Episode 42 – A Fiend Like Me – Myths Your Teacher Hated

Episode 42 Show Notes

Source: Arabian Folklore

This week on MYTH, we’ll hop a magic carpet ride to a whole new world. You’ll learn that not all genies are created equal, that long-lost relatives are not to be trusted, and that sometimes being bad can get you everything you want. Then, in Gods and Monsters, we’ll go giant bird watching. 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 42, “A Fiend Like Me”. As always, this episode is not safe for work.
I’ve been looking forward to this one for a while. I’m dating myself a little here, but I saw the 1992 Disney movie when it came out in theaters, and even wore blue grease paint to cosplay as the Genie and sing “Friend Like Me” at my fifth grade talent show. The fantastic animated feature was my (and many other people’s) first introduction to this spellbinding tale of magic and romance, although as is always the case when we cover a Disney story, the original doesn’t look all that much like the story we know and love.
The story is one of the best known folk tales from the classic 1001 Nights (also known as the Arabian Nights) that we first dove into back in Episodes 22A and 22B. The only problem is that it wasn’t actually a part of the original collection of tales and is actually set in China in the earliest versions, although the setting is more consistent with the Middle East, so many adaptations place it there for consistency. Along with Ali Baba and the 40 Thieves, it’s known as an ‘orphan tale’ with no authentic Arabian source. It only made its way into the 1001 Nights in Antoine Galland’s translation from 1710. According to his diary, Galland met with a Syrian storyteller from Aleppo named Youhenna Diab, who first relayed the story to him, although modern historians think that this man, nicknamed Hanna, wasn’t relaying an old tale but in fact telling his own, original creation, loosely based on his own life. Still, it’s been a part of the story collection for so long now that most people don’t realize it doesn’t really belong. We’ll be using the Andrew Lang translation from 1918. So come now, dear listeners: the lamp awaits…
Once upon a time, there lived a poor tailor named Mustapha. He had a son named Aladdin, a careless, lazy kid who refused to help his father out with his struggling business, preferring instead to fuck around with the other lazy assholes like himself. The stress of trying to keep everything afloat all by himself became too much for the poor man and, along with a broken heart from being abandoned by his shit-head of a son, it broke the poor tailor down and killed him. His mother wept and mourned the loss of her husband and begged her son to help her to take over the shop, but despite her teary pleas, he was a selfish asshole and refused to change a single thing about his life. He continued to do whatever he liked with no regard for anyone else, often playing in the streets.
One day, while he was doing whatever it was he did, a stranger came up to the boy and asked him how old he was. Aladdin answered without hesitation. “I thought so. Are you by chance the son of Mustapha the tailor?” “Yeah, but he’s dead. He died a while ago.” The man threw his hands into the air in sorrow, then knelt down and hugged the boy. “I am sorry to hear that. Mustapha was my brother, though I haven’t seen him in many years. I thought you must be his son – you look just like him. Go and tell your mother that I am coming.”
Aladdin didn’t question a relative he’d never met, and raced home to do as he was told. His mother frowned slightly. “Weird. Mustapha did have a brother, but I thought he was dead. Must have gotten him confused with somebody else, I guess.” She set an extra place for supper that night and sent Aladdin to fetch his uncle. Being a good houseguest, the man showed up with wine and fruit for his sister-in-law and nephew. He knelt down and kissed the seat that had once been his brother’s, then held a silent mourning for a minute or so before turning to his brother’s widow. “Thank you for letting me break bread with you. I’ve been out of the country for the last 40 years, and I haven’t written you all the way I should have.” He turned to Aladdin. “I’d like to make up for lost time, though, so tell me about yourself, Aladdin. What trade have you learned to help care for your family after my brother’s passing?”
Aladdin hung his head in shame at having no answer, and his mother burst into tears at this reminder of how stressed she was and how ungrateful and unhelpful her idle asshole of a son was. It took time for the man to get the story out of the pair, but when he finally figured out that Aladdin was a lazy good-for-nothing wastrel, he offered to teach him how to run a shop and even to help him get set up with his very own market, including stocking it.
The next morning, he took Aladdin out into the city with him to show him the sights. He began the day at a tailors to get Aladdin a fine suit of clothes since his dirty, tattered street clothes wouldn’t do for running a shop. When they finally returned that night around sunset, his mother was shocked at the change in her son wrought by something as simple as new clothes.
The next day, Aladdin was led into beautiful gardens a long way from the city gates. He and his uncle sat down by a fountain, and the elder man pulled a cake from a bag on his belt and divided it between them for lunch. Once they had eaten, they traveled onward until they had almost reached the mountains far beyond the city. Aladdin, who had never been this far from home before, asked his uncle if they could head back. He was tired and footsore, and besides, wouldn’t his mother wonder where they were soon? His uncle assured him that it wasn’t much farther. To keep the boy’s mind off his aching feet, he told the boy amusing stories to pass the time.
At long last, they came to a narrow valley running between two steep, rocky mountains. “We’re here, my boy. You’ve been very patient, and it will be rewarded with something wonderful, I promise. First, though, I need you to gather up some sticks to throw on the fire I’ll be building.” By the time Aladdin returned, a merry fire was burning in the gathering gloom. He tossed some of his sticks on the blaze, then stacked the rest beside them as his uncle drew a pouch out of his belt. He reached inside and drew out a handful of fine, glittering dust which he hurled on to the fire while chanting in a strange tongue. The earth rumbled and shook in response, then tore open directly in front of the two, revealing a heavy stone trapdoor set with a large brass ring. Aladdin, terrified at this unexpected show of magical power (not to mention the earthquake), tried to run away. He only got a few steps before his uncle chased him down and kicked his feet out from under him. The man led Aladdin back to the stone door while the young man shook and cried.
