The Wolf and the Crane
Annelie van Steenbergen, text and illustrations
In most fairy tales, fables and folk tales in Western culture, the wolf is the bad guy. Nothing is more satisfying than blaming this creature for your own misdeeds or stupidity. Think of the naive Little Red Riding Hood who ignores her mother’s advice and thus falls victim to this meanie. Or the lazy piglet who builds his house out of straw or wood. The wise piglet who protects himself and builds his house of stone does not have much to fear from this hungry animal. Because we forget his loyalty and solidarity, we confuse his courage and leadership with aggressiveness. His independence and drive for freedom are scaring us; his flexibility and adaptability push us to cling to familiar things and circumstances. Thus, we expect a priori that in a conflict between a wolf and a crane, the bird will be right. After all, cranes are not just any birds. They are beautiful and impressive. The largest ones can reach 1.5 meters in length and their wings have a wingspan of sometimes 2.5 meters. They have a long neck and a 1.5-meter windpipe that lies half-coiled in their sternum. As a result, they produce an eerie sound reminiscent of a kind of raucous trumpet call. Not for nothing does Homer mention them in the Iliad when he describes the compares screams of the Trojans’ attacking army to the screams of the cranes.[1]
In most cultures, they are strongly associated with qualities such as luck, love, strength, spiritual wisdom and vigilance. In Chinese legends, it is even a sacred animal, allowed to be kept only by the emperor. This also makes it a symbol of nobility, honor and dignity.
Nowadays, cranes are quite rare in our regions, but in classical antiquity, the time when Aesopus (ca. 620 B.C.E. – 500 B.C.E.) told his famous fables, they were regularly seen flying over with loud squawking by the hundreds. It is possible that more than once Aesopus witnessed the impressive crane dance, which the birds perform while jumping high. In any case, it is certain that he considered the crane higher than the wolf, as evidenced by his fable about The Wolf and the Crane.[2]In this fable, the wolf is the ultimate example of evil and stupid man.
What exactly is The Wolf and the Crane about? Aesopus tells that a wolf had bitten and devoured a sheep to death. In the process, a bone was stuck in his throat, causing him terrible pain.
Feeling this, the wolf begged the crane to pull the bone out of his throat. The crane stuck her neck into his throat and pulled the bone out. The wolf was instantly healed. – according to Aesopus.
Three guesses as to who is to blame.
Everyone happy, you would think. The wolf got rid of the bone and the crane did his good deed for the day. But no. One good turn deserves another, the crane thinks, because then he demands his wages from the wolf.
Nowhere in this fable it does say that a fee was agreed upon beforehand, neither a return service. So the wolf replies to his rescuer:
You are very ungrateful, and you have no sense of the harm I could do to you. For when you stuck your neck down my throat, if I wanted to, I could have bitten you to death.
Nonsense, of course, because if he had indeed bitten through while the neck was still in his mouth, the bone would not have been removed. Then he would have died anyway. It was Bluffing Speech. Moreover, it was a lack of gratitude to his rescuer, without whom he would not have survived the adventure. On the other hand, the crane could have simply rejoined his peers, satisfied that he had helped someone out of need. Aesopus didn’t want it that way. Indeed, the closing moral is:
From this fable, then, it is clear that it is not useful to do anything good for bad and ungrateful people. It is futile effort.
In the seventeenth century, Jean De La Fontaine (1621-1695) did not handle it very differently in his rhymed adaptation. Except that in his version the crane is replaced by a less exotic bird. With De La Fontaine, the title is The Wolf and the Stork. For ease of rhyme, the translator even turned it into a spoonbill later in the poem [3].
Crane, stork, spoonbill or strange bird, what does it matter as long as the bird has a long beak and is able and willing to help the wolf out of trouble. That’s what the fable writer was all about.
In reality, there are indeed differences between these three great waders. Just as much as there are differences in meaning when interpreting these stories of selfless assistance. For De La Fontaine, for example, it is self-evident that the wolf is a wolverine. It is nature and not its a priori evil nature:
Wolves! oh, who can describe
How they gulp? ‘Tis their breed.
When the gluttonous wolf chokes on the bone that sticks in his throat and he is afraid of choking, help is at hand.
Luckily, there just came
stroding Mr. Spoonbill:
seeing the sufferer beckoning,
he rushed over, and deeply concerned
began the operation.
