all. Marlen went to her chest drawers, took her best silk scarf from the bottom drawer, and carried all the bones from beneath the table and tied them up in her silk scarf, then carried them outside the door. Crying tears of blood. She laid them down beneath the juniper tree on the green grass, and after she had put them there, she suddenly felt better and did not cry anymore. The juniper tree began to move. The branches moved apart, then moved together again, just as if someone were rejoicing and clapping his hands. At the same time. A mist seemed to rise from the tree. And in the center of this mist it burned like a fire, and a beautiful bird flew out of the fire, singing magnificently, and it flew high into the air, and then it was gone. The juniper tree was just as it had been before, and the cloth with the bones was no longer there. Marlene, however, was as happy and contented as if her brother was still alive. And she he went merrily into the house, sat down at the table, and ate. The bird flew away and lit on a goldsmith's house and began to sing, My mother she killed me, My father, he ate me. My sister. Marlene gathered all my bones, tied them in a silken scarf, laid them beneath the juniper tree. Tweet, tweet, What a beautiful bird am I? The goldsmith was sitting in his workshop making a golden chain when he heard the bird sitting on his roof and singing. The song seemed very beautiful to him. He stood up, but as he crossed the threshold he lost one.
Of his slippers.
However, he went right up the middle of the street with only one slipper and one sock on. He had his leather apron on, and in one hand he had a golden chain and in the other his tongs. The sun was shining brightly on the street. He walked onward, then stood still and said to the bird, bird, he said, how beautifully you can sing?
Sing that piece again?
For me, No, said the bird. I do not sing twice for nothing. Give me the golden chain, and then I will sing it again for you. Here is the golden chain for you. Now sing that song again for me. Then the bird came and took the golden chain in his right claw, and went and sat in front of the goldsmith and sang, my mother she killed me. My father he ate me. My sister Marlene gathered all my bones, tied them in a silken scarf, laid them beneath the juniper tree.
Tweet tweaked, What a beautiful bird am I?
Then the bird flew away to a shoemaker and lit on his roof and sang, my mother, she killed me, My father he ate me. My sister Marlen gathered all my bones, tied them in a silken scarf, laid them beneath the juniper tree. Tweet tweet, What a beautiful bird am I? Hearing this, the shoemaker ran out of doors in his shirt sleeves and looked at up at his roof and had to hold his hand in front of his eyes to keep the sun from blinding him. Bird, He said, how beautifully you can sing? Then he called in at his door wife, come outside, there's a bird here.
Look at this bird.
You certainly can sing. Then he called his daughter and her children, and the journeymen, and the apprentice and the maid, and they all came out into the street and looked at the bird and saw how beautiful he was, and what fine red and green feathers he had, and how his neck was like pure gold, and how his eyes shone like stars in his head. Bird said the shoemaker, Now sing that song again for me. No, said the bird. I do not sing twice for nothing. You must give me something. Wife said the man. Go into the shop. There's a pair of red shoes on the top shelf.
Bring them down.
Then the wife went and.
Brought the shoes there.
Birds, said the man, Now sing that piece again for me. Then the bird came and took the shoe in his left claw, and flew back to the roof and sang, my mother she killed me, My father he ate me, and my sister Marlene. Gathered on my bones, tied them in a silken scarf, laid them beneath the juniper tree. Twee tweet, What a beautiful bird ever I. When he had finished his song, he flew away in his right claw, he had the chain, and in his left warm the shoes.
He flew far.
Away to a mill, and the mill went crickety clack, crickety clack, crickety clack. In the mill sat twenty millers apprentices cutting a stone and chiseling chip toop, chiptop, chip top, and the mill went clickety clack, clickty clack, crickety clap. Then the bird went and sat on a linden tree which stood in front of the mill, and sang, my mother, she killed me. Then one of them stopped working. My father he ate me. Then two more stopped working, and less and my sister Marlene. Then four more stopped, gathered all my bones, tied them in a silken scarf. Now only eight were chiseling, laid them beneath, now only five the juniper tree. Now only one tweet tweet, What a beautiful bird am I? Then the last one stopped also and heard the last words bird, He said, how beautiful you sing? Let me hear that too. Sing it once more for me, No, said the bird. I do not sing twice for nothing. Give me the millstone and then I will sing it again. Yes, he said, if it belonged only to me. You should have it, yes, said the other. If he sings again, he can have it. Then the bird came down, and the twenty millers took a beam and lifted the stone up.
