Week 5: The Parrot Lied, I'm not a Cheater

First of all, I just want to say that I don’t think I get a fair rep in this story. Somehow the stupid parrot is the hero and I’m the villain. “Oh, evil Khojisteh was a whore who was going to cheat on her husband! The parrot stopped her!” No, the parrot was a nosy bastard who acted like my husband could do no wrong. I just wanted someone to talk to apart from a stupid bird.

            I don’t think anyone considered that I was left along for six months before I saw Khwaja from the window. Six months where I had to stay in the house and couldn’t talk to anyone. Don’t get me wrong, the servants were nice, but they had other duties to tend to beside entertaining the mistress of the house. Miemum just left me alone, and I got bored and longed for actual human company, with someone who was my equal. While the stories the parrot told were nice, it didn’t reveal its true intelligence until later, so the stories were like clouds: fluffy with no substance. 

            When I finally saw Khwaja out of the window, I didn’t want to see him out of a desire to cheat on my husband. I did love my husband; I just wanted some company. Khwaja and I managed to exchange some notes without the parrot seeing, and he confessed to me that he was similarly bored: he was in town for business as well, being a prince, and was tired of the dealings that went on throughout the day. He also made it clear he wasn’t interested in more than my companionship (in fact, he didn’t like women at all in any way but that). 

            I also don’t know how the sharuk died. I know the parrot lied and said I killed the sharuk out of anger, but the thing was dead when I walked in the room. The only waving around that happened was when I grabbed it from the cage and shook it, to make sure it was dead. It may not seem rational to you, but it is how I reacted at the time. 

            Then the parrot started telling those stories, to stop me from leaving. I’m still not sure why, exactly. There was no lost love between me and the parrot of course; I think he just planned to use this knowledge in the future. But the stories were a lot more interesting than what he had previously told, and despite myself, I listened every night. I listened until the sun came up. I was waiting for the night when the parrot finally ran out of stories, but before that happened my husband returned. I was glad to see him, for as I said, I did love him. But apparently he didn’t love me. As soon as the stupid parrot opened his mouth and lied his feathers off, my husband believed him. I’m lucky I escaped with my life.

            Yes, I did manage to escape. I’m sure my husband will say he killed me. After all, he wouldn’t want it to be known he was bested by a woman. Although I am lucky that vase was near me. Throwing it at him gave me enough time to run out the house and to Khwaja. Khwaja has agreed to take me back to his home land, and to protect me if need be. We leave the day after tomorrow, as was already scheduled. Soon I shall be free.

            I suppose the real question is, why am I writing this down? Once I’m done, I’ll stuff it into a stone vial, seal it with wax, and hide or bury it somewhere. It may seem pointless. But I want to put my story out somehow. It may never be found, but maybe it will. And people will come to know that I am more than just an unfaithful wife who was tricked by a parrot.

The lying parrot (Source: The New Arab)

Author's note: As I mentioned in a previous post, I found the ending of the story (Tales of a Parrot, by Ziya'al-Din Nakhshabi) to be incredibly unsatisfying. The parrot tells Khojisteh stories night after night to stop her from going to visit a neighboring prince, and once her husband Miemum returns, the parrot immediately tattles, and Miemum has Khojisteh killed. As was common at the time, Khojisteh was treated as a plot device, and the reader wasn't given a chance to actually get to know her. The ending is very abrupt: it was literally just "The parrot tells Miemum everything upon his arrival home, and Miemum immediately kills Khojisteh." This frustrated me so much that I decided to rewrite the story from Khojisteh's point of view. Many of the stories had the similar moral, however vague, of how cheating is bad. I thought Khojisteh deserved a turn to explain her side, and to become a three dimensional character.

Week 4: When Luck Runs Out

I start this story by telling you that I’ve been lucky. I survived to manhood in Ancient Greece, which is no small feat. I was one of the warriors who was picked by Odysseus to travel to Troy. I managed to survive a war that lasted for ten long years. Finally, I’m headed home to Ithaca. I’ll see my son and wife again; I’m sure my son is a man in his own now.