“Why did you hit me, Uncle? What’s happening? Why are you doing this?” His uncle dusted him off then spoke to him as gently as he could. “Sorry about that, my boy. The desert can be dangerous at night and I didn’t want you to get lost. There’s nothing to be afraid of as long as you listen to me and do exactly as I say. You see that stone door?” Aladdin nodded, his eyes following his uncle’s gesture. “A great treasure lies beneath it, a treasure meant for you and you alone, my boy. No one else may touch it, so you’ll have to be the one to retrieve it, but I’ll help you out. Do exactly as I say, and you’ll be a very rich man. Open the door, Aladdin.”
The boy did as he was told, fear forgotten at the thought of untold riches. “Head down the stairs. At the bottom, you’ll find a door leading into three large halls, one after the other. Tuck your robes into your belt to keep it secure. Touch nothing, and I mean nothing, or you will die instantly. At the end of the halls, you’ll find a garden full of glorious fruit trees. Walk through the grove until you find a niche holding a lighted lamp. Pour out the oil in it and bring the lamp to me.” He took a plain ring off his finger and handed it to Aladdin, then ushered him into the dark stone opening in the sand. “Good luck, Aladdin.”
Aladdin found everything to be exactly as his uncle had said. He found the garden without incident and gathered up some fruit for the trip back before grabbing the lamp, dumping out the oil, and heading back. There, he found that the stairs had vanished, although the opening was still there. He could see his uncle’s silhouette framed against the stars, waiting for him. “Your back! You did it! Quick, toss me the lamp, and I’ll pull you out.” Some self-preservation buried deep in Aladdin’s mind began to scream a warning at him. “How about you pull me out and then I give you the lamp? That seems the smarter way to go.” His uncle raged and cursed, demanding the lamp, which Aladdin was now absolutely sure he shouldn’t hand over. “Last chance, boy!” The old man threw more powder on the fire and chanted angry syllables, causing the stone door to close, dropping Aladdin in to deep, unrelenting silence.
As you may have guessed, the man was not, in fact, Aladdin’s uncle, but a powerful magician from northern Africa. He had read of the lamp in his magical grimoires and had come seeking it as legend had said it would make him the most powerful man in the world. He had spent years researching the lamp and piecing together how to find it, but there was a catch – he could only receive the lamp from someone else. He had spent weeks searching the city for someone desperate, gullible, and stupid enough to be tricked into doing what he needed, and had heard enough stories about the lazy Aladdin to decide he was the perfect patsy, but he had apparently picked wrong. The boy must have sensed that the magician planned to kill him as soon as he had the lamp to cover his tracks from any other magicians seeking this power. Cursing to himself, the magician left China forever, abandoning Aladdin to a slow death beneath the earth.
For two days, Aladdin sat in the utter darkness at the missing door, waiting for his fake uncle to have a change of heart and come back for him. He wept until snot ran down his chin, then got down on his knees to beg Allah for help. He clasped his hands in prayer, accidentally rubbing the ring that the magician had given him to grant him access to this place and had forgotten to take back. Smoke billowed from the earth, luminescent in the pitch black, revealing the massive form of a terrifying genie. “What do you ask of me? I am the Slave of the Ring, and I obey you who wears it.”
Aladdin, not one to look gift horses in the mouth, commanded the genie to save him from this awful place. No sooner had he spoken than the earth split asunder, allowing Aladdin to climb to freedom. He collapsed on the sand, chest heaving, until he caught his breath and his eyes adjusted to the blinding light of the outside world, then stood and headed home. He collapsed on the threshold of his house, exhausted; his shocked and worried mother heard him fall and dragged him inside to recover. He told her everything that had happened, and showed her the lamp and the fruit he had taken from the magical subterranean grove. Upon looking at them again in the light of day, he realized that they weren’t fruits at all, but huge precious gems worth a fortune each. He told his mother he was famished, not having eaten since the magician’s cake days ago. “I’m sorry, my son, but there’s no food in the house. I have been looking for you the last few days and haven’t bought anything. I do have some cotton that I spun into cloth that I can go sell to buy something to eat, though. You rest; I’ll be back soon.”
“Don’t worry about the cotton, mom. We can sell these gems once we find a good buyer, but I also have this dirty lamp. It’s probably worth enough to buy a meal.” It seems crazy to me to be so willing to give up the thing that a powerful magician had worked so hard to try and get, but then, Aladdin wasn’t picked as a stooge for being clever. He handed the lamp to his mother, who began to rub the dirt off to try and fetch a higher price. Instantly, thick smoke began to billow out of the end of the lamp, resolving into the massive, monstrous form of a hideous genie, who asked her what she wanted of the Genie of the Lamp. The woman took one look at the giant monster and fainted dead away. Aladdin snatched the lamp out of her hand and demanded that the genie fetch him something to eat. The genie returned with a silver bow, twelve silver plates holding a variety of rich meats, two silver cups, and two bottles of fine wine.
This whole thing begs the question: if the magician had a magic ring that summoned a genie already, why did he need the genie of the lamp as well? Don’t think about it too hard because the story never really answers why he needed a second genie, but maybe he didn’t know exactly what was special about the lamp, or maybe he just wanted a backup genie in case something went wrong with the ring. Probably, the lamp genie was just a lot stronger (there’s some contextual evidence for this later). Pick whatever explanation you can live with and roll with it.
Aladdin’s mother soon woke from her faint, amazed to find such an incredible feast laid out for her. “Where did this come from, my son?” “Don’t worry about it. Just eat.” She was hungry enough from doing without for as long as she had (running a business all by herself was difficult and not very prosperous) that she ate the meal with only a few suspicious looks. The two sat there, eating all day from breakfast until dinner, enchanted by the rich feast of foods they had never even dreamed of being able to try before. When they had both finally eaten their fill, Aladdin explained to his mother about the genies of the ring and lamp. She begged him to sell the cursed objects, wanting nothing to do with the devils that had been bound to them. Jinn are not inherently good or evil, but are very powerful and can be very malicious in a lot of stories, so I don’t really blame her for being afraid.