Yo. Heave ho yo, heave ho yo, heave holl.
The bird stuck his neck through the hole and put stone on as if it were a collar. Then flew to the tree again and sang, my mother she killed me, My father he ate me. My sister Marlene gathered all my bones, tied them in a silken scarf, laid them beneath the juniper tree.
Tweet tweet, What a beautiful.
Bird am I. When he was finished singing, he spread his wings, and in his right claw he had the chain, and in his left one the shoes, and around his neck the millstone. He flew far away to his father's house. In the room, the father, the mother, and Marlene were sitting at the table. The father said, I feel so contented. I am so happy. Not, I said the mother. I feel uneasy, just as if a bad storm were coming. But Marlene just sat and cried and cried. Then the bird flew up, and as it seated itself on the roof, the father said Oh, I feel so truly happy, and the sun is shining so beautifully outside. I feel as if I were about to see some old acquaintance again. Not, I said the woman. I am so afraid that my teeth are chattering, and I feel like I have fire in my veins. And she tore open her bodice even more. Marlene sat in a corner crying. She held a handkerchief before her eyes and cried until it was wet clear through. Then the bird seated itself on the juniper tree and sang, my mother, she killed me. The mother stopped her ears and shut her eyes, not wanting to see or hear. But there was a roaring in her ears like the fiercest storm, and her eyes burned and flashed like lightning. My father he ate me, Oh, mother, said the man. That is a beautiful bird. He's singing so splendidly, and the sun is shining so warmly, and it smells like pure cinnamon, my sister Marlene. Then Marlene laid her head on her knee and cried and cried. But the man said, I'm going out. I must see the bird up close. Oh don't go, said the woman. I feel as if the whole house were shaking and on fire. But the man went out and looked at the bird, gathered all my bones, tied them in a silken scarf, laid them beneath the juniper tree.
Tweet tweaked, what a beautiful bird am I?
With this? The bird dropped the golden chain, and it fell right around the man's neck, so exactly around it that it fit beautifully. Then the man went in and said, just look what a beautiful bird that is, and what a beautiful golden chain he has given me, and how nice it looks. But the woman was terrified. She fell down on the floor in the room, and her cap fell off her head. Then the bird sang once more, my mother, she killed me. I wish I were a thousand fathoms beneath the earth so I would not have to hear that.
My father ate me.
The woman fell down as if she were dead. My sister Marlin, Oh, said Marlene, I too will go out and see if the bird will give me something. Then she went out, gathered all my bones, tied them in a silken scarf. He threw the shoes down to her, laid them beneath the juniper tree. Tweet tweet, what a beautiful bird. And I then she was so contented and happy.
She put on the new red shoes.
And danced and leaped into the house. Oh, she said, I was so sad when I went out, and now I am so contented. That is a splendid bird. He has given me a pair of red shoes. No, said the woman, jumping to her feet, and with her hair standing up like flames of a fire. I feel as if the world were coming to an end. I too, will go out and see if it makes me feel better. And as she went out the door crash. The bird threw the millstone on her head, and it crushed her to death. The father and Marlene heard it and went out. Smoke, flames and fire were rising from the place. And when that was over, the little brother was standing there, and he took his father and Marlene by the hand, and all three were very happy, and they went into the house, sat down at the table, and.
Ate more on the juniper tree. After the break the Juniper Tree is considered the darkest collected tale by the Grim Brothers. In fact, the stories listed under at U seven twenty are also titled My Mother slew Me, My Father ate to me. Folklorist Maria Tatar, who's written extensively about the Grim Tales, said that it is probably the most shocking of all fairy tales, and not just of Grim but of all tales. So what makes it so dark? We know in other fairy tales the stepmother is a bad guy, but there's usually a reason for it. Stepmothers are looking out for themselves so they don't starve to death like a handle and Gretel, or they're looking out for their own biological children to secure an inheritance. However, folkloreist doctor Lynn McNeil says the stepmother's actions and the juniper tree are beyond redemption.
