here a number of cleverly-used popular animal tales, more than two
thousand years old, whose home was in all probability Syria or Egypt,
embedded in a collection which has deeply influenced the apocryphal
Book of Tobit, and to a certain degree even the writers of the New
Testament, as shown by Professors Rendel Harris and Conybeare in
the Introduction to their edition of the Story of Ahikar (second
edition). The claim for an Indian origin of these fables will
have to be abandoned, unless someone could show older writings
from India, and the possible road by which these fables could have
reached the Western shore of Asia Minor and been taken up by the
peoples of Syria and Egypt at such an early date. It is not at all
unlikely that some of the fables, just as they travelled westwards,
also travelled eastwards and found a home in India as they found a
home in Rumania and Russia. If one remembers now that the fabulous
"Life" of Aesop ascribed to Planudes is almost identical with part of
that of Ahikar, as I have shown, as far back as 1883 in my History
of the Rumanian Popular Literature (Bucharest 1883, p. 104 ff.),
it will not be difficult to account for the West-Asiatic origin of
the fables themselves.
From a Rumanian MS. of the eighteenth century, I have since published
the fuller narrative of that version in an English translation
(the Journal of the Royal As. Soc., 1900, pp. 301-319). The two
tales contained therein have also been reprinted here at the end
of the collection, especially as they vary somewhat from the other
ancient and mediæval recensions of the Story of Ahikar. This story
has become one of the Rumanian popular chap-books in the shortened
version of Anton Pann. The practical application of the fable, the
"moralisation," is a second stage, limited, as it seems, to the purely
literary composition. The people put their own interpretations upon
the fables and often dispensed with any such interpretations.
We are brought back again to the same centre, Syria and Byzance,
for the dissemination of these fables. Such tales were then within
the reach of the teaching of the various sects, such as Manichaeans,
Bogomils, Cathars, etc., and travelled with them from East to West,
where they met the other current of the Aesopian fables transmitted to
the West through Latin and Arabic sources. According to this theory
the religious sectarians made deft use also of animal tales, for the
purpose of inculcating a moral, of drawing a lesson, of holding up the
Church and State to the ridicule and contempt of the masses, and thus
creating the animal satire, the best type of which is the cycle of
Reynard the Fox. I am not oblivious of the fact that an allegorical
use has been made of animal tales in the Arabic literature, such as
the "Judgment of the Animals," under the title of Hai ben Yokdhan,
written in Arabic by Ibn Tophail, translated into English by Simon
Ockley in 1711, in which the lion holds a court, and animal after
animal appears to accuse man; or the collection of Sahula (thirteenth
cent.) in his ancient apologue Mashal ha-kadmoni. But there is no
real connection between this cycle and that of Reynard the Fox.
Any reference to the epic of Reynard the Fox must be incidental. It can
only be alluded to here, and not followed up in detail. A real Western
origin for these tales, taking them separately or as "branches,"
as they appear in the old French versions, has not been found,
nor any explanation for their sudden appearance in the eleventh or
twelfth century.
There are two or three points in connection with this cycle which have
to be kept steadily in view. In the first place its almost complete
independence of the purely Aesopian fable with its polished form,
with its thinly-disguised human attributes, and with its stilted
and stiff "moral." Though modified somehow in Babrius, Avianus, even
Marie de France and Berachya, this latter cycle belongs more to the
literary class. The "clerks" could not take umbrage at them. Not so the
tales in the Reynard cycle. They are thoroughly popular. The animals
retain their natural attributes, they act as they are expected to do,
and they are utilised in the same manner as "political broadsides"
were in later times. The human beings represented in these "satirical
sheets" are disguised as animals, and not the animals disguised as
human beings. There lies the profound difference between these two
sets of beast tales.
And because of their animal propensity, the human beings are ridiculed
and lampooned in the form of animals and held up to the scorn and
laughter of the reader. The bad man, as in the old story of Ahikar, is
likened to the beast, and chastised accordingly. The popular origin
and character of this kind of satire is self-evident. Courtiers
and clerks would not attempt such persiflage of their superiors,
and certainly not in so sustained a manner.
Of the men thus ridiculed none are so virulently assailed as the
Clergy. People do not mind occasionally a slight skit on priests and
other privileged classes, and there are abundant fabliaux which leave
very little to be desired from the point of view of ridicule. But to
have singled out the Clergy for such unmeasured vituperation shows a
deliberate attempt to lower and destroy the influence and authority
of the Church in general and of its ministers in particular. Only
partisans of heterodox teaching could find pleasure and profit in
applying the beast tales to break down the walls of the Church. Only
men in contact with the masses could throw that leaven of critical
examination into the hearts of the people and open their eyes by
means of animal tales to the weaknesses and vices of their official
clergy. Such outspoken criticism seldom comes from within. It is
often imported wholesale from without, or at least comes from an
opposing quarter. In their polemical propaganda these heterodox
teachers brought and used also some of those fox tales for which,
significantly enough, parallels are to be found mostly in Slavonic
tales from Russia and the Balkans.