Aladdin, either too brave or too dumb to be afraid, refused. “No, mother. Don’t you see? This is our lucky break! I will always wear this ring, and we will make use of the genies to make our lives better. Why shouldn’t we? I nearly died for these.” Even so, both of them didn’t have much in the way of grand ideas about what they wanted, so Aladdin simply sold the silver plates one at a time, living off the sales quite comfortably, until they were all gone. Then, he had the genie bring more silver plates, selling them off one by one. Aladdin and his mother lived this way for many years in modest comfort.
Things probably would have gone on this way until Aladdin died if the Sultan hadn’t sent an order through the town one day. He demanded that everyone in the city confine themselves indoors with their shutters firmly shut so that his daughter, the princess, could go to and from the bath without being seen by the common populace. Now, it seems to me that there are a lot of much easier ways to give a woman a bath in privacy with a lot less chance of something going wrong, but that’s fairy tales for you. Aladdin, being impulsive, a little stupid, and now a hormonal teenager to boot, decided that fuck it, he needed to see this woman’s forbidden face.
Doing so would prove difficult, however. The princess never left the palace without her veil, so to see her naked face, Aladdin was going to have to be a little bit of a perv. He snuck down to the bath house on the day she was to visit and hid himself behind the door. He watched her through a small chink he had made as she enetered and lifted her veil. She was absolutely stunning, and he fell in love with her at the very first sight. The story doesn’t say, but I find myself wondering just how much of an eyeful Aladdin got before leaving. Based on everything we know about him, I suspect he’s kind of a creeper and watched her nude up and bathe.
When he finally made his way home, he was so changed that it worried his mother. He told her that he loved the princess so much that he could not imagine life without her. He intended to go to the sultan and ask for her hand in marriage. This was a preposterous idea, and his mother burst out laughing, but the boy was serious and he eventually convinced her to take his message. She took a napkin and filled it with the magical jewels from the garden beneath the desert to convince the Sultan that they were serious. They’d been holding on to them just in case anything ever went wrong with their twin genies, but this was bigger.
She went to the palace, where the grand-vizier and the lords of the realm were meeting in the great hall. She stood there as they filed in and remained until they filed back out, but the Sultan took no notice of her. The council met every day for six days, and Aladdin’s mother was there every day, waiting patiently. When the council broke up on day six, the Sultan pointed her out to the vizier. “That woman is here every day holding that napkin. Call her over tomorrow and find out what she wants. It’s driving me nuts.”
The next day, she was summoned to the throne by the vizier. She bowed and remained there, kneeling, until the Sultan spoke to her. “Rise, good woman, and tell me what has brought you here.” She hesitated, and so the sultan cleared the room of everyone but himself, the vizier, and the woman. “Speak freely and know that nothing you say will be held against you.” She took a deep breath, and then told the Sultan that her son was desperately in love with his daughter, the princess. “I told him he should just forget her, but he cannot. He sent me here to ask you for your daughter’s hand. I fear that he would kill himself if I didn’t come and ask you. He’s mad with love, great Sultan. Please forgive him.” The Sultan wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to this odd information, so he ignored it. “O…kay. What’s in the napkin?” She unfolded it to reveal the impossibly brilliant and sparkling jewels inside.
The Sultan was wealthy and powerful, but he had never seen anything as fine as the jewels in this woman’s napkin. He was dumbfounded. “What do you think, Vizier? Should we marry my daughter to someone who values her so highly?” The vizier had been quietly maneuvering to have his own son marry the princess and become sultan for years now, and this was not a wrench he was prepared for. “I think it is unwise to be hasty, your highness. I advise you to grant the betrothal but wait three months and see if anyone can top this offering for your daughter’s hand.” The Sultan, who apparently only cared about his daughter’s price and not her happiness (which makes him very different from his Disney counterpart), agreed. The vizier immediately began trying to figure out how to gather a more extravagant gift than the jeweled fruit for his son. Aladdin’s mother was told to stay away until the three months was up, and then come back to arrange the wedding to his daughter.
It was agony, but Aladdin managed to slog through two months without his beloved princess (whom he had never said a single word to, mind). It was then that his mother had gone out into the city to buy lamp oil and found that a great celebration was just getting started in the city streets. “What’s going on? Why the party?” “You haven’t heard? The princess is getting married tonight!” “The fuck? To who?” “Who else, woman? The grand-vizier’s son!”
She raced through the streets to find Aladdin and told him what she had learned. He collapsed into a heap of despair, then remembered that he had a magic fucking lamp at his disposal. He summoned the genie. “What is thy will?” “The sultan had promised to marry his daughter to me, but he’s an untrustworthy asshole! She’s going to marry the vizier’s son tonight, so tonight, I want you to bring the bride and groom here to me.” At midnight, the genie transported the newly married couple, just now in their marriage bed for the first time, not even having had time to fuck their first fuck, into Aladdin’s home. “Awesome. Now, take this newly married man and throw him out in the cold to freeze his dick off, then return at daybreak.”
The confused and more than a little terrified vizier’s son vanished at Aladdin’s command. The young man then approached the terrified, naked princess in her bed. “Don’t be afraid, princess. You’re safe. Your father promised me that you and I would wed, but he has broken that promise. You are my wife, regardless, and no harm shall come to you.” Quite reasonably, this did fuck all to reassure the woman who had just been magically kidnapped, naked, to the home of a strange man she had never met and had her new husband vanished to god knew where. She spent the most miserable, agonizing night of her life (and that’s not me extrapolating: the story is very clear that she’s not at all on board with this Aladdin asshole) next to the soundly sleeping body of her kidnapper. She was too afraid of what he would do if she was caught fleeing to even move, so she stayed there, shivering with fear, the whole sleepless night. The story doesn’t say whether Aladdin tried to force anything sexual with her, but given his character and his sense of entitlement to her as his bride, I wouldn’t put it past him.
