Episode 39B – The Price of a Rose – Myths Your Teacher Hated

Episode 39B Show Notes

Source: French Folklore

This week on MYTH, we’ll learn what horrid fate lies in store for the merchant confronted with the horrible Beast. This is the second episode in our telling of the classic French tale, Beauty and the Beast. You’ll learn that the Beast is something of a stickler for etiquette, that consent matters even to monsters, and that no one can hate you quite like your own sibling. Then, in Gods and Monsters, we’ll meet the shape shifting horror lurking in the French countryside, but also in the swamps of Louisiana. This is the Myths Your Teacher Hated podcast, where I tell the stories of cultures from around the world in all of their original, bloody, uncensored glory. Modern tellings of these stories have become dry and dusty, but I’ll be trying to breathe new life into them. This is Episode 39B, “The Price of a Rose”. As always, this episode is not safe for work.
When we last left our story, we met a rich merchant in a city in France whose wife had probably died, but not before having six sons and six daughters with him. Things had gone pretty well until an unlucky fire had burned everything the merchant had owned, and a series of accidents on the high seas had destroyed his business dealings. Broke and bereft, he was forced to move his family out to a tiny cottage several hundred miles away from the city that he had managed to hang on to by his fingernails. The dozen children had settled into their new routine of being poor and abandoned by everyone who had previously wanted to either flirt, befriend, or fuck them, although all but the youngest had done so with bad grace. That young woman, nicknamed Belle (or Beauty) because of her incredible looks and even better personality, had been the only one to try and make the best of the situation. Two years into this Purgatory, a message had come that one ship full of goods had arrived at port unexpectedly. The merchant had rushed off to the city to try and get some of his previously vast wealth back, but he was cheated out of everything by his former partners and found himself having to head back in defeat six months later only to get lost in a blizzard. He wandered into a magical seeming castle full of weird shit but no people and, for reasons unknown, decided that fate wanted him to have it. He had plucked a rose for his beloved Belle, the only thing she had asked for while he was gone, only to be confronted by a horrible, hideous beast enraged at the merchant for ripping him off.
The gravelly roar about punishment finally loosened the poor merchant’s tongue. He threw himself on his belly at the Beast’s feet. “Have pity on me, monseigneur! Please, I am not ungrateful. I know that I owe you my life, and I promise I tried to thank you earlier, but I couldn’t find you. I had no idea that these roses were so important to you. After all your incredible generosity, I thought a single rose a small thing. Had I known that they were so important, I wouldn’t have touched them, I swear! I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Far from being mollified, the beast seemed to swell larger and larger with every word the merchant spoke. “Silence! Fuck your flattery! Honeyed words won’t save your ass, you dick, nor will giving me imagined titles. I am not Monseigneur, I am the motherfucking Beast and the death you have earned is here in my hands. Come and taste it.” The merchant pissed the expensive wine and liquors down his leg in sheer terror at these words. Convinced that he was about to be mauled to death, he began to babble, desperate to find anything that might save his life. He told the Beast that he had only picked this rose for his beautiful daughter Belle, that he had been ruined and this tiny bit of happiness was all he could provide her. The Beast stayed standing where he was, so the merchant, encouraged, began to relate all of his misfortunes and adventures from the fire onward. He told him about Belle and how all she had asked for was a single rose, whereas his other daughters would hardly be satisfied with a king’s ransom each in riches and finery. He told the Beast how he had seen these roses and thought he could fulfill his best daughter’s simple wish without offending or hurting anyone and again begged his forgiveness for his mistake.
Some of the rage seemed to leave the Beast, and when he spoke again, it was in a somewhat milder tone. “Hmph. I could perhaps find it in my heart to forgive you, mortal, but on one condition: you must give me one of your daughters to do with as I wish. You have stolen something precious from me, and so you must give me something equally precious. Your daughters are your greatest treasure, and I will have one of them, or I will kill you here and now. Choose.”