We could say, man, she's looking out for herself and her daughter. That makes sense, But the way to make us not think that at all is to have her set the body up, put the head back on the shoulders, and ask the other child to slap them across the face. That suddenly it's like, nope, no more, no, we cannot make any excuses for her. She is just evil because there's a there's almost a level of unsettling enjoyment in that, you know, there's almost a she's we get no description that she finds her work distasteful. She sets this child's body up in a chair, right, she is like, all right, I know what to do, and then she cooks and eats him and makes someone else think that they're.
To be Doctor McNeil says, the stepmother takes her evilness a step further by involving her own daughter. She's not only messing with her step son, but also her own flesh and blood.
She sits his body on a chair, puts his head back on his neck, ties the scarf around it so you can't see what's happened, and then asks his sister to come in and interact with him, and makes her think that she knocked his head off when she slaps him on the cheek. I mean, this is like the worst kind of horrific gaslighting ever. Like this young girl is being made to believe she murdered her brother so that she will be complicit in hiding the crime from her father. It is so horrifying. The whole thing, just the deviousness, the complexity of it. The whole thing is absolutely horrible.
I've had visceral reactions to the cannibalism and some of these stories, but in the Juniper Tree. There was a different element that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Doctor McNeil helped me understand what that element is.
We see a lot of monsters eating people in fairy tales, the wolf swallowing, Little Red riding Hood and Grandma Hole, the giant in Jack and the beanstalk. Who's gonna eat Jack? Somehow wolves and giants sort of get a pass. We understand that they eat people because they're monsters, right. Giants, wolves, they are predators, They are you know, supernatural evil things that eat people. This is someone's dad eating them. So we are on a whole different level of cannibalism that really leans into the taboo nature of it. And so the cannibalism becomes insidious on this level that I think is really unsettling in a way that it's not when a monster's doing it. And I think that's what I think, that's what gives this tale its staying power, but it's also what has led it to be lesser known.
Even though it's, as doctor McNeil says, lesser known. There are several hundred versions of the Juniper Tree, and most of the other versions were recorded and published with any century of the Grims. The first recorded version was titled The Almond Tree. It was collected by Philip Otto Runge and was published in a journal in eighteen oh eight. Runge was a German Romantic painter, draftsman, and art theorist. He's known for his expressive portraits and symbolic landscapes. He's also known for his groundbreaking color theory. He introduced the color sphere during the last year of his life in eighteen ten. It was one of the first attempts to create a comprehensive color system in three dimensions. Runge didn't specify a source for the story. He did give the Brothers Grimma copy, and it was that story, the one you heard at the beginning of this episode, that the Brothers included in their eighteen twelve collection. The same story was included in all their future collections, although with stylistic and dialect variations. The Little Boy in the Wicked Stepmother is a Romanian tale written by Moses Gastor. Remember he's also the person who collected the Romanian version of the Robber Bridegroom, in which a girl was sold to an innkeeper who killed travelers and served their meat to his guests, but today's story was published in nineteen fifteen. The Little Boy and the Wicked Stepmother actually combines a to U three two seven Hondol and Gretel and today's tale type ATU seven twenty. There is a poor man who has a wife and two children, a girl and a boy. After his wife dies, the man remarries. The new wife gives her husband no peace. Finally, she tells him to get rid of the children or they shall starve. At first, the man resists, but eventually gives in The children hear everything. The next day, the father tells the kids to come with him to the forest while he chops wood. Before they leave, the little girl fills her pockets with ashes and drops bits along the way. After reaching the densest part of the forest, the father lies, saying he's going to cut wood and then come back for the kids, but he doesn't return. The two wait for a long while, but finally the girl understands what's happened. Using her trail of ashes, the two find their way home. Their stepmother is so angry she does not know what to do with herself. She almost goes out of her mind with fury.
