Ivanoushka the Simpleton

In a kingdom far from ours there was a town ruled by Tsar Pea and his wife, Tsaritsa Carrot. They had wise ministers, rich princes, mighty warriors and ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine ordinary soldiers. Every sort of person lived in that town: honest merchants with long beards, cheerful rogues, foreign traders, pretty girls and plenty of drinkers. Around it, peasants ploughed, sowed, ground flour and traded at market; the narrator also pictures busy taverns.

In one of the villages outside the town stood a poor hut. An old man lived there with his three sons, Thomas, Pakhom and Ivan. The old man was more than clever; he was wise. People said he had once shared a glass of wine with the devil and coaxed many secrets out of him, and afterwards he did such marvels that the neighbours called him a sorcerer. If you were lovesick, he would give you a strange root and your sweetheart would be yours. If something was stolen, he would mutter over a bowl of water and lead a policeman straight to the thief. (You just had to make sure the policeman didn’t steal it next.)

His sons were not his equals. The two older ones were nearly as sharp as he was, and both were married with children. But Ivan, the youngest, was single and thought to be a fool. He couldn’t count to three. All he did was eat, drink, sleep and lie about. Still, he was gentle and good-natured. Ask him for his belt and he would throw in his coat; borrow his mittens and he would press his cap on you too. So people were fond of him and called him Ivanoushka the Simpleton, a nickname the source’s translator associates both with foolishness and with a kind heart.

At last the old man’s time came to die. He called his sons and said, “My children, I am dying, and you must do as I ask. Each of you must come and spend one night at my grave: Thomas the first night, Pakhom the second, and Ivanoushka the third.” The two older sons promised. Ivanoushka didn’t even promise; he just scratched his head.

The old man died and was buried, and at the funeral feast there were pancakes enough for everyone and plenty to wash them down. When the first night came, Thomas was too lazy, or perhaps too scared, to go. “I must get up early to thresh,” he told Ivanoushka. “You go to Father’s grave for me.” “All right,” said Ivanoushka. He took a slice of black bread, lay down on the grave and was soon snoring.

At midnight, as the church clock struck and the wind howled and an owl hooted in the trees, the grave opened and the old man climbed out. “Who’s there?” “Me,” said Ivanoushka. “Well, my dear son, I’ll reward you for doing as you were told.” Then the cocks crowed and the old man sank back into the earth. Ivanoushka went home and climbed onto the warm stove. “What happened?” asked his brothers. “Nothing. I slept all night and now I’m hungry.”

On the second night Pakhom said he was too busy, and again Ivanoushka went, this time with a piece of fish pie. At midnight the wind roared, crows flew over, and the old man came out. “Who’s there?” “Me,” said Ivanoushka. “My beloved son, I won’t forget how obedient you are.” The cocks crowed, the old man went back down, and in the morning Ivanoushka told his brothers that nothing had happened.

On the third night the brothers said, “It’s your turn. Father’s wishes must be obeyed.” “All right,” said Ivanoushka, and off he went in his sheepskin with a pocketful of cookies. At midnight his father came out and asked who was there. “Me,” said Ivanoushka. “My obedient son, now you shall have your reward.” And the old man called out in a mighty voice:

“Bay horse, swift as the wind, come to me when I call, and stand before me like a leaf before the storm!”

At once Ivanoushka saw a horse galloping towards them. The earth shook under its hooves, its eyes shone like stars, and smoke poured from its mouth and ears. It stopped in front of the old man and asked in a human voice, “What do you wish?” The old man crept into the horse’s left ear, and out of the right ear he jumped, washed and dressed and changed into a bold young man. “Listen carefully,” he said. “Son, I give you this horse. And you, my faithful horse, serve my son as you have served me.” The words were hardly spoken when the first cock crowed and the sorcerer dropped back into his grave. Ivanoushka strolled home, stretched out under the icons and snored so loudly that the whole village could hear him. When his brothers asked what had happened, he just waved his hand.

Life went on as before, the two brothers living cleverly and the youngest foolishly, one day just like the next, until one morning brought very different news. Heralds with trumpets were riding all over the country to announce the Tsar’s will. Tsar Pea and Tsaritsa Carrot had one daughter, the Tsarevna Baktriana, heir to the throne. She was so lovely that the sun blushed when she looked at it and the moon hid its face from shyness. Her parents wanted a husband for her who could rule the country, fight bravely, judge wisely and take the throne after them, a husband who was young and handsome and in love with her. The trouble was that she loved nobody. Whoever her father suggested, she said, “I don’t love him.” Whoever her mother suggested, she said, “I don’t like him.”

