A young girl loses her mother, and her father marries the stepmother from hell. Sound familiar? But this version of Cinderella has everyone’s favorite villain: Baba Yaga. It’s also filled with bizarre characters including a magical talking doll, and it has a happily ever after to beat them all.
In the analysis section, Nicholas Kotar introduces the idea of moral imagination and talks about how good stories help cultivate it in the heart of both children and adults. He also discusses how yes, in some cases, stories can be very dangerous for you indeed…
Vasilissa the Beautiful
In a certain Kingdom, in a certain land, there lived a merchant. For twenty years, he lived together with his wife, but they only had one child, a daughter, Vasilissa the Beautiful. When her mother died, Vasilissa was only eight years old. As she lay dying, the merchant’s wife called Vasilissa to her side, pulled out a doll from under her coverlet, and gave it to her.
She said, “Listen, my dear little Vasilissa! Remember my final words, and make sure to do what I say. I am dying. But with my parental blessing, I’m leaving you this doll. Always keep it with you and never show it to anyone, and if anything bad should ever happen to you, feed the doll with some food and ask her advice. She’ll eat ,and then she’ll tell you how to overcome your troubles.”
Then she kissed her daughter, and died.
After she died ,the merchant grieved for a while, as was proper, but soon he started to think once again about marrying. He was a good man, and so there was no lack of brides to choose from. But more than any others, he liked a certain widow. She was no longer young and had two daughters of her own. And he thought that she would make a good housekeeper and mother both.
The merchant married the widow, but he made a mistake. She made neither a good housekeeper nor a mother for his Vasilissa. Vasilissa was the most beautiful girl in the village, and her stepmother and stepsisters envied her beauty. And so, they thought up of all kinds of work for her to do, so that she would become as skinny as a reed from all the overwork, so that her skin would become rough and blackened by the constant sun.
But Vasilissa never complained ,and instead of losing her beauty, she only became more and more rosy-cheeked and fuller and fuller in her figure, while the stepmother and stepsisters became thinner and uglier by the day from their anger, in spite of the fact that they sat around all day like noblewomen, doing nothing.
But how could that be, do you ask? Vasilissa had help… from her doll. Without her doll, the girl would never have been able to deal with all the work! But for all that, Vasilissa made sure to go without food herself if need be, but always made sure to feed her doll. Then, every evening, as soon as everyone went to sleep, she’s lock herself in a closet–that’s where she lived now–and fed her doll, saying, “Here, dolly, eat a little bit, but make sure to hear my sorrow. I live in my own father’s house, but I have no joy here. My evil stepmother is trying to drive off this beautiful earth. Tell me what to do and how to live.”
The doll would eat a little bit, then she would give her advice and console Vasilissa, and while Vasilissa slept she would do all her work for her. It was good to live with dolly.
A few years passed. Vasilissa grew up and reached marriageable age. All the grooms in the town came to ask for her hand, while not a one of them so much as looked on the stepmother’s ugly daughters. The stepmother got even angrier, if that were possible, and answered all the young men: “I will not give my youngest away before the elders!” And as she let the young man out, she took her anger out on Vasilissa by beating her.
One day, the merchant had to leave home for a long time. His wife moved to an entirely different house, which bordered the dark forest. There were rumors that deep in that forest stood a clearing, and in the clearing stood a hut, while in the hut lived Baba Yaga. They said she let no one near her, and ate people like people eat chicken. The stepmother started to send Vasilissa more and more often into the forest on various silly errands, but Vasilissa always came back alive. The doll would always show her the right path, and never led her near Baba Yaga’s hut.
And so, autumn came. The stepmother gave work to all her daughters. One of them had to weave lace, the other darn socks, while Vasilissa was put on the spinning wheel. She told them all what to do, blew out all the lamps, and left only a single candle in the working room. Then she went to sleep.
The girls worked. The candle started to flicker because of a bad wick. One of the girls took some scissors to cut the wick, but instead, she put the candle out. It seemed to be by accident, but actually ,she had been told to do it by her mother.