The merchant was horrified. He had begun to feel hope blooming in his chest at the Beast’s words, but he couldn’t imagine buying his own life with that of one of his beloved daughters. It was unthinkable! “Beg pardon, great Beast, but I cannot possibly agree to that! Even if I were enough of a bastard to be willing to trade the life of one of my children to save my own, how could I possibly talk her into coming here? What lie could I possibly tell that she would believe?” The Beast snorted derisively. “Don’t fucking lie at all, human. Tell her the truth. All of it. Either she comes of her own free will, or she doesn’t come at all!” Hey, he might be a savage beast in an old story, but he’s not a complete monster. Consent matters, even to a Beast.
“Go back to your home, mortal, and tell your daughters what you have done. See if these children that you love so much feel the same for you. Tell them my condition and see if any of them are willing to come here and take your place. You seem to be an honest man. Give me your word that you will come back here in one month, either with one of your daughters or alone, I don’t care which. If she comes with you, you will be free to go. If not, you will die. And just in case I’m wrong about you being honest, if you leave here and do not return, know that I will hunt you down. I will rip your intestines out of your fucking chest and I will show them to you, but not before I make you watch as each and every one of your children is mutilated and murdered. I will kill everyone you have ever loved, anyone who has a fucking drop of your blood in their veins, and even if you raise an army of a hundred thousand men, I will still rip out your throat and watch the life leave your eyes. Know this to be true, mortal. Now go. See you in a month.”
The merchant realized he didn’t have much choice. “I accept your offer, Beast.” This may seem cold-blooded of the man, but he didn’t actually plan on trying to get his daughters to sacrifice themselves for him. He just figured that one last month with them was better than nothing, and it would give him a chance to try and set things in order and give his children the best chance they could possibly have for a good life once he was gone. Besides, even if he didn’t think he’d never be able to look himself in the mirror again if he sent a daughter in his place, he doubted very much that any sane person would take the Beast’s deal. They were young; they had their whole lives ahead of them. It would be silly to trade that for him, washed up and wrung out as he was.
The Beast just stood there silently, so the merchant figured he was dismissed. He expressed his desire to leave as quickly as he could. “Not yet, human. You stay here tonight and leave at first light. I don’t want you to break your neck in the darkness and rob me of my vengeance. In the morning, you will find a horse waiting for you that will be able to carry you home far more quickly than that bedraggled thing you came here on. Get out of my sight until then. Go and eat your dinner and wait for further orders from me.” The merchant bowed and left the garden as quickly as he could without offending the Beast any further.
He knew himself to be a dead man walking, but he headed for supper anyway. What else could he do? In the drawing room, he again found a table laid out with a sumptuous feast before a roaring fire, but the delicacies held no temptation for him now. It would all taste like ashes with the sword of Damocles hanging over his head like this. He probably wouldn’t have sat down to eat at all if he wasn’t afraid of offending the Beast further by refusing his hospitality after being ordered to go and eat. For all he knew, the monster was lurking somewhere, unseen and watching, to see if he broke any more rules. The merchant made a show of at least tasting everything on the table, but in his fear and his grief, everything just tasted like shit.
As he was realizing that he wasn’t going to be able to shove any more food down his throat, he heard a series of massive thuds coming from the adjoining room, and he had no doubt that it was the sound of his horrifying host coming his way. He didn’t have time to leave for another room, so instead, he worked to smooth over his face and bury any sense of surprise or horror to avoid offending the Beast any further. “How was your meal, human?” The merchant’s voice caught in his throat, but he forced his timid words out. “It…it was very good, sir. Thank you for your kindness.” The Beast ignored his thanks. “Promise me that you will not forget the oath you made to me and will bring me one of your daughters.” “I will keep the promise that I made.” The Beast snorted derisively. “You’d better. And you’d better make sure that your daughters know exactly what they’re getting themselves into and exactly how dangerous I am. Tell them everything, every horrifying detail of me. Once she’s here with me, there will be no second chance to back out. If she tries to change her mind, I’ll kill both of you.”
The merchant again vowed to keep his word in a voice that grew shakier by the moment, and the Beast appeared satisfied that he had driven the point home. “Alright, then, go to bed. Do not leave your room until you see goddamned sunlight and hear the peal of a golden fucking bell. Oh, and make sure you eat breakfast before you leave. Don’t want you starving to death before you can get home and bring me one of your lovely daughters. If you still want the rose that you traded your life for, be my guest. You’ll find a horse saddled and waiting in the courtyard after breakfast. I’ll see you back here in a month, or I will hunt you down and gut everyone you love like a motherfucking fish. Sleep well.”
