The Tales of Uncle Remus / Сказки дядюшки Римуса. Книга для чтения на английском языке

The Tales of Uncle Remus / Сказки дядюшки Римуса. Книга для чтения на английском языке

Комментарии и словарь Е. Г. Тигонен

© КАРО, 2014

Introduction

My lasting memories of my grandmother are of her telling me stories. I know that she told folktales and fairy tales from many parts of the world. I cried when she told Andersen’s Little Match Girl – it was so beautiful and so sad. But my favorites, and I’m sure they were hers as well, were the Brer Rabbit stories. I howled with laughter when Brer Rabbit asked the Tar Baby “and how does your symptoms segashuate?” My grandmother did not attempt to use the dialect of Joel Chandler Harris because, even though she had been born on a Maryland plantation in 1862, she did not speak the way Harris interpreted slave speech. Her mother had told her the stories and she told them to me with love and affection as she sat in her favorite rocking chair in the middle of a large, old-fashioned kitchen. It was a way for her to entertain me as she watched her cooking.

In 1917 when I was old enough to go to school I still wanted to hear about Brer Rabbit and Miz Meadows and the gals, so I would rush home to be there by “pot-watching” time. “Grandma,” I’d ask, “tell about how Brer Rabbit tricked Brer Fox.” We would get comfortable[1] and start down Brer Rabbit’s road. Small, helpless Brer Rabbit always defeated his adversaries – the large animals – with his wit, humor, and wisdom. In my smallness I related to the clever little hare who could always get out of the most difficult situations through his sharp wit.

I soon wanted to read these stories myself, which led me to the only collections available, by Joel Chandler Harris. They were in a dialect that was like a foreign language and I could not handle it[2]. I was frustrated and, although I loved the stories, I was too impatient to struggle with the words. Grandmother died and the Brer Rabbit stories were put into the storage of my mind.

It wasn’t until several years later, in college, that I learned about the importance of these stories as true American folklore. Dr. Harold Thompson, a leading American folklorist, gave a lecture on people from the West Coast of Africa who had been captured and sold as slaves. Some were settled in the southern states where they took stories from home about a hare – Wakaima – and adapted them to their new surroundings. Wakaima became Brer Rabbit and the clay man became the Tar Baby. Learning about this made me turn to the books again, and once again I tried unsuccessfully to read them.

In 1937 I found myself in the 135th Street branch of the New York Public Library located in the heart of Harlem as a children’s librarian. One of the prerequisites of this position was to tell stories. I soon learned that these black boys and girls needed to be introduced to the humor and hidden philosophies of Brer Rabbit and his cohorts. Here was a contribution to their racial pride – to know that their black forefathers had first told these stories and, in so doing, had added to the body of American folklore. Many of them were sensitive to the slave setting that showed Uncle Remus telling the stories to the little white boy, so I eliminated that frame. It became obvious that the tales stood on their own as their African counterparts about Wakaima did.

One day a young, dynamic woman came to the children’s room and told me that she was a student in Lucy Sprague Mitchell’s Bank Street writing course. She had decided that her project would be to retell the Uncle Remus stories. Her name was Margaret Wise Brown, who later became an outstanding author of books for the very young. She too realized that the stories could be removed from their slave setting without losing any of their unique qualities. So she eliminated the figure of Uncle Remus and titled her project simply “Brer Rabbit” and subsequently had it published under the same title. But she retained the phrasing and speech patterns of Joel Chandler Harris because she did not have the rhythm and natural speech patterns of the southern blacks. A true translation and interpretation would come from within the black experience.

Despite the drawbacks in Harris’s text, I still loved the stories and appreciated Brer Rabbit as a cultural hero and a significant part of my heritage. However, I was telling the stories less and less often because of the dialect. Then in the late forties and early fifties the Harlem schools along with others with liberal philosophies in New York City were asking that their classes be given lectures on black history[3]. How could I represent our African background and the relationship between Africa and black America to primary grades? How could I show the fusion of the different African cultures and the cultures existing in America and the West Indies?

The answer came one day as I was planning a story hour. I would tell Wakaima and the Clay Man, discuss in simple terms the middle passage (the slaves’ experiences on slave ships), relate Wakaima to Brer Rabbit, and finally tell Brer Rabbit and the Tar Baby. Once again I would be telling the animal stories without a truly satisfactory book for the children. As a librarian and one who feels that storytelling is an ideal way to bring together children and books, my frustration grew.