“What will we do now?” the girls said. “There’s no fire anywhere in the house, but we haven’t finished our work! Someone will have to go get fire from Baba Yaga!”
The first girl quickly said, “I won’t go, I can see by the light of the moon as it reflects off my needles.”
The second girl quickly answered, “I won’t go either, I can see by the light of the stars as they reflect on my darning needle.”
And both of them turned on Vasilissa: “You have to go! Go and get fire from Baba Yaga!”
Vasilissa went into her closet, put her own dinner in front of the doll, and said, “Here you go, dolly, eat my dinner and listen to my sorrow. They’re sending me out to get fire from Baba Yaga! She’ll eat me!”
The doll ate her dinner, and her eyes sparkled like two candles.
“Don’t be afraid, Vasilissa!” she answered. “Go on, only keep me with you always. Nothing will happen to you ,even at Baba Yaga’s.”
Vasilissa gathered her things, put the doll in her pocket, and crossed herself. Then she went into the dark, terrifying forest. She walked and walked, shivering from the cold. Suddenly, right in front of her, a rider on a horse rode by. He was all in white, the horse under him was white, and the harness on the horse was white too. As soon as he passed, daylight began to appear.
She walked on, when suddenly another rider rode in front of her–he was all read, dressed in red, and astride a red horse. He rode by, and the sun began to rise.
All night Vasilissa walked, and all the day after that. Only toward the next evening did she reach the clearing where Baba Yaga’s hut stood. It hid behind a fence made of human bones, and each stake was covered with a skull. Instead of gates, the hut had human feet, and instead of a latch, it had human hands. Instead of a lock, it had a mouth with sharp teeth.
Vasilissa froze in place from utter terror, unable to move. Suddenly, another ride rode by her–he was all in black on a black horse. He rode up to the gates of Baba Yaga, then he disappeared as though he fell into the earth itself. And night fell.
But the darkness didn’t last long–all the skulls had glowing eyes, and the clearing became bright as day again. Vasilissa was still shaking from fear, but not knowing where to go, remained in place.
Suddenly, a terrible noise was heard all over the forest. The trees creaked, the dry leaves crunched, and Baba Yaga arrived from the forest. She sat in her mortar, hurrying herself along with her pestle, brushing away her tracks with a broom. She stopped at her gate and gave a great sniff.
“Foo! Foo! It smells of Russian stink! Who’s here?”
Vasilissa screwed up her courage and came up to Baba Yaga, bowing deeply to the ground, and said, “It’s me, grandmother! My stepmother’s daughters sent me to get fire from you.”
“Very well,” said Baba Yaga. “I know those girls. Come and live with me for a bit, and do some work for me. Then I’ll give you some fire. But if not, then I’ll eat you.”
Then she turned to her gates and exclaimed, “Hey, my strong latches, unlock yourselves! Hey my wide gates, open wide!”
The gates opened and Baba Yaga rode in, whistling all the while. Vasilissa came in after her, and everything closed up again. As she walked into her living room, Baba Yaga stretched out, yawned, and said to Vasilissa,
“Come and give me whatever food’s in the stove. I’m hungry!”
Vasilissa lit a chip of wood from one of the skulls on the fence and began to pull all the food out of the stove, and there was enough there for ten people at least. From the cellar, she brought out kvass, mead, bear, and wine. The old woman ate everything, then drank everything. She only left Vasilissa a bit of soup, a tiny piece of bread, and some bits of pork.
Baba Yaga lay down on the stove-top and said, “When I leave tomorrow, make sure to clean the yard, sweep the hut, make lunch, wash all the laundry, then go take a quarter of all my wheat from the granary and husk it. If you don’t’ do all of that, I’ll eat you when I get back.”
After saying this, Baba Yaga fell asleep and began to snore. But Vasilissa took all of the old woman’s leavings and put them in front of her doll as her eyes filled with tears.
“Here, dolly, have my dinner and listen to my sorrow. Baba Yaga gave me so much work, but if I don’t finish it, she says she’ll eat me! Help me!”
The doll answered, “Don’t’ be afraid, Vasilissa the Beautiful. Come, eat, say your prayer, and lie down to sleep. The morning is wiser than the evening.”
