The Tale of Minerva and The Spider
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twispiteficTitle: The Tale of Minerva and The Spider
Author: albion_witch
Fandom: Feminist Fairytales
Word Count: 835
Inspiration: Chapter 13 “The Weaver” as well as Walker’s distorted ideas about child abuse
Summary: An abused young woman finds help from an unlikely source. Originally posted in the LiveJournal comments.
There once was a widow and her daughter. Though the widow must have loved her child once in the past, she grew contemptuous of her daughter's maturing beauty and skill in the textile arts. She kept her away from the eyes of potential suitors and had her work as a servant, keeping her in rags. If a neighbor boy had dared to meet eyes with the daughter, the widow would chase him with a broom and beat her daughter for good measure. The daughter, Minerva, had only her knitting in her bare room for her joy.
One day, a spider fell into a pitcher of water. Having pity for it, Minerva fished it out and laid it on a sock to dry. Revived, the spider gave its thanks and offered to help her in any way. Not surprised that the spider could talk- she heard of beasts blessed with human speech, Minerva watched it crawled up into the eaves out of sight.
One day, the widow came to Minerva and threw a freshly killed goose in front of her.
"A man is coming to visit in a few days," the widow said. "Strip it of its feathers and hang it. If I find even one maggot on it, you will be beaten, you lazy wretch!"
Minerva did as she was told, but when it came time to hang the goose, flies began to swarm about her. Despite her swatting at them, they still came. Shen then spied the spider and cried, "little spider, weave your webs and catch these flies."
No sooner than she asked, the spider began to work its silk into shining nets that snared the flies. Minerva was able to hang the goose without being molested and when the day came for the widow's guest to arrive, not a single maggot could be found. Minerva cooked the goose, but was sent away to her room before the guest arrived.
Up in her room, Minerva was knitting when the widow came in and threw a pair of silk stockings at her.
"My guest ripped his stockings. If you don't get these mended in an hour, I will beat you, you lazy wretch!"
Minerva looked at the delicate stockings and her own supply of rough woolen threads. Then the spider climbed down from the eaves and looked at her with its many eyes.
"Little spider," Minerva said, "I don't suppose you can spin the silk I need to mend these stockings."
The spider climbed up and ate the webs that it used to catch the flies. It then pointed at an empty spool. Minerva gave it to the spider and the spider began to spin. In a minute, it filled the spool with shimmering thread and dropped it into Minerva's hand. It was surprisingly strong for its delicate weight, only yielding to Minerva's shears. She threaded a needle and mended the stockings before the hour was up.
The widow came in and inspected the stockings, which could be mistaken for brand-new. She left Minerva back to her knitting. It hadn't been a few hours when the widow came in and dragged Minerva out by the wrist.
"My guest wants to take a look at you," the widow said. "He'll need someone to warm his bed tonight. If you please him, you might just get some money for us for a change."
The widow presented Minerva to her guest, a great bear of a man, who was all hands on her and yet Minerva knew if she even squeaked, the widow would beat her. The guest grunted his approval and the widow sent Minerva back to her room to clean up. Minerva looked up at the eaves and cried, "little spider, I don't think you can save me from the fate they have in store for me."
The spider floated down and sat on her shoulder. "Just leave it to me," it said before it climbed back up to the eaves.
Cleaning herself up and gathering her spare possessions into a bundle, Minerva readied herself to make a mad dash to the door. She reckoned that while she wasn't very strong, her mother and the guest weren't fast. She heard the turning of the key. She steeled herself for when the door opened. When it did, there was no one. Venturing out of her room, Minerva walked downstairs to the remains of a feast. She gathered as many scraps she could carry, grabbed the widow's purse, and went to the door, the spider sitting on the knob.
"Where are they?" Minerva asked.
"Not in a position to hurt you anymore," the spider replied.
"Will you come with me?"
"No, my debt is paid. Besides, I nor my children will be wanting for food here."
Minerva didn't say a word but nodded her head as she walked out to make her way into the world. The spider climbed back up into the eaves where a large pair of silk-wrapped bodies hanged and had itself some supper.