The merchant took the opportunity to get the fuck out of there, making sure to bow courteously to the the awful monster who would rip his throat out in one month. As he left, he could hear the Beast behind him telling him not to worry about which road to take to come back. The horse would appear at his door on the appointed day, and it knew the way.
The merchant was far too terrified to sleep, but he wasn’t about to disobey the Beast again and risk having him demand all of his daughters or some shit. He found the room the Beast had prepared and lay there in the luxurious bed, staring into the darkness, until the rosy light of dawn began to creep through the window. When the bell chimed, he rose and hurried to wolf down a hearty breakfast, glad that the Beast didn’t appear to be joining him. Afterwards, he rushed out to the garden to gather the incredible rose for Belle, weeping as he plucked it. So much suffering for such a small thing. With a heavy heart, he took the thing he wished he’d never seen and headed for the courtyard where the horse was waiting for him as promised.
A light, warm cloak was laid out across the saddle for him, and he wrapped himself in it, unsurprised to find it was much, much more comfortable than his own. He climbed into the saddle, and as soon as he settled himself, the horse began to move without prompting from the merchant. It galloped out of the courtyard at such speed that the merchant felt his heart drop into his stomach. He lost sight of the palace in mere moments. Part of him was overjoyed to see it disappear behind him, but that joy was tempered by the certainty that he would be back here in a month for his own execution.
He cursed himself for a fool, wondering just what he had gotten himself into as he continued to race along at a pace that no horse outside of Fairyland could have possibly achieved. “Maybe it would have been better if that asshole who thirsts for the blood of my children had just killed me on the spot. Sure, I get to live a little longer, but doom hangs heavy over my head. Why did I agree? Was I really just wanting to say goodbye, or does some dark part of my soul hope to trade a child’s life for my own? Could I really be so heartless and cruel and bring my beloved child here to be murdered and devoured before my very eyes?”
The merchant shook his head ruefully. “It’s pointless to wonder, I guess. Even if I were willing to sacrifice my own daughter to this abomination, she would have to consent to it willingly, knowing what waits for her. I know my daughters love me, but no sane person would agree to that. Even if one of them loved me enough to come along, one sight of that abominable creature would make her change her mind, and then we’re both dead.” The merchant shook his fist in the vague direction of the castle. “You did this on purpose, you fucking monster! You’re not just going to kill me, you’re going to torture me for a solid month with the illusion of the chance to save my life, but only if I sell my soul! Fuck you! I won’t let you win, asshole! I will face your fury myself, and I will not even think about letting someone else take my place. Hell, I’ll go right now. I’ll retrace the road to your castle and make you kill me now. I won’t let you torture me and my children this way!”
He pulled on the bridle, trying to do exactly that, but the horse was far stronger than he expected. He pulled with all his might, but he could not budge the horse’s head. It ignored his attempts to turn around and continued racing towards his home. He slumped in the saddle, defeated. “Fine then. I’ll go home, but I won’t even tell my children what’s going to happen. I will hug them, say my goodbyes, and give them what words of wisdom I have. I will beg them to stay close to each other, and to take care of each other.” In the midst of this train of thought, the merchant suddenly found himself outside his own cottage door. His horse had apparently arrived without him the night before, worrying his children. His sons had set out into the forest to try and find the man they were convinced was dying in a ditch somewhere while the daughters went to the nearby homes to ask if anyone had seen their father.
Mounted as he was on a magnificent stallion and wrapped in a expensive cloak, his children did not recognize him at first glance. Seeing him in front of their home, they took him for a messenger sent to find them. Seeing the rose affixed to the pommel of the saddle eased their minds and told them that their father was fine, just delayed. When they drew nearer, however, they recognized his face inside the cloak and rushed over to greet him after his long absence.
