A collection of radical political fairy tales--some in English for the first time--from one of the great female practitioners of the genre
Hermynia Zur Mühlen (1883-1951), one of the twentieth century's great political writers, was not seemingly destined for a revolutionary, unconventional literary career. Born in Vienna to an aristocratic Catholic family, Zur Mühlen married an Estonian count. But she rebelled, leaving her upper-class life to be with the Hungarian writer and Communist Stefan Klein, and supporting herself through translations and publications. Altogether, Zur Mühlen wrote thirty novels, mysteries, and story collections, and translated around 150 works, including those of Upton Sinclair, John Galsworthy, and Edna Ferber. A wonderful new addition to the Oddly Modern Fairy Tales series, The Castle of Truth and Other Revolutionary Tales presents English readers with a selection of Zur Mühlen's best political fairy tales, some translated from German for the first time.
In contrast to the classical tales of the Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Andersen, Zur Mühlen's candid, forthright stories focus on social justice and the plight of the working class, with innovative plots intended to raise the political consciousness of readers young and old. For example, in "The Glasses," readers are encouraged to rip off the glasses that deceive them, while in "The Carriage Horse," horses organize a union to resist their working and living conditions. In "The Broom," a young worker learns how to sweep away injustice.
With an informative introduction by Jack Zipes and period illustrations by George Grosz, John Heartfield, Heinrich Vogeler, and Karl Holtz, The Castle of Truth and Other Revolutionary Tales revives the legacy of a notable female artist whose literary and political work remains relevant in our own time.
A collection of radical, German fairy tales mostly published during the Weimar years by Austrian author and translator Hermynia Zur Mühlen aka the red countess. These come with a comprehensive introduction by academic and fairy-tale specialist Jack Zipes who provides an overview of Zur Mühlen’s life detailing her rejection of her aristocratic family and her lifelong dedication to activism and socialist causes, as well as her years in exile after the National Socialists came to power. The stories admittedly vary in quality, some are more than a little heavy-handed in their portrayal of Zur Mühlen’s ideas about the exploitation of workers. Others are innovative, striking and frequently moving - perhaps because her commentary on xenophobia, discrimination and poor working conditions are still all too relevant in far too many parts of the world. I particularly enjoyed her version of a creation myth “The Troublemakers”, “The Rose Bush” which reminded me of Hans Christian Andersen’s stories only more socially conscious in its message, and “The Glasses” about a world in which people are prevented from seeing the reality of their circumstances by an evil magician. There’s an added bonus here too in the selection of illustrations taken from the original editions, including work from anti-fascist artist John Heartfield, better known for his photomontage and evocative book covers, and the caricaturist and painter George Grosz. Jack Zipes’s translation’s fluid and convincing.
The Castle of Truth and Other Revolutionary Tales by Hermynia Zur Mühlen
The story of life the author led would make at least as interesting a read as the book she wrote.
Born with a silver spoon in her mouth in Vienna as Hermine Isabella Maria Folliot de Crenneville into an aristocratic family the propriety rules of which she started to disregard as early as her childhood years, she decided that her best way out was by getting married to someone beyond her family’s reach. That she did, to a Polish aristocrat, and to the chagrin of her family who believed he was below her class. This was a calculated move on her part, though, to rid herself of the binding expectations of her tight upper lip family and social class.
However, her deliberated marriage of convenience not turning out to be as convenient (as she soon found out soon that “there was nothing about which they did not have opposing opinions”) she abandoned the husband and united the rest of her life with that of Stefan Klein, a Hungarian Communist writer. As expected, she joined the Communist Party as a staunch supporter of the goals and principles of the socialist movement.
In her later years, her life she took another interesting turn, however. She lost her faith in the leadership of the Communist Party in its ability to lead the working class towards the sort of a socialist future she had been envisaging. Instead, she made a swing to religion, which she saw as a better fit for this leadership role.
Her book is a compilation of the children’s tales she wrote during her period of radicalization. They are meant as much for adults as for children. Some of these tales might have been an inspiration, I feel, for Antoine de Saint-Exupery in The Little Prince dialogues (supposing he read them). This seems to be the case, particularly, given the “open ended” style shared by the two authors.
This book, I recommend as a bedside companion conveying through a juvenile perspective the human condition mired in deprivation and injustice versus the courage of people in upkeeping their hope for a better future and maintaining their dignity despite odds.
