The Mythology of Grimm

GET INSIDE GRIMM.
 
NBC’s hit television series Grimm pits modern detective Nick Burkhardt of the Portland Police against a cast of terrifying villains—lifted directly from the pages of classic fairytales. In the world of the show, the classic stories are actually a document of real events, and Nick himself is descended from a long line of guardians, or Grimms, charged with defending humanity from the mythological creatures of the world.
 
From The Big Bad Wolf to Sleeping Beauty, The Mythology of Grimm explores the history and folkloric traditions that come into play during Nick’s incredible battles and investigations—tapping into elements of mythology that have captured our imaginations for centuries.Nathan Robert Brown is an author, pop culture mythologist, and technical writer from Texas, currently residing in Florida. He received the 2009 Harry Brown Award for The Rape of Lilith. Nathan has done extensive research in world mythology, folklore, urban legends, ancient civilizations, and world religions, and is an expert on trinities universal themes in myth, religion, mysticism, and pop culture. He is the author of many books, including The Complete Idiot's Guide to World Mythology, World Religions at Your Fingertips, The Mythology of Supernatural, and The Mythology of Grimm. Nathan is also a public speaker and pro-bono demonology consultant

 

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

INTRODUCTION

Once upon a time, there was a man who loved writing and mythology . . . and fandoms . . . and Grimm. So when this man was given the opportunity to write The Mythology of Grimm, he saw it as a win-win situation. He also had no idea what he’d gotten himself into or how this project would completely take over his life.

In case you haven’t figured it out yet . . . I am that man.

I’d like to start off by stating that this project has occupied nearly every single day of my life for the last seven months or so. It has also been both a joy and an honor to write . . . and, at times, I worried it might drive me over the edge of madness (but I assure you, it would’ve been worth it in the end even if it had). As I got into the writing of this book, it soon became apparent to me that it was growing into a beast that could not be fed (or, at least, not fed enough). The manuscript had already gone far beyond its allotted word count before it was even three-quarters finished. As a result, I had no choice but to cut some things during the editing process. While I did my best to omit as little as possible, there were just not enough pages available in the final book (which you now hold) for me to fit in every single thing about the Grimm universe that might be considered noteworthy. However, I assure you I’ve taken great pains to be as accurate and thorough as possible. To be honest, I now know any book that covers everything having to do with the mythos of the Grimm universe would likely require a multivolume encyclopedia.

As you begin to read, you may notice that the majority of chapters in this book follow a similar format (with a few exceptions here and there). Most include retellings of the original fairy tales on which many Grimm episodes have been based. Why create retellings, you may be wondering? Why not just use the original stories, word for word? Well, to be honest, many of the original fairy tales were written down between the seventeenth and nineteenth centuries. To put it simply, people wrote very differently in those days. They used words that are no longer in the common vernacular of the English language . . . and some stories include little language quirks of the past that, for many modern readers, can sometimes be confusing or boring—or both. Since one of my main goals with this book was to make it an informative, interesting, and fun/lighthearted read, I decided from the beginning that I would use retellings instead of just quoting the source texts word for word. Anyone can go find the original stories. However, I believe that by retelling these stories I have been able to make them more accessible. Doing so has allowed me to show readers not only the events of these tales, but also the context (and, at times, subtext) of them. I also add a little side comment here and there. Some of these stories have some pretty crazy stuff in them, after all. Why ruin everyone’s fun by ignoring it? Having spent much of my life in the South, I have learned it’s often better not to hide your crazy relatives in the basement when you could bring them into the living room and show them off.

I fully realize, of course, that certain folks—such as literary loyalists and folklore traditionalists—might be upset with me for retelling these stories in my own words. And I think I’m good with that. I decided long before I took on this project that readability and accessibility were far more important than trying to please any would-be critics by sticking to traditional ideas. After all . . . if Grimm teaches us anything, it’s that sometimes you’ve got to shake off the old practices and prejudices of your predecessors and challenge the status quo. So that’s what I have tried to do. I took off the reins, as much as possible, in the writing of this book.