If she could, she.
Would quote, swallow them in a spoonful of water. When the stepmother realizes she can't get her husband to do anything about the children, she takes matters into her own hands. One morning, when her husband is away, she kills the little boy. She then takes him to the sister and commands her to cut him up and prepare a meal for all of them. The little girl, afraid of being killed herself, does as instructed. But the little girl takes the heart and hides it in the hollow of a tree. When the stepmother asks where it is, she lies and says a dog took it away. When the husband comes home, they all sit down to eat the meal. The father has no idea he's eating his son. The little girl, however, refuses to touch her meal. After they are done, the girl collects the bones and also hides them in the hollow of the tree. The next morning, a little bird with dark feathers emerges from the tree's hollows, singing, cuckoo. My sister has cooked me and my father has eaten me. But I am now a cuckoo and safe from my stepmother. The stepmother is near the tree, and here is the bird. In her rage and fright. She takes a heavy lump of salt to throw at the bird, but it lands on her head instead, killing her on the spot. The little boy remains a cuckoo to this day. Another story titled The Satin Frock comes from Yorkshire, England. The tale was collected by S. O. Addie and published in eighteen ninety seven. Addie said it was told to him from C. R. Hurst, who initially heard it from a thirteen year old girl. Addie was an English author who lived around the turn of the nineteenth century. He wrote books on history and folklore. Hurst was a woman who adopted a masculine version of her name. She was an artist who began with water colors, but then took on an illusionistic technique to critique male pastimes. The tail begins with a little girl named Mary who has a satin frock. Her mother warns her that if she gets the frock dirty then she will kill her. Mary is out for a walk one day when she passes cows who splashed mud onto her frock. She sits down on a doorstep and begins to cry. A woman in the house hears her and asks what's wrong. When Mary explains, the woman takes Mary in, washes and dries a frock, and then sends Mary on her way, warning the girl not to get her frock dirty again. But down the road a horse runs by, splashing Mary's frock with mud again. When Mary gets home, her mother takes her to the cellar, cuts her head off, and hangs her head on the wall. When the father gets home and asks for Mary, the mother lies and says she's staying at her grandmother's before our bedtime. The father says he will fetch the firewood, but the wife says, no, she will. This goes back and forth, but the father won't let her, so the father goes to the cellar and sees the head. When he comes back up, he asks his wife what it is. She tells him it's a sheep's head for dinner tomorrow. At dinner the next night, the husband says, this broth is nice, but it does taste like our Mary. The wife is frightened, for when her husband finds out what has been done, he takes his wife to the cellar and kills her. All of these tales are shockingly violent, So what exactly are tales like these? And the juniper tree trying to tell us the brothers Grim were incredibly religious. Jacob and Wilhelm were raised Lutheran. This is one of the reasons why they would censor or change their stories. But modern readers are more apt to criticize the Juniper Tree for blending a fairy tale with heavy handed bisblical illusions. In the book The Annotated Classic Fairy Tales, folklorist Maria Tatar says that the beginning of the story stands out because it sets a date. Remember, the tale starts as many as two thousand years ago, and Tatar says this specification of an era is unusual in fairy tales. The figure of two thousand years ago anchors the tale in biblical times and suggests a connection with the origin of Christianity in light of the boy's death and resurrection. The date has a special significance, but there's more than that. For example, when the evil One convinces the stepmother to kill her step son, it's an allusion to the devil possessing her. The apple is also an allusion to the Garden of Eden, when the devil tricked Eve into eating the apple, and then Eve tricked Adam, which ultimately leads to Adam's death. Of course, that's only a couple examples. More recently, the juniper tree has been adapted into novels, incorporated into short stories, and has been inspiration for visual art. One of the most well known adaptations was a nineteen ninety Icelandic film starring the now famous artist b York. The film follows a story of two sisters. The younger sister, Marguite, is played by b Yorke, and her older sister is named Katla. Their mother has been killed for being a witch. Katlaw tells Marguite that she'll find a husband and cast a spell to make sure the two are loved and cared for. The sisters run across a widowed farmer and his son. While Katlaw is casting her spell. The son sees her and becomes suspicious. Marguite and the sun become closer, but as the movie progresses, Katla eventually tricks the boy into jumping off a cliff to his death. When Katlaw serves as stew made out of the boy's fingers, Marguite sees a finger internally freaks out and goes to bury it later at his dead mother's grave. The next day, a large juniper tree has grown at the site and a raven has taken up residence. Marguite runs back to confess to the father what her sister did. Her sister flees terrified, and Marguite and the farmer are left to tend to the tree and raven. But in the end, the farmer goes in search of cotlaw and Marguite is left on her own. Although it's not found in the b York adaptation, one similar theme found in most grim stories is that beauty can be dangerous. In some grim tales, beauty symbolizes the inherent good in someone, but a common sentiment among German folk at the time of the Grim Brothers was that beauty could bring bad luck. Here's doctor McNeil.
