Baba Yaga

Hi there, and welcome to Fab Figmentals! 

I’m Lindsey Morse, your guide through the realm of curious creatures, magical monsters, and beautiful beasts. Each week on this podcast, we explore a different legendary creature by looking at its history and folklore. Episodes begin with a story, and then we go on to take a look at the creature’s origins and how it’s been portrayed throughout the ages.

Today, we’re going to be talking about one of the most memorable and distinctive figures from Eastern European folklore, Baba Yaga. 

Baba Yaga is a supernatural, wicked witch-type character who is most often depicted as a deformed old hag. She lives deep in the forest in a hut that stands on chicken legs, and she can fly around using a broom or a mortar and pestle. For those wondering how one might fly around using a mortar and pestle, well, it’s said Baba Yaga will hop in the mortar bowl and grip the pestle to use as a kind of air paddle. 

Anyway, her motivations are ambiguous, which makes her incredibly unpredictable. In some stories, she is an evil witch hell-bent on eating small children, but in others she plays a more maternal role, and might help those who come across her peculiar hut in the woods. 

Before we get kick off the show, I want to point out that the stories we share are often more Brothers Grimm than Mother Goose, so please be advised that they may not be appropriate for little ears. 

This week’s story is by Verra Xenophontovna Kalamatiano de Blumenthal, a collector of fairy tales from Sevastopol, Russia. This story is called “Baba Yaga” and was published in her 1903 collection of stories entitled Folk Tales from the Russian. I’ve made a few small edits for length and clarity, but the story is largely unchanged. 

Now, without further ado, let’s meet Baba Yaga:

———music starts———

Once upon a time in vast Russia, a peasant lived with his wife and twins — a son and daughter. One day, his wife died, and the husband mourned for a long time. One year passed, then two years, and longer. But a day came when the man thought, “perhaps it is time for me to marry again." And so he did, and his second wife bore him more children.

The twins’ stepmother was envious of her stepchildren, and she began to treat them poorly. She scolded them for no reason, sent them away from home as often as she wished, and gave them scarcely enough to eat. Eventually, she wanted to get rid of them altogether. 

So, she decided to send the children to a witch… thinking they would never return. 

"Dear children," she said to the twins, "go to my grandmother who lives in the forest in a hut on hen's feet. You will do everything she asks, and in return she will give you sweet things to eat and you will be happy.”

The twins started out. But instead of going to the witch, the sister, a bright little girl, took her brother by the hand and ran to their own old, old grandmother and told her where they had been instructed to go.

"Oh, my poor darlings!" said the good old grandmother, pitying the children, "my heart aches for you, but it is not in my power to help you. You must go see the wicked witch. But listen closely, my darlings," she continued; "I will give you a hint: Be kind and good to every one; do not speak ill words to others; help those who are weaker than you, and always hope that someone will be there to help you when you need it.”

The good old grandmother gave the children some delicious fresh milk to drink and each child a big slice of ham. She also gave them some cookies, and when the children departed she stood looking after them a long, long time.

Before long, the children arrived at the forest and, oh, wonder! there stood a hut, and what a curious one! It stood on tiny hen's feet, and at the top was a rooster's head. 

With their youthful voices they called out to the hut:

“Hut! Hut! Turn to face us!”

The hut did as they commanded. The two orphans looked inside and saw the witch resting there. 

"Fou, Fou, Fou!" exclaimed the witch; "I feel the Russian spirit."

The children were afraid, and stood close, very close together, but in spite of their fear they said very politely: 

"Ho, grandmother, our stepmother sent us to serve thee.”

"All right; I am not opposed to keeping you, children. If you satisfy all my wishes I shall reward you; if not, I shall eat you up.”

Without any delay, the witch ordered the girl to spin thread, and the boy, her brother, to carry water in a sieve to fill a big tub. The poor girl wept at her spinning-wheel and wiped away her bitter tears. At once all around her appeared small mice squeaking and saying: 

"Sweet girl, do not cry. Give us cookies and we will help thee.”

The little girl willingly did so.

“Now," gratefully squeaked the mice, "go and find the black cat. He is very hungry; give him a slice of ham and he will help thee."

The girl speedily went in search of the cat and saw her brother in great distress about the tub, so many times he had filled the sieve, yet the tub was still dry. 

The little birds passed, flying nearby, and chirped to the children:

"Kind-hearted little children, give us some crumbs and we will advise you.”

The orphans gave the birds some crumbs and the grateful birds chirped again:

"Some clay and water, children dear!”

Then away they flew through the air.

The children understood the hint, spat in the sieve, plastered it up with clay, and filled the tub in a very short time. Then they both returned to the hut and on the threshold met the black cat. They generously gave him some of the ham which their good grandmother had given them, petted him and asked:

"Dear Kitty-cat, black and pretty, tell us what to do in order to get away from thy mistress, the witch?”

"Well," very seriously answered the cat, "I will give you a towel and a comb and then you must run away. When you hear the witch running after you, drop the towel behind your back and a large river will appear in place of the towel.

If you hear her once more, throw down the comb and in place of the comb there will appear a dark wood. This wood will protect you from the wicked witch, my mistress.”

Baba Yaga came home just then.

"Is it not wonderful?" she thought; "everything is exactly right.”

"Well," she said to the children, "today you were brave and smart; let us see to-morrow. Your work will be more difficult and I hope you will fail so I can eat you up.”

