Friday, November 18, 2011

Courtship of the Portly Mongoose

“Courtship of the Portly Mongoose” is a traditional narrative from the Rhodope Mountain region in Bulgaria.  It was collected in late autumn 1912 by T. T. Llewellyn-Schnubbe, who transcribed the story as related by an elderly peasant living outside the village of Gorovo.  Sometime in early 1914, Llewellyn-Schnubbe translated the story and included it in his manuscript collection Folk Wisdom of the Bulgar Peoples.  Llewellyn-Schnubbe died in Ypres during the First World War, and the collection was never published.  It is currently held by the Historical Manuscripts Division of the Northampton Technical College Library.  The editorial interpolations (in italics) are Llewellyn-Schnubbe’s own.

COURTSHIP OF THE PORTLY MONGOOSE
A mongoose lived in the woods over there, by the big mountain.  He lived in a fine earthen house by a clear stream that ran through the woods.  This mongoose was an industrious fellow, and the land was rich, so by-and-by he had grown portly on whatever it is that mongooses eat.
I think they eat mice and frogs and things.
It is not important what this fellow ate.  What is important is this fellow was a hard worker and life was kind to him and soon he was as portly as you may like.  But this lucky fellow was not content, for he was alone in the world.  He had no wife to keep his fine earthen house, or to sing to him during the long winter nights.
So the portly mongoose set out courting, and first he went calling on young Miss Field Mouse for he had long admired her delicate whiskers and long slender tail.
“Young Miss Field Mouse,” he said, “I am the mongoose who lives by the clear stream that runs through the woods.  The earth is kind and my life is rich in good things, but I am alone.  Come with me and be my wife.  Keep my house by the clear stream and sing to me during the long winter nights.”
“For myself, I would marry you,” replied Miss Field Mouse, “but my father would not be pleased, for he says that a field mouse ought to live in a clean, dry place, and not near a stream.”
“Is it indeed that you father—”
“Hey, are you staring at my tail?  My eyes are up here, asshole.”
“I’m sorry, I just…”
“What?”
            “Is it indeed that your father would be displeased?  It is not that I am so portly?”
            “It is not,” she said.  But she lied, for though her father would have been displeased, the real reason was that she did not wish for a portly husband.

Next, the portly mongoose went calling on young Miss Squirrel, for she was as industrious as he and would keep his house well.
“Young Miss Squirrel,” he said, “I am the mongoose who lives by the clear stream that runs through the woods.  The earth is kind and my life is rich in good things, but I am alone.  Come with me and be my wife.  Keep my house by the clear stream and sing to me during the long winter nights.”
“For myself I would marry you,” she replied, “but my father would not be pleased, for he resents your frequent and vocal criticisms of the European Monetary Union.”
“But surely recent events in Greece and Italy show that my criticisms were not without merit.”
“Foolish mongoose.  It is precisely because your criticisms have proven valid that my father could never accept you.  It is one thing to have a fool for a son-in-law.  It is quite another to have a son-in-law who shows you for a fool.”
“Yet I have said nothing that has not often been said by prominent economists such as Nouriel Roubini.”
“Well there you go—you’ve clearly noticed that my engagement with Nouriel is off.”
“Yeah, what happened with that?  Was that—”
“What?”
“I mean…”
“Is everyone talking about it?”
“Yeah, it’s just, you two seemed so happy together.  Everyone thought you were the perfect couple.”
“Oh really, I don’t—”
“Nobody could understand why you broke it off.  Was that over the European Monetary Union?”
“Well, partly.  I mean, even without all that, things weren’t as good as maybe they looked from outside.”
“…”
“He has mommy issues.  Seriously.”
“Well, so—”
“Look, it’s just not going to work between us”
“But it’s because of my stance on the European Monetary Union, right?  It’s not because I’m portly?”
“No, of course not.  It has nothing to do with that.”  But she lied, for though her father would have been displeased, the real reason was that she did not wish for a portly husband.

Next, the portly mongoose went calling on young Miss Frog, for she was a vigorous swimmer who would face the trials of motherhood with good spirit.
“Young Miss Frog,” he said, “I am the mongoose who lives by the clear stream that runs through the woods.  The earth is kind and my life is rich in good things, but I am alone.  Come with me and be my wife.  Keep my house by the clear stream and sing to me during the long winter nights.
“Yes,” replied Miss Frog, “I will certainly marry you.”
“Your father will not be displeased?”
“Certainly not.  My father will strongly approve the match.”
“And you do not object to a portly husband?”
“Certainly not.  That you are portly shows you are an industrious fellow and the earth has been kind to you.  Our children will eat well and grow.”
So the portly mongoose and young Miss Frog were wed.  The wedding celebration was held by the side of the clear stream, and they received many fine gifts from their families and neighbors.  And when the celebration was finished, the portly mongoose and his bride returned to his fine earthen house, where the portly mongoose ate his new wife.  That is how he stayed so portly.
That is a terrible story.
Fuck you, British man.

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