Russian Magic Tales from Pushkin to Platonov (Penguin Classics) (43 page)

Platonov’s courage and endurance were remarkable. These
skazki
were written after he had been diagnosed with the tuberculosis he had caught from his son and from which he himself would die in January 1951. It is unlikely that he intended it as such, but the following paragraph about a plane tree, written in 1934, now seems to be a description of Platonov himself: ‘Zarrin-Tadzh sat on one of the plane tree’s roots ( … ) and noticed that stones were growing high on the trunk. During its spring floods, the river must have flung mountain stones at the very heart of the plane, but the tree had consumed these vast stones into its body, encircled them with patient bark, made them something it could live with, endured them into its own self, and gone on growing further, meekly lifting up as it grew taller what should have destroyed it.’

Once there was a peasant who lived in a village with his wife and three daughters. The daughters grew bigger and he and his wife grew older – until the day came when it was the wife’s turn to die. The man was left to bring up his daughters alone. All three were beautiful, and each as beautiful as the others, but they were different in nature.

The old man was well off and he cherished his daughters. He wanted to find some lonely old widow or other to look after the household, but Maryushka, the youngest daughter, said, ‘Father, there’s no need to find an old widow. I can look after the home on my own.’

Maryushka was diligent and hard-working. The two elder daughters, for their part, said nothing.

And so Maryushka took the place of her mother. She knew how to do everything, and she did everything well. And if there was any task she couldn’t do, she was quick to get used to it – and in no time at all she would be doing this task well too. Her father watched; he was glad that his daughter was so clever, obedient and hard working. She was beautiful, too – and her kindness made her yet more beautiful. Her sisters were also beautiful, but they never thought they were beautiful enough, and they were always trying to add to their beauty with pink powders and white powders and all kinds of new outfits. Often they spent a whole day trying to make themselves prettier – but, come evening, they still looked the same as they had in the morning. They’d realize they’d wasted a whole day and got through whole pots of powders without becoming any the prettier and they would get crosser and crosser. As for Maryushka,
she would be tired out – but then she knew that she’d fed the livestock and cleaned and tidied the hut, that she’d cooked the supper and kneaded the dough for tomorrow’s bread and that her father would be pleased with her. She would look at her sisters with kind eyes and not say a word. This made her sisters crosser still. They thought that Maryushka had not looked like this in the morning, that she had grown prettier during the day – only they couldn’t understand how.

One day the father had to go to market. He said to his daughters, ‘Well, children, what shall I buy you? What can I get to make you happy?’

The eldest daughter said, ‘Buy me a shawl, Father, one with big flowers embroidered on it in gold.’

‘You can buy me a shawl, too, Father,’ said the middle daughter, ‘one with big flowers embroidered on it in gold and with red in between the flowers. And buy me some tall boots as well, with soft calves and with dainty high heels that tap on the ground.’

This upset the eldest daughter. Her heart was greedy. She said to her father, ‘And buy the same for me, Father. Yes, buy me some tall boots with soft calves and dainty high heels that tap on the ground. And buy me a ring too – buy me a ring with a precious stone to put on my finger. After all, I’m your only eldest daughter.’

The father promised to buy everything that his two elder daughters required. Then he said to his youngest daughter, ‘Maryushka, why aren’t you saying anything?’

‘I don’t need anything, Father. I never leave the house. I don’t need any fine clothes.’

‘Maryushka, don’t say such things! How can I leave you out? I can’t not get you a fairing.’

‘I don’t need a fairing,’ said the youngest daughter. ‘But, dear Father, buy me a feather of Finist the Bright Falcon, if it’s not expensive.’

The father rode off to market. He bought all the presents his elder daughters required, but nowhere could he find a feather of Finist the Bright Falcon.

‘No,’ the merchants all said, ‘nothing of the kind exists. There’s no demand.’

The father did not want to upset his clever, hard-working youngest daughter, but what could he do? Back home he went – without having bought a feather of Finist the Bright Falcon.

But Maryushka was not upset at all.

‘Never mind, Father,’ she said. ‘You’ll be going to market again – one day you’ll find yourself buying me my feather!’