At daybreak, the genie returned the shivering groom and the terrified bride back to the palace in their bed. No one in the palace was any the wiser. Soon thereafter, the Sultan came in to wish his daughter and his new son-in-law congratulations on their wedding and their consummated marriage, but the scene he walked into was not the one he had expected. The vizier’s son had squeezed himself into the best hiding place he could find in the room, and the princess was too terrified to say a word about what had happened. The Sultan, realizing he was out of his depth, sent for her mother. He left the two of them alone in the sitting room (the vizier’s son still hadn’t come out of hiding). “What happened, my daughter? Why will you not speak to your father?” The princess finally gathered up enough courage to tell her mother what had happened, which her mother didn’t believe a single fucking word of. Who would? It’s an absurd tale if you don’t already know the backstory. She assured her daughter that it was just a very bad, very weird dream (although the princess goddamned well knew better).
The next night, a tremulous couple went to bed and were again yanked out of the castle by Aladdin’s genie. They passed another awful night the same way they had and were returned again to the castle in the morning, where the traumatized princess again refused to speak. The sultan, who was kind of a dick, was so exasperated by her refusal that he ordered her to tell him what was getting her panites in a twist or he would have her head cut the fuck off! Death threats from her father managed to scare her more than Aladdin, and she told the sultan everything that had happened. The sultan had frankly forgotten all about his promise to Aladdin’s mother until the princess’ story forcibly reminded him. He sent for the woman and, on seeing again her poverty (since the two had used the genie to make enough money to live off of but had never bothered to get rich as they so plainly could have), he was even more inclined than before to toss her out on her ass. He asked the vizier’s advice, and he, wanting to keep his son in line for the throne, advised the sultan to set a price for his daughter’s hand that no man could possibly match. When Aladdin failed to follow through, he could break his promise with no worry.
The Sultan turned back to Aladdin’s mother. “A sultan must remember his promises, good woman, and I shall remember mine, but for the sake of form, I will need your son to provide proof of his ardent desire and his worth to marry a princess. He must send to the palace 40 baskets filled with jewels carried by 40 white slaves leading 40 black slaves, all dressed in finery befitting a palace. Then, and only then, shall he and my daughter be wed.”
Aladdin smiled at the sultan’s words when his mother returned home. “Easy enough. Genie?” He summoned the genie, who quickly created everything the sultan had asked for and sent them to the palace, two by two. They made such a spectacle, and were so splendidly and expensively well-dressed, that a crowd quickly formed to watch the procession. They stopped in the throne room, knelt two by two before the Sultan, then gathered in a half-circle around him, arms crossed as they waited for Aladdin’s mother to bring up the rear and present them.
The sultan had intended this as a brush-off, but shit: if this man was capable of providing such splendor on command, he was clearly a better match for his daughter than the vizier’s son. “Woman, I am speechless at your son’s generosity. Return and tell him that I await his coming with open arms!”
She rushed home with the good news. “Hurry up, Aladdin, before he changes his mind! This is your chance!” Aladdin, however, would not be rushed. If he was going to meet his father-in-law, he would be properly groomed. He could have just wished to be as he desired, but instead, he wished for a perfumed bath, rich clothes, a horse finer than anything the Sultan owned, twenty slaves for himself, six for his mother, and ten thousand gold pieces in ten purses. Once he was clean and dressed, he mounted up and rode for the palace. Everyone gawked at his magnificence, and even those who had known him from birth didn’t recognize him anymore.
The Sultan rose from his throne and came down to embrace Aladdin as an equal, declaring that a feast had been laid in his honor and, as soon as it was complete, he would marry the princess that very night. I doubt she was as thrilled with this arrangement as the two men were, but neither seemed to give much of a shit about what she thought about her marriage arrangements. Aladdin, however, refused. “I am sorry, sire, but it would be unfair of me to marry your daughter before I had a palace here in the city that was worthy of her beauty. Once our home is built, I will marry her.”
He took his leave and went home, then summoned the genie of the lamp. “Genie, I need you to build for me a palace of the finest marble, set with jasper, agate, and other precious stones. In the middle, build me a large hall with a massive dome supported on four walls of gold and silver with six windows each, set with diamonds and rubies. It must also have a stable filled with horses, servants, and slaves. At once!” He clapped his hands, and the genie set to work. The palace was built by sunrise, exactly as Aladdin had ordered. The genie had even laid a velvet carpet from the door of the new palace to the door of the Sultan’s definitely inferior one.
Aladdin’s mother dressed in finery and walked to see the Sultan, surrounded by slaves, while Aladdin followed on horseback. They were met by musicians to greet them with a crash of cymbals and a flourish of trumpets rising above the cheers of the crowd. Aladdin’s mother was led in to see the princess so they could get to know one another. That night, she said goodbye to her father and left his home, following the velvet carpet to her new husband, along with her soon-to-be mother-in-law and a hundred slaves. Aladdin met her at the door. The story says she was charmed by the sight of him, but given the abject terror she’s had at his hands the previous two nights, and the several gratuitous displays of wealth and power Aladdin has provided, I’m guessing she’s doing everything in her power to put a brave face on her fear, knowing that Aladdin is absolutely powerful enough to do whatever the fuck he wants with no reprecussions, so she’d better make sure she stays on his good side. Aladdin’s…not exactly a hero in this story, is he?
