The Red Shoes - Andersen

["Karen L. Newcombe" <kln@crl.com>]

The Red Shoes - 
Hans Christian Andersen

There was once a little girl.  She was a tiny delicate little thing, 
but she always had to go about barefoot in summer, because she was 
very poor. In winter she had only a pair of heavy wooden shoes, and 
her ankles were terribly chafed.

An old mother shoemaker lived in the middle of the village, and she made
a pair of little shoes out of some strips of red cloth.  They were very
clumsy, but they were made with the best intention, for the little girl
was to have them.  Her name was Karen.

These shoes were given to her, and she wore them for the first time on 
the day her mother was buried.  They were certainly not mourning shoes,
but she had no others, and so she walked barelegged in them behind the
poor pine coffin.

Just then a big carriage drove by, and a big old lady was seated in it. 
She looked at the little girl and felt very, very sorry for her, and
said to the parson, "Give the little girl to me and I will look after
her and be kind to her."  Karen thought it was all because of the red
shoes, but the old lady said they were hideous, and they were burnt. 
Karen was well and neatly dressed, and had to learn reading and sewing. 
People said she was pretty, but her mirror said, "You are more than
pretty.  You are lovely!"

At this time the Queen was taking a journey through the country, 
and she had her little daughter the Princess with her.  The people, and 
among them Karen, crowded round the palace where they were staying, to 
see them.  The little Princess stood at a window to show herself.  She 
wore neither a train nor a golden crown, but she was dressed all in white 
with a beautiful pair of red morocco shoes.  They were indeed a contrast 
to those the poor old mother had made for Karen.  Nothing in the world 
could be compared to these red shoes.

The time came when Karen was old enough to be confirmed.  She had new 
clothes and she was also to have a pair of new shoes.  The rich shoemaker 
in the town was to take the measure of her little foot.  His shop was 
full of glass cases of the most charming shoes and shinyleather boots.  
They looked beautiful but the old lady could not seev ery well, so it 
gave her no pleasure to look at them.  Among all the other shoes there 
was one pair of red shoes like those worn by the Princess.  Oh, how 
pretty they were!  The shoemaker told them that they had been made for an 
earl's daughter, but they had not fitted.  "I suppose they are patent 
leather," said the old lady.  "They are so shiny."

"Yes, they do shine," said Karen, who tried them on.  They fitted and were
bought, but the old lady had not the least idea that they were red,or she
would never have allowed Karen to wear them for her confirmation. This she
did however. 

Everyone looked at her feet,and when she walked up the church to the chancel
she thought that even the old pictures, those portraits of dead and gone
priests and their wives, with stiff collars and long black clothes,
fixed their eyes upon her shoes.  She thought of nothing else when the 
minister laid his hand upon her head and spoke to her of holy baptism, 
the covenant of God, and said that henceforth she was to be
a responsible Christian person.  The solemn notes of the organ
resounded,the children sang with their sweet voices, and the old precentor
sang,but Karen thought only about her red shoes. 

By the afternoon the old lady had been told on all sides that the
shoes were red, and she said it was very naughty and most improper.  For
the future, whenever Karen went to the church she was to wear black
ones,even if they were old.  Next Sunday there was holy communion, and
Karen was to receive it for the first time.  She looked at the black shoes
and then at the red ones.  Then she looked again at the red shoes and
at last put them on. 

It was beautiful sunny weather.  Karen and the old lady went by the
path through the cornfield, and it was rather dusty.  By the church
door stood an old soldier with a crutch.  He had a curious long beard; it
was more red than white -- in fact it was alm ost quite red.  He bend down
to the ground and asked the old lady if he might dust her shoes.  Karen
put out her little foot too.  "See what beautiful dancing shoes!" said
the soldier.  "Mind you stick fast when you dance." And as he spoke
he struck the soles with his hand.  The old lady gave the soldier a
copper and went into the church with Karen.  All the people in the
church looked at Karen's red shoes, and all the portraits looked too. 
When Karen knelt at the altar rails and the chalice was put to her lips,
she thought only of the red shoes.  She seemed to see them floating
before her eyes.  She forgot to join in the hymn of praise, and she forgot
to say the Lord's Prayer. 

Now everybody left the church, and the old lady got into her carriage.
Karen lifted her foot to get in after her, but just then the old
soldier,who was still standing there, said, "See what pretty dancing
shoes!" Karen couldn't help it: she took a few d ancing steps, and when
she began her feet continued to dance.  It was just as if the shoes had a
power over them.  She danced right round the church.  She couldn't stop. 
The coachman had to run after her, take hold of her, and lift her into
the carriage; but her feet continued to dance, so that she kicked the 
poor lady horribly.  At last they got the shoes off and her feet had a 
little rest.

When they got home the shoes were put away in a cupboard, but Karen could
not help going to look at them. 

The old lady became very ill.  They said she could not live.  She had to be
carefully nursed and tended, and no one was nearer than Karen to do this. 
But there was to be a grand ball in the town and Karen was invited.  She
looked at the old lady, who aft er all could not live. Then she looked at
the red shoes -- she thought there was no harm in doing so.  She put on
the red shoes -- that much she thought she might do -- and then she went to
the ball and began to dance.  The shoes would not let her do what she liked:
when she wanted to go to the right, they danced to the left.  When she 
wanted to dance up the room, the shoes danced down the room, and then 
down the stairs, through the streets and out of the town gate.  Away she 
danced, and away she had to dance, right into the dark forest.  Something 
shone up above the trees and she thought it was the moon, for it was a 
face, but it was the old soldier with the red beard.  He nodded and said, 
"See what pretty dancing shoes! "

This frightened her terribly and she wanted to throw off the red shoes,but
they stuck fast.  She tore off her stockings, but the shoes had grown fast
to her feet.  So off she danced, and off she had to dance, over fields and
meadows, in rain and sunshine , by day and by night, but at night it was
fearful. 