Time passed – and the father needed to go to market again. He asked his daughters what presents they wanted; he was a kind and good father.

The eldest daughter said, ‘Last time, Father, you brought me some little boots. Now you must get the blacksmiths to heel them with little horse-shoes.’

The middle daughter heard her sister and said, ‘And do the same for me, Father. Else the heels just tap on the ground. I want them to ring. And so I don’t lose the little nails from the horse-shoes, buy me a little silver hammer so I can hammer them in.’

‘And what shall I buy you, Maryushka?’

‘Have a look round, Father. See if you can find a feather of Finist the Bright Falcon.’

The old man rode off to the market. He soon finished his business and bought his two elder daughters their presents. Then he looked for Maryushka’s feather. He looked and looked. He looked till nightfall, but the feather was nowhere to be found. No one was selling it.

Again he came back with no present for his youngest daughter. He felt sorry for Maryushka, but she just smiled at her father. She was happy simply to be seeing her dear father again.

Once again the time came for the father to go to the market.

‘Well, dear daughters, what gifts would you like me to buy you?’

The eldest daughter thought and thought, but she couldn’t think what she wanted. ‘Father!’ she said. ‘Buy me something!’

The middle daughter said, ‘Buy me something too, Father, and then buy me something else on top of that something.’

‘What about you, Maryushka?’

‘Just buy me a feather of Finist the Bright Falcon, Father.’

The old man rode off to the market. He finished his business and bought his two elder daughters their presents. But he didn’t
buy anything for his youngest daughter. Nowhere in the market was there any such feather.

On his way home the father saw someone walking along the road. It was an old old man, even older than he was – an ancient old man.

‘Greetings, Grandad!’

‘Greetings, my friend! Why are you looking so sad?’

‘How can I not look sad? My daughter keeps asking me to buy her a feather of Finist the Bright Falcon. I’ve searched and searched, but it’s nowhere to be found. And it’s for my youngest daughter, the one I cherish most of all.’

The old old man thought for a while – and then said, ‘Well, so be it!’

He untied his knapsack and took out from it a little box.

‘Keep the box somewhere safe,’ he said. ‘Inside it is a feather from Finist the Bright Falcon. Now then, don’t forget my words: I have a son, and I cherish him as you cherish your daughter. It’s time he got married, but he doesn’t want to marry and I can’t force him. And he keeps saying, “If anyone asks for this little feather, give it to them. She who asks for this feather will be my bride.” ’

The old old man came to the end of his words – and suddenly he wasn’t there any more. He had vanished. Had he ever really been there at all?

Maryushka’s father was left with the feather. It was a grey and ordinary little feather, but nowhere had he been able to buy it. The father remembered what the old old man had said and thought, ‘Well, it seems this will be my Maryushka’s fate: to marry an unknown stranger – a man she’s never known and never seen.’

The father returned home. He gave the elder daughters their presents, and he gave his youngest daughter the little box with the little grey feather.

The elder daughters put on their fine dresses and began to make fun of their sister. ‘Stick that sparrow’s feather into your hair,’ they said, ‘and you’ll find you look fairer than fair!’

Maryushka did not say a word, but when everyone had lain down to sleep, she took the plain, grey feather of Finist the
Bright Falcon, placed it on the table in front of her and sat down to wonder at it. Then she picked the little feather up in her hands, held it for a while to her breast, stroked it and inadvertently dropped it onto the floor.

Straight away someone knocked at the window. The window opened, and in flew Finist the Bright Falcon. He flew down to touch the floor – and turned into a handsome young man. Maryushka closed the window, and she and her young man began talking their talk. When it was nearly morning, she opened the window. The young man bowed down to touch the floor – and turned into a bright falcon. The falcon left one little plain grey feather as a keepsake and flew off into the blue sky.

Three nights Maryushka welcomed the falcon. All day he flew about the sky, over fields and forests, over mountains and oceans; towards evening he flew to his Maryushka and turned into a handsome young man.