            Odysseus is a little funny, but he is a great leader. After all, he managed to keep us alive for so long. Those of us on his ship anyway. The others were destroyed a while back. It’s a little hard to keep track of the days and weeks, or even months, on the ocean. One day bleeds into the next. Although some of them stand out. Like the monster we encountered, with the one eye. That was terrifying, especially when he ate a couple of the men. But I’m lucky that I survived that too, I guess. 

            We’re finally back on the ocean again. I don’t know exactly why Odysseus made us go to the land of the dead, but after one last talk with Circe we’re headed home again. Odysseus tends to get distracted, but I know he’s as homesick as the rest of us. Circe gave him some advice apparently. There are these things called Sirens up ahead; Odysseus said they sing songs so beautiful you try to reach them on their island and end up dying. But, him being him, he wants to listen to their song. So all of us now have wax in our ears so we can’t hear anything. A couple other guys tied Odysseus to the mast. I can see him from my position at an oar if I turn my head the right way. A few minutes ago he was just standing there, but now he’s struggling, pretty badly too. I’d think he’d hurt himself if I didn’t know how tightly bound he is. 

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It took a while, but Odysseus isn’t struggling anymore. He’d told us that meant we were out of hearing of the sirens’ song. It does feel nice to take the wax out of my ears. You don’t realize how much you rely on your hearing for balance, especially on the ocean. 

I know there’s more dangers ahead. I wish Odysseus would tell us exactly, but he’s been a little vague. At some point there’s a monstrous whirlpool by some cliffs. Or a monster that is a whirlpool. After he was removed from the mast he gave a speech, told us not to worry and to trust him, basically. All of us do, especially since he's led us this far. Now that we're approaching the whirlpool, he's gotten more specific. Apparently we’ve got to stick as close to the cliffs as we can without actually hitting them. It’s the only way to avoid getting sucked into the whirlpool.

That whirlpool is terrifying, now that we’re close. I can feel the blood drain from my face, and saw it reflected in my companion’s face. I catch a glimpse of Odysseus, and had enough time to wonder why he was in his armor on a ship when it happens.

Something tight and sharp grabs me by the shoulder, and suddenly I’m lifted into the air. My screams mingle with those of others, and I manage to see that a horrible, monster has grabbed me with only one of its heads. There are others also caught by the heads, and we’re all screaming desperately as the monster drags us into the cave. I catch a last glimpse, impossibly, of Odysseus, standing there in full armor and looking after us as we die.

I guess my luck finally ran out.

(Source: The Book Palace)

Author’s note: This is the last segment of Kline's translation of The Odyssey that’s available for the readings. Everything up until this part has been backstory: Odysseus is explaining his tale to the Phaeacians, whose shore he washed up on. From there Odysseus eventually makes his way back home. All in all, he was gone for ten years fighting the Trojan War, and it took him another ten years to get back home.

Odysseus’s journey took a long time for various reasons, but one of them is because of the interference of the gods. The aforementioned cyclops is a son of Poseidon. When Odysseus injured the cyclops, Poseidon cursed him and interfered with his trip home. In the end, none of Odysseus’s men made it home with him.

I ended up taking the perspective of one of the sailors for that reason. It’s miraculous that a lot of them survived the war to head home (initially there were twelve ships that left Troy; as mentioned in the story all but Odysseus’s ship were destroyed). I liked the idea of one of them making it so far, and thinking they were so close to home, only to miss out. There’s a lot more in the Odyssey that I didn’t mention, because it would take too long, but the same idea is there.

Week 3: Why You Shouldn't Be Too Fond of Yourself

A day that was much like any other day (sunny with mild weather and temperature) found two wood nymphs relaxing by a pond, catching up on the latest gossip (after all, with the Greek gods there is always much to gossip about). 

            One said to the other, “Did you hear about what happened to Narcissus last year?”

