 Good evening everybody and welcome. I'm so glad you're here and I have to find my remarks they got hidden under snow white. My name is Elizabeth Sackler and I have the great pleasure of being chair of the Brooklyn Museum and also of having started the Elizabeth A. Sackler Center for Feminist Art in 2007 and I am delighted oh thank you that's very kind thank you I'm delighted that we are doing this evening with the drawing center it is the first time that we have come together as two institutions and it is a delight to have you in our house so I'm very happy to have a reading and book signing for Natalie Frank with her Grimm's fairy tales. In September 2009 I had the pleasure of moderating a panel called a woman's touch the figure now. It was at the National Academy of Art and I think the National Academy of Art which was closed to women until fairly recently decided they needed to get some young female blood on the walls and opened it up and I moderated a panel with Leslie Dill and Shannon Plum and Natalie Frank and it was at that point that I saw Natalie's work for the first time actually and I quite fell in love with her talent and with her mind and with her commitment to art and indeed to figurative art and since that time I have become a matron to Natalie I have been a cheerleader and I hope and try to be a voice of calm in a world filled with vibrations of art industry and strategies and bottom lines and that Natalie Frank has produced 75 astonishing riveting disturbing powerful drawings some grim of the brothers Grimm is a testament to her talent and for me proof of my instinct about her power as an artist. The tales of the brothers Grimm with drawings by Natalie Frank her book which she will be signing this evening are honest they're bold and fearless as they are fearful she and I have discussed this project as it just stated as she labored and at birthed Natalie lived and breathed this achievement and I want to personally congratulate her for an extraordinary body of work and for creating through her lens the Grimm's terrors and truths and morals we are richer for it and the richer for Natalie. Those are my personal reminiscences just a few that I've taken the time to share and I am very very happy to welcome also Jack Sypes and some preeminent guests who will thrill and chill us with tales from the brothers Grimm. Introducing tonight's panel is Dr. Claire Gilman and she is senior curator at the drawing center where she has organized 11 exhibitions and the current exhibition which is Natalie Frank the brothers Grimm which is open until June 28th and if you haven't seen it I encourage you all to go see it it is extraordinary it is wonderful it's riveting it's beautiful. Gilman taught art history and critical theory at Columbia University the art center for cultural studies and Bard College and at MoMA and the School of Visual Arts SVA. She has written for journals and authored essays in art books as well as museum exhibitions. In 2014 Dr. Gilman was voted one of the 100 most powerful women in art by art knit news. So please join me in welcoming Natalie Frank, Dr. Claire Gilman and Jack Sypes. Thank you. So thank you Elizabeth for that wonderful introduction and for making this evening possible. Thanks also to Arnold Lehman and to everyone at the Sackler Center and the Brooklyn Museum for hosting this event. I am thrilled to be here today on the occasion of the exhibition Natalie Frank the brothers Grimm at the drawing center through June 28th and the accompanying book tales of the brothers Grimm drawings by Natalie Frank with contributions by myself Jack Zeitz, Julie Tamor and Linda Nocklin which Natalie will be signing at the end of this evening. It has been an honor to work with the incredibly talented Natalie Frank on this exhibition and I am equally thrilled that her work will be celebrated by such illustrious speakers tonight. The evening will be divided into two parts. First joining Natalie and I in conversation is Jack Zeitz, Professor Emeritus of German and Comparative Literature at the University of Minnesota who also deserves the title of Mr. Grimm and that he was the first person to translate the original unsanitized tales into English and in addition to translations Jack has published numerous books about the fairytale form and received countless accolades including a John Simon Guggenheim Fellowship for his work on the genre. I have the unfortunate task of reporting that Linda Nocklin longtime university professor and a pioneering voice in feminist art history is not feeling well and therefore is unable to be with us tonight. However I am confident that Natalie and Jack will have more than enough to say to each other and to share with us all this evening. Following the panel we have the distinct pleasure of hearing three tales from three incredible readers. First legendary choreographer MacArthur Genius and Tony Award winner Bill T. Jones will read Lettuce Donke. Next longtime staff writer for the New Yorker magazine and prize-winning essayist Ariel Levy will read Hansel and Gretel and finally Pulitzer prize-winning author Michael Cunningham whose numerous books include the recently published novel The Snow Queen will read Snow White. So let's begin the conversation. So to start things off I would love it if both of you could speak a bit about your relationship to the fairy tale tradition and sort of how you came to the genre what the form or how the form spoke to you and Jack since you are our fairy tale connoisseur perhaps you could start things off by speaking a bit also about the history of the fairy tale and how the grim tales have changed over the years through the many translations and sort of speak a bit about the brothers and who they were and kind of how they themselves even kind of shaped the fairy tale genre through their many different collections. So I'll begin backwards with your question about who the grims were why they're so important and then say a few words about how I came to become involved with them as their third or fourth brother. When the brothers grim at the beginning of the 19th century decided that they were going to collect folk songs and folk tales they up until that point they had throughout Europe been somewhat deplored or ignored by the reading public the educated reading public and there was no such thing as folklore at the universities and therefore they were pioneers because they took the let us say the culture of the common people very seriously and did not want to allow the oral tales to disappear to vanish and therefore their goal was to preserve the vital extremely interesting fascinating popular culture and they collected not only fairy tales but folk tales animal tales trickster tales you name it anecdotes proverbs and that began about 1806 and up until that time there had been some other collections but not collections of tales that came from the common people and the grims did not only collect tales from the common people but also from the lower middle class middle class as well sometimes also they took tales from literature from from published books so it was a melange and in 1812 and 1815 they published the first two volumes of their collection and believe it or not these books did not do well they didn't do well they were about I think about 150 tales compared to the final edition of the seventh edition there were seven editions the the final edition had 210 tales but in this first edition they were there were footnotes there were academic prefaces there were no illustrations and they intended the tales for adults for and for scholars they did not intend to publish these tales for children they were about children about the relationships between children and adults and so on and they're very meaningful and most of them did not have any fairies in them there were really basic tales about daily living and they were scolded by their friends and said look if you want your your tales or these tales to be known you've got to really stylize them change them and they resisted that they published the second edition in 1819 and it was more or less the same although they separated the footnotes that were published in 1822 and then in 1823 they received a book sent by Edgar Taylor a British lawyer who translated the tales into English and he added also 20 illustrations by George Cookshank the famous caricaturist of the times in Europe and the book took off in England and the Grims when they received this book they said you know we really should think about having illustrations maybe we should change the tales a little not make them all that gruesome and so that was a turning point because they then went on to do two separate editions one large edition that would remain somewhat scholarly and then 10 editions of a 50 tales that are basically let us say more proper for the Prudish taste of the bourgeoisie so that's a somewhat of a background but what their books or the first edition second edition then all the other editions invigorated educated gentleman who didn't go to the university but who were or had attended the university but since there was no folklore they ignited throughout Europe all the way to Russia and of course in the UK and Ireland they inspired the collecting of tales folk tales from the people is always at the beginning of their collections these are tales collected from the mouths of the people