The issue in De La Fontaine version is not whether the rescuer in distress is a sacred bird pitted against the demon wolf. It is about the instruments, the handy beak that can be deployed like giant tweezers to save a life. The spoonbill has pity, he is “deeply concerned” and wants to free the wolf from his miserable position. The result, however, is the same as with Aesopus, for as soon as the danger has passed the surgeon expects payment:
With his beak, just wait,
the little bone was taken out.
“Good efforts he had given himself”
“Good salary had to be paid!”
Again, the wolf disagrees. He puts up a shout and scolds the rescuer for “conceited fool. The bird must be happy that he was allowed to venture into his maw with impunity.” A typical case of projection. He turns things around by accusing the rescuer of what he himself suffers from: ingratitude.
Go, ungrateful creature, go!
Never come near my claws!
Unlike Aesopus, Jean De La Fontaine leaves the conclusion, the moral, to us. He gives no opinion himself, the lesson we can draw for ourselves, according to our view of the story.
First of all, we notice the reaction with which the strong wolf tries to push away his uneasy feelings of dependence by choosing that attack is the best defense. It is not he who is the ungrateful one, on the contrary. The one who made him aware of his vulnerability does not know his place! He may think for a moment that he has put the relationship in the right perspective, that is, in his own favour.
Next, turning our attention to the crane, who shows off particularly well in Aesopus’ fable. He immediately intervened in a life-threatening situation. Because of his stature and his beak and long neck, as it were, he had the right first aid certificate for this situation. Needless to say, he took action and provided first aid. Since human characteristics are depicted in fables in which animals play the leading role, we could check an exeample in, say, a restaurant while we are eating. One of the guests chokes on a chicken bone and turns red. Coincidentally, we just took a CPR course, so we rush over, give five back strokes between the shoulder blades, and if that doesn’t help, we apply the Heimlich maneuver. And yes, the bone shoots loose and the guest comes back to life. What a relief. We stay at the table of the unfortunate one and ask for payment for our efforts and for the fact that we were knowledgeable, thanks to a course that also cost something. Naturally, all the other guests tap their foreheads, “Are you all crazy?” Among them a lawyer. He stands up:
This kind of help falls under the moral obligation to help in emergencies. In law, this is called ‘good helper’. In our country, you cannot legally demand a reward for providing first aid, even if you saved someone’s life. You may even be punished if you fail to render aid when someone is in mortal danger. Get out of here!
Although you cannot transfer these circumstances one-to-one to an animal fable from the time of Aesopus, it does shed a different light on the meaning of the moral of the little story. In our time, offering help to someone in need should be a reflex, without expectations, even if you would not want the victim to be one of your friends. Something we care about, in other words what or who elicits our pity, we try as much as possible to free it from its miserable position.”[4]
In the case of the wolf and the crane, the crane affirms his own strength and excellence by helping the dependent wolf out of distress. He puts himself on a higher level. In any case, it does not stem from his desire to selflessly help the other. He could also have acted because of the satisfaction it will give, and thus expanding his own well-being. Imagine if he had helped the wolf to experience that pleasant and satisfying feeling. Would that have made his act more “humane-minded” or morally “better”?
This fable, like many others, gives us an opportunity to muse on moral dilemmas. In this case about helpfulness versus gratitude, about helpfulness as a moral duty, or even as a moral burden, about the social expectation of reciprocity….
The question is whether helpfulness without (unconscious) selfish motives is at all possible. But this need not lead us to conclude that we should not come to the rescue when asked, regardless of motives. It is never futile effort, even when doing something good for bad and stupid people, as Aesopus claims. However, it is still nice if the help is appreciated, that;s for sure.
Noten
[1] De Ilias van Homeros. Vertaald door Mr. C. Vosmaer. Zevende druk. Leiden: A.W. Sijthoff’s Uitg.-Mij. Derde Zang, r. 1-7.
[2] Het leven en de fabels van Esopus. Teksteditie met inleiding, hertaling en commentaar door Hans Rijns en Willem van Bentum. Hilversum: Verloren, 2016, p. 171.
[3] Jean de La Fontaine (nagevolgd door J.J.L. ten Kate) (1875, ?, 1e druk)- De fabelen van La Fontaine. Geïllustreerd met platen en vignetten door Gustave Doré. Fabel IX, Derde boek. Amsterdam: Gebroeders Binger, pp. 156-157.
[4] Spinoza, Ethica III, st. 27, toegift 3p.
