Commentary: Mother Holle
The most well-known version of this story was collected by the Brothers Grimm and published in their 1812 Children’s and Household Tales. It was first told to them by, Henrietta Dorothea Wild[1] (who later married Wilhelm Grimm). It has since been included in a number of anthologies, and the oral telling of the tale persists in parts of Germany, most notably Hesse.
Despite the continuing popularity of this fairy tale, it’s difficult to trace its origins. Etymology suggests a link to Norse mythology, in particular the goddesses Frigg and Hel. This will be discussed further below.
Classification and Variations
Like our earlier tale, Kate Crackernuts, Mother Holle is a ‘tale of kind and unkind girls[2]’. Unlike Kate Crackernuts, however, there are several extant variations on Mother Holle. In the Pentamerone, Basile tells of Cicella and Grannizia in The Three Fairies; the Grimms’ collected Three Little Men in the Wood, also in Andrew Lang’s Red Fairy Book; Hans Christian Andersen’s The Snow Queen; and The Old Witch, in Joseph Jacobs’ More English Fairy Tales. Sometimes it is known as Frau Holle, or Mother Hulda--even Grandmother Winter.
For a reversal of the kind grandmother role, see Hansel and Gretel, and some of the Baba Yaga tales.
Symbolism
Depending on the perspective, Mother Holle can be considered both rich and poor in symbolism. Here, we will focus on only a few possible elements: spindle; apples; bread; and rooster.
Spindle
The spindle has long been a symbol of domesticity—spinning is a woman’s province and, in earlier times, one of the few ways in which poorer women could support themselves. The distaff and drop spindle are also symbols of the Nordic goddess Frigg, who has been linked with Mother Holle (we will discuss this more below).
Why does the beautiful girl jump in the well? Ostensibly, it’s because her stepmother has ordered her to fetch the spindle she has dropped. And why has she dropped it? Because she has bled upon the spindle, then attempted to wash it clean[3]. Now, I don’t want to get into the sexual symbolism of fairy tales—it’s a tricky area to navigate, and I’ve never been much for psychology, but, In this context, it’s likely the bloody spindle is representative of the girl’s entering menses, i.e. of the girl reaching sexual maturity. Why is this important?
Let us consider the situation for a moment: the beautiful girl has been kept in reduced circumstances for the better part of her life; she is afraid of her stepmother; and now she has dropped a spindle and expects punishment from the aforementioned stepmother. Considering this, why doesn’t she run away? We know she is industrious and hard-working, we know she is skilled, we know she is kind-hearted and beautiful. Any one set of these qualities assures of her work elsewhere and yet the idea of leaving never enters the beautiful girl’s head.
Why?
Because she’s unready. The blood on the spindle is the reason she leaps into the well beginning her transformation, the catalyst for change. Running away accomplishes nothing—the girl would remain the same, dependent creature she has always been.
Bread
In her journey throughout the well-world, the beautiful girl encounters an oven full of bread, begging to be taken from the oven.
Like Persephone, the beautiful girl has been carried away to an underworld to bide her time. In fairy tales—consider Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, and Cinderella—this time of hibernation is the unconscious period in which the heroine gathers the necessary information and energy she needs to move into a new stage in her life.
Bread is an old, old symbol of domesticity and fertility. Until recent times, bread was made in house. And by whom? Wives. Mothers. Here is a test of the girl’s domestic skill, and her readiness for keeping a household of her own.
Finally, the girl’s encounter with the oven and, later, the apple tree, is a call to the girl’s compassion. In some stories the heroine helps inanimate objects on her way; on her return, said objects protect her from the giant, witch, or other creature in pursuit. These stories are somewhat unknown to most people—perhaps more familiar are the talking animal set in which the protagonist helps a colony of ants, a fish, a hive of bees[4], or some other distressed creature.
Apples
Now taken for granted in most parts of the world apples have, at times, been considered quite precious. In the UK, they were believed to be fruit of the good folk; the fabled Isle of Avalon is actually the Isle of Apples. It was also believed that harming an apple tree caused offense to the fairies and, as such, brought ill fortune, while apple blossoms have been thought to bring good luck to a new marriage.
Apples are also featured in a variety of myths, most notably: the Biblical story of Adam and Eve[5]; in Greek mythology, golden apples were much sought after and, indirectly, the cause of the Trojan War; and in Teutonic mythology it is associated with beauty and youthfulness. Most relevant to this story, though, is Nordic mythology, in which apples were sacred, and oftentimes buried with the dead (see discussion of Hel and Nehalennia below).