Vasilissa woke up before the sun, but Baba Yaga was already up. The glowing eyes of the skulls were fading already, and the white rider rode by. Then, day broke. Baba Yaga came outside and whistles, and her mortar and pestles appeared before her. The red rider rode by, and the sun rose. Baba Yaga sat in her mortar and flew off, hurrying herself along with her pestle, and brushing away her tracks with a broom.
Vasilissa was left alone. She started looking around the hut, and was amazed at how big it was, how many wonderful things it had inside it. Where would she even begin her work? But then, she realized that everything was done! Even as she looked, the doll was finishing husking the last bit of wheat.
“Oh, my little savior!” said Vasilissa. “You’ve saved me from certain doom!”
“All you have left to do is lunch,” said the doll. Go ahead and make lunch, then take a much-deserved rest.”
By evening, Vasilissa prepared a gorgeous dinner and sat there, waiting for Baba Yaga. As soon as the black rider rode by, darkness fell, then the skulls’ eyes started to glow. The trees creaked, the leaves crunched, and here comes Baba Yaga. Vasilissa came out to greet her.
“Is everything done?” asked Baba Yaga.
“Come and see, grandmother!” said Vasilissa.
Baba Yaga looked around, grumbled a bit, because she had nothing to get mad at, and then she croaked, “My faithful servants, friends of my heart, grind my wheat!”
Three pairs of hands appeared, grabbed the wheat and carried it away. Baba Yaga ate her fill, lay down of the stovetop and once again told Vasilissa,
“Tomorrow do the same think you did today, but add this task. Take the poppy seeds from the granary and clean it up from all bits of dirt. Some nasty person has mixed it up in the mud!”
No sooner said, than Baba Yaga turned around and started to snore. Vasilissa fed her doll. The doll ate and said, “Pray to God and lie down to sleep. The morning is wiser than the evening. Everything will be done, dear Vasilissa!”
In the morning, Baba Yaga rode away again, while Vasilissa and the doll managed all the work again. The old woman came back, looked around, grumbled a bit, and croaked, “My faithful servants, friends of my heart, squeeze the oil from the poppy seeds!”
Three pairs of hands appeared, grabbed the poppy seeds, and disappeared. Baba Yaga sat down to earth. She sat there, eating, but Vasilissa stood by her and said nothing.
“Why are you standing there and saying nothing to me?” asked Baba Yaga. “Are you a mute?”
“I don’t dare say anything,” answered Vasilissa, “but if you allow it, I’d like you ask you about a few things.”
“Ask away! But not every question leads to good answers. If you know too much, you’ll get old faster!”
“I only wanted to ask, grandmother, about what I saw. The white rider who rode by me ,who is he?”
“That’s my bright day,” answered Baba Yaga.
“Then another rider rode past me on a red horse, all dressed in red. Who was here?”
“That’s my red sun!” answered Baba Yaga.
“And who’s the black rider who rode past me at your gates, grandmother?”
“That’s my dark night. They’re all my faithful servants.”
Vasilissa remembered the three pairs of hands, but said nothing else.
“Why aren’t you asking anything else?” asked Baba Yaga.
“What do you expect?” answered Vasilissa. “You yourself said if I know too much, I’ll get old faster!”
“It’s a good thing,” said Baba Yaga, “that you only asked about what’s beyond my gates, not within them. I don’t like busybodies, and the over-curious I like to eat! Now I’m going to ask you a question: How do you manage to do all the work I give you?”
“My mother’s blessing helps me,” answered Vasilissa.
“Oh, is that it?!” screeched Baba Yaga. “Get out of here, daughter of blessing! I don’t need any blessed daughters!”
She pulled Vasilissa out of the hut and pushed her past the gates. But then, she took one of the skulls off the fence. Its eyes were still glowing. Sticking it on a staff, she gave it to Vasilissa and said, “This is the fire that the daughters of your stepmother asked for. Go ahead and take it. After all ,that’s what you came for, isn’t it?”