and so it's for the for that reason we owe a great debt to the brothers Grim because they were the first ones who really pioneered methods and ways and ideas how to preserve this culture that may have been just that may have disappeared now very briefly about myself and my attachment my as one of the brothers the I studied at Columbia University and I in the 19 early 1960s and I wrote a book called the great refusal that really focused on German romantic fairy tales and American fairy tales and was inspired by Herbert Marcusa the German critical philosophy and eventually for various reasons I was sent to Siberia which is in Wisconsin at that time I'm now in Minnesota which is worse but I love it I must say and when I went to Milwaukee in let's see it was 1970 1972 I began teaching a lot of courses on German romanticism and fairy tales and my my sort of interest was really more so in ETA Hoffman and other German romantics but I then took a serious interest also in the brothers Grim and I began writing a great deal about fairy tales popular culture and critical theory and at one point and I also became a storyteller for in elementary school with children and developed my own methods and still still do this and a lot of the tales were by the brothers Grim well in 1976 Bruno Bettelheim wrote a book called The Uses of Enchantment which pissed me off and it was so bad that I decided that I was going to write a book which I did and came out in 1979 called Breaking the Magic Spell and it didn't focus on just Bettelheim but it focused politically right and also from a feminist point of view on what these tales were really about and so that's my background great well I would love to talk about that that aspect of the kind of feminist reception of the tales and the political reception of the tales in a bit but it was it was through Jack's translations right that you first read the stories yes I talked about you were coming to the stories I was in an artist friend Polarigo studio and she has worked a great deal with fairy tales and she suggested I look at the Grims that no fine artist had really illustrated them in mass and so I sort of came home and I think I went on Amazon and Jack's book was the first that came up on Amazon and his name was everywhere attached to the Grims and so I ordered his Grims that had many of the unsanitized tales which I was not familiar with I was actually shocked by to read and really were really fit with my interests in or sort of spoke to me because of my interests in women and narrative and this sort of underlying sexuality and violence in everyday life I thought there were some of the most poetic haunting but also joyful and funny stories I had ever read and so started to work sort of read through the book as I would a novel and really two or three years ago started to very seriously go through the book and draw them and then we began having a conversation about the show and I started more earnestly to draw them and then I began to read I think many of Jack's books and some of the other Grims scholars and really fell in love again with the stories but I think understanding more of their social and historical political context so yeah I mean there's been a lot of debate about the tales sort of as as feminist documents or sort of or not not feminist documents I know there's some disagreement here between someone like Marina Warner who kind of writes about them from the feminist perspective and then you I guess are approaching them more from this sort of social political context of the tales and Natalie I believe does see them as kind of feminist images in some sense or you can correct me if I'm wrong some some yes some no but I my drawings were definitely interpretations from a feminist perspective right as I am a feminist yes and so there was something in them that kind of were really inabauggles knew to approach them in that way so um maybe I guess that's a question sort of your art how do we do we see them as feminist documents oh no no no no no no no marina mourners no no no marina marina now I actually agree on many things and I think that we also would agree that these tales and all the tales that were collected in the the 19th century, and actually to a certain extent up through the 20th century, reflect patriarchal values and reinforce notions about male domination and male power and so on. And so there's no quarrel between, at least Marina, I quarrel with other people, but not with Marina. And I think that what is fascinating is that, and here I'm influenced by Pierre Bourdieu and his notion of the fields of cultural production, is that no matter what becomes sort of the standard sort of prototype of a particular genre, there are always subversive genres, or let us say subversive elements within the genre, so that in the, let's say you get tales about Cinderella and Happy Ends and so on in the Grimm's collection, but you also have like the clever farmer's daughter in which a farmer's daughter makes a fool out of the king. So one has to be very careful about generalizing, but there's no doubt that even up through today, basically the fairy tale genre has been dominated by male writers, male artists and so on, and the Disney productions of fairy tale films are horrible, and when you think about them, I mean they're totally sexist, up through the present terrible Cinderella film that Kenneth Branagh should hang his head in chain in producing a film like that. So one has to be very, very careful about examining who's doing, who's producing what and how. Yeah, I mean, yeah. And what do you make of these tales beginning as oral tales that were told by women, told and collected by women and told to the brothers, and the representations that they might see in these characters of themselves? You know, women in those days and to a certain extent even today contribute to the patriarchy. So it's just because a woman telling a tale doesn't necessarily go into tell a tale in which women play a much more assertive role or critique of the type of norms that are common in a particular society. But for the most part, but there are going back to the 1690s in Paris, there were a group of women who were just absolutely marvelous, who are not known today for good reasons or bad reasons, and so there are examples also in Germany in the 19th century of women gathering together in salons, working together, producing their own fairy tales, or their fairy tales for instance, Little Red Riding Hood stems from weaving and sewing societies, and the original tale of Little Red Riding Hood is not a tale of rape and violation in which a young girl is sort of blamed for that violation, but it's a tale about a werewolf who meets a young girl who outsmarts the werewolf. And this was told by peasant women. Yeah, I mean, I think what was interesting for me in reading your book and sort of what I took from it is, and sort of where the Disney versions in a way go wrong is that even though the fairy tales are not, they're not sort of working against the grain in a way, they're not, they're not sort of criticizing patriarchal culture, but what they are doing is kind of working through real issues, real sort of concerns and real traumas that women were facing in that time. So in that sense, I think that's how I sort of see the feminist aspect of them, so that the wicked stepmother was a real figure because these women would be married off, young too, and be in their husband's home, and they'd have this woman who was now kind of in control of them, who was not receptive to them, and the Disney versions, I think they take out all of the more distressing aspects of the tale to make them these kind of sunny, happy pictures. Right. And aspirational, like you were saying, about what roles that women might want to see themselves in, or I just had never come across a fairy tale like the Clever Farmer's Daughter that was all about a woman outsmarting a man and making him sort of into a fool, and there are quite a few of those, or women conversely like the stubborn child of the mother who buries the son and the arm keeps popping out, and she waxes it with a stick, which is not exactly what we think of as paternal, but a nice redefinition. But you also like the nasty spinners, which is a tale about a young woman rebelling with the help of three elderly women against the stupid king who wants to exploit her. So I mean, there are tons of wonderful tales that were told by the people that have an early, let us say, feminist tendency, I would say. And I think from your, looking at your drawings, Natalie, and again, you know, correct me if I'm wrong, but I think maybe what you are sort of picking up on in the stories and then taking to another level is the kind of, first of all, the sort of multiple roles that women... That were open to women and women in the stories, and the kind of transitions and transformations that women undergo in the stories, which you, I think, kind of take in a kind of liberatory way, or sort of interpreted in a liberatory way, I don't know whether it's always liberating in the stories, but it is there in the stories. In the power to shape shift and to, I mean, as you read about that, this was a time when industry could actually take you somewhere and could transform your social standing and your life, that these physical transformations really interestingly mirrored