How does all this relate to our story? Like the encounter with the bread, the apple tree is asking for the beautiful’s girls compassion. But the fruit, like the girl herself, is in a stage of transition . Finally, apples are sacred and associated with death—the girl is in, for all intents and purposes, an underworld and one part of her life is dying, falling away.
Interestingly, apple trees are heterozygous—that is to say that, like people, the seeds give rise a new individual, rather than a clone of the parent ; mayhap the tree is representative of motherhood, fertility, and childhood.
Rooster
The presence of the rooster is one of the stranger elements of Mother Holle. Its role is unclear, though Maria Tatar suggests that it is symbolic of the recognition of a male. Perhaps the original setup of the story—stepmother and two daughters—did not allow for a male figure, and the rooster acts as substitute.
Princesses—the role of the heroine
In Basile’s The Three Fairies, Cicella and Grannizia are differentiated only by their appearance. Sometimes, as in the Grimms’ version of Mother Holle, the beautiful sister is also the better person, though this is by no means always the case. So what is it about fairy tales and beauty? Why is the heroine always the most beautiful girl, but not always the cleverest or the bravest or the kindest?
First, let us consider the motivations within a fairy tale: why does the heroine do what she does? What are her reasons? Oftentimes, nothing of note—she wants a singing, springing lark, she wishes to test a suitor, she wants to seek her fortune. But what about the individual reasons? Why is the heroine the way she is? What about her upbringing? Does she like white roses or red? Is she a shoe girl, or is she more into embroidery?
Although there is a current trend toward exploring such individual fairy tale motivations (see Shannon Hale, Book Of A Thousand Days, The Goose Girl, or Gregory MacGuire’s The Ugly Stepsister for examples), fairy tales tend to play on archetypes, letting readers sketch in the appropriate motivation as needed. In this way, they possess cross-cultural appeal: anyone can read about the heroine and make the appropriate assumptions. But where does this leave us in terms of beauty?
Because fairy tales are working within a given set of rules, they play to what we, as humans, expect: outer beauty is a reflection of inner beauty, outer ugliness is a reflection of inner ugliness. In short, the beautiful girl always wins.
But there is still more: the beautiful girl is a peasant, is she not? Yes. Like Cinderella, Beauty, and the lesser-known Rose Red, the heroine is a poor girl, with little save her beauty and good heart to her name. But how then does she always contrive to marry the prince? (Even in Mother Holle, where there is no prince figure, the gold showered upon the beautiful girl indicates that a good marriage is the logical conclusion to the girl’s story.)
Interestingly, fairy tales often equate beauty with nobility—a beautiful girl is, in essence, a born princess, a girl with all the qualities cherished by princes and peasants alike. Mother Holle’s function, aside from helping the girl transition into womanhood, is to bring her born rank in line with her economic one[6]. In some cases, this is accomplished in tandem with marrying the prince.
Mythology
Nehalennia
A goddess known around what is now Zeeland and the Netherlands, Nehalennia worship peaked circa the second and third centuries C.E. She may have been a regional goddess, though sources differ.
It appears that she was a goddess of travellers and, possibly, domestic duties. According to Hilda Davidson:
Nehalennia, a Germanic goddess worshipped at the point where travellers crossed the North Sea from the Netherlands, is shown on many carved stones holding loaves and apples like a Mother Goddess, sometimes with a prow of a ship beside her, but also frequently with an attendant dog which sits looking up at her...[7]
As previously discussed, apples and bread both have life and fertility symbolism. Bread is a symbol of the fecundity of the earth, and even the process of making it, of loading, baking, and unloading can be linked to the process of copulation, pregnancy, and child birth.
In his Teutonic Mythology, Jacob Grimm discusses the possible origins of the name Nehalennia, noting that:
In inscriptions found on the lower part of the Rhine there are compounds, whose termination (-nehis, -nehabus, dat. plurals fem.) seems to contain the same word that forms the first half of Nehalennia; their plural number appears to indicate nymphs rather than a goddess, yet there also hangs about them the notion of a mother.[8]
In the Rhineland, the suffix –ennia may denote the role of a triple goddess (see more on matrones), though it is possible the suffix originates elsewhere. From both a proto-Celtic and proto-Germanic view, it is possible that the name has ties to destructive forces and, mayhap, the underworld.