He kissed her hand as she approached. “Princess, I apologize for my behavior before. If I have offended you, blame it on your beauty.” Which is a total bullshit apology. She told him that, having laid eyes on him, she gladly obeyed her father in this matter. Which isn’t exactly an acceptance of his half-assed excuse for an apology, but Aladdin was pompous enough not to notice. They walked together to the Sultan’s palace to be officially married, and then returned to his great hall, where a magnificent wedding feast had been laid for just the two of them. They ate, drank, and danced until after midnight, then went to bed to consummate the marriage.
The next day, Aladdin rose and went to meet the Sultan. He gave his new father-in-law a tour of his palace. He was duly awed by the sight of the 24 windows set with diamonds, rubies and emeralds, but he noticed that once window was without stones. “I say, my boy, why are there no gems on that last window? Was it an accident? Were they stolen, perhaps?” Aladdin shook his head. “No, sir, it was deliberate: I wished your Majesty to have the glory of finishing your daughter’s new home.” The Sultan thought this a fine gesture, and rushed home to summon the best jewelers in the city. He showed them the window and ordered them to finish it to match all the rest. The merchants spoke amongst themselves, and a reluctant spokesman was chosen. “Sire, uh, we…we can’t possibly get enough jewels to do that.” The Sultan told them that they could use his own gems and set them to work.
They worked for a month, but still the work was not half-done, and they were nearly out of stones. Aladdin took pity on the jewelers, who were terrified of again telling the Sultan that they couldn’t do what he wanted. He had them pull the gems back out of the window and take them back to the Sultan, then had the genie finish the window. The Sultan was surprised to get his wealth back, but saw the window finished overnight just the same. When he came back to the palace, the vizier was mulling everything over. “It’s sorcery. It must be!” Why the window is the thing that tipped the vizier off and not, you know, an entire motherfucking palace of gemstones and precious metals appearing over-fucking-night is beyond me but hey – at least he finally figured this shit out.
Meanwhile, Aladdin was quickly winning the hearts and minds of the people through his generosity and benevolent attitude. He was made captain of the Sultan’s armies, actually succeeding in winning several battles for him. Despite his elevated status, he remained a poor boy at heart and remained friendly and courteous with the common people in a way the rest of the royal house simply couldn’t. His life passed in peace, ease, and contentment for several years.
Unfortunately, Aladdin was a victim of his own success, and word of his fame spread far and wide, eventually reaching distant Africa. The magician heard word of this magnificent prince who had risen out of nowhere, and became suspicious. Through the power of his mystical arts, he looked into this mystery prince and discovered that the stupid pawn he had left to die in that magical cave had somehow escaped and used the genie to great effect to become wealthy and marry a princess. His heart seethed with jealousy and he resolved to steal back the lamp that should have been his by right of having tried to betray someone to death for it first.
He rode day and night until he reached the capital. He heard people talking about Aladdin’s incredible, impossible palace, even now years after it had been built. He stopped someone in the street. “Pardon my ignorance, sir – I’m new in town. What is this palace you speak of?” “You haven’t heard of Prince Aladdin’s palace? It’s only the greatest wonder of the world. You simply have to see it!” He followed the man’s directions to the incredible palace. It took him just moments to realize that there was no way that this palace could have been raised by anything but a genie. Rage and envy washed over him in waves. He was half mad with it, and he swore that he would have the lamp from that shit head Aladdin and plunge him back into the abject poverty he had come from. And you probably thought it was going to be the vizier swearing revenge, didn’t you?
It so happened that Aladdin had gone hunting, and wouldn’t be back for eight days. The magician dry-washed his hands evilly. That would be plenty of time. He bought a dozen bright, shiny lamps and piled them in a basket. He dressed humbly and went to the palace crying “New lamps for old! New lamps for old!” He was soon followed by a large, jeering crowd shouting insults at this obviously insane man offering brand new lamps for shitty ones.
The princess was sitting in the great hall of the 24 jeweled windows and could hear the noise from the square. She sent a slave out to see what the commotion was all about. The slave came back laughing, which mystified the princess. “What the hell is so funny?” “Mistress, it’s just too funny! There’s a crazy old man out there offering to exchange fine, new copper lamps for beaten up old ones. What a terrible business model!”
From an adjoining room, one of the slaves called out “You know, there’s a really old, beaten up one in a little niche back here. We should trade it for a nice new one since it’s free. Why turn down free money?” The princess, who had no idea where Aladdin got his power and wealth, figured why the hell not. She sent the slave back with the magic lamp to trade for a common one. The magician snatched it out of her hands, trembling with excitement, and told the slave to take any lamp she liked in exchange. Once she went inside, he headed for the gates, no longer crying about his lamps because who gave a fuck? He had what he wanted.
He left the city and found a quiet, isolated place after sundown to summon the genie, who appeared from the lamp exactly as his books had said it would. “Genie! Take me back to a lonely place in Africa near my home, and bring the princess and the palace with me.” The next morning, the Sultan looked out the window towards Aladdin’s palace, only the palace wasn’t where it was supposed to be. As suddenly as it had appeared in the first place, it had vanished. He sent for the vizier to ask what the fuck had happened to the palace and his daughter. “Honestly, your Highness? I have no fucking idea, but I bet it’s sorcery. It’s always sorcery.” I mean, he’s not wrong.
The Sultan, who had refused to believe the vizier when a giant fucking palace made of more gold and precious stones than he had ever seen in his life appeared overnight, realized that when that same palace disappeared overnight, that it did, in fact, have to be sorcery. He sent a group of guards to seize Aladdin and drag him back in chains. The guards found him riding back to where he thought home was, seized him, gagged him, and made him walk behind them as they rode slowly back. A crowd gathered immediately, angry at the mistreatment of the one member of the royal family they actually liked. Many of the disgruntled not-yet-rioters armed themselves as they followed Aladdin, determined to see that no harm befell him.