personal, spiritual, social, economic transformations. And that, to my mind, I hadn't read anything of that time that kind of subversively had that integrated into it. I mean, so another kind of interesting part of the fairy tale tradition is the fact that that the kind of illustrations sort of came so late to the genre, but yet they seem so sort of suited for illustration, and it's also interesting that so few artists, contemporary artists, have tackled them as a subject of illustration or of image making, I guess. And so I'm wondering if either of you have opinions sort of about why that is, about sort of, is there something, is it that the stories are just so powerful on their own that kind of the idea of approaching them visually is daunting, or is something, and I'm also curious about sort of when one does, you know, how do images sort of change the tales in a way? You know, does the language sort of suit image making, or is it kind of counter? I don't know. Yeah. I'm multiple questions. I was really interested to learn that Ludwig also, one of the third brother, illustrated the... One of my brothers. One of your other brothers, one of the triplets, quadruplets, illustrated the tales, because for me, the minute I read them, visual images came to mind, and when I read writings of other visual artists who have illustrated the tales, everyone says the same thing, that there was something very special about these stories and the way they are written, which seem sort of deceptively simple but are so complex and have so much symbology and imagery and history in them, sort of implicitly, that for me they really evoked full images. And so when I was making the drawings, they were very immediate. The image came to mind. I drew it very, very quickly and sort of moved on. And when I went through reading the book to decide how many drawings would suit each story and what scenes needed to be illustrated or pictured, it seemed very clear. And I'm also just fascinated that the artists, you know, Marie Sendak, David Hawkeny, Kiki Smith, Tommy Unger, everyone's drawings do approach the subject matter in vastly different ways. Yes, yeah, yeah. Well, first of all, I want to say that when Natalie sent me her some early images at the beginning of her project, and my wife contestified to this, I fell off my chair. I mean, it was just really stunning and unique. So did I. I went to the studio. The development of illustration in the 19th century is fascinating. I mean, Crookshake's illustrations of 1823 are really very interesting because he turns the tales into sort of comic, or comic tales, and it makes light of some of the very serious issues. And also a lot of the books were not of tales, were not illustrated because of the course at that time, and the technology was not such that they could easily add illustrations. By the end, however, of the golden age in the 19th century, there are great illustrators who did do very commendable, they would generally do maybe 10 or 20 illustrations like Arthur Rackham, Walter Crane, Charles Falkard, and so on, and up through the early part of the 20th century. But they felt their task, and most illustrators, up until, I would say the 1940s or 50s, felt that their task was simply to comment on the, not comment on the text, but to embroider the text, okay. That began changing again with Tommy Unger and some other male illustrators. But the great shift came after the publication of Anne Sexton's poems based on the 25 Grimm's tales and Angela Carter's Bloody Chamber and other tales, women artists began focusing on the tales because of the critique and the first major wave of feminism after the Second World War. And so you do get, today, some amazing paintings, photographs by Kiki Smith or Rodrigo, of course. And then in New Zealand, there's Sharon Singh, I've written fairly extensively about women who have really subverted the tradition, not just the tales, which not, of course, does in amazing ways, but they subvert the tales because of the fact that they use the mediums in which they're working in original ways, highly original ways, like Sharon Singer and then I'll stop and get to move on, but Sharon Singer has an amazing little red writing hood who has dreadlocks and is sitting on top of a wolf and writing the wolf and has roller skates on at the same time. I mean, it's just amazing what I think women artists are doing and very few male artists are taking that approach the way women are. Interesting. Angela Carter was a huge discovery and influence. Jack suggested I read that book, which I think everyone should read the Bloody Chamber. It's gorgeous. And now we have your book as an addition to the literature in a way. So because it's interesting that not only have you, you're not only making drawings, which we are showing in an exhibition, but you also have produced a book and in a way it's an artist book, but it's also another book of Grimm's fairytales. Thanks to Jack. So maybe you want to speak a bit about the book and why you felt it was important to make a book and sort of how you see it as fitting in with the fairy tale tradition and were there ways in which you were trying to kind of stay within that tradition and ways in which you were trying to make it update that tradition? Absolutely. I looked at a lot of old editions and luckily Columbia has some great ones in the rare book room. And it was hard after looking, especially at Dore and Crane and Coyke Schenck, to even approach doing this, but I was really adamant from the beginning that I wanted them to be feminist interpretations and really be intensely colored and colorful and also a bit macabre. And what's so special about the Grimm's and I think in reading them in aggregate is that there is such a world that's evoked by the stories. And I thought that sort of just showing these color images wasn't enough and that creating all the marginalia with title pages and borders and end papers and illustrations throughout would really create another world. And it's like a separate world. The book is one world, the kind of exhibition is a different world. And they live in different worlds and because of the literary tradition, it seemed like an incredible privilege and opportunity to reframe them in a contemporary way. And I found worked with a wonderful designer in Canada, Marion Banshees. And our collaboration was one of the highlights of making the book. And so we would work in real time and I would draw images and she would place them and we would go through and decide how we wanted to treat the text, the essays, because we do have an introduction by Jack and we're using his translations that break up the color images and the marginalia, but then we have a section in the back with essays by Linda Nochlin, Claire, and then a conversation with Julie Tamor. And it was important for me to also frame the tales primarily from the vantage point of women who were working with folklore and mythology. Julie working in 3D versus my 2D. Claire is someone who's, you know, writing on art history and placing them in context and then Linda is the great sort of feminist art historian to look at the tales. So together we wanted to make a book that was not just one thing, but evoked an entire world that could be a Grimm's edition, an art book, and also have this kind of interdisciplinary element to it. So now do you see this, I'm just sort of curious kind of going forward because you were primarily a painter, or I'm almost exclusively a painter, I guess, before doing these Grimm's drawings. So do you see this as a kind of isolated project that now we've done this Grimm's book and these drawings and you're moving on, you're back to painting or, you know, do you see kind of this opening up doors to other kinds of. Yes, I have become obsessed with drawing fairy tales. Especially, but making books and would love to collaborate with Jack. Would love to collaborate with the contemporary feminist writer and make many, many more books and maybe just follow in Dore's footsteps and try my hand at Don Quixote or The Inferno or Ovid, the Bible. Very exciting. I just want to say one thing. I think that it's very, there's no doubt that you are a feminist. That's quite clear, but you do more than just look at these tales and you have a sensual energy that really opens up these tales so that we can grasp that there is a lot of depth in these tales that we really have to discuss like doing your all for drawings or this tale about incest is an extremely important, I wouldn't say topic, but issue that we have to really address through images because your, I think, images are retellings of these tales that challenge us to take like child abandonment in Hansel and Gretel or all of these tales really deal with fundamental issues that we have even today and they're relevant and I think that not only to your credit you've just really demanded from anybody who looks at your drawings that they start asking questions about themselves and the world. Well, I cannot imagine a better way to end the discussion portion of the evening. That was such a beautiful description of Natalie's work and everything that she achieved in those drawings. So I think in the interest of time, we're going to sort of assess the time situation at the end to see if there's time for questions. But we're going to transition now to the reading. So, Bill, if you would