At last her parents sat her down seriously. “Darling Baktriana, it is time you chose. Ambassadors from kings and princes have worn out our doorstep and drunk our cellars dry, and still nobody pleases you.” “Father, Mother,” said the Tsarevna, “I’m sorry to trouble you, and I want to obey. So let fate decide. Build a tall hall with thirty-two rings, one above another, and a window above them all. I will sit in that window. Invite everyone, tsars and kings and princes and warriors and fine young men. Whoever leaps up through all thirty-two rings, reaches my window and exchanges gold rings with me shall be my husband and your heir.” “It shall be as you wish,” said her parents.

The hall went up in no time, hung with velvet, tasselled with pearls, patterned with gold, with thirty-two rings rising to the window at the top. Messengers went to every king, pigeons flew with orders, and it was announced everywhere that whoever could leap through the rings and exchange rings with the Tsarevna would win her, no matter who he was, tsar or Cossack, prince or a lad with no family or country at all.

On the great day crowds packed the field around the shining hall. The Tsarevna sat high in the window, dressed in velvet and pearls and sparkling with jewels, while the people below roared like the sea. The Tsar and Tsaritsa sat on their throne surrounded by nobles. The suitors rode about whistling and showing off, but when they looked up at the window their hearts sank. One after another they took a run, sprang up and fell back down like stones, and everyone laughed at them.

Ivanoushka’s brothers got ready to go. “Take me with you,” said Ivanoushka. “You fool!” they laughed. “Stay home and mind the chickens.” “All right,” he said, and he went and lay down in the chicken yard. But as soon as they had gone, he walked out into the open fields and called for the bay horse with his father’s words. The horse came running with flames in its eyes and smoke from its nostrils. “What do you wish?” Ivanoushka crept into its left ear and came out of the right ear so handsome that no book has ever described anyone like him. He leapt on its back and touched it with a silk whip, and the horse rose into the air above the dark forests and just below the drifting clouds. It swam across the big rivers and jumped over the small ones, and over hills and mountains too. At the Tsarevna’s hall Ivanoushka flew up like a hawk through thirty rings, missed the last two and was gone like a whirlwind.

“Catch him! Catch him!” yelled the crowd. The Tsar jumped up and the Tsaritsa shrieked. That evening the brothers could talk of nothing but the splendid stranger who had cleared thirty rings. “Brothers, that was me,” said Ivanoushka, who had been home for ages. “Be quiet and don’t make fun of us,” they said.

The next day it all happened again. The brothers told Ivanoushka to stay home and scare the sparrows out of the peas. As soon as they left, he called up the horse, which came with the earth trembling and sparks flying. He went in at one ear and came out more handsome than any hero even in fairy tales. One jump and a mile was behind them, a second and a river was behind them, and with a third they were at the hall. This time he soared past the thirty-first ring, missed only the last and swept off like the wind. Again the crowd shouted, the Tsar leapt up, the Tsaritsa shrieked and the nobles gaped. Again the brothers came home amazed, and again they told Ivanoushka to hush when he said it was him.

On the third day they sent him off to feed the pigs. He fed them, then hurried to the fields and called the horse. This time ponds appeared where it stepped and lakes where its hooves struck the ground. He went into its right ear and came out of the left, handsomer than any girl could dream of, and the horse flew higher than the wind, faster than a swallow. With his silver mail jingling and his fair curls blowing, Ivanoushka reached the hall, struck the horse once more, and up it sprang. He cleared every ring, reached the window, put his arms round the beautiful Tsarevna, kissed her sweet lips and exchanged gold rings with her. Then he stormed away across the fields, scattering everyone in his path. The Tsarevna didn’t mind a bit; she even pressed a diamond star onto his forehead before he went.

“Catch him!” roared the crowd, but he had vanished without a trace. Tsar Pea forgot all his royal dignity, Tsaritsa Carrot screamed louder than ever, and the wise counsellors shook their wise heads in silence. The brothers came home full of it. “Imagine! The Tsarevna has a bridegroom. But who is he, and where is he?” “Brothers, it’s me,” said Ivanoushka, smiling. “Shut up with your ‘me, me’,” they said, and nearly cuffed him.

