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The Story of The Hard Nut
The Story of the Hard Nut
PIRLIPAT'S MOTHER was a king's wife. That made her a queen, and the moment she was born Pirlipat was a princess. The king was beside himself with joy over his beautiful daughter, who lay in her cradle. He cheered and danced and hopped about on one foot, and shouted over and over again:
DRUMS ROLLED and trumpets blared. The princes and potentates appeared in their resplendent robes of state, some on white palfreys, others in crystal coaches. Crown on head and scepter in hand, the king welcomed them and took his seat at the head of the table. During the liver-sausage course the king became visibly pale and his eyes turned heavenward. Sighs escaped from his breast; some unspeakable pain seemed to be gnawing at his vitals. But during the blood-sausage course he sobbed and groaned and slumped in his chair, burying his face in his hands.
Maurice Sendak's introduction to E.T.A. Hoffmann's Nutcracker
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E.T.A Hoffmann's "Nutcracker" illustrated by Maurice Sendak Tchaikovsky: The Nutcracker / Gergiev, Kirov Orchestra Nutcracker: The Motion Picture (1986)
Tchaikovsky's "Nutcracker" on the Web 
..."You'll have to admit that Nutcracker is no great beauty. Now, if you like, I shall tell you how such ugliness came into his family. Oh yes, it's been handed down from generation to generation. Or maybe you already know the story of Princess Pirlipat, the witch Mouserinks, and the clever clockmaker?"
"Hey, Godfather Drosselmeier," Fritz interrupted, "you've put Nutcracker's teeth in just right, and his jaw isn't as wobbly as it was, but why hasn't he got a sword? Why haven't you given him one?"
"My dear boy," said Drosselmeier testily, "you always have to complain. Why should I worry about Nutcracker's sword? I've cured his bodily ills; it's up to him to find himself a sword if he wants to."
"That's a fact," said Fritz. "If he's worth his salt, he'll get himself the weapons he needs."
"Alright, Marie," the judge went on. "Tell me if you know the story of Princess Pirlipat."
"No, I don't. Oh, tell it, Godfather Drosselmeier."
"I hope," said the child's mother, 'I do hope, dear judge, that this story won't be as gruesome as your stories usually are."
"Oh no, dear lady," said Drosselmeier. "On the contrary, this is a fairy story."
"Oh, tell it, tell it, dear Godfather," the children cried. And the Judge began.
"Hurrah! Has anyone ever seen anything as beautiful as MY little Pirlipat?"
And all his ministers, generals, counselors, and staff officers hopped about on one foot like their sovereign, and shouted: "No! Never!"
And indeed it was undeniable that no more beautiful child than Princess Pirlipat had been born since the world began. Her little face might have been woven of the finest lily-white and rose-red silk, her eyes were like sparkling azure stones, and her curly locks were like threads of gold. What's more, little Pirlipat was born with two rows of pearly white teeth, with which, two hours later, she bit the Lord Chancellor's finger when he bent low to get a closer look at her features, making him scream "Oh, jiminy!", though it is also claimed that he just said, "Ouch!" On this score opinions are divided to this day, but Pirlipat definitely bit the chancellor's finger, and the whole kingdom was delighted at this indication that spirit, energy, and perspicacity were housed in Pirlipat's exquisite little frame.
In short, everyone was happy. Only the queen seemed troubled, though no one knew why For one thing, she arranged for Pirlipat to be closely guarded. In addition to the sentries at the doors and two ladies-in waiting sitting close to the baby's cradle, there had to be six nurses in the room at night. But what seemed utterly absurd and beyond understanding was that each of the six nurses had to hold a tomcat on her lap and stroke him so busily all night that he would never stop purring. Dear children, you couldn't possibly guess why Pirlipat's mother had to take all these precautions, but I know, and I'll tell you without delay.
On a certain occasion a number of excellent kings and charming princes had foregathered at the court of Pirlipat's father. Brilliant entertainment was provided, including tournaments, comedies, and balls. To show that he had adequate supplies of gold and silver, the king had decided to dig deeply into the royal treasury and treat his guests to something really splendid. So, when the royal head cook informed him that the court astronomer had informed him that the time was right for pork butchering, the king resolved to provide a sumptuous sausage feast. He hopped into his carriage and drove about, personally inviting all the kings and princes to "a simple spoonful of soup," as he put it-for he wished to enjoy their surprise. And then he said amiably to the queen, "You know, my dear, how I like sausages prepared."
The queen knew exactly what he meant. He meant that she herself should perform the useful duty of sausage making, as she had done on other occasions. The Chancellor of the Exchequer was ordered to remove the big golden sausage kettle and the silver casseroles from the great sandalwood. The queen put on her damask apron, and soon the kettle was steaming with delicious sausage broth, whose fragrance penetrated even to the council chamber. Overcome with delight, the king could not control himself "Just a moment, gentlemen!" he cried, and he ran to the kitchen, hugged the queen, and stirred the kettle for a moment with his golden scepter. That calmed him, and he went back to the council chamber.
The critical moment came when the fat had to be cut into small cubes and browned on silver spits. The ladies-in-waiting withdrew, because the queen, out of love and respect for her royal husband, wished to perform this task alone. But when the fat began to sizzle, a faint whisper was heard. "Sister," said the voice, "give me some of that. I'm a queen too, and I too want something good to eat."