If such be the partial origin of these Reynard tales, one can easily
understand why they appeared in the eleventh or twelfth century,
and notably in the countries then the very centres of such heterodox
teaching: South of France, Flanders and elsewhere. A very remarkable
fact seems to corroborate this hypothesis. One of the presumed authors
of a "branch" of the French Reynard cycle, Pierre Cloot, was burnt in
Paris in 1208 for heresy. Here we have a man who paid with his life
for his heretic faith, actually working on these tales. It may be a
mere coincidence, still some connection between the Reynard poem and
"heretics" cannot be denied.
With the victory of the Church, Reynard nearly disappeared, yet that
satirical leaven has continued to work in those political animal
broadsides, which stretch from the "Who killed Cock Robin?" in England
to "Who killed the Cat?" in Russia among the Russian broadsides.
There remains now still one section of these Rumanian tales to be
considered, that in which the origin of the animal is closely connected
with what is commonly known as the fairy tale. It is just in this fact
that the pre-eminence of these tales can be found. It is like a window
through which the East is looking westwards. It is noteworthy that the
"fairy tales" found here connected with the origin of the birds and
beasts do not stand so isolated as the legends. To more than one of
them parallels may be adduced from other than Eastern collections. In
spite of similarity, they differ, however, in many points so profoundly
that they lead to a very serious question. It cannot be passed over,
though it cannot be treated here at such length as the problem raised
would demand. To put it briefly, the difference between these fairy
tales and those of the West, is that in these versions of the former
a "moral" or perhaps a plausible reason is given to the fairy tale
which is often missing in the general form of the fairy tales.
The question has been asked repeatedly, "What is the meaning of such
and such a tale," e.g. the "Cinderella" tales or "Bluebeard"? To
Miss Cox's indefatigable labour we owe a monumental investigation of
the first-mentioned tale, and yet for all that the main question has
remained unanswered. This is but one example out of many.
Every collection of fairy tales teems with them. Of course, the
æsthetic pleasure of seeing innocence triumphant and virtue rewarded
might be a sufficient motive, and no doubt often is. The people
like to see, in the imaginary tale, a vindication of the justice
which they often miss in real life. The adventurous hero will also
appeal to the chivalrous instincts of the people, and especially to
the young. Such tales as the epic romances of old require no further
explanation. Still there are a good many fairy tales the reason and
meaning of which are anything but clear. If it can now be shown that
there is a cosmogonic background, or one which gives the clue to
it, inasmuch as it tells the "origin" of certain creatures, such a
tale is at once its own explanation and justification: if e.g. the
final development of "Cinderella" is not that she becomes the wife
of a prince, but that she becomes the "dove" or the "sparrow," then
"Cinderella" assumes a definite meaning. Under other influences,
when such heterodox teachings cannot be tolerated by the powers that
be, obviously the creation tales, with this specific character, had
to lose their "tail," as the stork does in the story, and hence the
fairy tale became partly meaningless. Thus, if the "Bluebeard" could
no longer be "a cannibal," as in the tale No. 83, such a person not
being tolerated in a modern state, except as a wizard, lycanthropos,
or werwolf, he had to be changed into what he is now. The modern
"Bluebeard" is a mere pale reflex of the original monster. He does
not even make the flesh creep sufficiently. This watering down may
have taken place also in other tales which appear to us without any
sense. They have lost that decisive part which gave point to the story.
I am fully aware of the objection which could be raised against this
view of the original character of some of our fairy tales. It might
be urged with some show of plausibility that the process might have
been an inverse one, that the popular story-teller used a fairy tale
to tack on his moral, that the question of the origin of the bird or
insect was an "after-thought," and did not belong originally to the
tale. Theoretically, such an objection could be urged, and it might
even gain in force if applied to the fairy tales of the West. Andersen,
not to speak of minor poets, would supply a proof of it. But we must
bear in mind that we are dealing with the unsophisticated people,
who would not use the folk-lore material in the manner of the
literary artist. They have no preconceived idea to which a tale
or legend is made artificially to fit. Moreover, these tales and
legends are believed in implicitly. They bear the stamp of their
primitiveness. They do not represent a later degree of development,
such as the parallels from the West often show. The existence side by
side with them of other creation tales of animals is an additional
support of the view that the fairy tales have not been "edited" or
adapted to cosmogonic purposes to explain the origin of beast and bird.