In 1972 a book was placed on my desk and I knew immediately that I had found the answer to years of seeking. Julius Lester had written The Knee-High Man and Other Tales, published by Dial. Here were black folktales told perfectly. Lester had used the voice and the language of black people. And he does so again in his tellings of the Uncle Remus stories. In the foreword to this book he calls it “a modified contemporary southern black English, a combination of standard English and black English where sound is as important as meaning.” He has preserved the story lines, the wit, the humor – all of the attributes which have made the stories so much a part of my life – while making them accessible to readers. It is interesting to read the foreword to this collection, preferably before reading the stories. Much research and personal feeling have been distilled into a concise, historical, and chronological explanation of the Uncle Remus stories. This foreword is invaluable to the appreciation of the tales.

I can not emphasize enough the importance of telling the stories. As you listen to yourself the rhythm and melodic language of Lester’s telling will come forth[4]. The contemporary approach to some of the stories brings them into today’s lifestyle. They fit into the traditional and bring a modern humor to the stories. They must be told and I look forward to sharing them with children.

Augusta, Baker Columbia, South Carolina, August 1985

Augusta Baker is former Coordinator of Children’s Services of The New York Public Library and Storyteller-in-Residence at the University of South Carolina.

How the Animals Came to Earth

Most folks don’t know it, but the animals didn’t always live on earth. Way back before “In the beginning” and “Once upon a time,” they lived next door to the Moon. They’d probably still be there if Brer Rabbit and Sister Moon hadn’t started squabbling with one another like they were married[5]. The way it come about was like this:

The animals liked to sit out in their yards every evening and look at Sister Moon. They thought she was just about the prettiest thing they’d ever seen, and Sister Moon never argued with them. Well, the animals started noticing that she was losing weight. To tell the truth, she was looking downright puny, like she had gone on a cottage cheese diet.

Brer Rabbit decided to climb over the fence to find out what was going on.

“What’s the matter, Sister Moon? I don’t mean to hurt your feelings or nothing like that, but you look po’ as Job’s turkey.”

Sister Moon said, “I ain’t been feeling like myself of late.”

“Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Thank you, Brer Rabbit, but I don’t believe you the man to do what I need doing.”

Brer Rabbit was insulted. “I’m more man than Brer Sun who you chase all over the sky every month and can’t catch up to[6].”

Sister Moon smiled tightly. “All right, Brer Rabbit. I’ll try you out. I need to get word to Mr. Man that I ain’t feeling like myself. I believe I done caught cold from being out in the night air so much. If I don’t put my light out and take a little vacation, I’m going to be in a bad way[7]. I don’t want Mr. Man to look up and see my light out one night and get scared.”

“I’ll take the word to him. I been wanting to see what a something called Mr. Man look like anyway.”

“Tell Mr. Man I said, ‘I’m getting weak for to be more strong. I’m going in the shade for to get more light.’”

Brer Rabbit said it over a couple of times and off he went.

He took a running start and jumped a long jump. He fell through space, past the stars and down through the firmament, tumbling tail over head and head over behind. This was no place for a rabbit! He was so scared; his eyes got big and wide and almost popped out of his head and they been that way ever since. This was the last time his mouth was going to get him into something his feet couldn’t do.

He landed on Earth and waited a few minutes to make sure he had all his parts[8] and they were in working order. Then he looked around. The first thing he saw was Mr. Man’s garden. It was filled with green peas, lettuce, cabbage, collard greens, and sparrow grass. Over in the field were sheep, cows, goats, and pigs. Brer Rabbit’s mouth started trembling and dribbling at the same time.

He went up to Mr. Man’s house, knocked on the door, and said, “I got a message for you from Sister Moon.”

“What is it?”

Brer Rabbit thought for a minute. “She say, ‘I’m getting weak; I got no strength. I’m going to where the shadows stay.’”

Mr. Man got indignant. “Tell Sister Moon I said, ‘Seldom seen and soon forgot[9]; when Sister Moon dies her feet get cold.’”

Brer Rabbit nodded and took a long jump back up to Sister Moon. He told her what Mr. Man said. Sister Moon was angry. She hauled off and hit Brer Rabbit with a shovel and split his lip. Brer Rabbit don’t take no stuff off nobody[10] and he clawed and scratched Sister Moon. And to this day you can seek the marks – rabbits have split lips and the face of the moon is all scratched up and got holes in it.