come up and give us a lot of stonking. So, would you make this any higher? I guess not, huh? OK, I'm going to get real comfortable here then, right? But let us stonky. Once upon a time, there was a young huntsman who went out into the forest to shoot some game. He was merry and lighthearted and whistled on a leaf as he marched along. Then he encountered an ugly old hag who said, Good day, my dear huntsman. You're certainly cheerful and content, but I'm suffering from hunger and thirst. Would you give me some alms? The huntsman felt sorry for the poor woman, so he reached into his pocket and gave her whatever he could afford. As he was about to continue on his way, the old woman held him back and said, Listen to what I have to say, my dear huntsman, since you've been so kind, I'm going to give you a gift. Just keep going straight ahead and after a while, you'll come to a tree. Nine birds will be sitting on it. They'll have a cloak in their claws and will be fighting over it. Take aim with your gun and shoot into the middle of them. They'll let go of the cloak for sure and one of the birds will also be hit and drop dead at your feet. Take the cloak with you. It's a wishing cloak and if you throw it around your shoulders, you need only wish yourself somewhere and you'll be there in a split second. Take the heart out of the dead bird and swallow it whole. Then each and every morning, when you get up, you will find a gold coin underneath your pillow. The huntsman thanked the wise woman and thought to himself, Those are a great thing she's promised me. If only they would come true. When he had gone about a hundred paces, he heard a great deal of screaming and squawking in the branches above him and he looked up and saw a bunch of birds tearing at a piece of cloth with their beaks and claws. They screeched, tugged, and scuffled as if each wanted it for itself alone. Well said the huntsman, this is extraordinary. Everything's happening just as the old hag said it would. He took the gun from his shoulder, aimed and fired right into the middle of the bird so that their feathers fluttered about. Immediately the birds with loud cries took flight but one fell to the ground dead along with the cloak. The huntsman then did what the old woman had told him to do. He cut the bird open, found the heart, swallowed it, and took the cloak home with him. The next morning when he woke up, he remembered the woman's promise and wanted to see if it had actually come to pass. As he lifted his pillow in the air, the gold coin glimmered before his eyes. The following day he found another one and so forth. Each time he got up, he collected a heap of gold but eventually began thinking, What's the use of all my gold if I stay at home? It's time I set out and see the world. He took leave of his parents, swung his knapsack and gun over his shoulders, and went out into the world. One day he happened to pass through a dense forest and when he reached the end of it, a stately castle stood on the plane, stood on the plane before him. In one of its windows, an old woman and a marvelously beautiful maiden were standing and looking down at him. The old woman, however, was a witch and said to the maiden, someone's coming from the forest through the wonderful treasure in his body. We've got to get it out of him, my darling daughter, for it's really much more suited for us. You see, he's got a bird's heart in him and every morning there's a gold coin under his pillow. She told the maiden the whole story about the huntsman and what role she was to play. Finally, she threatened her and with fury in her eyes said, if you don't obey me, you'll regret it. As the huntsman came closer, he spied the maiden and said to himself, I've been wandering around for so long that it's time to take a rest. I'll stop at this beautiful castle for I've got plenty of money to pay. But his real reason was that he had caught sight of the beautiful maiden. He went into the castle and was received in a hospitable way and entertained courteously. It was not long before he fell in love with the witch's daughter. He thought of nothing else but her, had eyes only for her and gladly did whatever she demanded. At that point, the old woman said to her, now we've got to get the bird's heart. He won't even notice it's missing. She prepared a potion and when it was ready, she poured it into a cup and gave it to the maiden who had to hand it to the huntsman. Now, my dearest, she said, drink to my health. So he took the cup and after he had swallowed the drink, he vomited up the bird's heart. The maiden had carried it off secretly and then swallowed it. The maiden had to carry it off secretly and then swallowed it herself for that was what the old woman wanted. From then on, the huntsman no longer found gold under his pillow, rather it lay under the maiden's pillow and the old woman fetched it from there every morning. However, he was so much in love with the maiden and so infatuated that he had no other thought in his head than to spend time with her. Now the old witch said, we've got the bird's heart but we must also take the wishing cloak from him. Why not let him keep that, answered the maiden. After all, he's already lost his wealth. The old woman became angry and said, such a cloak is a wonderful thing. You won't find many like it in the world. I must have it and I will have it. She gave the maiden instructions and told her that if she did not obey them, things would go badly for her. So the maiden did what the old woman told her to do. She stood at the window and gazed into the wide blue sky as if she were very sad. Why are you standing there so sadly, asked the huntsman. Ah, my darling, she replied, the garnet mountain lies over there where precious jewels grow. Whenever I think about them, I get such a great longing for them that I become sad but who can fetch them? Only the birds with their wings can fly there, a human being, never. If that's all that's bothering you, said the huntsman, I'll soon ease your woes. Upon saying this, he spread his cloak over her and wished to be on top of the garnet mountain. Within a split second, they were both sitting on top of it. The elegant jewels glimmered from all sides and it was a joy just to look at them. Together they selected the most precious of the jewels. However, the old woman had used her witchcraft to make the huntsman's eyelids heavy and he said to the maiden, oh, let's sit down and rest a bit. I am so tired that I can't stand in my feet anymore. They sat down and he laid his head in her lap and went to sleep. When he was sound asleep, she took the cloak from his shoulders and hung it around herself. She gathered the garnets and jewels together and wished herself back home. After the huntsman had finished sleeping at awoke, he saw that his beloved had deceived him and had left him alone on top of the wild mountain. Oh, he said, the world is full of treachery. He sat there, overcome with sorrow and pain and did not know what to do. The mountain, however, belonged to the wild and monstrous giants who dwelt there and who were always up to mischief. He had not been sitting there long before three of them came strolling toward him. He laid down as if he had fallen into a deep sleep. As the giants came by, the first one poked him in the foot and said, who's this earthworm lying here and contemplating his navel? Trample him to death, said the second. But the third one said contemptuously, he's not worth the trouble. Let him live, he can't survive here and if he climbs higher to the peak, the clouds will snatch him and carry him away. As they moved on, they continued talking, but the huntsman had heard their words and when they were out of sight, he got up and climbed to the peak. He sat there a while until a cloud drifted by, grabbed him and carried him away. For a long time it floated about in the sky then it began sinking and settled down on a large vegetable garden surrounded by walls while the huntsman landed softly between the cabbages and vegetables. He looked around him and said, if I only had something to eat, I am so hungry that it would be hard to go anywhere from here and there's nothing but vegetables, no apples or pears or any kind of fruit. Finally, he thought, if need be, I can eat some of the lettuce. It doesn't taste very good, but it will refresh me. So he picked out a fine head of lettuce and ate some of the leaves. No sooner had he taken a few bites than he had a strange sensation and felt completely changed. He sprouted four legs, a thick neck and two long ears and to his horror he saw that he had been transformed into a donkey. Nevertheless, since he still felt very hungry and the juicy lettuce appealed to his present nature, he kept eating it with great zest. Eventually he came to another kind of lettuce and after he had swallowed a few leaves, he felt a new kind of sensation and returned to his human form. Now the huntsman lay down and slept off his fatigue. When he awoke the next morning, he broke off ahead of the bad lettuce and one of the good and thought, this ought to help me regain what belongs to me and I'll be able to punish the treacherous women as well. He put the lettuce in his knapsack, climbed over the mountain and set out to find the castle of his beloved. When he had wandered about for several days, he was fortunate enough to find it again. Then he colored his