VINTAGE TALES FROM AROUND THE WORLD

THE OLD WOMAN AGAINST THE STREAM (Norway🇧🇻)

Norway is a country located in the Scandinavian region, known for its stunning mountains, glaciers, and deep coastal fjords. Oslo, the capital city, is famous for its green spaces and museums. The Viking Ship Museum in Oslo displays well-preserved 9th-century Viking ships. Bergen is a city with colorful wooden houses and is the starting point for cruises to the dramatic Sognefjord. Norway is also popular for activities such as fishing, hiking, and skiing, with Lillehammer's Olympic resort being a notable destination for skiing enthusiasts. The capital of Norway is Oslo.

The Old Woman against the Stream is a Norwegian folktale that was published by Asbjørnsen and Moe in the 1871 edition of Norwegian folktales. The storyline portrays a man who has a wife who is very stubborn and always contradicts him, no matter what he says. In the story, they are arguing about whether to reap or clip the field. The woman insists that the field should be clipped, while the man threatens her with both words and deeds. Eventually, he ends up drowning her in the river. When he goes to look for her, intending to bury her in "hallowed ground," he finds that her body has drifted, not downstream, but countercurrent, past the waterfalls. Thus, the stubborn old woman is forever remembered as "the wife against the stream." The story may seem bizarre and morbid to modern audiences, but it is a part of Norwegian folklore.

This phrase has become a concept in the Norwegian language. Although she is initially portrayed as an unpleasant character in the tale, she has recently been viewed as a woman who stands up against her dominating husband. This has led many people to consider her as a nonconformist, a feminist, and a heroine in Norwegian culture. As a result, the term "jarring mot strØmmen" is often used positively to describe someone who is determined and manages to achieve their goals despite facing challenges. Norwegian author André Bjerke was so intrigued by this woman that he wrote a special poem about her. In the poem's final verse, he highlights her stubbornness and tenacity as admirable qualities.

Let's read ;

There was once a man who had an old wife, and she was so cross and contrary that she was hard to get along with. The man didn't get along with her at all.

Whatever he wanted, she always wanted the very opposite. Now one Sunday in late summer, it happened that the man and the wife went out to see how the crop was getting along. When they came to a field on the other side of the river, the man said, "Well, now it's ripe. Tomorrow we'll have to start reaping."
"Yes, tomorrow we can start to clip it," said the old woman.

"What's that? Shall we clip? Aren't we going to be allowed to reap either?" now said the man.

"Oh, clip it they should," the old woman insisted. "There's nothing worse than knowing too little," said the man, "but this you certainly must have lost what little wits you had. Have you ever seen one clip the crop?"

"Little do I know, and little do I care to know," said the old woman, "but this I know to be sure: the crop is going to be clipped and not reaped!" There was nothing more to be said. Clip it they should, and that was that.

So they walked back, wrangling and quarreling, until they came to a bridge over the river, just by a deep pool.

"It's an old saying," said the man, "that good tools do good work. But I dare say that'll be a queer harvest which they clip with sheep shears!" he said. "Shan't we are you allowed to reap the crop at all, now?"

"Nay, nay! Clip, clip, clip!" shrieked the old woman, hopping up and down, and snipping at the man's nose with her fingers. But in her fury, she didn't look where she was going, and she tripped over the end of a post on the bridge and tumbled into the river.

"Old ways are hard to mend," thought the man, "but it'd be nice if I were right for once, me too."
He waded out into the pool and caught hold of the old woman's topknot just when her head was barely above the water. "Well, are we going to reap the field?" he said.

"No, no, no - clip, clip, clip!" cried the woman, jumping up, her fingers snapping for her husband's nose. In her anger, however, she forgot to mind where she put her feet, and so she tripped and fell into the river. "Old habits are hard to break," thought the man, "but it would be odd if I wasn't right sometimes too." He waded into the river and dragged her head to the surface by the hair. "Are we going to reap the field or not?" "Clip, clip, clip!" cried the woman.

"I'll teach you to clip," thought the man, and ducked her under the water. But that wasn't of much use. "They must clip it," she said, as he brought her to the surface again. "I do believe the woman is crazy," said the man to himself. "Many are mad and don't know it, and many have sense and don't use it; but I must try once more, anyhow," said he. But no sooner had he ducked her under again than she held her hand above the water and began to clip with her fingers, like a pair of shears. Then the man got furious and kept her under so long that her hand all of a sudden fell underwater, and the woman became so heavy that he had to let go of his hold. "If you want to drag me down into the pool with you, you may lie there, you wretch!" said the man. And so he did.

Shortly thereafter, however,
he came to think that it
would be a shame for her not
to be buried in Christian soil,
and went down to the river to
look for her. But no matter
how much he searched, she
was nowhere to be found.
"This is no use," the man
said. "That woman was
something else. While she
was alive, opinionated, and
difficult, then why should she
be any different even now? I'll
go look for her further up by
the waterfalls, perhaps she
has floated countercurrent."

And sure enough, there she
was. The wife against the
stream.

Source : A Norwegian Folktale by Peter Christen Asbjørnsen

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