Princess Tuvstarr is out playing in a meadow full of flowers, her king father and mother queen occupied in the castle. When a huge elk passes by nibbling at the grass, she asks eagerly: will you carry me out to see the world? He reluctantly let her sit up but warns Tuvstarr that the world is a dangerous place full of cold evil and wickedness. She retorts with a smile and the innocence of her age saying she will warm the world. Keep on to my antlers with both your hands, do not let go of them, it will bring misfortune if you slip admonish the elk bringing her forth. They ride over hills and mountains, through deep valleys and out on open plains. But her three cherished possessions are lost one after another. Elves with their cold breaths dance around her in the early morning mist and steal away with her golden crown.
Her white dress of silk and delicate muslin is robbed by the skogsrå, a woodland nymph that seen from the front is a beautiful woman with cold green eyes, blood red lips, ferns in her hair and a serpent around her neck. Seen from behind her back is covered with coarse skin like tree bark and with a big hole all through. Tuvstarr is now all naked riding her friend the elk, stopping now and then to feed on cloudberries offered by the quagmire. At last, at a small forest pond she is warned by the elk to not let go of his fur but mesmerized by the black brownish water with a glow of green and gold down in the depth she let go with one of her hands and her golden heart slips down in the abyss. She sits off, transfixed by the water. First, she loses her memory, then her senses. The next time the elk passes by there is only a little white flower left: Tuvstarr, the tiny little one she was named after.
Italo Calvino’s Italian fairytales would probably have reached a much larger audience had he had a master illustrator like John Bauer at hand. There is a striking similarity in both historic and newly concocted tales in Sweden and by Calvino, not all of them have a happy ending in contrast to the fairytales once redacted by the brothers Grimm. Calvino and in this case writer Helge Kjellin keep the original tale alive. Is the tale about Tuvstarr a retelling of the passage to Hades? To the underworld like in the Sumerian Inanna myth? Part of you must die in order to be reborn more fully. Or is the narcissus myth once again? Or a more mundane warning to the innocent little child that you will be punished for your curiosity if you leave home and family, an analogy to women’s role in late 19th century society.
For Italian version, see below: