Episode 110 – Love’s Labor’s Lost – Myths Your Teacher Hated

Episode 110 Show Notes

Source: Algonquin Folklore

This week on MYTH, it’s our more or less annual Valentine’s romance special. You’ll meet the sexier cousin of Frosty the Snowman, an old school mean girl, and a wandering spirit with a taste for vengeance. Then, in Gods and Monsters, we’ll look for love out under the pine trees at sunset. 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 110, “Love’s Labour’s Lost”. As always, this episode is not safe for work.
We’re about a week out from Valentine’s Day, which seems like a perfect time to climb onto the wild rollercoaster that is mythological love stories. As we’ve seen over the past six plus years, when you have larger than life figures, you also have larger than life romantic mishaps and misunderstandings as bewildering as anything from the Hallmark channel’s endless slew of romantic comedies. This indigenous story comes originally from the Algonquin tribe of modern Quebec and Ontario and was transcribed in the Native American Myths collection edited by Jake Jackson.
If you’re familiar with the Megami Tensei video game series or its spinoffs (such as the popular Persona games) you might have encountered this story’s protagonist Moowis as a boss but he originally comes from this tale. Long ago, in a northern village of the Algonquin tribe, there lived a young maiden who was famed across the entire area for her incredible beauty. Each and every day, a host of admirers and would-be suitors would make the arduous trek to this village to line up outside of her father’s lodge in the hopes of catching even a glimpse of her legendary splendor.
They came so frequently and in such great numbers that they soon wore down a very obvious path through the village and up to the door. On the one hand, this was an annoying headache that got in everyone’s way (especially the girl’s father) – on more than one occasion, he considered sending her away to live with distant relatives in the hopes of ending the daily pilgrimage. On the other hand, his heart burned with fierce pride that his daughter had such an effect on the local young men and he hoped that one day soon, a deserving young warrior would finally present himself to her and ride away with the man’s daughter as his bride.
As for the young maiden, whose name was Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa, she found herself reveling in all of the masculine attention. Being adored by everyone who spoke to her and treated as almost an avatar of loveliness went to her head. It’s understandable, especially for a young woman probably in her late teens, but it still turned her into kind of a shitty person. She soon stopped seeing her fans and suitors as actual people with, you know, feelings that could be hurt and began instead to treat them as her personal playthings. Many of them were entirely sincere in their interest and intentions (though there were definitely more than a few sleazeballs thrown into the mix, which can definitely sour the whole batch), but she stopped seeing them as anything but beams of adoration for her to bask in.
It was during all of this that Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa caught the attention of a handsome young brave named Ma-mon-da-gin-in-e. He fell deeply in love with the young maiden, despite having never met her or spoken a single word to her – which is either romantic as hell or utterly ludicrous depending on the context and his upcoming behavior. He wanted nothing more than to take her as his beloved bride but, being of a very kind and sensitive nature, it took him many weeks to work up the nerve to actually go and try to speak to her. Aww, he’s shy! Mind racing over what to say when he arrived, Ma-mon-da-gin-in-e rode to the lodge where Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa lived. When she came out to meet with the handsome young suitor, he knelt at her feet and began to speak eloquently about the depths of passion lashing his agonized soul. He gushed about how he could no longer sleep thanks to the pain of his love for her and how the things he had once loved to do now paled beside her beauty and left him bored and listless. If this had come in act three of the rom-com, it probably would have been met with sweeping music and a teary declaration of love from the young maiden, but this is still act one and shit’s about to break bad.
The young woman looked this young man in his big, soulful eyes and laughed right in his fucking face. She laughed and she laughed and when it seemed that she might finally be over her hurtful humor, she called over her friends and began to loudly mock the young man. She raised her voice deliberately to carry, wanting to humiliate him before the entire village. I completely get not being into this dude. He’s heartfelt and sincere, sure, but that level of gushing to someone you don’t know the first fucking thing about can come off as awkward and creepy. I don’t even blame her for laughing. I’ve definitely had moments where I was so uncomfortable and anxious about what was happening that I found myself laughing despite finding nothing at all the least bit funny. She doesn’t owe this guy jack shit and no one would blame her for turning him down flat, no matter how flowery his words.
Where her reaction goes from understandable to cruel is when she calls in her friends to mock him to his face and to make sure that everyone throughout the village hears it. He went a little over the top with his declaration of undying love, sure, but as far as I can tell he was following socially acceptable protocol and hadn’t done anything untowards or cringy. And the mockery didn’t stop after she finally walked away from his crestfallen figure. She went around the entire village keeping up her running tirade very loudly such that, by sundown, there wasn’t a person in the village who didn’t know the story. Ma-mon-da-gin-in-e slunk out of the village in deep shame and despair. Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa had humiliated him in front of literally everyone he knew for no good reason.
Devastated by her ridicule, the sensitive young brave hid out in the relative safety of the solitude of his lodge . For a solid week, he sat on the ground staring blankly at the wall. He didn’t eat; he didn’t sleep; he didn’t speak. The time was coming for the annual migration down to their summer lodgings but, even as his friends and family began packing up and preparing for the journey, Ma-mon-da-gin-in-e stayed where he was. His only concession was to move from the middle of the room to the couch, making it a little easier for his friends and family to pack up his things for him. It was a kind gesture on their part since they understood just how deeply the poor guy had been wounded. Everyone did. Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa had made sure of that.
At last it was time for everyone to leave, but still Ma-mon-da-gin-in-e lay on the couch in a silent stupor. Not sure what else to do, his family packed up his things and took everything with them to the summer lodgings, leaving the devastated young man all alone in a silent, empty village. Once everyone was gone, the still solitude revived the young man’s spirit just a little. He began to pray to a powerful manitou, a potent spirit with great power, asking for assistance in getting his revenge on the cruel woman who had disgraced and humiliated him.
He prayed and he prayed and soon, there was an answer. It wasn’t as clear cut as a voice from the air or anything, but his hopelessness and depression eased and he felt a strong compulsion to go from empty lodge to empty lodge, gathering scraps of ragged cloth, bright beads, beautiful feathers, and other assorted baubles. These items had belonged to the other villagers but had been left behind in all the hubbub of moving. All of this, the young man gathered into a pile in the center of the village. Once he had everything he needed, Ma-mon-da-gin-in-e began to sew.
The pieces of cloth were sewed together into a coat and breeches, which he trimmed with the most beautiful of the feathers and beads. He then went on another hunt through the village, returning with all of the discarded animal bones he could find. These he assembled and wove together into a fairly passable facsimile of a human skeleton. This, he coated with freshly-fallen snow and thick red clay, molding and sculpting it into the shape of a tall human man. He spent a great deal of time on the features, ensuring that they were noble and handsome and incredibly beautiful to behold. Calling again on the manitou for help, Ma-mon-da-gin-in-e breathed onto his snowy creation, imbuing it with a life of its own. Placing a bow in one hand and a bundle of arrows in the other, the young brave stepped back to admire his creation of mud, snow, bones, and rags.
The figure was perfect. Ma-mon-da-gin-in-e couldn’t have been happier with the outcome and he smiled broadly, exhausted but satisfied. “I think I shall call you Moowis. Come, handsome stranger – follow me and we can have a little chat about why you were sent to this body I crafted and how I hope you can help me with a problem in my life.” Putting his arm around Moowis’ slightly confuzzled shoulder, the two men walked out of the village and began the long trek towards the summer lodgings.
When the two arrived at the camp, well after everyone else had already arrived and set up, it caused quite a stir. First because, for all the cruel mockery that Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa had heaped on his head, the young brave was extremely well-liked around the village. People were genuinely thrilled to see him returned to them happy and healthy. Second (but only by a slim margin), everyone was absolutely consumed with curiosity about the unexpected appearance of this mysterious, handsome, and very sexy stranger. Everyone confirmed with everyone else that no one had ever seen him before, so it seemed likely that he had come from somewhere far off on some mysterious quest. The complete lack of information only added to the mystique and the rumors swirling through the village that night.
The tribe’s chief invited Moowis to feast with him and his family that night, both because it was the hospitable thing to do and because he was just as curious as everyone else. All of the eligible young maidens (and probably a few of the not-so-eligible ones) lined up outside the chief’s lodge to catch a glimpse of the stranger’s handsome face. His gaze made every heart flutter as it swept across the assembled ladies. And, as intended, none was so taken by this ravishing young man than Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa herself.
While everyone else whispered and stared, Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa decided to march up and speak to Moowis. By now, she had grown quite accustomed to having pretty much every young man utterly wrapped around her fingers and at her mercy, so she figured it would be child’s play to turn him into putty in her hands as well. She strode confidently up to Moowis and Ma-mon-da-gin-in-e and requested that they both join her at her own lodge early the same afternoon (after their meal the chief of course – certain niceties did still have to be observed, even by haughty young people). It was pretty damned audacious to expect the guy that you literally humiliated so badly that he went into a catatonic state the last time you saw him to hang with you, but the young woman certainly had audacity in spades. The two accepted her invitation. All was going according to plan.
At the appointed time, the two young men presented themselves at Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa’s lodge. Plenty of people watched as the trio met up, curious as to how this volatile situation would unfold. To their surprise, it was Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa who seemed to have relented. It was like some kind of transformation had washed over her since Moowis’ arrival. She bent over backwards trying to make him happy and comfortable, when she had always expected her suitors to grovel at her feet for whatever scraps she might toss to them. She even went so far as to offer the beautiful stranger her father’s chair, a great honor as it was the most comfortable place to sit as well as being the closest to the roaring fire (for it was still early, early spring and the air had plenty of winter’s bite left in it, which makes sense considering Moowis is partly made of snow).
Of course, given that snow was very heavy in the mix in his formation, sitting right next to the fire was a terrible, terrible idea. It wasn’t like Moowis could explain this without giving up his secret. Thus, he very gently and very politely refused her generous offer. This could have come off as insulting, but so smooth and kind were his words (and his beautiful face didn’t hurt things) that it instead read as incredibly humble and magnanimous. Everyone fell just a little more in love with Moowis, especially Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa. Mostly ignored in his definitely less comfortable chair, Ma-mon-da-gin-in-e suppressed a self-satisfied smile. Things were going perfectly.
In fact, they were going so unbelievably perfectly that, the very next day, Moowis announced his intention to marry Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa. Within a week, the chief married the happy couple and they began their lives together. Of course, you and I both know that Moowis wasn’t at all who he was pretending to be. They lived in wedded bliss for a short time, just long enough for Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa to get settled into happiness, and then the next step in the plan kicked off.
Gathering up his bow and arrows, Moowis kissed his wife on the forehead. “I must leave you, my wife. I have to embark on a long, arduous journey and it will be very dangerous.” The young woman gazed up at her husband with big, soulful eyes. If you’ve seen the new Puss in Boots movie, imagine any of the critters giving the magic giant eyes direct to the camera and you’ll be in the right ballpark. “Can’t I come with you, my husband?” Moowis shook his head. “It is far, far too dangerous. I could never forgive myself if something happened to you. No, I’m afraid you must stay here.” Here’s the kicker – all of this is bullshit. Ma-mon-da-gin-in-e had instructed his creation to woo his cruel tormenter, marry her, and then leave her behind on a made-up dangerous journey.
Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa took her husband’s hand in hers and kissed it tenderly. “I beg you to reconsider, my love. There are no dangers in this world that I would not willingly share with you. Please do not leave me behind.” This stirred a powerful wave of pity in Moowis’ artificial breast and, for the first time in his short existence, he felt deeply conflicted. Telling his wife he would consider her request, he went to speak with Ma-mon–da-gin-in-e about his feelings. The young man listened to Moowis’ story with a growing smile. By the time Moowis finished up, he was positively beaming. “That’s fantastic! I’m thrilled to see that she’s so devoted to you, especially in such a short time. This is what we were hoping for. That cruel woman has never listened to the voice of reason and prudence in her life, and she won’t do so now. It’s her own folly and ego driving her to want to go with you, but it’s about time for her to face her fate. Let her come along with you, if she insists. She’s going to get what she deserves.”
Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa was ecstatic to hear that her husband had relented and agreed to let her come with him. That joy lasted until the next day. Moowis set out into the wilderness, the ground rough and broken and difficult. Being a tough and hardy brave by design, the young man set a fast pace, intent on making good time to…somewhere. I’m not sure Moowis had any clear idea of where he was going exactly. This wasn’t about the destination, it was about the journey. Quite literally.
It didn’t take long for Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa to start falling behind. She was accustomed to a life of idleness and ease, having never had to do a day’s hard labor in her life. In fact, she’d never really had to do anything hard and no part of her was used to it. This trip, which was forcing her to hike up fairly steep hills, was the hardest thing she’d ever tried. Her tender feet were soon cut to bloody ribbons and her pace began to slow. Per his instructions, Moowis didn’t let up. As day turned to night, he pulled farther and farther ahead of his wife. By the time Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa finally crested the rugged hills, Moowis had already passed through the small, dark wood on the other side and beyond to the vast, empty plains. Feet ragged and bloody, Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa was forced to stop and rest for the night. She had never worked this hard in her life or endured this much pain, and she simply could not go any farther today.
Moowis never slackened his pace, walking through the night and leaving his wife far behind. He had been out of her sight for a while by the time the morning sun rose and drove away the dull gray clouds overhead. The air warmed quickly, finally melting the snow still covering the earth from the winter just past. His feet began to trod on bare, sun-kissed earth for the first time. It was nice. Moowis kept walking and, after some time, he noticed bright beads appearing on his skin. Not sweat, but literal beads. The sparkling glass came away easily but fell between fingers that were now just ivory bones jutting out of collapsing mud. Oh shit. Moowis had kind of forgotten the whole ‘I’m made of snow’ thing. In a very Frosty the Snowman moment, the spring sun was thawing him out, only he didn’t have a magical deus ex machina to fly him away to the north pole. Moowis was helpless to stop himself from melting clean away. He dissolved into a puddle and his fine garments rotted away, leaving behind nothing but a pile of bones and beads draped in rags. I’m going to assume that whatever manitou answered Ma-mon–da-gin-in-e’s fervent prayers returned back to its freewheeling spirit existence so that this heartbreaking death of Moowis has a silver lining.
With the sun up and providing some faint sense of hope, Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa arose and climbed to her aching feet to resume her trek. Wincing with every step, she set off in the direction she knew her beloved husband had gone. Her journey was even more grueling than it had been the day before; she was starting the day already sore, exhausted, and wounded. Every step was agony, but Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa was determined and she forced herself on through the wood, across the marshlands, and out onto the plains. He had at least left her a clear trail, so she had no trouble following him.
It took most of the next day, but the young bride finally came to the place where Moowis had melted away in the sun. She found the pile of bones and beads draped in rags. Looking at them more closely, she realized that some of these rags were familiar – they had once been part of her missing husband’s fine garments! Fuck! Something had clearly happened to Moowis. Something bad. Her mind created visions of the awful fates that might have befallen him, each more bloody and horrible than the last. None of them came anywhere close to the truth because of course they didn’t. Who would ever assume their missing spouse was actually a spirit inhabiting a body made of snow, mud, and junk as part of a complicated magical revenge plot?
Terrified and confused, Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa called out, hoping the wind would carry her voice to his ears somehow. “Moowis! Moowis! Nin ge won e win ig: ne won e wig!” which roughly translates to ‘Moowis! Moowis! You have led me astray: I cannot find my way!” The young bride waited, but her husband’s voice did not rise up in response. She was alone. That terrified her even more than finding his clothes draped on a mound of old, dirty bones. Frantic, she ran as fast as her ruined feet could carry her. She searched through the forests, she crawled over the jagged rocks, she tore through brambles that clawed bloody lines on her soft skin – she searched high and low for any sign of her husband, hoping desperately to see him walking on the horizon so she could follow him again.
Years passed, and still Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa searched. She called out until her throat was ragged, her voice hoarse. She ran until she dropped from exhaustion, then climbed to her feet and ran again. Her body became stooped and twisted from hard use, fear, and sorrow, and her face became lined with her depression and terror. On and on and on she went, never stopping her search for longer than she absolutely had to. Her body weakened until, one day, she fell for the last time. She’d given everything she had in her search for Moowis, and now there was nothing left. Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa died all alone with her husband’s name on her lips.
No sooner had her heart stopped beating than her spirit rose from her ruined body. It rose up above the spot where she had died in fear and pain, high into the heavens where it could hopefully be at peace at last. Legend says that, to this day, her voice can still be heard on the winds in the lonely places, sorrow still tingeing her words as she searches on for her long-lost husband. “Moowis! Moowis! Nin ge won e win ig: ne won e wig!”
How’s that for a romantic tragedy for the ages? It’s a wild rollercoaster of a tale, with the two initial main characters swapping roles halfway through the story. Initially, I was mostly on Ma-mon-da-gin-in-e’s side. Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa had every right to turn him down of course, but there was no need to be so damned cruel about it. She clearly didn’t see him as a real person with real feelings, just a chew toy to be ripped up and spat out when it wasn’t fun anymore.
When he sets out on his magical vengeance plot however, he loses me. I get wanting to knock her down a peg (especially in the mythology world that often requires balance and a redress of grievances), but he went way, way too far. Moowis seems to have genuinely cared for his wife (at least as much as he was able to, being a construct made explicitly for revenge) and Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa clearly loved the absolute shit out of him. This terrible plot didn’t balance the scales, it made Ma-mon-da-gin-in-e very much the villain. This was basically a murder that just took a few years to take full effect. Tragic. I hope he at least felt a little guilty about what happened, but something tells me he slept just fine at night. So-called Nice Guys never seem to care about the damage they do. And so with Moowis the Snow Husband gone back to the sky, 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 romantic lead is the girl who married a pine tree.