So you will often see there are many traditional societies where there's a folk custom of spitting on your baby or licking your thumb and smearing it on your baby's face after someone has openly admired your baby, because that level of admiration is on a fairly instinctive folk belief level thought to draw negativity or bad luck.
So if you look at the juniper tree, the boy was doomed from the beginning.
And this child the young son. He's not just any child. He is this perfection worth dying for. In his mother's eyes. This was worth it to her. She didn't die of like a troubled childbirth. She didn't die of bleeding out or even of sorrow. She died of joy, of happiness at this beautiful baby boy. And right there we see one of the interesting paradoxes of fairy tales, which is that usually it's not a great thing to stand out for being beautiful. That really just draws attention to you in ways you don't like. So we get this strange presentation in fairy tales where like a dire sort of beauty. It's too much beauty, it's too striking, it's too contrasting, is just going to bring you trouble. So this young boy is sort of doomed from the outset because who wouldn't be jealous of him? What mother wouldn't show up and say, why isn't my child as incredible as this child?
The tale also surfaces another theme we've come across before, human agency. If you notice, the only one who has any saying what happens to them is a stepmother. She drives a plot along so to speak, but the mother, father, sister, and little boy have things happening to them. They lack the ability to control their own fates. Along with human agency, the story questions humanity's goodness.
All of the magical elements in the story are the positive ones, and the negative elements of this story are all just really basely human, just driven by self serving evil people, and that's it. And when magic kicks in, it's to restore that balance. It's almost like the more effective moral is humans are awful, which is really disappointing.
As with all the fairy tales we've explored in this series, the Juniper Treat doesn't have a singular moral. Some say it explores the problems and usefulness of desire, or that it teaches imperfections can be good and real beauty comes from the soul. But maybe, if anything, it's simply a warning to be good. As we've traversed the woods with Hansel and Gretel saved a little girl and her grandmother from a hungry wolf, and princesses learn to save themselves, the brothers Grim have taught us about the shortcomings of society while still reminding us that good exists. These tales give us an idea of where we were, but also where we need to go, and in a way, it reminds us how humanity is linked by universal themes that spend time and cultures. Fairy Tales break down difficult problems and ideas. It's why these stories get introduced to us as children and why we revisit them as adults, because they are truly for everyone. The Brothers Grim fairy Tales may be dark, but they do more than give us warnings about the shadowy corners of what it means to be human. They remind us there's always a little bit of magic hidden all around us. Our journey has come to an end. We've made it out the other side. Thanks for joining me through the.
Deep Dark Woods.
The Deep Dark Woods is a production of School of Humans and iHeart Podcasts. It was created, written, and hosted by me Miranda Hawkins. I also sound designed and mixed this episode. This episode was produced by MIKEL. June and senior producer Gabby Watts. Executive producers are Virginia Prescott, Brandon Barr, el C Crowley, and Maya Howard. Stories were voiced by Julia Christgau. Theme song was composed by Jesse Niswanger. You can follow the show on Instagram at School of Humans and don't forget to subscribe and leave a review.