He was thrown face-down before the Sultan, who ordered him put to death and summoned the executioner. He didn’t fuck around when it came to death threats, and he meant to see Aladdin dead right the hell now, even though that would do fuck all to get his daughter back. The executioner obeyed the summons, bringing his scimitar and a clean strip of linen, which he used to bind Aladdin’s eyes. He stood over Aladdin’s prone form and raised his scimitar to part his head from his body.
The Sultan was staring in anticipation at Aladdin, but the vizier had the presence of mind to look around, so he was the one who saw the crowd beginning to scale the palace walls and force their way through the doors to either save their favorite prince or raise holy hell in retribution. This…this would end badly for himself and the Sultan. There were way too many angry peasants for the guards to handle. He ordered the executioner to stay his hand. The Sultan began to angrily demand just who the hell the vizier thought he was, but then he saw the gathering crowd of angry, violent people ringing his small group of guards and he swallowed the words. “On second thought, Aladdin, maybe I was too harsh. I hereby pardon you. Guards, release him!”
Once Aladdin was unbound, and the gag removed from his mouth, he asked if he could maybe know what exactly he had done to warrant an almost-execution, if it wasn’t too much trouble? The Sultan gawked at him. “Are you serious, you son of a bitch? Come here and look out that window. Tell me what you see!” Aladdin did so, and his mouth dropped open at the empty space where a palace was supposed to be. “Oh don’t pretend you don’t know about this, you dick! Where did you send it? Where is my daughter? I mean, I don’t give much of a shit about the palace, but I care very, very much for my daughter. Either bring her back, or I really will have you executed, angry crowd be damned!”
Aladdin begged to have 40 days to find her, since he had no earthly idea where she had gone, promising to return and suffer his punishment if he failed. The Sultan figured that having Aladdin on board would help to calm the crowd a little if he did have to kill him, so he agreed to the prince’s terms and dismissed him.
Aladdin stumbled away from the Sultan in a daze, devastated at the loss of his wife and his home in one fell blow. Desperation seized him, and for three days, he raced around the city like a madman, asking everyone he met where the palace had gone. They thought his mind had broken at the loss and they pitied him, but they could not help him. Finally, his energy gave out, and he collapsed forlornly on the bank of a river. He knelt to pray for forgiveness for the suicide he was about to commit by throwing himself into the water to drown. Fortunately, he accidentally rubbed the magic ring he had somehow forgotten he was still wearing, summoning the genie of the ring. “What is your will, oh my master?”
Aladdin wept with relief. “Save my life, genie! Bring back my wife and my palace!” The genie shook its head sadly. “I am sorry, master, but that task is beyond my power. You would have to ask the genie of the lamp.” Aladdin’s shoulders slumped in defeat, but then he had another idea. “Okay, fine, but I bet you can take me to the palace, right?” The genie nodded. “Great, set me down beneath my wife’s window.” The world went blurry and he found himself in a remote part of Africa, standing below the familiar window. He smiled. The genie had done it! He wept with relief, and then collapsed to the ground in an exhausted slumber.
He was awakened some time later by the singing of birds. Aladdin’s heart was lighter than it had been in days. It was obvious that someone had stolen the lamp from him, but who? No one knew about it. He’d been very careful to keep its power secret, even from his wife (which we know was a mistake).
Meanwhile, in the palace, the princess had risen earlier than she had since being kidnapped to this godforsaken wilderness by the evil magician, who’s company she had to endure once a day every day, not unlike Belle and the Beast. Quite unlike her Disney princess counterpart in that story, however, the princess was cold and harsh to her captor. He was wise enough to realize that, if he tried to live in the palace with her, she might just slit his throat in his sleep, so she had the run of the place to herself. As she was dressing, one of her slaves happened to glance out the window. She gasped in shock at the sight of Prince Aladdin, drawing the princess’ eyes.
She flew to the window and threw it open, drawing Aladdin’s attention. She called him to come up to her, overjoyed to see the face that, despite their fairly rapey beginning, she had become quite fond of. The story says they were deeply in love by now, and who knows? Maybe they were. Either way, he raced to hold her and kiss her. “Princess, before we speak of anything else, I need you to tell me what happened to that beat up old lamp that was sitting in that little niche. It’s crazy important and I don’t have time to explain why.” “Oh. I had no idea that old thing was important. I gave it to a crazy old man who was giving away new lamps for old ones.”
She told him the whole story and, by the end of it, Aladdin had come to the conclusion that the old man must have been the African magician who had tried to use him all those years ago. The princess told him that the magician always carried the lamp with him. “I know because he pulled it out of his robes once to show me (not that I knew why I should care). He wants me to break my vows to you and marry him instead, claiming that my father beheaded you, which I know is ridiculous. He is constantly talking shit about you to try and drive a wedge between us, and I respond only with fury and tears, but I was beginning to worry that he was losing patience and would beat me until I agreed, or maybe just rape me and forget about marriage altogether.”
Aladdin decided not to bother her with how close he had come to actually getting beheaded by her father. There were more pressing matters. He told her to wait for him, and then headed out into the tiny town adjacent to the majestic palace. He traded clothes with the first person he found (who was only too happy to trade rags for finery) and found a merchant selling a particular powder that he needed, then returned. The princess let him in through a side door. “Put on your most beautiful dress and, when the magician comes to see you tonight, pretend you’ve had a change of heart. Be all smiles and coos and lead him into thinking you have given up on me. Invite him to dine with you and say you wish to taste the local wines. He’ll have to go get some, and when he’s gone, put this powder in his cup.”