Their joy at his return quickly turned to anxiety as they saw the worry and grief on his face and the tears in his eyes which he tried to brush away. “Papa, what’s wrong? Why are you so unhappy?” He didn’t answer, but handed the rose to Belle. “Here you are, my child, as I promised. A rose. It proved to be more expensive than I expected, and I fear it will cost you and all of your siblings dearly.”
The eldest daughter cut in, voice tight with jealousy and anger. “I knew it! I fucking knew it! I told them, I told them all that you wouldn’t get any of the things that we asked you for except for motherfucking Belle! In the middle of winter, a rose must have cost you more than everything else we wanted combined, but of course that’s the only thing you bothered to get, you horrid man! That piece of shit will be wilted and dead before sunset, unlike the things we asked you for, but oh no. You just had to get Belle what she wanted and fuck the rest of us, right? She always was your favorite, the little bitch.”
Her father sighed. She was completely wrong, of course, but in a way that she had absolutely no way of knowing about, she was also right. “Alas, this rose has cost me dearly, dearer than all of the trinkets and baubles and useless expensive shit the rest of you asked for, but the price wasn’t money. Shit, I wish I could pay for it with every last cent I’m still worth. It would be a fair trade.” This…this wasn’t what his children had expected. They peppered him with questions about what had happened, and their assault of curiosity and concern broke down his resolution not to tell them anything about his adventures in the Beast’s castle.
He told them the story from the beginning: how he arrived in the city to find the ship sold out from under him by former partners; how he had sued everyone for the money he was owed, but ended up having to give it all to lawyers in order to get it back, leaving him with little more than he had arrived with; how he had found himself lost in a storm and wandered into the castle out of a nightmare. He broke down in despair as he told them of the price the Beast had demanded and his threat if the merchant tried to back out of paying. His daughters, their hopes of returning to high society and marrying a rich, handsome man dashed, screamed and cried, and his sons, in a show of bravado declared that they would never let some horrid thing take their father away while secretly terrified that they would have to actually try and rid the world of the Beast as they claimed they could.
The merchant, although moved by their concern, waved them away. He knew that the Beast was completely capable of slaughtering all of them at once, and he wasn’t willing to lose his children for his own mistake. “No, my sons, no. No violence. I gave the Beast my word of honor and although I have lost much, I have not lost that. I would rather die than break my oath.” In a voice that shook only a little, the eldest son suggested that perhaps one of them could take their father’s place and try to fight the Beast. At least then everyone wouldn’t lose their father. “Thank you, my son. It means a lot that you would offer that, but the Beast was very specific: only one of my daughters could take my place.” Relieved that they would not have to make the sacrifice anymore, the six sons began to try and convince their sisters to volunteer in the merchant’s place.
They had argued that the eldest should take on this burden, much as the eldest son had volunteered initially, but the five eldest sisters pretty quickly agreed that if anyone was going to be murdered to save their father, then it was only fair that it be Belle. “It’s not fair to expect us to die in such a ghastly fashion for someone else’s mistake! Belle was the dumbass who demanded the rose that put our father in that position. That bitch needs to be the one to die in his place, not us! I know that everyone loves her better than the rest of us, so you would love to see us become her victims and die in her place, but fuck you! We don’t owe that little shit our lives for being selfish like she was! If she hadn’t been so set on making us look bad by not asking for clothes or jewels, Daddy wouldn’t have pissed off that horrid Beast! Daddy didn’t have to pay anything for what we asked for, since we didn’t get them. That makes us better people than her, no matter how much she likes to pretend she’s little miss perfect who doesn’t want material things. If she’d just asked for some jewelry, Daddy would have found a way to scrape the money together to get it for her since he loves her more than us and he would be perfectly safe now. It’s Belle’s fault, and we’re not going to be harassed into paying her penalty.”
Belle was already feeling pretty guilty, and this diatribe left her sobbing on the floor, clutching her knees. Through her tears, she agreed with her sisters. “Yes, sisters, I am the cause of all of this, so I alone must bear this burden. I agree that it wouldn’t be fair to make one of you suffer for my innocent request. How could I know that asking for a rose in the middle of summer, when they are incredibly abundant, would lead to this kind of trouble? I’d take it back if I could, but that doesn’t matter now. Innocent or guilty, I am still to blame.” Her voice grew firmer as she decided what she had to do. “I will offer up my life to save Daddy’s. I will go to the Beast and die in his place and be grateful that I could do some good and escape from your hateful whispering. I won’t be talked out of this, but if I could ask one thing, please don’t make me spend the next month listening to all of you insulting or criticizing me. I know I messed up, so I don’t need to hear it, okay?”