So here we have some interesting parallels to our story—like Mother Holle, Nehalennia can be seen as a mother goddess; a goddess who helps guide travellers and, perhaps transition; a goddess of the underworld and so possibly associated with change and seasons; and her symbols are loaves and apples, such as the beautiful girl encounters in the meadow. Does this mean that Nehalennia and Mother Holle are one in the same? No. But the information presented above is certainly an interesting study and perhaps one worth considering. It is important to remember, however, that the etymology of the name Nehalennia is uncertain, and that there are many possible roots. As such, it is unwise to draw conclusions from etymology and phoenetic comparison alone.
Hel
Hel, a Nordic goddess of the underworld, has long been linked with Mother Holle, and there is an etymological connection between her name, Hel, and the German word for hell, Hollë. Interestingly, the word Hel is derived from a Proto-Germanic word meaning ‘one who covers up or hides something’, as Mother Holle covers the earth with her blanket of snow. An interesting aside: from an earlier Indo-European root, both Hel and Holle are related to the English word for the underworld, hell.
Although Nordic mythology describes her as a monster, half alive half dead, the bringer if disease, in Nordic mythology, Germanic mythology represents Hel as an almost maternal figure, a goddess of death and transformation[9].
Hel, a maternal figure in her underworld, is an interesting shade of Demeter and Persephone. The underworld, oft associated with winter, can also be linked to old age and change. It is in winter that the world sleeps, readying for the new spring. Like the earth in winter, like Persephone, the beautiful maiden 'sleeps' in the underworld, unconsciously preparing herself as she sweeps and cleans and shakes out Mother Holle's coverlet.
Hulda/ Frau Holda
Another name for Mother Holle, Mother Hulda[10] is seemingly derived from the Germanic goddess Hulda, a kind goddess, patroness and guardian of maidens, yet also the goddess of marriage, This is entirely fitting with the story of our mistreated but beautiful girl and her journey through the well’s meadow: beginning as a maiden she is protected by Mother Holle/Mother Hulda, who also ushers her forward into the next stage of her transformation, the next stage of her life i.e. marriage[11].
In The Living Goddesses, Marija Giambutas discusses Hulda as a triple goddess, i.e. maiden, mother, and crone, a goddess of the transformations in a woman’s life, sometimes known as the Dark Grandmother and the White Lady. Her lore says that she lives in the bottom of a well, first taught the art of spinning flax to linen, and has control over the weather—dominion over sunshine, snow, and rain.
Holla is set before us as a spinning-wife; the cultivation of flax is assigned to her. Industrious maids she presents with spindles, and spins with reels full for them over night; a slothful spinner's distaff she sets on fire, or soils it. The girl whose spindle dropt into her fountain, she rewarded bountifully....The Greeks put spindle and distaff in the hands of several goddesses, especially Artemis and her mother Leto, but also Athene, Amphitrite and the Nereids. All this fits in with Holda, who is a goddess of the chase (the wild host), and of water-springs.[12]
Like Artemis, Hulda is the White Lady, associated with the hunt and the maiden, a protective goddess, and sometimes vengeful one. She, too, is a guardian to protect and aid the beautiful girl of our story. And, like Mother Holle, both goddesses despise the idle, the slothful. But, where Artemis is depicted as beautiful in most renderings,
…Hulda, instead of her divine shape, assumes the appearance of an ugly old woman, long-nosed, big-toothed, with bristling and thick-matted hair. 'He's had a jaunt with Holle,' they say of a man whose hair sticks up in tangled disorder…[13]
This old woman is likely Hulda in her crone phase; the ‘jaunt with Holle’ supports this idea, for, to paraphrase Joan Gould, old women are arguably the most comfortable with the idea of sex, and, thereby, the self. And who better than a woman (or goddess) comfortable in her own skin to guide the transformation of others?
So what does all this suggest about our fairy tale? Is it likely that Mother Holle, Hulda, Holda, and Hel are one in the same?
For this reader, the etymological similarities discussed provided an interesting, though weak link, but the province of the goddesses mentioned, coupled with parts of their lore and worship are highly suggestive of the idea that Mother Holle is indeed derived from these, or, at least, similar sources.
Frigg
Frigg, like Hlodyn (Hel) is married to Odin, and is a maternal goddess, ruling over areas such as: fertility, love, and domestic arts. Perhaps most interesting though, is that Frigg is associated with the spinning of wool and is a sky goddess. In fact, Orion’s Belt has been called Frigg’s Distaff, and, as shown above, she spun the clouds. And, like Artemis and Hulda, Frigg takes part in the hunt, (though she is usually accompanied by Odin).