She did exactly as instructed, dressing in a silk dress and a tiara of solid diamonds, and looking more beautiful than she had since being kidnapped (although more than a little of that might have been the newly blossoming hope). She threw her arms around the magician’s neck as he walked in the door that night. “If Aladdin were still alive, he’d have come for me by now, so fuck him. Tears won’t bring him back. Besides, you’re a handsome man yourself. Maybe you’d like to stay and have dinner? I’d love to try some of the wines from your home country. I’m tired of everything in my own cellar.” The magician never questioned this sudden change of heart, being entirely arrogant enough to believe that a grieving widow could flip a switch and throw herself at the asshole holding her captive.
The magician flew out of the castle to go and find the best possible wine to get this gorgeous lady drunk and pliable (he’s not a scrupulous man), leaving the princess alone to plant the powder in her own cup. After he poured, she handed the magician her own cup, saying it was a sign of her newfound commitment to him. He accepted it gladly, and toasted her beauty. It was clear he was winding up for a long-winded, flowery speech, so she cut him short. “Let us drink a little first, get a nice buzz going, and then I can properly bask in your words.” She placed his cup to her lips, not drinking anything (no sense in risking whatever magical shit the magician might have tried to slip her), while the magician drained his to the dregs. He lowered the cup, smiled oddly, then dropped bonelessly to the floor. His head hit the stone with a sickening crunch, leaving him double-dead.
The princess made sure he wasn’t getting back up (always check your kill), then raced to summon Aladdin. She flung her arms around his neck, and he hugged her back fiercely. She led him to the magician’s body and, even though she already knew everything, he still asked her to wait in her bedchamber while he fixed everything because Aladdin is kind of a dick. She agreed and Aladdin had the genie send the palace back home. The princess felt only two small bumps from the process, so she didn’t even realize they were home until Aladdin fetched her.
The Sultan had been sitting in his own palace, staring into the void where his daughter’s home should be, when there was a great rush of wind and then the palace was back where it was supposed to be. He rubbed his eyes, worried he was hallucinating in his grief, but the palace stayed stubbornly put. He hurried over, and was met by Aladdin and the princess. Aladdin told his father-in-law everything he had learned about what had happened and showed him the dead body of the kidnapping magician as proof and as a way of saying that vengeance had already been wrought. A ten day feast was proclaimed in honor of Aladdin’s achievement and in the hope that his life with his wife would be happy and peaceful to the end of his days.
Cue the happy music and the title cards, right? Not so fast. It turns out that the evil magician had a brother who was, if possible, even more wicked and cunning than he had been. He traveled to the Sultan’s city for vengeance as soon as he received word of his brother’s death. The story doesn’t explain how he knew who was responsible, but I’m guessing it’s some combination of messages from his brother and his own powerful sorcery.
His first stop was to the home of a pious woman named Fatima, well known as a good and honest woman. He knocked on her door and, when she answered, he thrust a knife against her breast hard enough to draw just a pinprick of blood. “Do exactly as I tell you, and you get to live. Disobey me in the slightest, and I will cut your fucking throat. Understand?” Fatima nodded, terrified, and led him into her room at his prompting. He stripped her naked and put on her clothes (although he could have easily worn anything else she owned, but he’s a cruel man and delighted in humiliating her). He had Fatima make his face up to look like hers, took her veil, and then rammed the dagger between her ribs, stepping back carefully to avoid splashing her blood on his stolen outfit. She died with a shocked look on her face, unprepared for his savage treachery.
The false Fatima left the corpse where it lay and headed for the palace. The crowd thought he was the holy woman, and they made way for him, kissing his hands and begging for his blessing. He played the part carefully, drawing a larger and larger crowd as he neared Aladdin. By the time he was outside the gates, he had masses gathered around him raising a ruckus. The noise was enough to draw the attention of the royals inside. One of the slaves peered out and told the princess that a holy woman was curing people in the courtyard.
The princess had heard stories of Fatima and longed to meet her. After the shit she’d been through lately, she could use a blessing or two. A slave was dispatched to ask Fatima to come to the palace for an audience with the princess. The false Fatima had been hoping for exactly that, and immediately agreed. He was ushered into the great hall, and he said a prayer for health and happiness over the princess. The princess thanked him effusively, and offered the false Fatima a place in the palace. The wicked magician happily accepted, carefully keeping the veil lowered in a false show of modesty.
The princess, delighted to have this holy woman under her roof, offered to give her a tour starting with the grand hall. “It’s magnificent, isn’t it? Aladdin really outdid himself with this. What do you think, Fatima?” “It’s lovely, no doubt. I think it might be missing one thing, though.” “Really? What’s that?” “This place would truly be one of the wonders of the world if it just had a roc’s egg hanging from the middle of the dome there.” The princess, who had never thought her home to be lacking anything at all, now found that she could think of nothing but a roc’s egg. She’s a very typical fairytale princess in that regard, not unlike the princess of Hindustan from last episode.
Aladdin returned from hunting (something that royalty spent entirely too much time doing) to find his wife disgruntled. “What’s wrong, my love?” “No, it’s silly. I’m being selfish.” “Come on, babe. What’s bothering you? You know that there is nothing I wouldn’t do to make you happy.” He finally talked her into spilling the beans, and she told him that Fatima had suggested hanging up a roc’s egg, and now she couldn’t seem to be satisfied without it. Aladdin laughed. “Is that all? That’s easy to fix. If all that’s making you unhappy is not having a roc’s egg, then you will soon be happy again.”
He left her and went to where he had hidden the lamp (hopefully in a better spot this time), and rubbed it to summon the genie. “What is thy wish, oh my master?” “Bring me a roc’s egg, genie.” Aladdin expected a puff of smoke and the requested item, but something entirely unexpected happened instead. The genie screamed in rage and hate, loud enough to shake the entire palace on its foundation. “You insufferable, ungrateful piece of shit! Is it not enough that I have done every single thing you have ever asked me, given you a life and a wife that you could never have had? You command me to fetch my master and hang him up here in the palace? You and your wife and your palace deserve to be burned to ashes and scattered on the fucking winds!” The genie paused for breath, clearly about to lay into Aladdin again, but he paused.