face brown so that his own mother would not have recognized him, went into the castle and asked for lodgings. I'm so tired, he said, that I can't go any further. Countryman, who are you and what's your business as the witch? I'm a royal messenger and was sent out to search for the most delicious lettuce under the sun. I was lucky enough to have found it and I'm carrying it with me but the heat of the sun has been so strong that tender leaves are beginning to wilt and I don't know whether I'll be able to carry it any farther then. When the old woman heard of the delicious lettuce, she had a great yearning for it and said, my dear countrymen, let me taste the wonderful lettuce. Why not, he answered. I brought two heads with me and I'll give you one. He opened the sack and handed her the bad one, which did not suspect anything and her mouth watered so much for the new meal that she herself went into the kitchen to prepare it. When the lettuce was ready, she could not wait until it was on the table. She immediately took a few leaves and put them in her mouth. No sooner had she swallowed them that she lost her human form and ran around in the courtyard as a donkey. When the servant girl came into the kitchen, saw the lettuce already and wanted to serve it but on the way, she succumbed to her old habit of trying things and ate a couple of leaves. The magic power took effect immediately and she too was changed into a donkey. She ran outside to the old woman in the bowl with the lettuce fell to the ground. Meanwhile, the messenger sat with the beautiful maiden and when nobody came with the lettuce and her longing for it also grew greater, she said, I don't know what's keeping the lettuce. The huntsman thought, the lettuce has probably worked and so he said, I'll go to the kitchen and see what's happening. When he got there, he saw two donkeys running around the courtyard and the lettuce on the ground, very good, he said. The two have gotten their due and he picked up the remaining leaves, put them into the bowl and brought them to the maiden. I brought you the delicious food myself so that you won't have to wait any longer, he said. Then she ate some of the lettuce and was instantly robbed of her human form like the others. She ran out to the courtyard as a donkey. Next, the huntsman washed his face so that the women as donkeys could recognize him and he went down to the courtyard and said, now you're going to get what you deserve for your treachery. He tied all three to a rope and drove them ahead until they came to a mill where he knocked on the window. The miller stuck his head out and asked what he wanted. I've got three bad animals and I don't want to keep them anymore, he responded. If you take them, feed them and treat them as I tell you to, then I'll pay you whatever you want. Why not, said the miller. How do you want me to treat them? The huntsman told the miller to give the old donkey actually the witch. Three beatings a day and one feeding. The younger, actually the servant, one beating a day and three feedings and the youngest, actually the maiden, no beatings and three feedings. He could not bring himself to have the maiden beaten. He then went back to the castle where he found everything he needed. After a few days, the miller came and said he had to report the death of the old donkey that was supposed to receive three beatings and one feeding a day. The other two he continued are not dead yet, to be sure, but they are so sad that they'll be dead before long. Then the huntsman took pity on them, forgot his anger and told the miller to drive them back to the castle. When they arrived, he gave them some of the good lettuce to eat so that they became human beings again. Their beautiful maiden fell upon her knees in front of him and said, oh, my dearest, forgive me for the evil I've done you. My mother forced me to do it. Everything happened against my will for I love you with all my heart. Your wishing coloque is hanging in a closet and I'll drink something to make me throw up the bird's heart. But he had a change of heart and said, just keep it. It doesn't make any difference now because I want to take you for my faithful wife. Then the wedding was held and they lived happily together until they died. It's a way to start us off in a feminist tale. Ariel Levy is going to read Hansel and Gradle. That was so great and so weird. And I chose this one because I'm into witches and my mom's really into witches. She used to dress up as a witch every Halloween and she would read me this story and there's probably gonna be some of her intonations coming out my mouth. And it's not as weird as the lettuce donkey, but it's weird and also horrible. But all I took from it as a kid was, I just thought it was the greatest thing in the world that you could be a witch living in a house made entirely of baked goods. So this is Hansel and Gradle. A poor woodcutter lived with his wife and his two children on the edge of a large forest. The boy was called Hansel and the girl, Gradle. The woodcutter did not have much food around the house and when a great famine devastated the entire country, he could no longer provide enough for his family's daily meals. One night as he was lying in bed and thinking about his worries, he began tossing and turning. Then he sighed and said to his wife, what's to become of us? How can we feed our poor children when we don't have enough for ourselves? I'll tell you what, answered his wife. Early tomorrow morning, we'll take the children out into the forest where it's most dense. We'll build a fire and give them each a piece of bread. Then we'll go about our work and leave them alone. They won't find their way back home and we'll be rid of them. No wife, the man said, I won't do this. I don't have the heart to leave my children in the forest. The wild beast would soon come and tear them apart. Oh, you fool, she said. Then all four of us will have to starve to death. You'd better start planning the boards for our coffins. She continued to harp on this until he finally agreed to do what she suggested. But still, I feel sorry for the poor children, he said. The two children had not been able to fall asleep that night. Either their hunger kept them awake and when they heard what their stepmother said to their father, Gretel wept bitter tears and said to Hansel, now it's all over for us. Be quiet, Gretel, Hansel said. Don't get upset. We'll soon find a way to help us. When their parents had fallen asleep, Hansel put on his little jacket, opened the bottom, half of the door and crept outside. The moon was shining very brightly and the white pebbles glittered in front of the house like pure silver coins. Hansel stooped down to the ground and stuffed his pockets with as many pebbles as he could fit in. Then he went back and said to Gretel, don't worry, my dear little sister, just sleep in peace. God will not forsake us. And he laid down again in his bed. At dawn, even before the sun began to rise, the woman came and woke the two children. Get up, you lazy bones, we're going into the forest to fetch some wood. Then she gave each one of them a piece of bread and said, now you have something for your noonday meal, but don't eat it before then because you're not getting anything else. Gretel put the bread under her apron because Hansel had the pebbles in his pocket. Then they all sat out together toward the forest. After they had walked awhile, Hansel stopped and looked back at the house. He did this time and again until his father said, Hansel, what are you looking at there? Why are you dawdling? Pay attention and don't forget how to use your legs. Oh, father said, Hansel, I'm looking at my little white cat that's sitting up on the roof and wants to say goodbye to me. You fool, the mother said, that's not a cat, it's the morning sun shining on the chimney. But Hansel had not been looking at the cat. Instead he had been taking the shiny pebbles from his pocket and constantly dropping them on the ground. When they reached the middle of the forest, the father said, children, I want you to gather some wood. I'm going to make a fire so you won't get cold. Hansel and Gretel gathered together some brushwood and built quite a nice little pile. The brushwood was soon kindled and when the fire was ablaze, the woman said, now children, lie down by the fire and rest yourselves. We're going into the forest to chop wood. When we're finished, we'll come back and get you. Hansel and Gretel sat by the fire and when noon came, they ate their pieces of bread. Since they heard the sounds of the axe, they thought their father was nearby, but it was not the axe. Rather, it was a branch that he had tied to a dead tree and the wind was banging it back and forth. After they had been sitting there for a long time, they became so weary that their eyes closed and they fell sound asleep. By the time they finally awoke, it was already pitch black and Gretel began to cry and said, how are we going to get out of the forest? But Hansel comforted her, saying, just wait a while until the moon has risen and then we'll find a way. And when the full moon had risen, Hansel took his little sister by the hand and followed the pebbles that glittered like newly minted silver coins and showed them the way. They walked the whole night long and arrived back at their father's house at break of day. They knocked at the