She danced into the open churchyard, but the dead did not join her dance;
they had something much better to do.  She wanted to sit down on a pauper's
grave where the bitter wormwood grew, but there was no rest nor repast for
her.  When she danced towards the open church door, she saw an angel
standing there in long white robes and wings which reached from his
shoulders to the ground.  His face was grave and stern, and in his hand he
held a broad and shining sword. 

"Dance you shall!" said he. "You shall dance in your red shoes till you
are pale and cold.  Till your skin shrivels up and you are a skeleton! You
shall dance from door to door, and wherever you find proud vain children,
you must knock at the door so that they may see you and fear you.  Yea, 
you shall dance --"

"Mercy!" shrieked Karen, but she did not hear the angel's answer, for the
shoes bore her through the gate into the fields, and over roadways and
paths.  Ever and ever she was forced to dance. 

One morning she danced past a door she knew well.  She heard the sound of a
hymn from within, and a coffin covered with flowers was being carried out. 
Then she knew that the old lady was dead, and it seemed to her that she was
forsaken by all the world and cursed by the holy angels of God. 

On and ever on she danced.  Dance she must, even through the dark nights. 
The shoes bore her away over briars and stubble till her feet were torn and
bleeding. She danced away over the heath till she came to a little lonely
house.  She knew the executioner lived here, and she tapped with her
fingers on the windowpane and said, "Come out! Come out! I can't come in
for I am dancing!"

The executioner said, "You can't know who I am? I chop the bad
people's heads off, and I see that my ax is quivering."

"Don't chop off my head," said Karen, "for then I can never repent of
my sins.  But pray, chop off my feet with the red shoes!"

Then he made her a pair of wooden feet and crutches, and he taught her
a psalm, the one penitents always sing.  And she kissed the hand which
had wielded the ax and went away over the heath. 

"I have suffered enough for those red shoes!" said she.  "I will go to the
church now, so that they may see me." And she went as fast as she could to
the church door.  When she got there, the red shoes danced right up in
front of her, and she was frighte ned and went home again. 

She was very sad all the week and shed many bitter tears, but when Sunday
came she said, "Now then, I have suffered and struggled long enough.  I
should think I am quite as good as many who sit holding their heads so high
in church."

She went along quite boldly, but she did not get further than the
gate before she saw the red shoes dancing in front of her.  She was
more frightened than ever and turned back, this time with real repentance
in her heart.  Then she went to the parson's ho use and begged to be
taken into service.  She would be very industrious and work as hard as
she could.  She didn't care what wages they gave her, if only she might
have a roof over her head and live among kind people.  The parson's wife
was sorry for her, and took her into service.  She proved to be
very industrious and thoughtful.  She sat very still and listened
most attentively in the evening when the parson read the Bible.  All
the little ones were very fond of her, but when they chattered about finer
and dress and about being as beautiful as a queen, she would shake
her head. 

Next Sunday they all went to church and they asked her if she would go with
them, but she looked sadly, with tears in her eyes, at her crutches.  And
they went without her to hear the word of God, while she sat in her little
room alone.  It was only big e nough for a bed and a chair.  She sat there
with her prayer book in her hand, and as she read it with a humble mind she
heard the notes of the organ, borne from the church by the wind.  She
raised her tear-stained face and said, "Oh, God help me!"

Then the sun shone brightly round her, and the angel in the white
robeswhom she has seen that night at the church door stood before her.  He
nolonger held the sharp sword in his hand, but a beautiful green
branchcovered with roses.  He touched the ceil ing with it and it rose to
agreat height, and wherever he touched it a golden star appeared.  Thenhe
touched the walls and they spread themselves out, and she saw and heard the
organ.  She saw the pictures of the old parsons and their wives.  The
congregation were all sitting in their seats singing aloud -- for the
church itself had come home to the poor girl in her narrow little chamber,
or else she had been taken to it.  She found herself on the bench with the
other people from the parsonage.  And whe n the hymn had come to an end,
they looked up and nodded to her and said, "It was a good thing you came
after all, little Karen!"

"It was through God's mercy!" she said.  The organ sounded and the 
children's voices echoed so sweetly through the choir.  The warm sunshine
streamed brightly in through the window,right up to the bench where Karen
sat.  Her heart was so overfilled with the sunshine, with peace, and with
joy, that it broke.  Her soul flew with the sunshine to heaven, and no one
there asked about the red shoes. 
-----

Well, o best beloved, there you have it.  Karen, by the way, is the
Danish form of Catherine.  

Perhaps we can prevail on Professor Manchester to give us some background
on the morality lessons that were laid over old folk tales during the
Victorian era to make them suitable for frightening small children
into piety and virtue.  Plenty of mythological material here.  Note
similarities to Little Red Riding Hood -- another old story that was
appropriated for the purpose of expounding a moral lesson.

Hope you enjoyed it nontheless!

Karen Newcombe  kln@crl.com  Almost Hallow E'en!  "Soon it will be
the phase of the moon when people tune in . . ."