A Fool's chore: Po Schuchemu Veleniu

In some ways, I'm rather regretting making those martial arts posts (Everybody Wasn't Kung Fu Fighting, parts one and two) so long and all-inclusive; all the fantastic material I could write about from today is totally gone, just because in some sense it's repackaging what happened at some point in the past.

For example:

1) I went to school (don't really write about that, but I tangentially did so in "As Our American Colleges Know");
2) I tried to find somewhere and got lost (Oh, gee, when does that happen to me?);
3) I came home and prepared a blog post (nothing to write about);
4) I went to martial arts (and didn't get lost);
5) I epic failed at martial arts, and at several points looked like a flubbing fish (which is just a variation on a theme);
6) I partnered with someone whose gi-top I kept accidentally pulling open, just because of the nature of the moves (why is this noticeable? Because the guy had a perfect six pack);
7) Lost some toenails (my toenails will forever mark the date as a day of mourning, and grieve the loss of my brave pinky toenails, as well as the injury to my big toe);
8) I finally, finally, FINALLY got to punch things (think I've mentioned it before, and it's not worth a full blog post);
9) Men in their underwear. ALL the men in their underwear. (And it seems like it gets skimpier and clingier every time-- I'm sorry, but it's not my fault that I see this when they're literally lounging around the weights room in nothing but their knickers and it's the only way outside);
10) Went home, and DIDN'T get lost; and
11) Literally oozed through my front door.

Especially now that I've taken a shower (and the exhaustion has finally hit me like the Olympic barbell I smacked my foot into earlier tonight), my first choice would be to crawl into bed... However, I promised myself that I would write this post, and gosh darn it, write it I shall.

JOURNEY INTO THE RUSSIAN FAIRY TALE: My Take on "Po Schuchemu Veleniu"

So, in Russian folklore, they have several typical characters. We Westerners, for example, might already know the legendary "Baba Yaga" (or the lady whose house walks on chicken legs); however, one of the characters less well-known to Americans, (at least as far as I've seen) is Ivan Durak.

Ivan Durak is a lazy, not particularly bright peasant who, through fortune and good luck (and usually more than a bit of magic), manages to always succeed. Another variant of this character is called Emelya; and the story which I am about to relate to you (a la Hyperbole and a Quarter) is the story of Emelya and the schuka.

*Note: All of the photos included are taken from the multfilm "Po shuchemu valeniu", and are by no means original artwork by me or have anything to do with me other than the captions. Now, to get to the story:

Emelya is a lazy peasant boy who was one day ordered to go down to the river in order to fetch some water. Upon pulling out the first bucket of water, he accidentally pulls a schuka out of the water.

(What exactly is a schuka? A schuka is the Russian word for a pike; they have extremely long noses, and are carnivorous.)

How a schuka looks in real life

How they animated the fish in the movie-- not bad.

This schuka is no ordinary schuka, but a magical one; and, speaking in a human voice, the schuka promises Emelya that if he lets her go (the fish was animated by a woman in the movie; don't judge me), she will grant him any wish. All he has to say is "By the magic of the schuka, by what I desire" and then say whatever he wants to happen.

Well, Emelya wouldn't be a durak if he wasn't extremely lazy, and thus his first wish is that the buckets of water that he needed to fill would go home on their own. Thus, the buckets grow legs, and Emelya follows after the buckets as they marched home.

In the movie, they have dogs chasing the buckets; it's a rather funny touch.

Before we continue, I want to quickly explain what a pech' is.

In Russia, as it can get quite cold, there used to be a contraption in old peasant houses called a "pech'". A pech' was a giant oven that you could literally sleep on: on the bottom of the pech', you could cook your food; and on the top, you could put down blankets, and it would be quite warm.

(Being a durak, Emelya practically never leaves the pech'; this will be covered in more detail later.)

Upon reaching home, Emelya crawls up onto the top of the pech', and gazes over at a cage filled with pretty birds.

Why do I bring this up? Because when I first saw this, I thought that the Russians were going to try to out-Disney Disney. Wide-eyed animals are normally a dead giveaway.