This time the matter was serious. The Tsar had soldiers ring the town with orders to let everyone in and no one out, and every man had to come to the palace and show his forehead. From early morning the crowds lined up and every forehead was inspected, but none had a star. Dinner time came, and the palace staff were so busy they forgot to lay the tablecloths. When the brothers set off to be inspected, Ivanoushka asked to come, and they teased him about the rag tied round his head. “Did somebody hit you?” “No. I banged my head on the door. The door’s fine, but I’ve got a lump.”

They laughed and went. Soon afterwards Ivanoushka walked straight to the hall where the Tsarevna sat at her window watching for her bridegroom. “Here’s our man!” jeered the guards. “Show us your forehead. Got a star?” Ivanoushka would not. The guards began shouting, the Tsarevna heard the noise and had him brought to her, and there was nothing for it but to unwind the rag. There, in the middle of his forehead, shone the star. The Tsarevna took him by the hand, led him to her father and said, “This is the man fate has chosen to be my husband, your son-in-law and your heir.”

It was too late to object. Ivanoushka married the Tsarevna Baktriana, and the whole court feasted for three days with fine food, generous drink and every kind of entertainment. His brothers were made governors and each was given a village and a house.

A story is quickly told, but life takes time and patience. Once the brothers were rich, they grew proud and boastful. Humble folk didn’t dare look towards their houses, and even nobles had to take off their fur hats in front of them. Some nobles came to the Tsar and said, “Great Tsar, your son-in-law’s brothers are bragging that they know where an apple tree grows with silver leaves and golden apples, and that they will bring it to you.” The Tsar summoned the brothers and ordered them to fetch it. They made every excuse, but he would not listen, and off they rode on fine horses from the royal stables.

Ivanoushka found a lame old nag, climbed on backwards facing its tail and rode out to the open field. There he flung the nag down and shouted, “Crows and magpies, come and get your lunch!” Then he called his own horse, went in at one ear and out the other, and rode east to where the apple tree grew beside silver water on golden sand. He pulled it up by the roots and turned for home. The ride was long, and before he reached the town he pitched a tent with a silver top and lay down to rest.

Along came his brothers, not proud at all now, but gloomy, wondering what they would tell the Tsar. They saw the silver-topped tent and the marvellous tree beside it, peered inside and cried, “It’s our Simpleton!” They woke him and offered three carts of silver for the tree. “It isn’t for sale,” said Ivanoushka, “but you can have it for a price that isn’t too high: one toe from each of your right feet.” The brothers thought it over and agreed. Ivanoushka cut off the toes and gave them the tree, and they carried it to the Tsar, boasting endlessly of their hardships. The Tsar was delighted. He threw a feast with music and drums and gave each of them a town.

The nobles were furious. “There’s nothing so wonderful about an apple tree,” they told the Tsar. “Now those brothers are boasting that they’ll bring you a sow with golden bristles and silver tusks, and her twelve piglets too!” Once more the brothers were ordered off on an impossible errand.

This time Ivanoushka saddled a cow, sat on it backwards and rode out to the field. There he seized the cow by the horns, flung her far across the plain and shouted, “Grey wolves and red foxes, come and get your dinner!” Then he called his horse and rode south. One, two, three, and they were in a dark forest where the golden-bristled sow was rooting about with her twelve piglets behind her. Ivanoushka caught her with a silk rope, popped the piglets into a basket and set off home. Before he reached the town he pitched a tent with a golden top and lay down to rest.

The brothers came by with long faces, saw the sow tied up with a silk rope and the piglets in their basket, looked in the tent and found Ivanoushka again. They woke him and offered three carts of precious stones. “She’s not for trading,” said Ivanoushka, “but if you want her that much, one finger from each right hand will pay for her.” The brothers thought about it for a long time. “Plenty of people manage happily without brains,” they reasoned, “so why not without a finger?” They let him cut off their fingers, took the sow to the Tsar and boasted that they had crossed the blue sea and dark forests and deep sands, starving and thirsty, all to serve him. The Tsar gave the greatest of feasts and made them high-ranking nobles.

The other courtiers sneered. “A pig is still a pig, golden bristles or not. Now those two are boasting they’ll steal you a mare with a golden mane and diamond hooves from the fiery dragon’s stable.” The brothers swore they had never said any such thing, but the Tsar would not listen. “Take all the gold and soldiers you like, but bring me that mare. Do it and your reward will be great. Fail, and you’ll be peasants again.”

Off the brothers went, two miserable heroes with no idea where to go. Ivanoushka hopped on a stick, rode it like a hobby horse out to the field, called his horse and set off for a big island in a faraway land. There, in an iron stable, the fiery dragon guarded the golden-maned mare behind seven heavy doors with seven locks. Ivanoushka travelled for who knows how long until he reached the island. He fought the dragon for three days and killed it on the fourth, then spent three more days breaking the locks. Finally he led out the mare by her golden mane and turned for home.