door and when the woman opened it and saw it was Hansel and Gretel, she said, you wicked children, why did you sleep so long in the forest? We thought you'd never come back again. But the father was delighted because he had been deeply troubled by the way he had abandoned them in the forest. Not long after that, the entire country was once again ravaged by famine and one night the children heard their mother talking to their father in bed. Everything's been eaten up again. We only have half a loaf of bread, but after it's gone, that will be the end of our food. The children must leave. This time we'll take them even farther into the forest so they won't find their way back home again. Otherwise there's no hope for us. All this sat in the father and he thought it'd be much better to share your last bite to eat with your children. But the woman would not listen to anything he said. She just scolded and reproached him. Once you've given a hand, people will take your arm and since he had given in the first time, he also had to yield a second time. However, the children were still awake and had overheard their conversation. When their parents had fallen asleep, Hansel got up intending to go out and gather pebbles as he had done the time before, but the woman had locked the door and Hansel could not get out. Nevertheless, he comforted his little sister and said, don't cry Gretel, just sleep in peace. The dear Lord is bound to help us. Early the next morning, the woman came and got the children out of bed. They each received little pieces of bread, but they were smaller than the last time. On the way into the forest, Hansel crumbled the bread in his pocket and stopped as often as he could to throw the crumbs on the ground. Hansel, why are you always stopping and looking around as the father? Keep going. I'm looking at my little pigeon that's sitting on the roof and wants to say goodbye to me, Hansel answered. Fool, the woman said, that's not your little pigeon. It's the morning sun shining on the chimney. But little by little, Hansel managed to scatter all the breadcrumbs on the path. The woman led the children even deeper into the forest until they came to a spot they had never in their lives seen before. Once again, a large fire was made and the mother said, just keep sitting here, children. If you get tired, you can sleep a little. We're going into the forest to chop wood and in the evening, when we're done, we'll come and get you. When noon came, Gretel shared her bread with Hansel, who had scattered his along the way. Then they fell asleep and evening passed, but no one came for the poor children. Only when it was pitch black did they finally wake up and Hansel comforted his little sister by saying, just wait until the moon has risen, Gretel. Then we'll see the little breadcrumbs that I scattered. They'll show us the way back home. When the moon rose, they set out but could not find the crumbs because the many thousands of birds that fly about in the forest and fields had devoured them. Don't worry, we'll find a way, Hansel said to Gretel, but they could not find it. They walked the entire night and all the next day as well from morning till night, but they did not get out of the forest. They were now also very hungry, for they had nothing to eat except some berries and that they had found growing on the ground. Eventually they became so tired that their legs would no longer carry them and they lay down beneath the tree and fell asleep. It was now the third morning since they had left their father's house. They began walking again and they kept going deeper and deeper into the forest. If help did not arrive soon, they were bound to perish of hunger and exhaustion. At noon they saw a beautiful bird as white as snow sitting on a branch. It sang with such a lovely voice that the children stood still and listened to it. When the bird finished its song, it flapped its wings and flew ahead of them. They followed it until they came to a little house that was made of bread. Moreover, it had cake for a roof and pure sugar for windows. What a blessed meal, said Hansel. Let's have a taste. I want to eat a piece of the roof. Gretel, you can have some of the window since it's sweet. Hansel reached up high and broke off a piece of the roof to see how it tasted and Gretel leaned against the window pane and nibbled on it. Then they heard a shrill voice cry out from inside, nibble, nibble, I hear a mouse. Who's that nibbling at my house? The children answered, the wind, the wind. It's very mild. Blowing like the heavenly child. And they did not bother to stop eating or let themselves be distracted. Since the roof tasted so good, Hansel ripped off a large piece and pulled it down while Gretel pushed out a round piece of the window pane, sat down and ate it with great relish. Suddenly the door opened and a very old woman leaning on a crutch came slinking out of the house. Hansel and Gretel were so tremendously frightened that they dropped what they had in their hands, but the old woman wagged her head and said, well now, dear children, who brought you here? Just come inside and stay with me. Nobody's going to harm you. She took them both by the hand and led them into her house. Then she served them a good meal of milk and pancakes with sugar and apples and nuts. Afterward, she made up two little beds with white sheets where upon Hansel and Gretel laid down in them and thought they were in heaven. The old woman, however, had only pretended to be friendly. She was really a wicked witch on the lookout for children and had built the house made of bread only to lure them to her. As soon as she had any children in her power, she would kill, cook, and eat them. It would be like a feast day for her. Now witches have red eyes and cannot see very far, but they have a keen sense of smell like animals and can detect when human beings are near them. Therefore, when Hansel and Gretel had come into her vicinity, she had laughed wickedly and scoffed. They're mine. They'll never get away from me. Early the next morning before the children were awake, she got up and looked at the two of them sleeping so sweetly with full rosy cheeks. Then she muttered to herself, they'll certainly make for a tasty meal. She seized Hansel with her scrawny hands and carried him into a small pen where she locked him up behind a grilled door. No matter how much he screamed, it did not help. Then she went back to Gretel, shook her until she woke up and yelled, get up, you lazy bones. I want you to fetch some water and cook your brother something nice. He's sitting outside in a pen and we've got to fatten him up. Then when he's fat enough, I'm going to eat him. Gretel began to weep bitter tears, but they were all in vain. She had to do what the wicked witch demanded. So the very best food was cooked for poor Hansel while Gretel got nothing but crab shells. Every morning the old woman went slinking to the little pen and called out, Hansel, stick out your finger so I can feel how fat you are. However, Hansel stuck out a little bone and since the old woman had poor eyesight, she thought the bone was Hansel's finger. She was puzzled that Hansel did not get any fatter and when a month had gone by and Hansel still seemed to be thin, she was overcome by her impatience and decided not to wait any longer. Hey there Gretel, she called to the little girl. Move, get a move on and fetch some water. I don't care whether Hansel's fatter thin, he's going to be slaughtered tomorrow and then I'll cook him. Oh, how the poor little sister wailed as she was carrying the water and how the tears streamed down her cheeks. Dear God, help us, she exclaimed. If only the wild beast had eaten us in the forest, then we could have at least died together. Early the next morning, Gretel had to go out, hang up a kettle full of water and light the fire. First we'll bake, the old woman said. I've already heated the oven and needed the dough. She pushed poor Gretel out to the oven where the flames were leaping from the fire. Crawl inside, said the witch and see if it's properly heated so we can slide the bread in. The witch intended to close the oven door once Gretel had climbed inside for the witch wanted to bake her and eat her too. But Gretel sensed what she had in mind and said, I don't know how to do it, how do I get in? You stupid goose, the old woman said. The opening's large enough, watch, even I can get in. She waddled up to the oven and stuck her head through the oven door. Then Gretel gave her a push that sent her flying inside and shut the iron door and bolted it. Phew, the witch began to howl dreadfully, but Gretel ran away and the godless witch was miserably burned to death. Meanwhile, Gretel ran straight to Hansel, opened the pan and cried out, Hansel, we're saved. The old witch is dead. Then Hansel jumped out of the pan like a bird that hops out of a cage when the door is opened. My how happy they were. They hugged each other, danced around and kissed. Since they no longer had anything to fear, they went into the witch's house and there they found chests filled with pearls and jewels all over the place. They're certainly much better than pebbles, said Hansel, and he put whatever he could fit into his pockets and Gretel said, I'm gonna carry some home too. And she filled her apron full of jewels and pearls. We'd better be on our way now, said