Little did I know that this scene with caged birds was actually meant as a segue to the second part of the story, where we get to introduce three new characters:

The tsar (who looks alarmingly similar to the ridiculously rich old guy in "Atlantis");

The tsarevna (though it would be easier to just consider her the princess); and

The foreign prince, who is obviously from France and has an obsession with powdering his face. Seriously, it's like a coping mechanism.

The princess and the foreign prince have just been engaged to each other, and the foreign prince is on his way to meet the princess. All they have of each other is a single photo, his in a golden box, hers in a circular golden frame.

Anyways, flash back to Emelya. Emelya's grandmother tells him to go gather some firewood (probably so that the pech' that he lives on continues to be the source of warmth that it is). Emelya agrees, but rather than, oh, I don't know, do anything himself, he uses the wish to make the sled he'll put the firewood in move on its own.

... and THIS is what happens. Yes, you saw right; this is Emelya destroying someone's home while they're still in it.

Suffice it to say, the sled isn't a very good driver (*cough*), so Emelya has next to no control-- the sled is flying through the snow and hitting everything in its path.

This is quite unfortunate for the prince who is on his way to see the Tsarevna for the first time. One moment, he's gazing at the Tsarevna's portrait and moaning about how beautiful she is;

... the next, he finds himself in THIS awkward position:

Because it only takes 1 Russian sled with a laughing peasant riding  on top of it to take out a French carriage filled with passengers.

As might be obvious by now, the Prince is not particularly pleased by this new development; and, furthermore, his cherished portrait of the Tsarevna is now happily resting on the back of Emelya's cart.

Whoops.

However, the Prince does arrive at court, and purposefully striding in, he presents himself to the Tsar.

Wooing like a boss. It's how French people roll.

The King is rather pleased with the Prince, and soon presents his daughter. Out of nervousness, the Prince powders his face.

Because when in doubt, there is no such thing as too much powder.

The Tsarevna soon enters, the Frenchman is awed by her beauty, and then he completely and utterly butchers the pronunciation of "hello" in Russian. Everyone laughs at his error, and he is momentarily embarrassed.

Why do I bring this up? Because it's really, really depressing when you're watching a movie and there's a scene that looks like it's literally been cut and pasted from your life. I mean, obviously I'm not wooing princesses or anything, but half of my conversations end (or begin) this way.

Meanwhile:

Totally unaffected by the immense amount of destruction he's caused, (that's one resilient cart,) Emelya decides that it's time to be even lazier than he is already being. Using the magic word, he orders his ax to start chopping all the wood on its own:

Because that was totally necessary.

Additionally, it would be far too much work to actually saw down the trees for wood himself; so, Emelya uses the magic words and orders the saw to cut down all the trees for him.

Not trying to complain, but seriously-- worst abuse and/or biggest waste of magical gift ever.

After doing all this grueling work, (*cough*) Emelya takes a look at the portrait of the Tsarevna from when he crashed into the Prince and decides that she is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

And this is the moment where he totally ruins her life.

Emelya uses the magic words in order to wish that the Tsarevna falls in love with him; and, unfortunately for her, his wish comes true.

So, imagine if you will: You're dancing with your new fiance, and things are going fantastically well.

His dancing is a little silly for your tastes, true-- but he's a Frenchman, and what can you expect? At this point, his silly little kicks and compulsive face powdering are even somewhat cute; and things are going so well that you even give him the googly eyes of love.

Behold the googly eyes

Suddenly, BAM! You no longer have any interest in marrying this man, you have deep feelings for someone you've never met, your father is furious because this is a diplomatic union for the sake of your country, the Prince is extremely upset because he's falling in love with you and actually does want this marriage, and all you can do is sit there and cry while saying, "I have no idea what's going on."

However, the Tsarevna's magical new feelings are so strong that she refuses to recant; and for her indolence, she is locked away at the top of a tower (and basically put in prison).

If you can't tell, this is a very high tower, with very little to do.

(I swear that my criticisms of this fairy tale are not meant as a cultural  insult; however, if you really think about it, in this shot where the Tsarevna is spending her time with nothing but pigeons and pining for someone she's never met, she's less pining for Emelya and more pining for a fish. Just saying.)