That shut her sisters up. They had never heard Belle be so firm before, or from any girl of 16 really, so they did as she asked. Her brothers, meanwhile, were moved by her sacrifice to save their father and realized that there was no other option. They hugged her, eyes full of tears, and told her what a courageous, incredible thing she was doing. Only her father refused to accept her willingness to die for him. When he tried to object, though, his other daughters vented the fury they had to bottle up against the much maligned Belle at him instead. They screeched that he only loved Belle and he wouldn’t be making this kind of fuss if one of them had volunteered (although they made clear that they were not, in fact, volunteering). Even though he had decided not to let any of his children take his place, they refused to believe him, and the combination of their haranguing and Belle’s quiet resolution backed him into a corner and he finally agreed. To be fair, it took Belle threatening to go out and seek the Beast’s castle without him, sacrificing herself without even saving his life in the process if he didn’t agree, to make him relent. “After all”, she reasoned, “who can tell? Maybe this horrible fate is just hiding a better one behind it as wonderful as it seems terrible.”
Her sisters, ever bitches, smiled maliciously at this naivete. They thought it was horribly funny to think of their sister meeting the Beast with a smile on her face only to have her throat ripped out, her last thought how wrong she had been (and how right her sisters had been). The merchant, however, was comforted a little bit after he remembered a prediction from years ago that his youngest daughter would save his life and would also be a source of happiness to her whole family. This little prophecy, if prophecy it be, comes out of left field and has never been mentioned before. We’ll see more of that before we’re done. Belle, on the other hand, was not so comforted. She talked a big game, but she didn’t really believe that her choice would lead to anything but her own painful death. She just wanted her dad to feel better.
Belle spent the next month giving away her meager possessions to her sisters, who were all too eager to take her shit and, in fact, almost seemed eager to see her go. They acted as though the month was moving far too slowly. Even as she was giving away all of her material possessions in preparation for a sacrifice for all of them, her sisters somehow hated her even more than before. They hated her so much, in fact, that when the month was up and the sound of a horse neighing could be heard in the yard, their hearts swelled with joy because they were asshats.
We’re going to pause here, with Belle terrified of the journey she is about to make, and leave the rest for later episodes. Much later, in fact, because next time, we’re going to take a little detour and get a secondary tale for some characters that were almost certainly not part of any version of this story you’ve seen before. Say farewell to the doomed Belle for now, because it’s time for Gods and Monsters. This is a segment where I get into a little more detail about the personalities and history of one of the gods or monsters from this week’s pantheon that was not discussed in the main story. This week’s monster is the loup garou.
For those of you, like me, who are fans of the Harry Dresden novels, you already know what the loup garou is, but for the rest of you, let’s just say we’re sticking to the theme of beasts. We could honestly spend an entire episode on the subject, and maybe we will at some point, but for now, I’ll be brief.
You’re out alone in the French countryside late one night during Lent because you apparently didn’t learn your lesson last episode. Up ahead, you see a small home tucked into the edge of the forest, a house you recognize. The man who lives there is known for being a shitty Catholic, and for the last six years, he’s broken the rules of Lent, and this year is number seven. What an asshole, right (though to be fair, you’ve struggled with the fasting yourself this year and ended up sneaking a little meat today in spite of the rules against it).
Anyway, the moon is riding high in the sky and as it comes out from behind a cloud, you can suddenly see clearly all the way up to the forest. There’s something there, something huge and horrible. You can see its eyes glowing in the moonlight, and see light glinting off of what can only be teeth. A lot of teeth. The thing raises its head to the sky and begins to howl at the moon, long and high. This is bad. You start to back away, but it’s already too late. The thing drops its head and charges at you, sometimes on four legs, sometimes on two. As it gets closer, before you turn and run, you can see it clearly: it’s the twisted form of something half wolf and half human, dark fur matted with the blood of previous kills. You feel its claws trace lines of fire along your spine, and then you see no more.
