Harold the Worm, some backstory

I do not come from a family of strong oral storytelling per se. My people are southern whites, and a joke told among adult males on the porch over dominoes is usually as close as anyone gets to a folktale.

There is one intriguing exception to this though. My aunt, a schoolteacher, has always had one story that she told after much enthusiastic prompting at every family gathering I can remember: Harold the Worm . It's not that long and for some reason this one little story is all she tells.

Harold the Worm has many features classic to oral storytelling: it's action happens in threes. There is repetitive phrasing. The structure of the action is simple and short, but allows for extended comic riffing.

For the story my aunt would adopt an exaggerated version of herself as an innocent disciplinarian, appalled by Harold's behavior; think of an earnest, bossy little girl. She would chastise him in a childishly high-pitched voice with a wagging finger. Her back would be strait and her tone authoritative.

Harold, meanwhile, had a low-slung voice with suggestion of nasal blockage. He was bashful, sloven, oafish and very, very sorry. His meek posture and submissive tone contrasted sharply with the dynamic and reprehensible goings-on that the audience hears him admit to.

The last time I heard my aunt tell Harold must have been at least 20 years ago at this point. I likely have forgotten many of her small flourishes and personal touches. But, oh well. I guess that's just more room for my imagination. I always enjoyed it when she told it, but I can't claim to really understand it-- then or now. On the surface it makes little sense, especially the punch line. If there was some added dimension that my pre-teen mind could not grasp, I haven't figured it out subsequently. The fact that something so Dadaist could be so entertaining to a child of 7 (and the rest of my extended family), I think is informative in a couple of ways.

First of all, I think there's a lesson in the strong structure of the story. It has rhythm, timing, and forward momentum. I think this serves to make the story sensible even as it's absurdist.

Secondly, children often don't 'get' a lot of art that they consume. Certainly there are facets of Bugs Bunny cartoons that are utterly obscure to the modern audience-- especially kids. Like The Rabbit of Seville? Or the one where Daffy and Bugs meet the abominable snowman and he talks like Lennie from an old adaptation of Of Mice and Men, or how about that Treasure of the Sierra Madres running gag in 8 Ball Bunny. The comic timing and strong movement still entertain even if the references are lost. It seems that as far as kids go you can be entertaining even if you're not understandable.

Death from the babe's hand

As mentioned previously I've been feeling ambivalent about being a children's storyteller. I was thinking for my first performance I'd do my thing in front of some other iSchoolers and there would be ample room for inside jokes, 80's cultural references, and a severed head (these do often grace the Slavic tales I've been looking at).

In a fit of enthusiasm I have joined my classmates in performing at the Greenlake library later in the month. The organizers have thoughtfully invited the general public, and, apparently, a pack of kindergartners. Well nuts! I was vexed before to find an appropriate story for kids, now I am utterly flummoxed. The reality of the situation is starting to hit me. I can see their bored little eyes wandering around the room before my first minute on stage is over. I can see the nervous postures of parents and teachers as I accidentally let slip a "crap!" in the middle of my story. And I just cannot think of what I'm going to tell.

A touch of Classification

Rather than repeat myself, I thought I would point everybody to a couple of pieces I just finished up for The Silverfish, the iSchool e-newsletter. Or as I like to call it, the ieNewsletter. One is about a classification scheme for folktales, and the other is a folk tale I wrote based on the classification.


To Marriage and a Throne in 31 Easy Steps: Vladimir Propp's Cataloging System for Folktale Themes

John Tom Reed: A Folktale

Drinkin' and killin'

I've been looking over my big book of Russian tales this past week, looking for material for the class. It's put me in quite a pickle. It's forced me to consider to what end am I collecting and memorizing stories.

As most folklorists will tell you, oral tales were not originally geared entirely towards children before they were published for mass consumption in the 19th century. This often means there's some really rough stuff in there--drinking, sex and violence, oh so much violence. One story I remember thinking was pretty good was Baldak Borisevich, alas on rereading it for this class, its flaws were more apparent. The hero is introduced while drunk on the tavern floor. In the course of the story he goes on to sleep with and then kills 3 Turkish princesses before slaying the entire court of the sultan and sailing jauntily home. I admit that I do not envision myself being a children's librarian per se, and don't feel bound to a purely child-oriented repertoire. Even so…

The old folk genius can also be delightfully subtle. I one story in which a fox is attempting to lure a rooster to his demise he tempts him with an offer to see his, "assortment of curios." I love that! It's great when children's literature has a few flourishes for the grown-ups, but too many authors working in kids lit load up their work with so many winks to the parents, little folks can't but be confused. I don't want to be too smart for my audience, and I'm just not sure how much of these old tales any kid would "get."

My interest in folk literature and oral storytelling is informed by my study of history and culture and my favorite parts of stories have a voice from another place or time. One that reveals perspectives wholly divorced from my own culture and values--twelve year olds dreaming of their wedding day, warriors relishing their vicious slaughter of unarmed enemies, dark forests hewn down, wives taught to submit and stay out of public life. It's nothing you'd want to pass on to kids, but for me, those are the strange points of view are what make them so fascinating.
So what should be a good way to discriminate between the mountains of folk literature? For kids or not for kids?