In addition to the retellings, most chapters will offer information on the background of each tale, as well as discussions of how these stories have been interpreted by mythologists and folklorists over the years. And, when applicable, mythical and historical points related to some tales will be examined. However, please keep in mind that none of these should be seen as absolutes. As with most things in mythology and folklore studies, it’s all open to interpretation. My goal with these sections is to simply introduce you to the metaphors and symbolism related to these stories, so that you might understand them from a broader point of view.

Before I finish up this introduction, I feel that I should make one thing perfectly clear—most of the stories and retellings in this book are not appropriate for children. These are not the fairy tales Disney lied to us all about when we were kids. There will be sexual innuendos. There will be backstabbing. And, above all else, there will be bloodshed. Folks (or, in some cases, animals) are going to die in the stories you read in this book, often in a number of creatively nasty ways that Disney would never even dream of depicting in an animated film (but, apparently, the Brothers Grimm and other fairy-tale writers felt these tales were totally fine for kids . . . and, to be honest, they probably were fine for kids who grew up between 1600 and 1900).

Wicked mothers-in-law will meet with ugly and painful ends in tubs full of poisonous serpents.

Children are going to be abandoned and left to die by the parents who are supposed to care for and protect them.

Innocent little girls will be sent alone into the woods to face voracious, salivating creatures that lurk in the shadows . . . looking for the first opportunity to devour them.

The corpses of dead women will be found hanging in forbidden closets.

So, let’s just say you might want to give this book a look through before you decide to read it to the kiddies before bedtime. While, yes, a number of the stories I have retold in this book do end with the words “they lived happily ever after,” one must understand that this happiness is, more often than not, reserved for a chosen few. In nearly every story, death, horror, and heartbreak await. Because . . . in the true world of fairy tales . . . there is no such thing as a happy ending for everyone. It all depends on where you’re standing when the tale is over.

[1]

CARLY: I thought he was gonna kill me.

HANK: Why?

CARLY: He’s a Grimm. It’s . . . what they do.

HANK: A what?

NICK: A Grimm . . . It’s sort of a family problem. Look, I promise I’ll explain it later. But right now you just have to trust me.

—“Kiss of the Muse” (2-20)

Long before the TV show Grimm was even an idea in someone’s head, there were the OGs—Original Grimms—Jacob and Wilhelm. And, both before and after these two brothers graced the planet with their presences, there were other men and women who served as trailblazers as pioneers in a new genre of literature that we now know as “fairy tales”—men like Charles Perrault and Joseph Jacobs, as well as women like Madame d’Aulnoy. While the Brothers Grimm are certainly the best-known folklorists of the fairy-tale tradition, even they had predecessors (just like Nick Burkhardt) and drew upon the knowledge of those who’d come before them. And they had, as one day Nick presumably shall have, descendents who learned from their examples. In this chapter, we shall look at the ghosts of Grimms past, who have allowed the creation of the present mythos of the Grimm universe.

The OGs: Original Grimms

Jacob (YAH-kob in German) Grimm was born in Hanau, Germany, in 1785, and his brother Wilhelm (VIL-helm in German) in 1786. They were the oldest of six children, the first- and second-born sons of Dorothea and Philipp Wilhelm Grimm—a scribe and magistrate to the nearby town of Steinau. Their father’s occupation came with a nice salary, allowing him to provide his family with a comfortable middle-class lifestyle (a bit more of a rarity in those days). Jacob and Wilhelm received educations under a private tutor, Herr Zinckhahn, who schooled them in subjects such as Latin, French, geography, botany, and history. Philipp was already grooming his oldest son Jacob for a career in law. Wilhelm was exceedingly intelligent as well, and seemed to have a bright future ahead of him. However, as sometimes happens, fate was about to throw the Grimm family a curveball.

In 1796, when Jacob and Wilhelm were only eleven and ten years old, their father was stricken with pneumonia. The sickness soon took the man’s life. Since he’d been too young to qualify for a pension when he died, Dorothea Grimm had no choice but to use the family savings to support them all. They soon had to give up their nice spacious home in Steinau and move into a much smaller place. Within a very short time, the life of the Grimm family was turned on its head.