            “No,” was the response, “last I heard anything to do with him was that poor Echo pined for him and faded away, but that over a year ago. I knew her once, a long time ago. Nice girl. Shame she made Hera angry.”

            “Well you’ll find this interesting,” said the first, a fir wood nymph. “So you know how Narcissus basically rejects everyone who likes him? Like, no matter if they’re human, nymph, demigod, whatever, he just turns them away?”

            “Everyone knows that,” replied the other, whose home was an olive tree. “He’s always been so full of himself, thinking he’s all that. He’s just good looking. That’s not uncommon at all in mythology.”

            “Well I guess he made the wrong person mad,” said the fir nymph. “Someone cursed him! Said that he should fall in love with himself and fail to be loved back, and Nemesis heard him.”

            The olive nymph let out a snort. “The same Nemesis who hurts anyone who seems to be too lucky? Sure she wasn’t just eavesdropping? That goddess does love her gossip, just like the rest.”

            “Hey, I’m just telling you what I heard. I’ll stop if you don’t want to hear it.”

            “Alright, I’m sorry, I’ll be quiet. What happened after Nemesis got involved?”

            “Well, she did what was asked of her. The next time Narcissus was out hunting, when he went to drink from a pond he saw his reflection and fell in love with himself, and – “

            “Hold up, you expect me to believe that?” cried the olive wood nymph. “I know Narcissus went back for seconds of looks instead of getting in line when they were handing out intelligence, but surely even he wasn’t that dumb. I mean, animals can recognize that their reflection isn’t real!”

            The fir wood nymph held up her hands defensively. “I swear it’s true! My cousin’s boyfriend’s sister’s aunt saw him! He was sitting by the pond, weeping and reaching down to touch the surface, moaning at the fact that he couldn’t caress his reflection’s face. I swear it actually happened.”

            The olive wood nymph let out a snort. “Whatever you say. Did he ever manage to drag himself away from his own reflection?”

            The fir nymph shook her head. “He just stayed there. Supposedly he knew that it was his reflection, and that he was being stupid, but he still stayed there and just looked at himself. Just wasted away. Someone told me Echo was there, watching it all happen. Not that she could do anything to help him. He finally died after awhile. Kind of a sad way to go, if you ask me. Longing so much for what you can’t have.”

            The olive nymph let out another snort. “This is ancient Greece. People die in tragic ways all the time. Trust me, that’s nothing new.”

            “Yeah, but I didn’t tell you the best part,” said the fir nymph. “His sisters went to bury his body, but they didn’t find it! They found a flower instead next to the pond, white with a yellow center, and it kept bobbing towards the water as if it was trying to look into it. Supposedly Echo stayed with him until the end too.” She sighed. “I know Greek mythology always has tragic endings, but this one really sucks, if you ask me.”

            The olive wood nymph rolled her eyes again, and moved to stretch her arms. As she did, something by the edge of the pond caught her eye. There was a white flower, with a yellow center. As she watched, the flower kept nodding down at the top of the water, as if the wind was pushing it down. But the olive nymph realized that all the other plants were still, that there was no wind. The flower was the only plant in sight that was moving. 

            The olive wood nymph turned back to her companion, and saw that the fir nymph saw the flower as well. With a few muttered words to each other, they jumped up and moved quickly back down the path towards their trees, with only the echo of their words remaining in the clearing with the pond and the flower.

(Source: Ceil on DeviantArt)

Author’s note: This version of the story of Narcissus comes from Ovid's Metamorphoses. Like a lot of Greek myths, this one ends in tragedy. There’s not really a happy ending for anyone involved. Echo, who was cursed by Hera to repeat the last words someone spoke to her, was reported to have faded away after she was rejected by Narcissus, leaving only her voice behind. Narcissus (who was the subject of a prophecy that he would only be in danger if he were to find himself) was so arrogant in rejecting everyone that he attracted the attention of Nemesis (the Greek goddess of revenge who was known to go after those she felt had too high an opinion of themselves).