Fairy tales are, as a rule, taken out of the range of the survival
theory. The similarity of fairy tales, so striking among a large
number of nations, precludes the possibility of seeing in them local
survivals, and yet it appears unscientific to separate one section
of oral literature from the other. The line of demarcation between
creation legend and creation fairy tale is so thin that it is often
indistinguishable. Both spring from the same root, and the theory that
endeavours to explain the origin of the one must also be applicable
to the other.
In the theory of survivals, however, no attempt is made to deal at
the same time with the question of origins. It has not yet been made
clear, by any of the more prominent representatives of the theory
of survivals, how the similarity in customs and ceremonies is to
be explained, in tales and fables, between the most diverse nations
living separated from one another. If these survivals represent local
tradition, which has persisted throughout the ages, how, then, does it
come to pass that they should resemble so closely other ceremonies and
customs observed by different nations also as local traditions? Is it
to be inferred that at some distant time, far back in the prehistoric
ages, some such ceremonies were used, that, in spite of evolution
and separation, they have survived everywhere almost unchanged, in
spite of the profound modifications of the nations in their ethnical,
political and religious status? Either they are local inventions,
in which case they could not resemble any other, or they all go back
to one common stock, and have survived in such a miraculous manner
contrary to every law of human nature. The only explanation feasible
and satisfactory is, I believe, the theory of transmission from nation
to nation; those resembling one another closely in modern Europe are
not of so early an age as has hitherto been assumed, but have come at
a certain time from one definite centre, and were propagated among the
nations, and disseminated by means of a great religious movement at
a time when the political and national consolidation of the peoples
of Europe had already assumed a definite shape.
To this conclusion we are forced by the examination of these Rumanian
animal tales in their manifold aspect, "creation" tales, fables, fairy
tales. They are all more or less of comparatively recent origin. They
owe their actual shape to the dualistic teaching of the Manichaeans
and Bogomils. They have come by these intermediaries of the religious
sects from Syria and the Balkans. These tales stopped first among the
nations in the Near East, and then by the same agency were carried to
the extreme West. Only in such wise can we explain the appearance of
these tales--whatever their archaic character may be--among nations
of comparatively recent origin like those now under consideration,
Rumanians, Bulgars, Russians and even Saxons and Hungarians. This
is the only possible explanation of the very remarkable dualistic
character, and of the peculiar teachings embodied in these tales. For,
whatever these nations have in common, there cannot be any question
of survivals, for the reasons advanced above. All the nations are
comparatively modern. It is impossible to assume that what might be
a Latin survival among the Rumanians could be so closely connected
with what might be a Turanian survival among the Bulgars or a
Pelasgian survival among the Albanians. There might be found among
these tales traces of more ancient beliefs, myths and customs, just
as it is possible to find similar traces among the folk-lore of the
nations of the West. But what I contend is that these are not local
survivals--that, whatever their primitive character may be, they
need not originally belong to the nations among whom they are found
now. They were brought by the same movement that brought the tales
and legends, customs and ceremonies. The new and the old were carried
along by the same stream of tradition and religious influence. An
adjustment and readjustment of materials, the placing of layer upon
layer, localisation and assimilation then took place. But these are
rocks swept along by the stream and deposited far away from the place
of origin, or, to take another simile, that of the insect and the
amber. The amber has been carried from the North Sea many centuries
ago, nay, thousands of years ago, along the trade routes from North
to South, and has found its way also to ancient Egypt. Embedded in the
amber we have here and there a North European insect which was caught
at the time when the amber was still a liquid, and, imprisoned in it,
became fossilised, and was carried a long distance. If found, then,
among the beads in the tombs of the ancient Pharaohs, no one could
say that that insect was of Egyptian origin, or that fly a remnant
of the local fauna. It had come thither together with the amber that
carried it, and may have remained there if the amber had decayed.
In the same manner ancient customs, ancient beliefs and ancient
tradition have been caught in the liquid tales, apologues and legends,
like the fly in the amber, and carried along with them from East
to West. In this manner they may perhaps be termed survivals, but
survivals of a different kind than has been assumed hitherto. They have
survived only as long as they were tolerated in the lore of the people.
Hand in hand with dissemination go the assimilation and localisation of
these diverse elements. It is impossible to do more within the compass
of this introduction than merely touch the fringe of a far-reaching
problem which arises from the examination of these peculiar beast and
bird tales. One of the most instructive examples of this religious
syncretism, of the manner in which it has influenced the people, and
the form in which it has been preserved, localised, and assimilated,
among them, is shown to advantage in the stories of the origin of
the Glow-worm and in the stories of the Bee. Some of the cosmogonic
legends of the Rumanians are also found among the Balkan people. They
are a fragmentary reflex of a great conception of the world. If I
may use the mystical and symbolical language of the legends, they are
also sparks from a great light that had fallen down from heaven. The
creation of man, the fall of the angels, are here curiously blended
together. They represent part of the teaching that went under many
names but, in essence, was one. That is, of course, the belief in
the dualism of the creative powers, the good God and the wicked one,
styled Satan.