Brer Rabbit went and told the animals about all the vegetables and sheep and goats and fat pigs he’d seen on Mr. Man’s place. They decided right then that Sister Moon was on her own from now on.

They took the long jump and this is where they’ve been ever since.

How Brer Fox and Brer Dog Became Enemies

When the animals started living here on Earth, something seemed to happen to them. Where before they had gotten along with each other[11], now they started having little arguments and disagreements. It was only a matter of time before they weren’t much different from people.

Brer Fox and Brer Rabbit were sitting alongside the road one day talking about much of nothing[12] when they heard a strange sound – blim, blim, blim.

“What’s that?” Brer Fox wanted to know. He didn’t know whether to get scared or not.

“That?” answered Brer Rabbit. “Sound like Sister Goose.”

“What she be doing?”

“Battling clothes,” said Brer Rabbit.

I know you don’t know what I’m talking about. You take your clothes to the Laundromat, or have a washing machine and dryer sitting right in the house. Way back yonder folks took their clothes down to the creek or stream or what’nsoever, got them real wet, laid’em across a big rock or something, took a stick and beat the dirt out of them. You don’t know nothing about no clean clothes until you put on some what been cleaned with a battlin’ stick.

Well, when Brer Fox heard that Sister Goose was down at the stream, his eyes got big and Brer Rabbit knew his mind had just gotten fixed on supper. Brer Fox said he reckoned he better be getting home. Brer Rabbit said he supposed he should do the same, and they went their separate ways[13].

Brer Rabbit doubled back[14], however, and went down to the stream where Sister Goose was.

“How you today, Sister Goose?”

“Just fine, Brer Rabbit. Excuse me for not shaking hands with you, but I got all these suds on my hands.”

Brer Rabbit said he understood.

I suppose I got to stop the story, ’cause I can hear you thinking that a goose don’t have hands. And next thing I know you be trying to get me to believe that snakes don’t have feet and cats don’t have wings, and I know better[15]! So, if you don’t mind, you can keep your thoughts to yourself and I’ll get back to the story.

After Brer Rabbit and Sister Goose had finished exchanging the pleasantries of the day, Brer Rabbit said, “I got to talk with you about Brer Fox. He’s coming for you, Sister Goose, and it’ll probably be before daybreak.”

Sister Goose got all nervous and scared. “What am I gon’ do, Brer Rabbit? My husband is dead and ain’t no man around the house. What am I gon’ do?”

Brer Rabbit thought for a minute. “Take all your clothes and roll ’em up in a nice clean white sheet and put that on your bed tonight. Then you go spend the night up in the rafters.”

So, that’s what Sister Goose did. But she also sent for her friend, Brer Dog, and asked him if he’d keep watch that night. He said he’d be glad to.

Just before daybreak Brer Fox creeped up to the house, looked around, eased the front door open and slipped inside. He saw something big and white on the bed. He grabbed it and ran out the door. Soon as he jumped off the porch, Brer Dog came out from under the house growling and scratching up dirt. Brer Fox dropped that bundle of clothes like it was a burning log and took off! It’s a good thing, too[16], ’cause it had taken Brer Dog four months to find somebody who could wash and iron his pajamas as good as Sister Goose, and he wasn’t about to let nothing happen to her.

Next day when the news got around that Brer Fox had tried to steal Sister Goose’s laundry, he couldn’t go nowhere for a week. Brer Fox blamed Brer Dog for spreading the news through the community, and ever since that day, the Dog and the Fox haven’t gotten along with each other.

“Hold ’im Down, Brer Fox”

Brer Fox couldn’t prove it, but he knew Brer Rabbit had warned Sister Goose he was coming, and he made up his mind to get even[17]. Brer Rabbit got word about what Brer Fox was thinking on, so he stayed away from his regular habitats for a while.

On this particular day he was somewhere up around Lost Forty and saw a great big Horse laying dead out in a pasture. Or he thought it was dead until he saw the Horse’s tail switch.

Brer Rabbit went on his way, but who should he see coming toward him but Brer Fox!

“Brer Fox! Brer Fox! Come here! Quick! I got some good news! Come here!”

Brer Fox didn’t care what kind of good news Brer Rabbit had. The good news was that he had found that rabbit! Just as Brer Fox got in grabbing distance, Brer Rabbit said:

“Come on, Brer Fox! I done found how we can have enough fresh meat to last us until the middle of next Septerrary.”

Brer Fox, being a prudent man, thought he should check this out. “What you talking about, Brer Rabbit?”