In 1797, Jacob and Wilhelm were sent to live in Kassel, Germany, with Dorothea’s sister, Henriette Zimmer, so they could attend school at the illustrious Lyceum Fredericianum. This was a big opportunity for the brothers, but it by no means meant their lives would get any easier. The school was a rough place for boys like them, who came from neither nobility nor privilege. Jacob often found himself fuming with anger due to the teasing of his socially prejudiced classmates. Wilhelm, on the other hand, was usually too sick to be bothered with such things. He was regularly afflicted with colds, lung/heart illnesses, and fits of asthma. However, the Brothers Grimm persevered through all these hardships and eventually graduated from Lyceum Fredericianum at the top of their classes. Despite this achievement, their experiences with poverty and social prejudice were still not at an end.

In order for the brothers to be allowed to study law at the Philipp University of Marburg (Jacob in 1802 and Wilhelm in 1803), both had to acquire special exemptions and permissions (because they were not from an affluent or noble family). They succeeded in this and gained admission. However, this did not mean they could simply breeze through like the rich kids. Both brothers had to work their rears off while at Marburg, and they were better for the experience. In fact, later in life, Jacob would write in his autobiography of what he learned from his time dealing with poverty at Marburg, saying that such a situation “inspires a healthy sense of pride based on the consciousness of one’s own merit by contrast to what is bestowed on others for their rank or wealth.” The Brothers Grimm undertook the study of law with little more than their intelligence, work ethic, and diligent study habits. Jacob’s first year at university was hard on both Grimm brothers because they were separated. Wilhelm remained at the Lyceum to finish his final year. The brothers never did well when they were apart. Most likely, this was because they could share everything during their times of poverty, and doing so made their difficulties more tolerable.

Unlike their wealthy and/or noble-born classmates, the Brothers Grimm had no choice but to live as modestly as possible. They didn’t qualify for stipends, so they had very little money between them—just enough for essentials like food and rent. They shared a very small living space with a single bed, which they also shared. Some people tend to read a little too much into the fact that the Brothers Grimm often shared a bed, but you shouldn’t. This was not uncommon for the time (even Abe Lincoln used to sleep in a bed with multiple men because that’s all his presidential campaign could afford). While their upper-crust classmates used their born-into wealth to play, travel, gamble, and pursue other such entertaining distractions, the Grimm boys had their noses in books. It didn’t take long before they’d proven themselves far superior—as students, scholars, and just plain old human beings—to their wealthier counterparts. Their obvious academic potential caught the attention of one professor in particular—Friedrich Karl von Savigny, the founder of the German Historical School of Law.

Savigny took the Brothers Grimm under his wing, introducing them to philology (the study of the structure, relationship, and development of languages) and historical research. He also gave them access to his personal library, an impressive collection of records and texts. Savigny was a big influence on the Brothers Grimm—especially Jacob, who dedicated his first philological publication, Deutsche Grammatik (German Grammar), to the man.

Savigny’s library contained more than just texts on philology and history, however. It also offered many works of romantic literature from as far back as the Middle Ages. The Brothers Grimm, who had loved such tales as children, soon became infatuated with these kinds of stories. Many believe it was this period of their lives that likely sparked the Brothers Grimm’s love affair with the folktales that eventually became their legacy.

In the early months of 1805, Savigny invited Jacob, then about twenty years old, to join him in Paris, France, as his research assistant at the University of Paris. Jacob was to assist Savigny in writing a text on the history of Roman law in the Middle Ages. Jacob could not bring Wilhelm with him, unfortunately, which meant the brothers were once again separated.

Jacob Grimm was fluent in French (as was Wilhelm) and did very well for himself while in Paris. He began to cultivate an interest in French law and culture. In 1806, only a year after his move, he was offered a well-paying position at the Hessian War Ministry. Since this job would provide him with the financial means to support his entire family, who’d remained in poverty since his father’s death, Jacob immediately accepted the job. However, as already stated, the brothers didn’t do well when they were apart. Jacob often wrote of this in the letters he sent to Wilhelm while in Paris. He wrote in one letter that, if in the future either of them planned to be away from the other, “the other must give notice at once. We are so accustomed to being together that the idea of separation causes me great distress.” While Jacob’s new job could be a bit tedious and boring, he carried out his responsibilities diligently—he needed the money to provide for the rest of his family.

