Wednesday, 24 April 2019

She said she was a real Princess. ‘Ah! we shall soon see that!’ thought the old Queen mother!

Danish author Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tales, of more than 150 years ago, have always had such a lovable charm of their own, ain't they?

Even today, with a host of theoretical paradigms that seek to threaten the ambit of ‘l'art pour l'art', the ‘unravished bride’ of the good ol’ fairy tales still do have their charm and their music intact!

Added, most of us, during our kiddo days were wont to freak out on them in the dawning, nooning and evening times of our habituated ‘read’ie existence, on this amazing legendary fairy tale writer!

It is said that, more than 3300 of his works have been translated into more than 125 languages! That’s a whopping number, by all means!

Andersen’s fairy tales have been assimilated, ingested, chewed and digested by the youngistans and the oldistans alike to such an extent that they have become a part of their collective unconscious in all their myriad glory!

But wait! Andersen wasn't quite this sensational a hit with the reading public until the year 1845, when his works started getting their due in English, with a slew of translations coming up on him!

From thence on, it's been 'no turning back' on Andersen's fame and popularity!

Anderson’s tales are unique not only because of their way to pull us all into its amazing wonderlands, but also because they present to us on a platter, amazing lessons of virtue, ethics, fortitude and resilience for readers of all hues, alike!

So today, one short story from Andersen for us all!

Even as you read through the story, an ardent plea for y’all would be to enjoy each line with relish! Cos’ they are translated versions of the original, but they nayver ever seem so!

Hats off to translators and their invaluable contributions in making our wonderlands stay alive and afloat even centuries from thence on!

Here goes a little short story from Andersen for us all! It’s titled “The Real Princess”


There was once a Prince who wished to marry a Princess; but then she must be a real Princess. He travelled all over the world in hopes of finding such a lady; but there was always something wrong. 
Princesses he found in plenty; but whether they were real Princesses it was impossible for him to decide, for now one thing, now another, seemed to him not quite right about the ladies.

At last he returned to his palace quite cast down, because he wished so much to have a real Princess for his wife.

One evening a fearful tempest arose, it thundered and lightened, and the rain poured down from the sky in torrents: besides, it was as dark as pitch.

All at once there was heard a violent knocking at the door, and the old King, the Prince’s father, went out himself to open it.

It was a Princess who was standing outside the door.

What with the rain and the wind, she was in a sad condition; the water trickled down from her hair, and her clothes clung to her body.

She said she was a real Princess. ‘Ah! we shall soon see that!’ thought the old Queenmother; however, she said not a word of what she was going to do; but went quietly into the bedroom, took all the bed-clothes off the bed, and put three little peas on the bedstead.

She then laid twenty mattresses one upon another over the three peas, and put twenty feather beds over the mattresses.

Upon this bed the Princess was to pass the night.

The next morning she was asked how she had slept.

‘Oh, very badly indeed!’ she replied. ‘I have scarcely closed my eyes the whole night through. I do not know what was in my bed, but I had something hard under me, and am all over black and blue.

It has hurt me so much!’ Now it was plain that the lady must be a real Princess, since she had been able to feel the three little peas through the twenty mattresses and twenty feather beds.

None but a real Princess could have had such a delicate sense of feeling.

The Prince accordingly made her his wife; being now convinced that he had found a real Princess.

The three peas were however put into the cabinet of curiosities, where they are still to be seen, provided they are not lost.

THE END

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