The queen knew who it was. it was Madam Mouserinks, who had been living in the royal palace for many years and claimed to be related to the royal family. She called herself the queen of Mousolia and had a large retinue under the stave. The queen was a kindly woman. Though unwilling to acknowledge Madam Mouserinks as her sister, she was glad to let her share in the feast. "Very well, Madam Mouserinks," she said. "Come right out. Of course you may have some of my crispy fat."
So Madam Mouserinks came hopping out, jumped up on the stove, and with her pretty little paws grabbed one little cube of fat after another as the queen forked them out to her. But then all Madam Mouserinks's aunts and uncles came running, and even her seven sons, who were dreadful little rascals. They flung themselves on the fat, and the terrified queen found it impossible to fend them off. Luckily, the head lady-in-waiting came in and chased the intruders away before the fat was all gone. The court mathematician was called in, and what was left of it was carefully divided in accordance with his calculations.
Everyone jumped up. The court physician tried in vain to feel the unfortunate king's pulse. Some deep, mysterious suffering seemed to be tearing him to pieces. Drastic remedies — feather quills and the like — were attempted. The queen pleaded with him to tell her what was wrong. At length he seemed to recover a little, and muttered almost inaudibly: "Not enough fat."
In despair the queen fell at his feet, sobbing. "Oh, my poor unfortunate royal husband!" she cried. "Oh, what sufferings you have endured. You see the culprit here at your feet. Punish her, punish her severely. Alack alas! Madam Mouserinks with her seven sons and her aunts and uncles ate up the fat and..." With that, the queen fell back in a faint.
The king jumped up in a rage and cried aloud, "Chief lady-in- waiting, how did this happen?"
The chief lady-in-waiting told him as much as she knew, and the king resolved to avenge himself on Madam Mouserinks and her family, who had eaten the fat that should have been in the sausage. The privy council was summoned, and it was decided that Madam Mouserinks should be tried for her life and that all her property should be confiscated. But since the king feared that she might go on eating his fat in the meantime, the whole matter was referred to the court clockmaker and wizard.
This man, whose name was the same as mine, Christian Elias Drosselmeier, promised to drive Madam Mouserinks and her family from the palace forever by an act of astute statesmanship. What he actually did was invent certain ingenious machines, to which small pieces of fat were attached by threads, and place them all over Madam Mouserinks's apartment. Madam Mouserinks was far too shrewd to be enticed by Drosselmeier's contraptions, but all her warnings, all her remonstrances, were in vain. Lured by the pungent smell of browned fat, all seven sons and any number of aunts and uncles went straight to Drosselmeier's engines of destruction. When they tried to nibble the fat, a gate suddenly fell and they were captured, whereupon they were taken to the royal kitchens and ignominiously executed.
Gathering what was left of her family, Madam Mouserinks left the scene of her cruel loss. Her heart was filled with rage, despair, and thirst for vengeance.
The court rejoiced, but the queen lived in fear, for she knew Madam Mouserinks like a book and felt sure she wouldn't take the death of her sons and relations lying down. True enough, Madam Mouserinks appeared in the kitchen just as the queen was cooking kidney stew for her husband, who was especially fond of that dish, and said, "My sons, aunts, and uncles have been slain. Take care, Your Highness, that the queen of the mice doesn't bite your little princess in two. Take care!"
With that she vanished and was seen no more, but the queen was so frightened that she dropped the kidney stew in the fire. That was the second time Madam Mouserinks had ruined one of the king's favorite dishes, and it made him very angry.
"WELL, THAT'S ENOUGH for tonight. I'll tell you the rest another time."
Much as Marie, who had ideas of her own about this story, begged Godfather Drosselmeier to go on, he sprang to his feet, saying, "Too much at a time wouldn't be good for you. I'll tell you the rest tomorrow."
As the judge was leaving the room, Fritz asked him, "Tell me, Godfather Drosselmeier, is it really true that you invented mousetraps?"
"How can you ask such a silly question?" said Mrs. Stahlbaum. But the judge smiled strangely and said, "Do you think an ingenious clockmaker like me would be incapable of inventing a mere mousetrap?"
The Story of the Hard Nut, Part One
The Story of the Hard Nut, Part Two
The Story of the Hard Nut, Part Three
The Story of the Hard Nut, Part Four
E.T.A. Hoffmann's Nutcracker at our house
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This is but one of the many Nutcracker CDs available; others are priced at a steal!
The sets and costumes are Sendak's; the company, the Pacific Northwest Ballet; the plot, once again, a hack and slash of Hoffmann's treasure. This particular production toys with the sexual awakening of 13-year-old Clara and paints Drosselmeier as being infatuated with her, but not in a way obvious to children. It must be said, this production does away with the tired Land of Sweets -- huzzah; and the music is still Tchaikovsky's.
Ernst Theodor Amadeus Hoffmann, original name Ernst Theodor Wilhelm Hoffmann (1776-1822)
Russian Dance - Trepak
Miniature Overture
March
Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy
Russian Dance - Trepak
Waltz of the Flowers
You are cordially invited to send a free Nutcracker postcard. Worth every penny.