In 1807, Kassel came under the control of Napoleon, who made the city the capital of his newly founded Kingdom of Westphalia and gave it to his younger brother, Jérôme, to rule. During this time, Jacob felt an increasing desire to leave his career in law to pursue his love of literature. He applied for a royal position at the public library in Kassel at the palace of Napoleonshöhe (formerly known as Wilhelmshöhe).

In 1808, King Jérôme of Westphalia offered Jacob a position as a royal librarian at the palace of Napoleonshöhe. This was an event for celebration, allowing Jacob to pursue his love of literature without sacrificing the income he needed to support his mother and siblings. However, good news was often accompanied by bad for the Grimm family. Just before Jacob officially received his new position, Dorothea Grimm died. This made Jacob solely responsible for his siblings. One can only assume this was a time of conflicting emotions for Jacob Grimm—sadness at the loss of his mother coupled with joy at receiving a position that allowed him to follow his passions.

For a guy like Jacob Grimm, the post of royal librarian at Napoleonshöhe seems to have been the perfect job. He only had to spend a few hours each day doing actual work, usually just cataloging new entries and performing other administrative duties. For the rest of the day, the library was his to explore. Jacob was soon given an additional post as auditor to the Council of State for the War Ministry. However, this doesn’t seem to have been a very time-consuming job. Perhaps the best part of the deal was that Jacob was able to send for Wilhelm to join him. It was during this period that the Brothers Grimm first began working together to collect various stories of folklore. It is important to note that the Brothers Grimm did not “create” the stories they are known for but collected and recorded them. However, this doesn’t belittle their contributions to the literary world in any way.

As seems to have been a theme for those with the Grimm name, their prosperity was mixed with hardship. By 1809, Wilhelm was twenty-three . . . and he was in pretty rough shape. He was in such bad health, in fact, that the family sent him to Halle, Germany, to be treated by Johann Christian Reil, a famous physician at the time. Reil used “magnetic” treatments (which, these days, are known as “junk science”). Wilhelm was given these ridiculously expensive treatments for six months, but they appear to have done nothing to improve his condition. In addition to his asthma, Wilhelm’s heart seemed to be ailing as well. He would later write in his autobiography, “The pain, which felt like a fiery arrow was being shot through my heart, left me with a constant sense of anxiety . . . I was not completely distraught by my illness and, when things were tolerable, I was able to work and even find some pleasure in it.”

Between Jacob’s work obligations and Wilhelm’s struggles with illness, the brothers continued to collect their stories—often by interviewing various volk (or “folk,” in this usage meaning something like “common people”) and writing down the stories as they told them. From 1809 to 1811, the Brothers Grimm pursued their work tirelessly as much as time allowed. A pair of inspired men, they hoped to publish a text of the folktales they’d collected. Only a few years after they’d begun their undertaking, this dream became a reality.

In 1812, the Brothers Grimm published their first printing of the folktales and fairy tales they’d collected. The title of their work was Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children’s and Household Tales). It would be one of the most well-received books of its time, turning the Brothers Grimm into nearly overnight sensations in the literary world. At a time when the German people found themselves under the foreign rule of Napoleon’s French empire, the primarily Germanic nature and origins of the tales in Kinder- und Hausmärchen were viewed by some as a kind of cultural resistance, a way to retain a national identity in the face of foreign occupation. It would seem the Brothers Grimm agreed with the sentiment that there was a political element in their efforts to collect these fairy tales. In his autobiography, Wilhelm wrote that “Undoubtedly, the world situation, and the need to withdraw into the tranquility of scholarship, contributed to the reawakening of this long-forgotten literature, but we were not just seeking solace in the past, we also hoped that the course on which we had embarked would contribute somehow to the return of a better day.”

Politics aside, the Brothers Grimm saw themselves as stewards of a nearly lost oral tradition of storytelling. With their collections of stories, they hoped to inspire other scholars to do as they had done—preserve such tales in written form (even those with pagan/pre-Christian origins) as accurately and entirely as possible. And, from 1812 to 1815, the Brothers Grimm continued to expand and revise their original Kinder- und Hausmärchen, publishing a number of updated editions and related collections of mythology, folklore, and fairy tales. However, the world in which they lived was changing around them (and not exactly in positive ways). In order to put things in context, there is no choice but to give you a bit of a history lesson, dear reader.