Though published in Austria in 1925 (so some language is indicative of the time re:gender and race) the intentions and accessibility of these radical fairytales for the working class are timeless. Some moments are a bit "on the nose" but the beauty of retelling stories orally is the shift of language. I was led to zur Mühlen after hearing a retelling of her story "The Glasses" for our students after the murder of George Floyd, and it allowed for thoughtful and relevant discussion. A gift.
I'm not sure why these rather solemn and supposedly edifying fairy tales are assigned to the 'oddly modern' genre, unless ideology, whether of the left or the right, is regarded as mould-breaking or, more aptly, pioneering. Having enjoyed the politically uncorrected, preferably unexpurgated, tales of my own childhood, l found the didacticism increasingly tedious. The best thing about the publication is its reproduction of the excellent woodcuts. From the editor's introduction, which is well worth reading, it seems that Zur Mühlen's enthusiasm for the brave new world of socialism did not long survive the practice. Although these selected tales date from her allegedly radical Weimar years, it is noticeable that the last in this collection, 'The Story of the Wise Judge' (1944) depicts his virtuous wife behaving with shameless duplicity, the sting more often encountered in the traditional 'tale' of the trickster.
Someone said that good stories pose questions while propaganda gives answers.
The introduction: 'The Red Countess and Her Revolutionary Vision' provides a frame suggesting Muhlen's intentions for writing these tales: galvanising the working class and inspiring children to question authority and the status quo. And so, when proceeding to read the tales, there's an added layer of reader participation in judging the ‘success’ of the stories and pondering how they may have influenced the children of the 1920’s and 30’s — and possibly altered history.
Each story attempts to instil a socialist value, a criticism of capitalism or, for instance, explain how labour strikes work in a way that children can grasp. There are a few jabs at religion too.
Society would be immensely different if these tales were as pervasive as Little Red Riding Hood. Her tales would foster a more proactive and inquisitive -less controllable- population. It would be easier to mobilise the working classes to weild their leverage as the majority against elites if these ideas were planted early on. Which is likely why these were never published at the time (along with how Muhlen was married to a communist party member).
Personally, I felt the most resonant stories were:
Ali, the Carpet Weaver (1923) The Rose Bush (1922) Why? (1922) The Red Flag (1930) The Servant (1923) The Collaborator (1924) The Broom (1924)
While, in my opinion, the following fell flat either due to on-the-nose metaphors or only offering some disenfranchising, unfeasible ‘magic’ solution:
The Glasses (1923) The Castle of Truth (1924) The Crown King of Domnoneé (1944) The Wise Judge (1944)
Curiously, and perhaps reflective of the time, in all the stories traditional gender roles remained unchallenged; mainly extortion, greed and cruelty were explored.
The Castle of Truth is from Princeton University Press’s “Oddly Modern Fairy Tales” series, edited by Jack Zipe. According to the publisher’s website, the series is “dedicated to publishing unusual literary fairy tales produced mainly during the first half of the twentieth century.” Zur Mühlen wrote these fables, during the ’20s and ’40s, while living in Nazi-controlled/adoring Austria—a time in which Zur Mühlen transformed from a Marxist-socialist-fabulist to a fabulist of a “spiritual” (and non-orthodox) Catholic bent. Either way, the ideology is so ossified and unyielding, I can imagine only three sorts of people interested in these stories: folklorists and historians of political science, and cruel parents who despise their children. Let me illustrate:
"I don't understand why [capitalists] are such mean people," Peter said. "The matchbox wanted to explain this to you," responded the bottle somewhat reproachfully. "It wanted to tell you about the capitalist system, but you fell asleep while it was talking."
In “The Broom,” Franz receives an enchanted feather pen from a sorcerer:
The feather wrote and wrote. It wrote two pages full, and when it was done and Franz read what it had written, he saw a beautiful poem about the suffering of poor people and the wickedness of rich people. It was a poem that one could read aloud only in a tearful, sobbing voice.
Or you could just turn the page and avoid the whole ordeal.
The best part of this book is the introduction. I really enjoyed learning about this unique woman and the apparently not-so-unique writing of political literature for children between the world wars.
It would have been more effective to pace out the information in the introduction by breaking it apart and introducing each piece individually to give a bit more context.
And of course the suffering of the many is as timeless a topic as ever. But the harshness that the poor is blamed as being complicit in their own misery took me aback.
My recommendation? Read the introduction and a story or two and you’ll get the flavor.