This tale also comes from the Native American Myths collection and does not provide a clear source for the story. It’s one of a few issues I have with this particular collection. Given one of the creatures referenced in the story, my best guess is that this comes from the Wampanoag people of what is now Massachusetts.
High on the side of a local mountain, there once grew a stand of pine trees. This was a fairly remote place, so Pukwudgies (whose name can roughly be translated as ‘little man of the woods that vanishes’ would often frolic and play through the shadows of these lonely pines. These little spirits were said to be able to appear and vanish at will as well as being accomplished shapeshifters. Their most common form (though it was anyone’s guess if this is their true form or not) is a tiny troll with a back full of porcupine quills. The Pukwudgies are mischief makers, known to delight in leading people to their deaths, using magic to play pranks and cause mayhem, fire poison arrows from hiding, and create fire (and thus chaos) in unexpected places.
These trees were pretty far from most human habitation, but there was one small, isolated lodge. In it lived a man and his wife with their beautiful daughter, Leelinau. They lived a quiet, happy existence until one fateful day when a young man came to pay a visit to the girl’s parents. The story doesn’t say what errand brought him out so far, but it had to have been something fairly important to make the trek. Whatever it was, he fell head over heels in love with the young maiden as soon as he laid eyes on her. He went to her father and asked for Leelinau’s hand in marriage, and the old man consented to the match.
You know who didn’t consent to marrying off Leelinau to this stranger? Leelinau! She objected quite strenuously. The men were set on this course of action however, so she did the only thing she could – she ran the fuck away. Slipping out of the lodge unnoticed, Leelinau escaped the situation and ran up the mountain slope to get away. The only shelter she could easily see, which was also the only good hiding place, was that lonely stand of pine trees, so that’s where she went. Tired and hungry (and a little scared about spending the night alone in the wild, even in such a familiar, comfortable place as the stand of pines), she leaned against a particularly handsome tree as the sun was setting and bemoaned her fate. Speaking aloud to the setting sun and the winds, she told the whole story and wept. “What am I going to do? I can’t hide out here forever, but if I go back they’ll surely force me to marry that weird asshole. There’s no way out.”
The breeze picked up a little, blowing through the branches overhead. A voice carried on the wind, and Leelinau could have sworn that it came from the very tree she was resting against. “Why not marry me instead and be my wife, brave Leelinau, beautiful Leelinau?” Startled, Leelinau jumped to her feet and peered into the branches of the pine tree for the speaker, but there was no one there. As she looked hard at the tree, the words came again. This time, she realized that it was the tree itself who was speaking.
The young woman considered. She’d never imagined marrying a tree before (because who would), but maybe it wasn’t such an outrageous idea. She couldn’t marry creepy mcweirdface if she was already married. Besides, it was indeed a very handsome tree and she’d always felt a deep kinship with the wild places in general and with this grove in particular. “You know what? Let’s do this. I will be your wife, proud tree.”
It didn’t take long for Leelinau’s parents to realize that their daughter had slipped out of the house and disappeared. They were worried about her, especially when she didn’t come back the next morning. Or the day after that. Search parties were soon organized to go and look for the missing maiden, but they had no luck. Leelinau had vanished into the wind and was gone. She never came back. Hunters who have wandered along that mountain in the years since say that, if you come upon the trees at sunset, you might just see a beautiful young woman walking with a handsome young man, both of them smiling and happy. If you try to approach them though, they vanish leaving only the tall, silent trees to greet you.
This story felt like a nice counterbalance to the tragedy of the main tale. It’s nice to see someone escape a doom to find a happy existence they never imagined possible. It also gives me big Baucis and Philemon energy (from Valentine’s Episode 26B), making it very near and dear to my heart as that is one of my all-time favorite stories from mythology (though this one is now in the mix as well).
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, on Vurbl, and on Spotify, or you can follow us on Twitter as @HardcoreMyth, on Instagram as Myths Your Teacher Hated Pod, and on Tumblr as MythsYourTeacherHated. You can also find news and episodes on our website at myths your teacher hated dot com. 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.
Next time, we’re headed to ancient Denmark for a new take on some themes we’ve seen before – in 39A through I and then again way, way back in Episode 7. You’ll see that it’s a great idea to sell your daughter to a bear, that the north wind is kind of an asshole, and that you should never ask a troll to clean your favorite shirt. Then, in Gods and Monsters, we’ll meet an ancient king who’s mostly famous for taking credit for other people’s work. That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.