As should be evidenced, Narcissus is the root of the word ‘narcissism,’ a personality disorder where someone feels they are the best, and everyone who disagrees with them is their enemy. In other words, someone who is so in love with themselves that they disregard all others. Additionally, this story provides an explanation for the existence of two things: the echo, and the Narcissus flower (which really does exist).

I liked the idea of the story being told as gossip. The ending where the nymphs realize they’re by a pond with an oddly moving flower didn’t occur to me until I was almost done. But I like where the story ended up; it makes the tale a little somber, and gives it a ghostly feel that I think is befitting.

Week 2 Story: Mrs. Goat Takes her Seven Kids to the Doctor

The doctor was surprised when he walked into the patient room at the hospital to find Mrs. Goat and her seven children waiting for him.

“Mrs. Goat, it’s good to see you,” said the doctor. “But why are you here on your day off? Are your children ill? They seem healthy enough.” He added this last part as the kids were all bouncing around the room.

“Well Doctor, it’s a bit of a long story,” said Mrs. Goat, “but I’ll tell you what I know happened.

“Yesterday I needed to go to the grocery store to get food for myself and the kids, and since I didn’t want to drag all of them to the store, I told them I trusted them to behave themselves at home and to make sure they didn’t open the doors to any strangers, especially that wolf who’s been sulking around. They promised they’d behave, and so I left.

“Well a couple hours later, I came home to find the place completely ransacked! Furniture overturned, cupboards open, everything! I couldn’t find any of my kids, so I screamed their names while running from room to room. When I called Billy, my youngest,” and here Mrs. Goat pointed at one of her kids, “he popped out from the grandfather clock!

“Billy told me everything that happened while crying. Apparently that wolf did drop by shortly after I left, and my kids told him to go away because his voice was too rough to be mine. Then I guess he came back again shortly after, and his voice was softer, but my kids told him to go away again because they could see his black feet and they know mine are white. Then he came a third time and he had a soft voice and white feet, so I guess my children let him in. When they realized who it was they ran and hid, but he found and ate all of them but Billy.

“After Billy told me everything I took him and left to search for the wolf. Fortunately we found him down the block, napping under a tree. His stomach was wiggling and moving all over, so I sent Billy home to get my first aid kit. With all these kids and my nursing degree it’s easier to patch them up at home than bring them here, so I have all kinds of things in my kit. Well I took my scissors and cut the wolf open after applying some anesthetic to his nose, and out popped all six of my kids! I don’t know how they survived, but they did.

“I also found some chalk in his stomach: I guess he ate that to make his voice sound less harsh. And his feet had flour on them to make them white. I’ll need to have a talk with that miller about why on earth he’d do that for the wolf. Anyway, I had my kids bring me rocks, and I loaded them up in the wolf’s stomach and stitched him back up, neat as can be. Then I took my kids home. Mrs. Beaver mentioned to me this morning that the wolf was found dead in the Badgers' pool, so I’m glad to be rid of him.”

“I say, Mrs. Goat,” the doctor interjected, “this is all quite fantastic. So you want me to check over your kids to be sure they’re alright after being eaten?”

“No doctor, they’re fine from that. I want you to perform some tests to see why they have so little common sense, to mistake a wolf for me!”

About half of Mrs. Goat's kids. (Web source: SynchroMiss)

Author's note: I'm a big fan of the Brothers Grimm. After reading The Wolf and the Seven Young Kids, it occurred to me that the poor goat mother must have been out of her mind with dealing with seven kids, especially ones who had so little common sense. I gave her a nursing degree to explain why she was so skillful at cutting open and sewing up a wolf, and hinted that she worked at the hospital with the doctor's opening dialogue. While it's common for characters in fairy tales to display little common sense, I wanted to imply that another character recognizes in the story that this isn't right.

Bibliography

"The Wolf and the Seven Young Kids," from The Grimm Brother's Children's and Household Tales, translated by D. L. Ashliman. Web source.