During the years in which the Brothers Grimm published their first works on fairy tales, German opposition to Napoleon’s occupation had intensified, especially when the occupying government tried to force the German people to speak only French. The German people were getting fed up with their French rulers. Unfortunately for Napoleon, he made a fatal error in 1812 when he attempted to invade and conquer Russia. To put it bluntly, he got his butt kicked. The Russians began a “scorched earth” campaign, setting fire to and then abandoning cities and towns as Napoleon’s army advanced into them. As a result, he could not resupply his men with stolen goods from the areas he took. His losses were dire, not only from battle but also from hunger and sickness. Napoleon began his campaign in Russia with roughly 500,000 troops. By December of 1812, roughly 380,000 of these troops were dead. About another 100,000 of them were prisoners of war, captured by the Russians. Napoleon fled Russia as fast as he could, even abandoning his surviving troops so he could return to the relative safety of Paris. The epic failure of his Russian campaign greatly weakened Napoleon’s military might, and just about all of his enemies (of which there were many) now smelled blood in the water . . . and they were beginning to circle.

In October 1813, a coalition army made up of Russian, German/Prussian, Austrian, and Swedish troops engaged what was left of Napoleon’s army at Leipzig in what would be the largest battle in European history until World War I. Roughly 600,000 troops took the field. The battle that followed is referred to as Völkerschlacht (Nation Battle or People’s Battle) by Germans. In the English-speaking world, this event is commonly known as the Battle of Leipzig or the Battle of the Nations. Overwhelmingly outmanned, outgunned, and outmaneuvered, Napoleon suffered a crippling defeat and retreated (yet again) back to France with his tail between his legs. Unlike the Russians, however, the coalition forces pursued him relentlessly, and by 1814, France was under siege. Napoleon was captured, forced to give up his throne, and exiled to the Mediterranean island of Elba.

The French had already been ousted from Kassel in 1813, when Jacob Grimm was given a diplomatic position in the Hessian Peace Delegation. He traveled to both Vienna and Paris to aid in the drafting of peace treaties. While this, once again, required the Brothers Grimm to be separated, it was well worth it to both if the distance meant an end to Napoleon’s empire. Once the necessary treaties were drafted and signed, Jacob rejoined Wilhelm in Kassel and resumed his position as a librarian. The next ten years would be, according to Jacob Grimm, “the quietest, most industrious . . . and most fruitful period” he’d ever known. Jacob and Wilhelm worked side by side as writers, chroniclers, and scholars. Both became incredibly prolific writers and published many more works over the years, such as Deutsche Mythologie (German Mythology), Deutsche Rechtsalterthumer (Ancient German Law), and Deutsche Sagen (German Heroic Legends), among others.

While Jacob and Wilhelm were undoubtedly delighted to finally be reunited at the end of Napoleon’s rule, everything between them wasn’t always all unicorns and roses. As brothers tend to do, they often disagreed, had heated arguments, and just generally got on each other’s nerves. Jacob had always been the more ambitious and aggressive of the two brothers. As they grew older, though, Wilhelm began to feel his life had been overly dominated by his older sibling. He also grew increasingly intolerant of Jacob’s temperamental attitude, which made him a bit difficult to deal with at times. For example, in a letter Wilhelm wrote to his friend Ludwig Achim von Arnim (a German poet and novelist), he complained of often feeling frustrated with Jacob’s negativity: “He tends by nature to engage in criticism, and has nurtured this tendency, so that he always sees the worst side of things . . . I often worry about this condition, but then he is always extremely sensitive, often believing he’s been abandoned or neglected. He acts unhappy about it, but the truth is he is the one who alienates people with his testy nature.” Despite the occasional disagreement between them, the Brothers Grimm remained close their entire lives.

In 1825, Wilhelm married a woman named Henriette Dorothea Wild. Known by her nickname Dortchen, she was the daughter of a pharmacist living in Kassel and the great-granddaughter of a renowned philologist. Married life seemed to agree with Wilhelm, who is quoted as having referred to marriage as “God’s best blessing.” Jacob, on the other hand, remained a lifelong bachelor. In April 1826, Wilhelm and Dortchen had their first child. They named him Jacob. Sadly, the boy died that December. Infant mortality rates were far higher in those days, of course. They would have other children, but one can imagine how heartbreaking the loss of their firstborn must have been for the couple.