Hansel, so we can get out of the witch's forest. When they had walked for a few hours, they reached a large river. We can't get across at Hansel. I don't see a bridge or any way over it. There are no boats either, Gretel responded, but there's a white duck swimming over there. It's bound to help us across if I ask it. Then she cried out, help us, help us, little duck. We're Hansel and Gretel out of luck. We can't get over, try as we may. Please take us across right away. The little duck came swimming up to them and Hansel got on top of its back and told his sister to sit down beside him. No, Gretel answered, that will be too heavy for the little duck. Let it carry us across one at a time. The kind little duck did just that and they were safely across and had walked on for some time, when they had walked across for some time, the forest became more and more familiar to them. And finally they caught sight of their father's house from afar. They began to run at once and soon rushed into the house and threw themselves around their father's neck. The man had not had a single happy hour since he had abandoned his children in the forest. And in the meantime, his wife had died. Gretel opened and shook out her apron so that the pearls and jewels bounced about the room and Hansel added to this by throwing one handful after another from his pocket. Now all their troubles were over and they lived together in utmost joy. My tail is done. See the mouse run. Catch it whoever can and then you can make a great big cap out of its fur. Snow White. Once upon a time in the middle of winter when snowflakes were falling like feathers from the sky, a queen was sitting and sewing at a window with a black ebony frame. And as she was sewing and looking out the window she pricked her finger with the needle and three drops of blood fell in the snow. The red looked so beautiful on the white snow that she thought to herself, if only I had a child as white as snow, as red as blood and as black as the wood of window frame. Soon after, she gave birth to a little daughter who was as white as snow, as red as blood and her hair as black as ebony. Accordingly, the child was called Snow White. And right after she was born, the queen died. When a year had passed, the king married another woman who was beautiful but proud and haughty and she could not tolerate anyone else who might rival her beauty. She had a magic mirror and often she stood in front of it, looked at herself and said, mirror, mirror, on the wall. Who in this realm is the fairest of all? And then the mirror would answer, you, my queen, are the fairest of all. That reply would make her content and for she knew the mirror always told the truth. In the meantime, Snow White grew up and became more and more beautiful. By the time she was seven years old she was as beautiful as the day is clear and more beautiful than the queen herself. One day when the queen asked her mirror, mirror, mirror, on the wall, who in this realm is the fairest of all? The mirror answered, you, my queen, may have a beauty quite rare but Snow White is a thousand times more fair. The queen shuddered and became yellow and green with envy. From that hour on her hate for the girl was so great that her heart throbbed and turned in her breast each time she saw Snow White. Like weeds, the envy and arrogance grew so dense in her heart that she no longer had any peace day or night. Finally, she summoned a huntsman and said, take the child out into the forest. I never want to lay eyes on her again. You're to kill her and bring me back her lungs and liver as proof of your deed. The huntsman obeyed and led Snow White out into the forest but when he drew his hunting knife and was about to stab Snow White's innocent heart she began to weep and said, oh, dear huntsman, spare my life and I'll run into the wild forest and never come home again. Since she was so beautiful, the huntsman took pity on her and said, you're free to go, my poor child. Then he thought, the wild beast will eat you up. Nevertheless, he felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his mind because he did not have to kill her. And just then a young boar came dashing by and the huntsman stabbed it to death. He took out the lungs and liver and brought them to the queen as proof that the child was dead. The cook was ordered to boil them in salt and the wicked woman ate them and thought that she'd eaten Snow White's lungs and liver. Meanwhile, the poor child was all alone in the huge forest. When she looked at all the leaves on the trees she was petrified and did not know what to do. Then she began to run and she ran over sharp stones and through thorn bushes. Wild beasts darted by her at times but they did not harm her. She ran as long as her legs could carry her and it was almost evening when she saw a little cottage and went inside to rest. Everything was tiny in the cottage and indescribably dainty and neat. There was a little table with a white tablecloth and on it were seven little plates. Each plate had a tiny spoon next to it and there were also seven tiny knives and forks and seven tiny cups. In a row against the walls stood seven little beds covered with sheets as white as snow. Since she was so hungry and thirsty Snow White ate some vegetables and bread for each of the little plates. They let a drop of wine to drink out of each of the tiny cups for she did not want to take everything from just one place. Now after that she was tired and began trying out the beds but none of them suited her at first. One was too long, another too short but at last she found that the seventh one was just right. So she stayed in that bed, said her prayers and fell asleep. When it was completely dark outside the owners of the cottage returned. There were seven dwarfs who searched in the mountains for minerals with their picks and shovels. They looked at their seven little candles and when it became light in the house they saw that someone had been there. For none of their things was in the exact same spot in which they had been left. Who's been sitting in my chair? Said the first dwarf. Well who's been eating off my plate? Said the second. Who's been eating my bread? Said the third. And who's been eating my vegetables? Said the fourth. Who's been using my fork? Said the fifth. Who's been cutting with my knife? Said the sixth. Who's been drinking from my cup? Said the seventh. When then the first dwarf looked around and noticed that his bed had been wrinkled and said who's been sleeping in my bed? The others ran over to their beds and quite a bit, someone's been sleeping in my bed too. But when the seventh dwarf looked at his bed he saw Snow White lying there asleep. So he called the others over to him and when they came they were so astounded that they fetched their seven little candles to allow more light to shine on Snow White. Oh my lord. Oh my lord they exclaimed what a beautiful child. They were so delirious with joy that they did not wake her up. Instead they let her sleep in the bed while the seventh dwarf spent an hour in each one of his companion's beds until the night had passed. Ah. In the morning Snow White awoke and when she saw the seventh dwarf she was frightened but they were friendly. It asked, what's your name? My name's Snow White, she replied. What's brought you to our house? The dwarves continued. Well she told them how her stepmother had ordered her to be killed, how the huntsman had spared her life and how she had run all day until she'd eventually discovered their cottage. Then the dwarf said, if you'll keep house for us, cook, make the beds, wash, sew, and net and if you keep everything neat and orderly, you can stay with us and we'll provide you with everything you need. Yes, Snow White with all my heart. So she stayed with them and kept their house in order. In the morning they went to the mountains to search for minerals and gold. In the evening they returned and they didn't have to be ready. During the day Snow White was alone and the good dwarves made sure to caution her. Now beware of your stepmother they said, she'll soon know that you're here. Don't let anybody in. Since the queen believed she had eaten Snow White's liver and lungs, she was totally convinced that she was again the most beautiful woman in the realm and when she went to her mirror, she said mirror, mirror, on the wall, who's fairest of us all. The mirror answered, you my queen, may have a beauty quite rare, but beyond the mountains where the seven dwarfs dwell, Snow White is thriving. In this I must tell, in this realm she's still a thousand times more fair. The queen was horrified, which knew that the mirror never lied, which meant that the huntsman had deceived her and Snow White was still alive. Once more she began plotting ways to kill her. As long as Snow White was the fairest in the realm, the queen's envy would leave her no peace. And finally she thought up a plan. She painted her face and dressed as an old peddler woman so that nobody would recognize her. Then she crossed the seven mountains in this disguise and arrived at the cottage of the seven dwarfs, where she knocked at the door and cried out, pretty wares for sale, pretty wares. Snow White looked out the window and called out, good day, dear woman, what do you have for sale? Nice and pretty things, staleaces in all kinds of colors, she replied and took out a lace