“I just found a Horse laying on the ground where we can catch him and tie him up.”

Sounded good to Brer Fox. “Let’s go!”

Brer Rabbit led him over to the pasture, and sho’ nuf, there was the Horse laying on the ground like he was waiting for them. Brer Rabbit and Brer Fox got to talking about how to tie him up. They argued back and forth for a while[18] until finally Brer Rabbit said:

“Listen. I tell you the way we do it. I’ll tie you to his tail and when he tries to get up, you can hold him down. If I was a big strong man like you, I’d do it, and you know, if I was to hold him, he would be held. But I ain’t got your strength. Of course, if you scared to do it, then I reckon we got to come up with another plan[19].”

There was something about the plan that Brer Fox didn’t like, but he couldn’t think of what it was. Not wanting Brer Rabbit to think he wasn’t strong and brave, he said O.K.

Brer Rabbit tied him to the Horse’s tail. “Brer Fox! That Horse don’t know it, but he caught!” Brer Fox grinned weakly.

Brer Rabbit got him a great, long switch and hit the Horse on the rump – POW! The Horse jumped up and landed on his feet and there was Brer Fox, dangling upside down in the air, too far off the ground for peace of mind.

“Hold ’im down, Brer Fox! Hold ’im down!”

The Horse felt something on his tail. He started jumping and raring and bucking and Brer Fox knew now what was wrong with Brer Rabbit’s idea.

“Hold ’im down, Brer Fox! Hold ’im down!”

The Horse jumped and twirled and snorted and bucked, but Brer Fox hung on.

“Hold ’im down, Brer Fox! Hold ’im down!”

One time Brer Fox managed to shout back, “If I got him down, who got hold of me?”

But Brer Rabbit just yelled, “Hold ’im down, Brer Fox! You got him now! Hold ’im down!”

The Horse started kicking with his hind legs and Brer Fox slid down the tail. The Horse kicked him in the stomach once, twice, three times, and Brer Fox went sailing through the air. It was a week and four days before Brer Fox finally come to earth, which gave him a whole lot of time to realize that Brer Rabbit had bested him again[20].

Brer Rabbit Comes to Dinner

It took Brer Fox a while to recuperate, but that gave him a lot of time to scheme and plan on how he was going to get Brer Rabbit.

The very first day Brer Fox was up and about[21], he sauntered down the road. Coming toward him looking as plump and fat as a Christmas turkey was Brer Rabbit.

“Just a minute there!” Brer Fox said as Brer Rabbit started to walk past without speaking.

“I’m busy,” said Brer Rabbit. “I’m full of fleas today and got to go to town and get some ointment.”

“This won’t take more than a minute,” Brer Fox answered, falling into step beside him.

“All right. What’s on your mind?”

Brer Fox gave a sheepish grin. “Well, Brer Rabbit. I saw Brer Bear yesterday and he said I ought to make friends with you. I felt so bad when he finished with me that I promised I’d make up with you the first chance I got[22].”

Brer Rabbit scratched his head real slow like. “Awright, Brer Fox. I believe Brer Bear got a point. To show you I mean business, why don’t you drop over to the house tomorrow and take supper with me and the family?”

Next day Brer Rabbit helped his wife fix up a big meal of cabbages, roasting ears, and sparrow grass. Long about supper time the children came in the house all excited, hollering, “Here come Brer Fox!”

Brer Rabbit told them to sit down to the table, mind their manners, and be quiet. He wanted everything to be just right. So everybody sat down and waited for Brer Fox to knock on the door. They waited a long time, but no knock came.

“Are you sure that was Brer Fox you saw coming up the road?” he asked his children.

“We sure. He was drooling at the mouth[23].”

No mistake. That was Brer Fox.

Brer Rabbit got out of his chair very quietly and cracked the door open. He peeped one of his eyeballs out. He rolled his eyeballs from one side of the yard to the other until they stopped on a bush that looked like it was growing a fox’s tail. Fox’s tail! Brer Rabbit slammed the door real quick.

Next day Brer Fox sent word by Brer Mink that he had been low-down sick the day before and was sorry he couldn’t come. To make up for it, he’d sho’ be pleased if Brer Rabbit would take supper with him that very same evening.

When the shadows were at their shortest, Brer Rabbit went over to Brer Fox’s. He’d scarcely set one foot on the porch when he heard groaning from inside. He opened the door and saw Brer Fox sitting in his rocking chair, a blanket over his shoulder, looking like Death eating soda crackers in the graveyard. Brer Rabbit looked around and didn’t see any supper on the stove. He did notice the butcher knife and roasting pan on the counter, however.