The fourth night the elder sisters heard Maryushka’s quiet voice. They also heard the voice of a strange young man. In the morning they asked, ‘Well, sister, who is it you talk to at nights?’

‘I say a few words to myself,’ Maryushka answered. ‘I have no friends and I work all day. There’s no time to talk. In the evenings I talk to myself a little.’

The elder sisters listened to their younger sister and did not believe her. They said to their father, ‘Father, our Marya’s got herself a young man. They see each other at night and talk to each other. We’ve heard them.’

‘You shouldn’t be listening,’ said the father. ‘Why shouldn’t our Maryushka have a young man? There’s nothing wrong in that. She’s a pretty girl, and she’s of the right age. Very soon it will be your turn too.’

‘But it’s my turn now. I’m older than Marya and I should be marrying first. Marya hasn’t waited her turn – she shouldn’t have found her betrothed before me.’

‘True enough,’ agreed the father. ‘But fate’s fate – what does fate know about turns? One girl stays an old maid to the end of her days, while another is courted by everyone.’

So the father spoke, but as he spoke he was thinking, ‘Could
it be that the words of the old old man who gave me the feather are coming true now? Maybe they are, and maybe it’s no bad thing – I just pray fate has sent her a good man!’

But the two elder daughters had wishes of their own. Towards evening they took some knives from the kitchen, pulled off the handles and went into Maryushka’s room. Then they stuck these knives, together with some sharp needles and bits of old glass, around the frame of the window. Maryushka was out in the shed just then, looking after the cow, and she didn’t see any of this.

And then, when it was dark, Finist the Bright Falcon flew down to Maryushka’s window. He flew to the window – and struck against the sharp knives and needles and slivers of glass. He struggled and struggled and tore open all his chest. But Maryushka was worn out from her day’s work and she’d dozed off while she was waiting for Finist the Bright Falcon. She didn’t hear him beating his wings in the window.

Then Finist said in a loud voice, ‘Goodbye, my fair maiden! If you need me, you will find me, even though I am far away! But on your way to me you will wear out three pairs of iron shoes, you will wear down three iron staffs against the wayside grass and you will gnaw your way through three stone loaves.’
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Maryushka heard Finist’s words through her sleep, but she was unable to awake or get to her feet. Only the following morning did she awake, and then her heart filled with grief. She looked at the window – and there was Finist’s blood, drying in the sun. Then she began to weep. She opened the window and buried her face in the spot where she could see the blood of Finist-Falcon. Her tears washed away the falcon’s blood, and she herself – as if she had washed in the blood of her betrothed – grew still more beautiful.

Maryushka went to her father and said, ‘Don’t be angry with me, Father – but give me leave to set out on a distant path. If I stay alive, we’ll see each other again. But if I die, then that’s how it was fated.’

The father didn’t want to give his dearest, youngest daughter leave to set off who knows where. But how could he keep her
at home against her will? He knew that a girl’s loving heart is more powerful than the will of a mother or father. He bid his beloved daughter farewell.

The blacksmith forged Maryushka three pairs of iron shoes and three iron staffs. She took three stone loaves. Then she bowed to her father and her sisters, paid a last visit to her mother’s grave and set off in search of Finist the Bright Falcon.

Maryushka walked and walked. She followed her long path for more than a day, more than two days, more than three days. She walked for a long time. She walked through open steppe and dark forests. She crossed high mountains. Birds sang songs to her in the fields; the dark forests treated her kindly; from high up in the mountains she wondered at the whole world. She walked so far that she wore out one pair of iron shoes and one of her iron staffs. She had gnawed her way through a whole stone loaf, but there was still no end to her path. Nowhere was there any sign of Finist the Bright Falcon.

Maryushka let out a sigh, sat down on the ground and was just putting on her second pair of iron shoes when she saw a little hut in the forest. Night had already fallen.

Maryushka said to herself, ‘I’ll go into that little hut and ask if they have seen my Finist the Bright Falcon.’

Maryushka knocked at the hut. In it lived an old woman. Whether she was kind or wicked Maryushka did not know. The old woman opened the door. Before her stood a beautiful young maiden.

‘Grandmother, let me stay the night with you!’