What Is Your Favourite Fairy Tale Or Myth ?

what is your favourite fairy tale or myth ?

I've mostly read the short stories of the Grimm Brothers when it comes to fairy tales, so there are too many to choose or differentiate from I think. But for mythology, I really love the story of the bones stolen by Quetzalcoatl, of which here is a short excerpt:

Quetzalcoatl was instrumental in creating people to populate the fifth age. In order to do this, Quetzalcoatl had to sneak into the underworld of Mictlan and trick Mictlantecuhtli and Mictecacihuatl, the Lord and Lady of Death, into giving him the bones they guarded. Mictlantecuhtli would only give the bones to Quetzalcoatl if he could create a sound by blowing into a conch shell with no holes in it. Quetzalcoatl managed to complete this challenge through clever trickery. He had worms drill a hole in the conch, then filled the shell with bees. Quetzalcoatl’s actions successfully tricked Mictlantecuhtli into giving him the bones. But this was not enough for Quetzalcoatl. In an effort to further trick Mictlantecuhtli, Quetzalcoatl told him that he would leave Mictlan without the bones.

Before Quetzalcoatl could escape from Mictlan, however, his deception was discovered by Mictlanecuhtli. A deep pit appeared before Quetzalcoatl, preventing his escape. As he fell into the the pit, Quetzalcoatl was knocked unconscious and mixed up the bones he was carrying. After his eventual escape, Quetzalcoatl combined the now slightly shuffled bones with his blood and corn to create the first humans of the fifth age. The Aztecs used this allegory to explain why people came in all different heights.

(It's interesting how there are parallels in almost every mythology, for example in the Greek myth, Daedalus was lured by a similar puzzle set by King Minos where the contenders would have to thread a delicate conch shell by not doing any damage to it. Daedalus made a small hole at one end and smeared honey over it as well. Then he threaded a string to an ant and pushed it into the shell, and so it clawed through a neat hole without damaging the shell at all) (and also, Prometheus was somewhat of a Quetzalcoatl figure in most myths, aiding humanity with fire as Quetzalcoatl did with life and knowledge)

Frosted glass between rain and life

I run my hand through the same old withered branches,

Drenched in the same old tired rain,

Far away the sunset harbours the lost gold of

Odysseys gone by, and if the wind were to hide

Within it some unremembered glow from the land

Of unknown secrets, the evening will gently

Whisk away the covers of the coquette,

And reveal to us a maiden under the bent willow,

Sweet as the apples from the orchards where our dreams

Were buried. She will beckon for the children

To gather around the fire and tell them the story

Of Zerah and Zulamith, whilst we twist the

Slender branches of the cherry tree into a throne

Fit for the brides of heaven to recline on,

Place at the altar a wreath of dead roses,

And hope that the silent fragrance borne to the shore

Is enough for the sea to give up the child

She drew to her heart in death’s storm.

…

And dare I tag anyone? @pollosky-in-blue perhaps you’ll like the story?

Tags

? i guess poetry whatever that's it everything just everything but really slightly depressing what is slightly depressing? I’ve a thing for incoherent narratives - I suppose it’s almost like a blank paper only this time the paper reads as whatever you want it to to imply something in some phrase and directly contradict it in a later one some thing about how everything you read is in essence a reflection of yourself back to this one I wasn’t particularly going anywhere with it it took me by the hand and insisted on the maiden staying inside my poor shack of a verse I can’t really do anything about it can I now? I’ve always thought cherry trees were the eternal bridesmaids of the forest- with the lace and all that what better deserving than it to serve the bride? sorry and thanks to anyone who bothered to read this

23 notes View Post

lacexleaves

3 years ago

Courtney Peppernell, Pillow Thoughts.

2K notes View Post

lacexleaves

1 year ago

I think the human condition is just finding magic in the compositions of people's mundanity. Knowing they love strawberry perfumes and aloe moisturizers, knowing their favourite ice-cream flavours and the song they can sing in their sleep, gosh knowing their sleep schedules and sharing dreams during breakfast. Knowing the motifs of their grief and the childhood stories behind the swings, the joy of knowing how they completed their day with 15 math problems, one incomplete art assignment, a sandwich for breakfast, a kind smile of a stranger who passed them, and not to mention dropping their phone 5 times. The inherent comfort in knowing the stories inside their kitchen, where the glasses are kept with their favorite mug adorning a Studio Ghilbi character and why they eat noodles in a dented red bowl. Their heat/cold tolerance, their spice tolerance, coffee orders and their favourite snack aisle at the grocery store. The art accounts they follow and their comfort youtube videos and their unhinged coping mechanisms. Oh the mortifying ordeal to be known but oh the gratifying relief in being known. Comfort lies in these compositions of mundanity. I think love hides in mundanity and I think magic is just being human, just being unfiltered like toothpaste stains pajamas, just being in the presence of each other

954 notes View Post

lacexleaves

3 years ago