The King of the Golden River

First written in 1842, and published in 1851, this original fairytale by the nineteenth-century art critic John Ruskin takes as its inspiration the classic folkloric trope of three brothers who all embark upon the same quest. Not surprisingly, the three meet very different fates when they attempt to take advantage of a proposition made by the magical King of the Golden River.

Although similar in structure to many traditional folktales I have read, Ruskin's tale has the unmistakable flavor of the nineteenth-century morality tale, perhaps explaining why I didn't enjoy it as much as I thought I would... My edition of this classic original fairy tale is illustrated with color plates by Arthur Rackham, and was published in 1932.

While written pretty much in the style of a fairy tale---with lots more descriptions of scenery---it feels more like a lesson on the value of kindness (and physical appearance) than a fairy tale. In other words, a story meant to instruct rather than one told for the fun of it. I was disappointed. There are three brothers; the first two are mean and ugly and dark and the third is young and kind and blond and handsome.

SPOILER: The brothers live in an idyllic valley, where Hans and Schwartz become filthy rich by treating their employees badly and charging excessive amounts for their crops when people are desperate and starving. Gluck's kindness is to wind and river spirits is rewarded, Hans and Schwartz turn into black stones because they show more fail in their quests by letting others die of thirst. We learn that holy water can become unholy if it is not used mercifully. It seems the brothers are Catholic(?) because there are holy water and good and bad priests and going to mass. The introduction, however, states that Ruskin was raised to become a minister by his Scottish parents.

The introduction gives a brief biography of Ruskin. An interesting comment is made about thirty million British books destroyed in the blitz in 1941: Ruskin's other book for children was one of the first to appear in color for sixpence. show less

“The King of the Golden River was written in 1841, at the request of a very young lady, and solely for her amusement, without any idea of publication…” The very young lady was the twelve-year-old Effie Gray and the writer was John Ruskin, ten years her senior. Ruskin was eventually to marry Effie in 1848 but the marriage foundered and was annulled, Effie then marrying the artist John Everett Millais. All that turbulence was in the future, however, and Effie must have been delighted with her present, along with later generations too after the tale was published in 1851.

The Brothers Grimm had issued the first edition of their Children’s and Household Tales back in 1812, initiating a public enthusiasm for what were called fairy show more tales by English-speakers. Ruskin gave a nod to German-speaking primacy in this genre by setting his story in ‘Stiria’ or Styria, a mountainous region straddling modern Austria and Slovenia. Like many of the Grimms’ tales (which the brothers were continually re-writing and ‘improving’ in successive editions) there is a strong moral dimension to Ruskin’s literary tale which has led commentators to label it a fable or parable. Who knows if the young Euphemia was aware of the overt import of Ruskin’s morality tale or whether she instinctively accepted it as natural corollary of prevailing Victorian values, values shared by many readers today.

In five chapters (no genuinely oral folktale would have chapters!) the tale is told of the three Black Brothers, Hans (that is, Johannes, John in English), Schwartz (in German this simply means ‘black’) and Gluck (‘luck’). Many of the traditional fairytale tropes are in place: the youngest brother is the last but not the least; he who shows compassion without expectation of reward will be rewarded; supernatural helpers are on hand to offer guidance or punishment. The two older brothers, grasping and cruel, are unwelcoming of South-West Wind, Esquire, and thus suffer retribution in the loss of their farm and livelihood. They don’t learn their lesson, however, and when they move to town to become goldsmiths their greed results in near penury. Into this potential disaster there appears to Gluck the King of the Golden River in very singular form, with the promise of riches for the one who succeeds in completing a task to the letter.

“Whoever shall climb to the top of that mountain from which you see the Golden River issue, and shall cast into the stream at its source three drops of holy water, for him, and for him only, the river shall turn to gold. But no one failing in his first, can succeed in a second attempt; and if any one shall cast unholy water into the river, it will overwhelm him, and he will become a black stone.”

This being an improving fairy tale the reader may guess the final outcome.

The King of the Golden River isn’t perfect — the pacing is occasionally uneven, the odd explanation is rushed, and we miss the formulaic repetition of wording which is such a satisfying feature of oral tales. But this is a narrative that is compelling and which lingers in the memory, not least the environmental messages which apply even more urgently today.

My memories are enhanced by the original distinctive line illustrations by Richard Doyle which graced several re-publications over the decades, but the story has proved popular with several other artists such as Arthur Rackham and Charles Stewart providing colour as well as monochrome images. Did Effie rely solely on Ruskin’s words to create the scenes in her mind’s eye or did Ruskin himself provide some illustrations, now lost? The children's author Diana Wynne Jones recounts how as a child evacuated to the Lake District during the Second World War she inadvertently rubbed out some line drawings, mostly of flowers, that she’d discovered in a cottage: they turned out to be by John Ruskin. It’s sheer speculation of course, but it’s tempting to wonder if they included sketches for that fairy tale he wrote for another little girl, almost exactly a century before.

http://wp.me/s2oNj1-river show less

I often don't like the early Victorian fairy tales as they are often long-winded versions of things that are best told in a fairly compressed form. I was about to give up on this one when the descriptions of the scenery got longish, but then I saw how he was using his artistic and Romantic sensibilities, and I actually found the rest of the tale quite interesting. I would have expected children to be asleep somewhere after page 2, but another review posted here says not.

A most excellent children's story, brainashing the little ones most delightfully with the idea that meanness and selfishness brings hell, and kindness brigns its own rewards. There is just NOTHING about this work not to like, but that's not surprising when you remember that RFuskin was Aereric's firt naturalist novelist

*JOHN RUSKIN, 'The King of the Golden River'

This is the only work of fiction that the prolific and multi-talented Ruskin wrote. However, it manages to encapsulate a great many of the ideals that we think of today, when we think of Ruskin. It has the emphasis on 'Christian' mercy and charity, generosity over greed, and, to an almost distracting degree, the love of the beauties of nature. Indeed, the main 'message' of the tale is that natural bounty is what should be valued more than gold.

The piece wraps its morals in the tale of a young boy and his two cruel and greedy brothers. When a generous act leads to the youngest brother being granted the secret of 'how to turn a river to gold,' he confides in his siblings - but their lack of show more charity leads to their demise; leaving the reward for the sorely put-upon but unfailingly upstanding hero. show less

Not a bad moral tale, but the words were too uncommon for easy understanding by younger children.
Gluck meekly obeys his brothers commands, is beaten by them when he doesn't, but still has a good heart. His brothers are turned to stone when they try to take shortcuts to gold and ignore pleas for help.