Even though Wilhelm was married, the Brothers Grimm continued to live under the same roof and worked together by day as librarians. In 1829, the chief librarian of the Royal Library died. An elector was chosen to select a new chief librarian and, unfortunately, neither Jacob nor Wilhelm got the job. The elector wasn’t too fond of Jacob and felt that he’d neglected his duties because he’d published his text German Grammar while working as a royal librarian. Poor Wilhelm just seems to have been viewed as guilty by association. Realizing they’d likely never be promoted now, both brothers resigned from their positions. Upon their departure, the elector is often said to have made the following (sarcastic) remark: “The Grimms are leaving? What a loss! They’ve never done anything for me.” FYI—the elector also seems to have shortly thereafter realized what a terrible mistake he’d made. Only a few weeks later, he made generous job offers to both Jacob and Wilhelm . . . which they declined.

The Brothers Grimm now moved to Göttingen, where Jacob took a job at the university as a professor of German linguistics and law. He was also given the additional appointment of head librarian. Wilhelm, as he often did, relied on his older brother and acquired a job as a librarian under Jacob. Later on, he was given a post as a professor. The reason the Brothers Grimm chose Göttingen most likely had to do with the fact that it had one of the largest and most coveted collections of texts in the world at the time. In addition, it was the first lending library in all of Germany.

By 1833, the world was transforming around the Brothers Grimm yet again. Germany had drafted a new constitution and elected its own parliament. The winds of change seemed ready to blow away the monarchical past. Unfortunately, when Ernst August I assumed the throne in 1837, the first thing he did was abolish the constitution and get rid of parliament, making himself the sole authoritative power. He also required all civil servants (which, at that time, included university professors like the Brothers Grimm) to swear oaths of allegiance to him. Seven professors resisted, among them Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm.

These seven professors (eventually known as the Göttingen Seven) collectively drafted a document that stated they were loyal to the 1833 constitution and that the king had no right to abolish it. As one might imagine, the king didn’t take the news very well. Within a few weeks, all seven were dismissed from their jobs. Three professors were singled out as the ringleaders of the whole thing, Jacob Grimm among them (big surprise). The king ordered all three to leave the lands he ruled within three days or be arrested and thrown in prison. However, their strong resolve and willingness to stand against the tyranny of the king’s decree (who’d made it obvious he cared nothing for the will of his subjects) made them champions of the people . . . sort of.

Before being forced into exile, Jacob Grimm publicly addressed an assembly of students and professors: “The freedom of Christian men,” he said, quoting Martin Luther, “must give us the courage to resist our ruler if it turns out he acts against the Spirit of God and if he offends human rights.” Unfortunately for Jacob, many of his colleagues at Göttingen had sided with the king on this particular issue, choosing job security over freedom. There was no outcry among their fellow scholars for the king to repeal his decision. Sadly, as time passed, a certain amount of the German population came to view Jacob Grimm as a traitor to Germany instead of a hero of the people. Even their old mentor, Friedrich Karl von Savigny, refused to give his endorsement to their protest. Some dissidents remained, though, continuing to support the rebellious professors, and a group even tried to raise money to help the Göttingen Seven. However, after the professors made their very public protest, the university experienced a series of hardships that were blamed on the Göttingen Seven. The king stepped in and provided financial aid, later remarking that money was all he needed, all anyone needed, in order to secure the obedience of “dancers, prostitutes, and professors.” This guy was a real peach, wasn’t he?

Jacob returned to Kassel, followed shortly thereafter by Wilhelm and his beloved Dortchen. The brothers were greeted as heroes by the inhabitants of Kassel but, while everyone seemed willing to give them a pat on the back, no one was willing to offer them employment. Stripped of their incomes, they had no choice but to rely on savings, the generosity of friends, and the sporadic earnings they made from publishing. During this time, they immersed themselves in a new project that had never before been attempted—creating a comprehensive German dictionary. These were, yet again, difficult times for the Brothers Grimm. They weren’t strangers to difficulty, however, and they muddled