His head cocked to the side like a puppy, and he looked deeply into things that Aladdin could not see. “Ah, I see. Clever and ruthless. This wasn’t your idea, was it? It was put into your head by your wife, and into her head by the brother of the African magician you slayed. He is here, in your palace now, disguised as a holy woman. Take care, oh my master, for he means to see you dead. And he very nearly succeeded.”
The genie disappeared back into the lamp, leaving a shaken Aladdin to gather his thoughts and his nerve. He went back to the princess, complaining of a headache. “Fatima, could you lay your holy hands on me and heal this pain? It’s stopping me from getting the thing my wife desires most.” The false Fatima, eager to maintain the ruse and give Aladdin time to go and make the fatal request of the genie, approached, hands outstretched. Just before they touched, though, Aladdin pulled his dagger and drove it deep into the magician’s heart, killing him instantly. The princess shrieked in surprise and horror. “What have you done? Aladdin, you have slain a holy woman! We are surely damned!”
Aladdin pulled back the veil, revealing the magician’s face. “Not exactly, my love. This is not Fatima, but an imposter. The evil magician’s brother sought revenge. He killed Fatima and took her place. He is the man I have killed.” Reassured, the princess held her husband to her tightly, glad for his safety. After this, the magician had no more evil relatives, and so the couple lived in peace and prosperity thereafter, taking the throne and the title of sultan after his father-in-law’s passing. He reigned for many years and left behind him a long line of kings.
This is another of the classic tales where I can totally understand why Disney pared down the source material. It’s a complicated, convoluted story full of some needless twists and a hero who is hardly heroic. Aladdin starts out as lazy and self centered, unconcerned about who gets hurt as long as he gets what he wants, and that never really changes. He’s kind of an unlikable protagonist, unlike the Disney version who’s charmingly self-effacing. The vizier/evil magician/other totally different evil magician all get rolled into one evil character and are defeated with a little less murder. But now, it’s time to say goodbye to Agrabbah and hello to 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 roc.
Mentioned very briefly in this tale, as well as two other stories from the 1001 Nights, the roc is a massive mythical bird from several Middle Eastern mythologies and folk traditions, and likely has its origins in the Hindu myth of a fight between the solar bird Garuda and the chthonic, or subterranean, human-serpent monster Naga, as well as the story of Garuda carrying off an elephant battling a crocodile from the Sanskrit epics the Mahabharata and the Rambayana.
The roc was massive, said to be large enough to carry off an elephant in either talon. In some stories, the roc will carry the elephant up, drop it, and eat the resulting bloody mess. It’s shadow can plunge entire kingdoms into darkness, and the beat of its wings was said to create gusts of wind more powerful than a cyclone. Physically, it looks a lot like a giant eagle (think the eagle’s from Tolkein’s Lord of the Rings, but bigger) with an estimated wingspan of 48 feet or so thanks to stories from Marco Polo, famed explorer and fun pool game.
Polo claimed that he smelled what the roc was cooking on Madagascar from somewhere in the south and that the Great Khan of China sent messengers to the island, who returned with a feather (although modern historians suspect it was actually a rafia frond, a type of palm native to the southern islands. However, the most famous examples of the roc come from the stories of Sinbad the Sailor in the 1001 Nights. During his second voyage, the roc appears on a tropical island, tying in with Polo’s account and giving Madagascar a reputation for being home to giant mystical birds.
Given how little the story bothers to explain, by which I mean not at all, you’re probably wondering what the fuck got the genie’s feathers so ruffled by the request for a roc’s egg. I mean, it’s not like Aladdin wished for more wishes, or for the princess to fall in love, or any of the limitations on the genie’s power that Disney invented for the sake of narrative, so what gives? None of the other stories of the roc involve the djinn in any way, so why was the genie so mad about it? Now, given Hanna probably made this story up himself, it’s entirely possible that he just made up some bullshit about the roc without knowing what the fuck he’s talking about, but there is one possible explanation for what happened, courtesy of research from Writing in the Margins dot com.
It all links back to the stories of the simurgh, a Persian giant bird monster also capable of carrying off elephants in its talons. Iranian legends say that the simurgh is so old that it has seen the world destroyed and remade three times over, and is so wise as to be nearly all-knowing. Some tales have it plunging voluntarily into flames to be reborn from the ashes like the legendary phoenix. It is a being of healing and purity which bestows fertility, purifies unclean things, may have taught humans how to perform the Cesarean section, and represents the boundary between earth and sky.
The simurgh got mixed and mingled with other giant birds of legend, including Garduda and the roc (which sounds like an awesome buddy cop movie starring Dwayne Johnson). The eggs of the roc are said to grant eternal life and youth, and are highly sought after (which is why Sinband wants one). The djinn are creatures of shadow and flame, similar in kind to angels and demons, with powers far beyond those of humans. They can be good or evil, but as we saw back in Episodes 22A and B, they were bound by King Solomon, which is probably how the two in Aladdin ended up stuck in a ring and a lamp. In the Iraqi history Muruj al-dhahab, or the Meadows of Gold, the first ibises, marids, and ghouls (all varieties of djinn) are said to be hatched from the eggs laid by a bird-style jann (a precursor to the djinn), leading her to be styled as the Prince of Djinns, which would explain why a roc egg could have caused such a ruckus. Of course, that’s all just speculation. It could just be some nonsense made up by a silver-tongued liar in the deserts of Syria.
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. I want to thank Windsong3099 for the 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’ll stick with our theme of deserts and dicks. You’ll learn that all hippos look alike, that people have always done weird things with their penises, and you should never piss off the sun. Then, in Gods and Monsters, we’ll meet a baboon with a truly massive erection. That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.