As mentioned earlier, Frigg was a maternal goddess; like Hulda and Mother Holle, she is associated transformation, and credited with helping women birth children.
Although the spindle was discussed in the first part of this commentary, the recurring theme throughout this discussion of goddesses has brought it back to the fore. The idea of spinning and weaving in mythology is an old one—consider the Greek Fates weaving destiny. As such, for goddesses of transformation and change, the spindle is a particularly appropriate symbol—not only can it be tied to weaving a life’s journey, but also to creation. Through the art of spinning we create the threads we need to create fabric, stuff. Without spinning, there is no clothing, no blankets, no rope, no mattresses to stuff, even no toy for a child to cuddle in her sleep. Spinning was also a womanly art, and even the primary function for many German housewives. And so it easy to imagine that as the beautiful girl bled upon the spindle, she may have prayed to Frigg, or Hulda, or even Mother Holle (remember that the girl is fearful of Mother Holle’s appearance, but not surprised by Mother Holle herself).
In his Tetuonic Mythology, Jacob Grimm says:
Then her special care of flax and spinning…leads us directly to the. Frigg, Odin's wife, whose being melts into the notion of an earth-goddess…[14]
Isn’t an earth goddess the ultimate maternal goddess? The ultimate goddess of change and transition? And, as an earth goddess, the astute reader will consider the possible link between Frigg, Demeter, the seasons, Persephone, and the underworld.
Considering the material discussed above, lines of influence are easily drawn between Frigg, Hulda, and Mother Holle. That said, it is important to remember that although these are intriguing lines of study, there are many more facts to be considered, and, at this point, we are more standing at the edge of the precipice enjoying the view, than wading through the depths of jungle below.
The past four days of commentary have been in no way exhaustive, but I hope they have provided some useful insight with regard to certain fairy tale tropes. The symbolism inherent in the elements of the story--including, but not limited to the apples, the spindle, and the bread--is a fascinating study in and of itself, but, coupled with the idea of Mother Holle's origins, this story is an excellent example of the importance and relevance of fairy tales in both the modern world and the human psyche.
Footnotes:
[1] Paradiz, Clever Maids: The Secret History of the Grimm Fairy Tales
[2] Tatar, The Annotated Brothers Grimm, p. 128
[3] See also the role of the spindle in Sleeping Beauty.
[4] See The Queen Bee, Children’s and Household Tales, Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm.
[5] Familiar strains of apples, like the red delicious, are the product of grafted trees.
[6] Tatar, The Annotated Brothers Grimm, p. 131.
[7] Davidson, Roles of the Northern Goddesses.
[8] Grimm, Teutonic Mythology, Chapter 13.
[9]Another such goddesses is the widely misunderstood Kali of Hindu belief.
[10]Hulda has also been linked with Hertha, goddess of peace and fertility, and another name for Hloydn (also called Jord) in the Edda (Poems and Tales of Norse Mythology).
[11]It is important to remember that, in fairy tales, all maidens wish to be married, and all women wish to have children. Though this may not be the case in today’s world, it is necessary for us to take these values for the sake of meaningful analysis and commentary.
[12] Grimm, Teutonic Mythology, Chapter 13.
[13] ibid.
[14] Grimm, Jacob, Teutonic Mythology, Chapter 13.
References:
Alexander, Marc, The Sutton Companion to Folklore, Myths and Customs in Britain, Sutton Publishing, 2006.
Davidson, Hilda, Roles of the Northern Goddesses, Routledge and Kegan Paul,1998.
Gimbutas, Marija, The Living Goddesses, Berkeley: University of California Press, 2001.
Gould, Joan, Spinning Straw Into Gold: What Fairy Tales Reveal About The Transformations In A Woman’s Life, Random House Trade Paperbacks, 2006.
Grimm, Jacob, Teutonic Mythology, Chapter 13, online version provided by Northvegr, http://www.northvegr.org/lore/grimmst/index.php
Hamilton, Edith, Mythology (New Ed.), Back Bay Books, 1998.Paradiz, Valerie, Clever Maids: The Secret History of The Grimm Fairy Tales, Basic Books, 2005.
Leeming, David, The Oxford Companion To World Mythology, Oxford University Press USA, 2005.
Ragan, Kathleen (ed.) Fearless Girls, Wise Women, and Beloved Sisters: Heroines in Folktales from Around the World, W.W. Norton and Company, 2000.
Tatar, Maria, The Annotated Brothers Grimm, W.W. Norton and Company, 2004.
Zipes, Jack, et al., The Complete Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm All-New Third Edition, Bantam, 2003.