Old Bony-Legs and Me

Illustration by Anatoly Ivanov

Baba Yaga the Bony-Legged jumped on her mortar, goaded it on with her pestle, swept away her tracks with a broom, and flew in pursuit of the girl.

- From one of several tales titled 'Baba Yaga' collected by Aleksandr Afanas'ev. Translation by Norbert Guterman

We're all products of our upbringing. We're shaped by our parents, the books we read, the cartoons we watched as children, the lessons taught in school, and so on. Sometimes we can trace specific interests or beliefs to a memorable moment or source of inspiration. (In a previous post I wrote about Civil War hero Sarah Emma Edmonds being inspired by the novella Fanny Campbell.) As for myself, I can recall quite vividly when my father bought me a copy of D'Aulaire's Book of Greek Myths. https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/79626.D_Aulaires_Book_of_Greek_Myths

I can remember my love of mythology being kindled as I reread that book so many times that the binding came undone. It was that interest that would shape my life in a multitude of ways, such as inspiring me to join the Junior Classical League and even naming my first child after a figure I first encountered in that book; Ariadne the princess of Crete who solved the puzzle of the labyrinth and became the goddess of the island of Naxos.

Just recently, though, I rediscovered a book from my childhood that I now realize had an impact upon me as profound as the works of Ingri and Edgar Parin d'Aulaire...

I'm not from Russia. To the best of my knowledge I don't have an ounce of Slavic heritage. I never had a Russian nanny telling me stories from the old country or a childhood friend with that sort of heritage either. And yet the folktales of Russia have been lingering on the periphery of my awareness for as long as I can recall. I've always known that you should tread lightly and with extreme courtesy if you should ever find yourself deep in the darkest depths of the forest where the only dwelling is a peculiar hut that stands upon a pair of chicken legs. (I even know the phrase one must use to gain entry to that hut.) I know that one's death can be a tangible item hidden away from the rest of the world. (Voldemort was clearly cribbing notes from Koschei.) My mental image of a "witch" has always involved a mortar and pestle as much as broomsticks and pointy hats. I never questioned this. Although, I would be surprised when I had to explain to someone who Baba Yaga was, I just assumed she was as familiar to everyone with a Western upbringing as Little Red Riding Hood or Cinderella's fairy godmother. I have ended up having to do a lot of explaining... A few years ago (more than I care to count) I co-designed and wrote an adventure board game based on Russian folklore called 'Baba Yaga'*. We even named our little fledgling company 'Chicken Hut Games' in reference to her infamous domicile.

Art by Maryanne Rose Papke

Fast forward many years later and I still have a reputation for being the 'Russian folklore guy' with people sending me links to interesting Baba Yaga-related art or regaling me with tales of their role playing games that use her as an antagonist. Just last month a friend gave me a fantastic enamel pin featuring that hut and the skull-topped fence of bones that surrounds it. (The windows and skulls glow in the dark. It's pretty rad.) Upon seeing the pin my daughter made the connection to one of her picture books and brought it downstairs. Like her namesake using the golden thread to help Theseus find his way through the Labyrinth, the book she produced helped me find my way through the maze of my own past. The book was Lovely Vassilisa by Barbara Cohen with illustrations by Anatoly Ivanov. https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2545699.Lovely_Vassilisa?ac=1&from_search=true

It's a retelling of a Russian folktale where the poor protagonist gets regularly abused by her wicked step-mother and step-sisters. In that way it begins much like Cinderella and it also ends with her marrying a prince, but the central story that involves the heroine serving in the house of the terrifying Baba Yaga is decidedly different.

Illustration by Anatoly Ivanov

The book is a solid introduction to the figure of Baba Yaga. She's a monstrous and terrifying witch, but if you are diligent and courteous, then she might aid you instead of eat you. In fact, there are many hero stories where an encounter with Baba Yaga serves as a waypoint on the main quest; the hero behaves with bravery and is either kind or clever, so the witch is impressed and uses her mystical power or great knowledge to help them complete their journey. Lovely Vassilisa also introduces an assortment of elements often associated with Baba Yaga. There's her trademark home of course, but also the flying mortar, and the fence topped with glowing skulls (in fact, those are a crucial plot point**), and the three horseman who serve her and who represent different times of day.

My revelation, though, came from recognition. This was a book that I had read as a child and had been in the boxes of old books from my parents' home that I had passed on to my kids, but hadn't really looked through since my own childhood. Unlike the D'Aulaire's book, this was a book that I had read as a much younger child and so I didn't have the same clear and distinct memories associated with it. This book was published the same year that I was born and as near as my parents and I can figure, it must have been a gift I received when I was very young. We don't know where it might have come from, our best guess is my mom's sister who now runs a second-hand book store in a small New England town. (It's the sort of store where the books are stacked floor to ceiling and you feel like the outcast kid in an 80's film about to embark on a mystical journey of self-discovery. https://www.yelp.com/biz/stone-soup-books-camden ) What became instantly clear to me was how this book, that I had given no conscious thought to in nigh on 30 years, had had a profound influence on me. This was unquestionably the foundation of my interest in Russian folklore and likely instrumental in the general interest in folklore that I've maintained through my life.

The point of all this is simply to reflect on the sorts of influences we all may have received during those early formative years and consider how they shaped who we are today. If my aunt, or whomever it might have been, hadn't gifted my toddler self that book, I doubt that I'd have quite the same interests now as an adult. What it was about that book in particular that made it have a lasting impression compared to the dozens of other books I had is a question that I'll leave to the literary critics and psychologists.

If you can think of any books, shows, toys, etc. from your very early childhood that you think might have had a lasting influence through your life, please feel free to share them. I'm curious to know.

*The 'Baba Yaga' board game that Richard Hopkins-Lutz, Vitaliy Vladimirov, and I made was only ever self-published in small batches back before crowdfunding was around. It's a game that I'm pretty proud of, especially as it was a large-scale co-operative game before those were really a thing in the gaming world. There are some improvements I'd like to make and maybe someday a new edition will see the light of day (but don't hold your breath).

**When the fire goes out in their home, the wicked step-mother sends Vassilisa out into the forest to ask Baba Yaga for some light. This, of course, being the step-mother's ploy to rid herself of the child as she believes Baba Yaga will simply eat poor defenseless Vassilisa. With the help of a magical doll, her wits, and her good manners, Vassilisa survives a period of servitude with Baba Yaga. In payment for her work, Baba Yaga gifts her with one of the glowing skulls from her fence to be the light that she had sought. When Vassilisa arrives back home, fire shoots out of the skull's eye sockets burning the step-mother and step-sisters to death! A brutal end, but one in keeping with what can be found in many other non-"Disneyfied" versions of classic fairy tales; such as the step-mother and sisters in Cinderella having their eyes pecked out by birds or the queen in Snow White being forced to dance in red-hot iron shoes.

Let's end with the incomparable Ivan Bilibin's depiction of Vassilisa as she leaves the chicken-legged hut behind her and hoists her hard-won glowing skull of flaming death high and heads back home...

May we all have the glowing skulls of flaming death that we need to light our paths through the dark forests of this world.