woven from silk of many different colors. So I can certainly let this honest woman inside, Snow White thought, she unbolted the door and bought the pretty lace. My goodness child, what a sight you are, said the old woman. Come on, lace you up properly for once. Snow White did not suspect anything. So she stood in front of the old woman and let herself be laced with the new stale lace. However, the old woman laced her so quickly and so tightly that Snow White lost her breath and fell down as if dead. Well, you used to be the fairest in the realm, but not now, the old woman said and rushed off. Not long after, at dinner time, the dwarfs came home and when they saw their dear Snow White lying on the ground, they were horrified. She neither stirred nor moved, she seemed to be dead. They lifted her up and when they saw that she was laced too tightly, they cut the stale lace in two. At once, she began to breathe a little and after a while, she had fully revived. When the dwarfs heard what had happened, they said the old peddler woman was none other than the wicked queen. Beware, don't let anyone in when we're not with you. When the evil woman returned home, she went to the mirror and asked, let me hear her on the wall, who in this realm is the fairest wall? The mirror answered, as usual, you, my queen, might have a beauty quite rare, but be on the ground for the seven doors. Well, Snow White is thriving and this I must tell. Within this realm, she saw 1,000 times more fair. When the queen heard that, she was so upset that all her blood rushed to her heart for she realized that Snow White had recovered. Oh, this time I'm gonna think of something that will destroy her, she said. And by using all the witchcraft at her command, she made a poison comb. Then she again disguised herself as an old woman and crossed the seven mountains to the cottage of the seven dwarfs, where she knocked at the door and cried out, pretty wares for sale, pretty wares. Snow White looked out the window and said, go away, I'm not supposed to allow to let anyone in. But surely you're allowed to look, said the old woman, and she took out the poison comb and held it in the air. The comb pleased the girl so much that she let herself be carried away and opened the door. After they agreed on the price, the old woman said, now I'll give your hair a proper combing for once. Now of course, Snow White did not give this a second thought and let the old woman do as she wished. But no sooner did the comb touch her hair than the poison began to take effect and the maiden fell to the ground and lay there unconscious. Oh, you parrot on a beauty, said the wicked woman, now you're finished. And she went away. Fortunately, it was nearly evening. The time when the seven dwarfs began heading home and when they arrived and saw Snow White lying on the ground as if she were dead, they immediately suspected the stepmother and began looking around. As soon as they found the poison comb, they took it out and Snow White instantly regained consciousness. She told them what had happened and they warned her again to be on her guard and not to open the door for anyone. In the meantime, the queen returned home, went to the mirror and said, mirror, mirror, on the wall, who in this room is the fairest of all? And then the mirror answered as before, you, my queen, my heaven beauty, quite rare but beyond the mountain with the seven dwarfs, well, so what is thriving in this eye, must tell within this realm, she is still a thousand times more fair. When she heard the mirror's words, she trembled and shook with rage, Snow White shall die, she exclaimed, even if it cost me my own life. Then she went into a secret and solitary chamber where no one else ever went. Once inside, she made a deadly, poisonous apple. Now on the outside it looked beautiful, white with red cheeks, anyone who saw it would be enticed but whoever took a bite was bound to die. When the apple was ready, the queen painted her face and dressed herself up as a present woman across the seven mountains to the cottage of seven dwarfs when she knocked at the door, Snow White struck her head out of the window and said, I'm not allowed to let anyone inside. The seven dwarfs have forbidden me. And that's all right with me, answered the present woman. I'll surely get rid of my apples in time but let me give you one as a gift. No, said Snow White, I'm not allowed to take anything. Are you afraid it might be poisoned? Said the old woman. Look, I'll cut the apple in two. You eat the red part and I'll eat the white. Now, however, the apple had been made with such cunning that only the red part was poisoned. Snow White was eager to eat the beautiful apple and when she saw the present woman eating her half, she could no longer resist, stretched out her hand and took the poisoned half. No sooner that she take a bite than she fell the ground dead. The queen stared at her with a cruel look then burst out laughing and had white as snow, red as blood, black as ebony, this time the dwarfs won't be able to bring you back to life. When she got home, she asked the mirror, mirror, mirror on the wall, who in this realm is the fairest of all? Then the mirror finally answered, you, my queen, are now the fairest of all. So her jealous heart was satisfied as much as a jealous heart can be satisfied. When the dwarfs came home that evening, they found Snow White lying on the ground. There was no breath coming from her lips and she was dead. They lifted her up and looked to see if they could find something poisonous. They unlaced her, combed her hair, washed her with water and wine, but it was to no avail. The dear child was dead and remained dead. They laid her on a beer, all seven of them sat down beside it and mourned over her. They wept for three whole days and then they intended to bury her, but she looked so alive and still had such pretty red cheeks that they said, we can't possibly bury her in the dingy ground. Instead, they made a transparent glass coffin so that she could be seen from all sides. Then they put her in it, wrote her name on it in gold letters and added that she was a princess. They carried the coffin to the top of the mountain and from then on, one of them always stayed beside it and guarded it. Some animals came also and wept for Snow White. There was an owl, then a raven, finally a dove, Snow White lay in the coffin for many, many years and did not decay. Instead, she seemed to be sleeping because she was still as white as snow, as red as blood and her hair as black as ebony. Now it happened that a prince came to the forest one day and when he arrived at the Dwarf's cottage, he decided to spend the night. Then he went to the mountain and saw the coffin with beautiful Snow White inside. After he read what was written on the coffin in gold letters, he said to the Dwarfs, let me have that coffin. I'll pay you whatever you want. But the Dwarfs answered, you won't give it up for all the gold in the world. Then give it to me as a gift, he said, for I can't go on living without being able to see Snow White. I'll honor her and cherish her as my dearly beloved. Since he spoke with such fervor, the good dwarf took pity on him and gave him the coffin. The prince ordered his servants to carry the coffin on their shoulders, but they stumbled over some shrubs and the jolt caused the poisoned piece of apple that Snow White had bitten off to be released from her throat. It was not long before she opened her eyes, lifted up the lid of the coffin, sat up and was alive again. Lord, where am I? She exclaimed. The prince rejoiced and said, you're with me. And he told her what had happened. Then he added, I love you more than anything else in the world. Come with me to my father's castle. I want you to be my wife. Snow White felt that he was sincere. So she went with him. And their wedding was celebrated with great pomp and splendor. Now Snow White's stepmother had also been invited to the wedding celebration. And after she had dressed herself in beautiful clothes, she went to the mirror and said, mirror, mirror, on the wall, who in this realm is fairest of all? And the mirror answered, you my queen may have a beauty quite rare, but Snow White is a thousand times more fair. The evil woman uttered a loud curse and became so terribly afraid that she didn't know what to do. At first she did not want to go to the wedding celebration, but she could not calm herself until she saw the young queen. When she entered the hall, she recognized Snow White. The evil queen was so petrified with fright that she could not budge. Iron slippers had already been heated over a fire. And they were brought over to her with tongs. Finally, she had to put on the red hot slippers and dance until she fell down dead. Bravo, exactly. Thank you so much, Bill, Ariel, and Michael, that was just incredible. I have read those stories before via Jack's translations, but hearing you all read them tonight brought out entirely new dimensions for me, so thank you so much. Unfortunately, we are out of time, I think in terms of questions, but Natalie is going to be signing books available to sign books for the next 10 or so minutes. And so if you have questions for her or anyone, any of the panelists, I'm sure we would be happy for you to come up and, yeah, and ask your questions and meet Natalie. And so thank you all for being here. Thank you.