“Looks like you planning on us having chicken for supper, Brer Fox,” says Brer Rabbit like nothing was wrong[24].

“Sho’ nuf,” says Brer Fox.

“You know what goes good with chicken, Brer Fox?”

“What’s that?”

“Calamus root! Seems like I can’t eat chicken no other way nowadays.” And before Brer Fox could blink, Brer Rabbit was out the door and into the bushes where he hid to see if Brer Fox was sho’ nuf sick.

A minute later Brer Fox come out on the porch looking as healthy as a rat in a tuxedo[25]. Brer Rabbit stuck his head out of the bushes and said, “I leave you some calamus root right here, Brer Fox. You ought to try it with your chicken tonight!”

Brer Fox leaped off the porch and took off after Brer Rabbit, but that rabbit was halfway to Philly-Me-York before Brer Fox’s claws touched the ground. All Brer Fox had for supper that night was an air sandwich.

Brer Rabbit and the Tar Baby

Early one morning, even before Sister Moon had put on her negligee, Brer Fox was up and moving around. He had a glint in his eye, so you know he was up to no good[26].

He mixed up a big batch of tar and made it into the shape of a baby. By the time he finished, Brer Sun was yawning himself awake and peeping one eye over the topside of the earth.

Brer Fox took his Tar Baby down to the road, the very road Brer Rabbit walked along every morning. He sat the Tar Baby in the road, put a hat on it, and then hid in a ditch.

He had scarcely gotten comfortable (as comfortable as one can get in a ditch), before Brer Rabbit came strutting along like he owned the world and was collecting rent from everybody in it.

Seeing the Tar Baby, Brer Rabbit tipped his hat. “Good morning! Nice day, ain’t it? Of course, any day I wake up and find I’m still alive is a nice day far as I’m concerned.” He laughed at his joke, which he thought was pretty good. (Ain’t too bad if I say so myself.)

Tar Baby don’t say a word. Brer Fox stuck his head up out of the ditch, grinning.

“You deaf?” Brer Rabbit asked the Tar Baby. “If you are, I can talk louder.” He yelled, “How you this morning? Nice day, ain’t it?”

Tar Baby still don’t say nothing.

Brer Rabbit was getting kinna annoyed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with this young generation. Didn’t your parents teach you no manners?”

Tar Baby don’t say nothing.

“Well, I reckon I’ll teach you some!” He hauls off and hits the Tar Baby. BIP! And his fist was stuck to the side of the Tar Baby’s face.

“You let me go!” Brer Rabbit yelled. “Let me go or I’ll really pop you one[27].” He twisted and turned, but he couldn’t get loose. “All right! I warned you!” And he smacked the Tar Baby on the other side of its head. BIP! His other fist was stuck.

Brer Rabbit was sho’ nuf mad now. “You turn me loose or I’ll make you wish you’d never been born.” THUNK! He kicked the Tar Baby and his foot was caught. He was cussing and carrying on something terrible and kicked the Tar Baby with the other foot and THUNK! That foot was caught. “You let me go or I’ll butt you with my head.” He butted the Tar Baby under the chin and THUNK! His head was stuck.

Brer Fox sauntered out of the ditch just as cool as the sweat on the side of a glass of ice tea. He looked at Brer Rabbit stuck to the Tar Baby and laughed until he was almost sick.

“Well, I got you now,” Brer Fox said when he was able to catch his breath[28]. “You floppy-eared, pom-pom-tailed good-for-nothing! I guess you know who’s having rabbit for dinner this night!”

Brer Rabbit would’ve turned around and looked at him if he could’ve unstuck his head. Didn’t matter. He heard the drool in Brer Fox’s voice and knew he was in a world of trouble[29].

“You ain’t gon’ be going around through the community raising commotion anymore, Brer Rabbit. And it’s your own fault too. Didn’t nobody tell you to be so friendly with the Tar Baby. You stuck yourself on that Tar Baby without so much as an invitation. There you are and there you’ll be until I get my fire started and my barbecue sauce ready.”

Brer Rabbit always got enough lip for anybody and everybody[30]. He even told God once what He’d done wrong on the third day of Creation. This time, though, Brer Rabbit talked mighty humble. “Well, Brer Fox. No doubt about it. You got me and no point my saying that I would improve my ways[31] if you spared me.”