Furious, the tsar sends his most important/major general out to speak with Emelya, for SOMEHOW they find out that he has access to magical fish wishes and want to talk to him (possibly to make him take the wish back? I missed this part, as I was distracted by the fantastic mustache).

Because the only way to know that someone is an important general is if they have a drummer instructing them how to walk, and a fantastically large and well-shaped mustache.

The general asks Emelya to come speak to the Tsar; however, being happily situated in his normal perch, Emelya says no.

Literally, his reason is because "he's feeling lazy". Doesn't this look like the exact same shot from earlier in the story?

Of course, the General does not take this kindly. A peasant saying no to seeing the Tsar? And saying no to the Tsar's most important general? Just because he's feeling LAZY?

At this point, Emelya decides that it would be a good idea to have the drummer's drumsticks start savagely attacking the General; and several whispered words later, it's done.

Even I have to admit that that's a little bit harsh.

However, the drummer is eventually able to convince Emelya to go speak with the Tsar. Even then, Emelya is too lazy to leave the pech'; he does what any rational person with magical fish wishes would do.

I still don't understand how wishing he could magically be in the palace would have been harder than making his pech' learn how to walk. I'd imagine that would take away all of the warm factor, if you were standing on the warm part and then taking it into the middle of the frigid Russian winter. Also, what's with the chicken???

After many, many stares, Emelya finally rides into the courtyard just in time to see the Tsarevna locked away in the castle window.

Her line here, by the way, is literally, "Oh! It's you!" as this is literally her first time ever setting eyes upon the man she now loves desperately.

Here, the Tsar and the Prince concoct a brilliant idea. Let's have the Tsarevna run to the man that she wants to marry, except put the Prince in front of Emelya!

At first, the plan seems to be working...

but then this happens:

I have to admit, I'm somewhat impressed that she was able to get onto the pech' that fast while wearing that dress-- in the movie, she's on the pech' with Emelya in literally the next shot.

After a goodly amount of cuddling ensues, the Tsarevna giddily climbs down from off the pech' and waves goodbye to her Knight in Magically Fish-Tinted Armor.

Because for Russian Princesses, there's nothing hotter than a peasant boy standing on an oven.

Thus thoroughly rejected, the Prince collapses in the snow, powders his face, and declares war on the Tsar.

He doesn't take rejection very well.

The Tsar is gritting his teeth in anger as the Prince runs off into his carriage (which was apparently no worse for wear after the horrible crash with Emelya's sled), and quickly gathers his army to declare war.

Now, I don't know about you, but it seems to me that it would take a really, REALLY long time to get an entire army (cannons, horses, literally everything) into the middle of Russia, especially in the middle of the Russian winter. This would mean that the Prince had figured that the marriage was not going to work out, and had brought the army along for just such a situation; either that, or it would've been the least romantic wedding gift of all time.

Oh, honey! You brought me an army! And look, it even matches our curtains-- oh, how'd you know I've always wanted one of these?

With the kingdom facing destruction at the hands of a pouting, well-powdered Prince, Emelya decides to be the Knight on Shining Oven and ride to the rescue.

With exactly three minutes left in the film, Emelya finally makes two simple wishes that are actually useful, and singlehandedly defeats the French army:

Wish Number One: All the cannonballs return back to their cannons; and

Wish Number Two: All the French Armies are literally swept away by either brooms or the Russian winter.

Upon seeing Emelya's bravery and worth (which is really all due to one seriously under-appreciated fish), the Tsar asks Emelya if he would like to become a prince. And Emelya says no, because that would be far too much work. The King gives up on life and goes abroad; Emelya marries the Tsarevna; and riding together on the oven, they sail off into the sunset.

What was the point of all this?

Russian fairy tales are very interesting to read, and a lot of points of Russian culture can be teased out from within their characters and plots. For example, why is the durak such a popular national hero? Why is it suddenly okay to ignore the tsar? And why does it not matter that Emelya's desire to marry a girl he had never met nearly caused a massive war?

These are questions far too profound for my mind to answer at the moment; it's 1:30 in the morning, after all, and I started on this as soon as I got back from Judo. However, I hope that I have introduced an element of Russian culture to you in an interesting and entertaining way; and with that, I prepare to reintroduce my face to my pillow.