From these tales and legends, which are derived from well-known
apocryphal writings, we can see how deeply the latter have entered the
life of nations which have not yet fallen under the unifying sway of
strict dogmatism, and how unable the people are to grasp the higher
spiritual interpretations of the dogmas and practices of the Church.
From a purely dogmatic point of view, all these tales are rank heresy;
but who among the simple folk knows the distinction between orthodox
and heretical teaching? The people are more easily disposed towards
a simple philosophy which explains satisfactorily the phenomena of
life. They listen with pleasure to tales of imagination. One of the
fundamental theories of Gnosticism or, rather later, of dualism,
is this peculiar conception of the creation. The world is divided
between the power of light and the power of darkness. The latter is
anxious to participate in the possession of light, and for that reason
steals some, which it breaks up into sparks and covers over with
thick matter so that it may not escape. These sparks are the human
soul deeply embedded in human clay, anxious always to be reunited
with the ancient glory.
In this Gnostic teaching we have the very source of the legend of these
angelic sparks now relegated to glow-worms, originally placed in other
"earthly worms"--the human race. We hear, moreover, the faint echo of
the fall of the angels and of the angels of a lower rank inhabiting
(and ruling) the planets and the stars. We even have the legend, found
in the Book of Enoch, of the angels who fell in love with a woman and
remain upon earth as evil spirits, whilst she is translated to heaven
and becomes a star. The interest lies not only in the fact that these
ancient religious conceptions have been so faithfully preserved among
the people, but also in the manner of their preservation. They have
been adapted to the understanding of the folk, and, from dogmatic
teachings, they have become beautiful popular legends. But the inner
meaning has been entirely lost. The old sparks have been embedded in
very thick clay indeed, as can be seen in the treatment meted out to
God, Christ, the Virgin, the Apostles and Saints. They are greeted
with an apparent lack of reverence and respect that must disturb the
equanimity of people of a Puritanic mind. The gods could not have been
put on a footing of greater familiarity; it almost borders on the
burlesque. Primitive nations show the same apparent want of respect
to their gods, idols or fetishes, and we are inclined to put them on
a lower scale of faith and reverence than the peoples of Europe.
A better knowledge of the life and religion of the peoples in the East
and of the Eastern part of Europe would soon change such a view. In
fact, I believe, that if we could descend to the lower depths of
the masses of Western Europe, and especially of those in Catholic
countries, and get a peep into their innermost soul, we should not find
it very different from that of the Slav and the Rumanian. The Saints
are not treated differently in Spain and in Italy on the one hand, or
in Rumania and in Bulgaria, or even Russia, on the other. They have all
the same essential conditions in common, viz. all have a Pantheon of
Saints of various degrees and of both sexes. In Protestant countries
the people have been impoverished. All the saints have been driven
away; a cold abstract spirituality has taken their place, and yet depth
of fervour and strength of belief cannot be denied to these Eastern
peoples. There is, moreover, a sufficient fund of humour and innate
rectitude to keep them at a certain level of morality and albeit free
from the hypocrisy of the so-called higher civilization. So that, if
the Rumanians take liberties with God and the Church and the Saints,
and pay homage to the Devil by mocking and laughing at the jokes
which God performs for his confusion, it is all done more in the
spirit of good-natured banter, not in that of polemical or fanatical
intolerance. Why should the poor Devil not also occasionally have a
good time? He is always sure to be outwitted in the long run.
I am fully aware of the objection that may be raised against
attributing so much influence to the activity and propaganda of the
heretical sects. It may be argued, that their influence was not in
any way commensurate with the results ascribed to them, that they
did not carry the masses with them to such an extent as to leave
indelible traces on their religious life and popular imagery. Some
may go so far as to look upon their activity as similar to that
of some of the mendicant friars during the Middle Ages. Yet the
mendicant friars were able to exercise a tremendous influence upon
the people and, helped by other political powers, they were able to
create a movement which led up to the Crusades. It seized upon the
masses of Europe with an irresistible force. In a minor, yet no less
effective manner, the same agencies were able to arm the Kings of
France against the Albigenses in Provence. Church history, however,
shows very clearly that the power of the Manichaeans was so great
that it has taken the Church many centuries to bring the fight to a
satisfactory close.--The Cathars (pure) have given the name Ketzer to
the German heretics, and every language in Europe shows traces of this
heretic nomenclature.--The struggle was a terrible and a long one,
and if it had not been for the secular arm which placed itself at
the service of the Church for political reasons, who knows whether
the Romish Church would have come out victorious in the struggle?