Author: albion_witch
Fandom: Feminist Fairytales
Word Count: 835
Inspiration: Chapter 13 “The Weaver” as well as Walker’s distorted ideas about child abuse
Summary: An abused young woman finds help from an unlikely source. Originally posted in the LiveJournal comments.
There once was a widow and her daughter. Though the widow must have loved her child once in the past, she grew contemptuous of her daughter's maturing beauty and skill in the textile arts. She kept her away from the eyes of potential suitors and had her work as a servant, keeping her in rags. If a neighbor boy had dared to meet eyes with the daughter, the widow would chase him with a broom and beat her daughter for good measure. The daughter, Minerva, had only her knitting in her bare room for her joy.
One day, a spider fell into a pitcher of water. Having pity for it, Minerva fished it out and laid it on a sock to dry. Revived, the spider gave its thanks and offered to help her in any way. Not surprised that the spider could talk- she heard of beasts blessed with human speech, Minerva watched it crawled up into the eaves out of sight.
One day, the widow came to Minerva and threw a freshly killed goose in front of her.
"A man is coming to visit in a few days," the widow said. "Strip it of its feathers and hang it. If I find even one maggot on it, you will be beaten, you lazy wretch!"
Minerva did as she was told, but when it came time to hang the goose, flies began to swarm about her. Despite her swatting at them, they still came. Shen then spied the spider and cried, "little spider, weave your webs and catch these flies."
No sooner than she asked, the spider began to work its silk into shining nets that snared the flies. Minerva was able to hang the goose without being molested and when the day came for the widow's guest to arrive, not a single maggot could be found. Minerva cooked the goose, but was sent away to her room before the guest arrived.
Up in her room, Minerva was knitting when the widow came in and threw a pair of silk stockings at her.
"My guest ripped his stockings. If you don't get these mended in an hour, I will beat you, you lazy wretch!"
Minerva looked at the delicate stockings and her own supply of rough woolen threads. Then the spider climbed down from the eaves and looked at her with its many eyes.
"Little spider," Minerva said, "I don't suppose you can spin the silk I need to mend these stockings."
The spider climbed up and ate the webs that it used to catch the flies. It then pointed at an empty spool. Minerva gave it to the spider and the spider began to spin. In a minute, it filled the spool with shimmering thread and dropped it into Minerva's hand. It was surprisingly strong for its delicate weight, only yielding to Minerva's shears. She threaded a needle and mended the stockings before the hour was up.
The widow came in and inspected the stockings, which could be mistaken for brand-new. She left Minerva back to her knitting. It hadn't been a few hours when the widow came in and dragged Minerva out by the wrist.
"My guest wants to take a look at you," the widow said. "He'll need someone to warm his bed tonight. If you please him, you might just get some money for us for a change."
The widow presented Minerva to her guest, a great bear of a man, who was all hands on her and yet Minerva knew if she even squeaked, the widow would beat her. The guest grunted his approval and the widow sent Minerva back to her room to clean up. Minerva looked up at the eaves and cried, "little spider, I don't think you can save me from the fate they have in store for me."
The spider floated down and sat on her shoulder. "Just leave it to me," it said before it climbed back up to the eaves.
Cleaning herself up and gathering her spare possessions into a bundle, Minerva readied herself to make a mad dash to the door. She reckoned that while she wasn't very strong, her mother and the guest weren't fast. She heard the turning of the key. She steeled herself for when the door opened. When it did, there was no one. Venturing out of her room, Minerva walked downstairs to the remains of a feast. She gathered as many scraps she could carry, grabbed the widow's purse, and went to the door, the spider sitting on the knob.
"Where are they?" Minerva asked.
"Not in a position to hurt you anymore," the spider replied.
"Will you come with me?"
"No, my debt is paid. Besides, I nor my children will be wanting for food here."
Minerva didn't say a word but nodded her head as she walked out to make her way into the world. The spider climbed back up into the eaves where a large pair of silk-wrapped bodies hanged and had itself some supper.
no subject
Date: 2017-08-24 06:47 pm (UTC)