As usual, before reaching town he pitched a tent, this time with a diamond top, and lay down to rest. The brothers came along at dusk, dreading the Tsar’s anger. Suddenly they heard neighing and felt the ground shake. It was the mare, her golden mane glowing like fire in the half-dark. They woke Ivanoushka and offered him a bushel of precious stones each, and more besides. “She isn’t for trading,” said Ivanoushka, “but I’ll give her to you for your right ears.” This time they didn’t even argue. He cut off their ears, and they led the mare straight to the Tsar. “We crossed seas and mountains,” they boasted. “We fought the fiery dragon, and he bit off our ears and fingers. We felt no fear, only the wish to serve you.” The Tsar heaped gold on them, made them the highest men in the land after himself, and held a feast so big that the cooks were worn out and the cellars nearly emptied.

The Tsar sat on his throne with one brother on his right and the other on his left. Everyone was drinking and merry and buzzing like bees in a hive, when in walked a bold young man, Ivanoushka himself, the very one who had leapt through the thirty-two rings. One brother almost choked on his wine and the other nearly suffocated on a piece of roast swan. They stared at him, wide-eyed and silent.

Ivanoushka bowed to his father-in-law and told the story exactly as it had happened: the apple tree with silver leaves and golden apples, the sow with golden bristles and her twelve piglets, and the mare with the golden mane and diamond hooves. When he had finished, he laid the toes, fingers and ears on the table. “That’s what I got in exchange,” he said.

Tsar Pea flew into a rage and stamped his feet. He had the two brothers chased out with brooms, sent one to herd pigs and the other to mind turkeys, and seated Ivanoushka beside himself, highest of all the high. The feasting went on until everyone was tired of it. Ivanoushka took charge of the kingdom and ruled it wisely and firmly, and when his father-in-law died, he became tsar. His people loved him, he had many children, and his beautiful Tsaritsa Baktriana stayed beautiful for the rest of her life.

Where this tale comes from

“Ivanoushka the Simpleton” is the fourth tale in Verra Xenophontovna Kalamatiano de Blumenthal’s Folk Tales from the Russian (Project Gutenberg #12851) and one of the longest in the book. Blumenthal explains that the nickname means a fool but “at the same time it carries the idea of a kind heart.” Her tsar and tsaritsa are named Pea and Carrot, a playful folk touch. Her notes describe the icons under which Ivanoushka sleeps as the holy pictures hung in the corner of a Russian home.

Blumenthal keeps the old man’s rhyming spell for calling the horse. Here it is paraphrased. The brothers’ grisly payments of toes, fingers and ears are hers too, and so is the moment when Ivanoushka lays them out before the Tsar as proof.

Read the original: Verra Xenophontovna Kalamatiano de Blumenthal, Folk Tales from the Russian (Project Gutenberg #12851)

For older readers: a father rising from his grave, animals violently discarded, a dragon killed and repeated mutilation of the brothers. Ivanoushka’s early generosity does not make his later conduct harmless.

Reading the story closely

The father’s three nights and the princess’s three contests reward persistence, but the later three quests complicate the generous-fool pattern. Ivanoushka helps his brothers only for bodily payments. The courtiers also invent boasts to provoke the tsar into sending them away. Make a separate list of what each brother actually says and what other people claim they have said; rivalry at court helps create the danger.

Recognition changes across the tale. Ivanoushka repeatedly tells the truth about the leaps and is dismissed; a star on his forehead finally convinces the court. Later, the severed body parts expose the brothers’ claim to have won the treasures themselves. Compare these two kinds of proof and their cost. The evidence establishes who obtained the treasures, but it cannot establish that mutilation or the mistreatment of animals was justified.

Talk about it

• Why does Ivanoushka agree to sit at his father’s grave on all three nights?
• Why do you think Ivanoushka keeps telling his brothers ‘That was me’ when he knows they won’t believe him?
• Was it fair for Ivanoushka to ask for toes, fingers and ears? What does the bargain show about all three brothers?

More stories like this

• Seven Simeons — another long Blumenthal tale with a tsar, impossible tasks and remarkable brothers
• The Firebird, the Horse of Power, and Princess Vasilisa — a magic horse helps a young man through a tsar’s tasks
• The Tsarevna Frog — a youngest son wins a royal bride in another Russian tale