As you’ve probably guessed, the loup garou is a type of werewolf peculiar to French culture. Versions of it can be found in the Cajun country of Louisiana and in French Canada as well, brought over to the New World with the French. Many cultures have shapeshifter stories, and they tend to take the form of the biggest, meanest predator around (like the shapeshifting lion in Episode 33). For Europe, that was the wolf, which is why werewolves are so prevalent.
Other than the basics, the loup-garou, also known as a rougarou, doesn’t share a whole lot with the more traditional werewolf. The name comes from loup, the french word for wolf, and garoul, the french word for shapeshifter, so it basically translates to werewolf, but the original French is usually used to distinguish it from the better known beastie.
The loup-garou functions as a sort of Catholic boogeyman, as one of the main ways to turn into one is to break Lent rules or skip Easter services for seven years in a row. Once cursed in this way, the bad Catholic is doomed to turn into the bloodthirsty wolf every night for the next 101 nights, and can pass the curse to anyone it manages to draw blood from (which includes ripping you to shreds with its claws as well as the traditional bite). In this version, the loup-garou will attack anyone it comes across, but will actively hunt out Catholics who aren’t following all of the rules (even if their rule breaking hasn’t gone on for the full seven years yet).
Other versions of the story claim that the curse can be placed on an unwilling victim by a powerful witch, although sometimes said witch could instead use dark magic to transform themselves into the dreaded beast instead. As time wore on, the legend shifted in some places, and it was believed that the curse was instead genetic. If the person did something that triggered the curse, the transformation would begin. It is unclear what the specific event was, at it differed from location to location, and some of the stories have been lost over the years. Once triggered, the soon-to-be monster’s body would swell and grow new muscles, and he would develop a powerful craving for raw meat. On the day that the beast inside finally drove him to bite a human, he would finish the transition into a hulking, furry wolfman. It’s possible that this version was influenced in the new world by the Native American story of the wendigo, a monster born of cannibalism.
Although the loup-garou has superhuman strength, speed, and agility, they are supposedly weak against fire, and burning the creature alive is thought to be one of the only ways to kill it. Other versions claim that beheading the monster will end its reign of terror, while still others say that you must mutilate the body and cut it up into tiny pieces to keep it from healing itself. It was also supposedly possible to cure the poor victim by recognizing who the monster was and drawing blood from him while he was in beast form. Although the monster is almost always depicted as a wolfman, some stories say that some of them could also turn into a cow, an ox, a pig, a cat, a rabbit, or even an owl. The creatures were highly feared in the societies they terrorized to the extent that several areas actually held werewolf trials, similar to the more famous witch trials. That story, however, more rightly belongs to the story of the werewolf proper, and so I won’t tell it here. For now, just know that if you’re out in New Orleans for Mardi Gras, you should take care that your carousing doesn’t leave you face to face with the dreaded loup-garou, out to punish you for being naughty as Lent begins.
That’s it for this episode of Myths Your Teacher Hated. Keep up with new episodes on our Facebook page, on iTunes, on Stitcher, on TuneIn, and on Spotify, or you can follow us on Twitter as @HardcoreMyth and on Instagram as Myths Your Teacher Hated Pod. You can also find news and episodes on our website at myths your teacher hated dot com. If you like what you’ve heard, I’d appreciate a review on iTunes. These reviews really help increase the show’s standing and let more people know it exists. If you have any questions, any gods or monsters you’d want to learn about, or any ideas for future stories that you’d like to hear, feel free to drop me a line. I’m trying to pull as much material from as many different cultures as possible, but there are all sorts of stories I’ve never heard, so suggestions are appreciated. The theme music is by Tiny Cheese Puff, whom you can find on fiverr.com.
Next time, we’re heading to a nearby kingdom for a parallel but still totally relevant tale. You’ll learn that fairies can be cougars and/or creepers, that the best generals are young boys who have never fought before, and that you should obviously never trust an evil king. Then, in Gods and Monsters, you’ll discover the sinister secret hiding behind the stone faces leering at you from Notre Dame. That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.