Vasilissa ran home, her path lit by the glowing eyes of the skull. Finally, on the evening of the following day, she arrived home. As she approached, she thought about tossing the skull away. “They probably managed to find some fire on their own,” she thought her herself. But then, the skull started to talk to her.
“Don’t toss me away. Take me to your stepmother!”
She looked at her stepmother’s house, and seeing not a single fire lit in any window, decided to bring the skull. For the first time ever, they met her kindly and said that for all the days since she had left, they had no fire in their house. The couldn’t manage to so much as catch a spark, and everyone who brought them fire couldn’t’ bring anything past the threshold. It immediately went out!
They brought the skull into the living room, and the eyes on the skull started to stare at the stepmother and stepsisters, so intensely, it was like they were on fire! They tried hiding, but it didn’t’ matter. No matter where they went, the eyes followed them everywhere. By the morning, the eyes had burned them down completely to ash. Only Vasilissa remained untouched.
That morning, Vasilissa buried the skull in the earth, locked the house, and went into the city. She asked to live with an old woman with no family. She took her in. There she lived for a while, waiting for her father. But she soon got bored.
“Grandmother,” she said to her. “I don’t’ like sitting around without work. Can you get me some linen? I want to sew something.”
The old woman bought her some of the best linen. Vasilissa sat down, and the work just flowed out of her. She spun the linen thread so finely, so straight, that it was like human hair. Soon it was time to begin weaving, but no loom was found that could fit such fine thread. And no one bothered to help Vasilissa find a better one. So Vasilissa asked her doll for help.
“Bring me an old loom, an old shuttle, and some horsehair. I’ll fix it up for you.”
Vasilissa did as she was told, and went to sleep. Overnight, the doll made her a beautiful new loom.
By the end of the winter, she finished her weaving. It was so thin, so fine, that it could fit through the eye of a needle. In spring, they whitened the linen, and Vasilissa told the old woman, “Go ahead, grandmother, sell the linen. You can keep the money.”
But the old woman looked at the linen and gasped. “No, my child! No one but the king can wear such linen! I’m going to bring it to the palace.”
The old woman went to the palace grounds, but kept walking back and forth in front of the windows. Finally, the king saw her, and asked, “What do you need, old woman?”
“Your royal highness,” she said. “I have brought you a wondrous thing. I want to show it to no-one but you!”
The king ordered that she be let in. He took one look at the linen, and gasped aloud.
“What do you want for it?” asked the king.
“It is priceless, my lord king! I will give it to you for free.”
The king thanked her and let her go home laden with gifts.
Then it came time to make a shirt from that linen. But it was so fine, no seamstress dared even try it! Finally, the king called the old woman back and said,
“If you could weave such a fine fabric, then you should be able to make a shirt out of it!”
“But it wasn’t’ me, highness, it was a young girl in my charge.”
“Well, then have her make me a shirt!”
The old woman left home and told Vasilissa everything.
“I knew that this work would come back to me!”
She locked herself up in her room and started to work. She worked without stopping, for as long as it took, and soon she had twelve shirts ready.
The Old woman brought the king his shirts, and Vasilissa washed up, did her hair, got dressed, and sat by her window. She sat and sat and waited to see what would happen.
Then she saw that the king’s own servant was walking up to the house. He walked into the living room and said, “The King wants to see the one who made these wonderful shirts, so that he can reward her with his own hands.”
And so Vasilissa came before the eyes of the king himself. As soon as the king saw Vasilissa the Beautiful, he fell head over heels in love with her.
“No,” he said, “my beauty, I will never part from you. You must be my wife.”
And so the king took Vasilissa by her white hands, sat her next to himself, and then, he married her. Soon Vasilissa’s father returned. Overjoyed at her fate, he stayed to live with her at the palace. And Vasilissa took the old woman in as well. Till the end of her days, she always carried her doll in her pocket.
If you enjoyed this podcast, you may also like my essay “A Passport to Russian Fairy Land,” in which I guide you through the opening lines of Russian Fairy Tales, help you interpret cryptic fairy tale phrases, and introduce you to the infamous Baba Yaga herself! Enter your email and I’ll send your passport!