The poor children went to bed, not to a warm bed prepared by loving hands, but on the straw in a cold corner. Nearly scared to death from fear, they lay there, afraid to talk, afraid even to breathe. The next morning the witch ordered all the linen to be woven and a large supply of firewood to be brought from the forest.

The children took the towel and comb and ran away as fast as their feet could possibly carry them. The dogs were after them, but they threw them the cookies that were left, and they stopped to eat them; the gates did not open themselves, but the children smoothed them with oil until they released; the birch tree near the path almost scratched their eyes out, but the gentle girl fastened a pretty ribbon to it, and the branches receded. 

So they ran farther and farther until they were out of the dark forest and upon a wide, sunny field.

The cat sat down by the loom and tore the thread to pieces, doing it with delight. Baba Yaga returned.

"Where are the children?" she shouted, and began to beat the cat. "Why hast thou let them go, thou treacherous cat? Why hast thou not scratched their faces?”

The cat answered: "Well, it was because I have served thee so many years and thou hast never given me a treat, while the dear children gave me some very good ham.”

The witch scolded the dogs, the gates, and the birch tree near the path.

"Well," barked the dogs, "thou certainly art our mistress, but thou hast never done us a favor, and the twins were kind to us.”

The gates replied:

"We were always ready to obey thee, but thou didst neglect us, and the dear children smoothed us with oil."

The birch tree lisped with its leaves, "Thou hast never put a simple thread over my branches and the little darlings adorned them with a pretty ribbon.”

Baba Yaga understood that none of them would be of any help and started to follow the children herself. In her great hurry she forgot to look for the towel and the comb, but jumped astride a broom and was off. The children heard her coming and threw the towel behind them. At once a river, wide and blue, appeared and watered the field. Baba Yaga hopped along the shore until she finally found a shallow place and crossed it.

Again the children heard her hurry after them and so they threw down the comb. This time a forest appeared, a dark and dusky forest in which the roots were interwoven, the branches matted together, and the tree-tops touching each other. The witch tried very hard to pass through, but she could not, and so, very, very angry, she returned home.

The twins rushed to their father, told him all about their great distress, and thus concluded their pitiful story:

"Ah, father dear, why dost thou love us less than our step-brothers and sisters?”

The father was touched and became angry. He sent the wicked stepmother away and lived a new life with his good children. From that time he watched over their happiness and never neglected them again.

———story ends———

Before we dive into the origins of Baba Yaga, I’d like to talk a little bit more about what she looks like. 

As I mentioned at the top of the show, she’s most often depicted as an old hag or a deformed grandmother. She has a hooked nose and bulging eyes, and her visage is often described as grotesque, hideous, and terrifying. She often goes by the nickname “bony leg,” and in some appearances, she is actually a trio of sisters, who are all named Baba Yaga.  

My favorite part of the Baba Yaga legend has to be her hut. I just love the image of an old wooden hut that’s able to walk around on chicken feet. Her hut has other zoomorphic attributes, too. It’s said to have windows that can blink like eyes, and the keyhole has sharp teeth, presumably to prevent entry or exit to those the old witch would like to keep in our out. The hut is surrounded by a fence made from human skulls and bones— how delightfully macabre.

But Baba Yaga perhaps wasn’t always seen as an old witch. Scholars believe that today’s Baba Yaga was once perceived quite differently: Not as an old witch but as a a nature spirit. Which does explain her close ties to nature and her ability to control forest flora and fauna. 

The first mention of Baba Yaga is found in 1755, but the legend is certain to have been around for much longer than that. Stories of Baba Yaga are widespread, and it’s possible her reputation might have traveled beyond Eastern Europe. Just look at the similarities between today’s Baba Yaga story and the classic Grimm fairy tale, Hansel & Gretel, which both involve children, a forest, and a cannibalistic witch. 

Baba Yaga has been famous in Eastern Europe for centuries, and in recent years her legend has continued to creep more and more into Western Europe and beyond. Some recent examples include the Hellboy comic series, in which Baba Yaga pops up as a primary antagonist. The titular castle in the 2004 film Howl’s Moving Castle walks around on chicken feet, clearly a nod to her hut, and Baba Yaga even gets a couple of brief shout outs in Marvel’s 2018 Ant-Man and the Wasp. 

Back home, though, she has always had a prominent influence on artists, writers, and composers.

In 1874, Russian composer Modest Mussorgsky released a suite of ten pieces called Pictures at an Exhibition. The works are written for piano, and are inspired by a walk through an art show that was curated to honor the life and showcase the works of artist, architect, and designer Viktor Hartmann, a close friend of the composer who passed away unexpectedly in 1873 from an aneurysm. 

Mussorgsky was devastated to lose his friend, and after attending the show he single-mindedly devoted himself to the suite, completing it in only 3 weeks. Pictures at an Exhibition went on to become the artist’s most famous composition. Each of the 10 numbers acts as a musical illustration of a piece of Hartmann’s art that was featured in the show, and #9 is inspired by a design study for a clock in the shape of Baba Yaga’s hut. I’ve posted a picture of the image on Twitter; check it out @figmentals. The ornate clock design has stylized chicken heads that sit atop the roof ridge, and it stands on twisted-looking chicken feet.

But Mussorgsky’s musical take on the clock is much more than just a literal representation of Baba Yaga’s hut. The composition jumps and swoops and seethes with fury. For me, the music conjures imagines of the witch angrily chasing after children, the tolling of a clock, and the furious stamping of chicken feet. 

Instead of our usual closing music, I think we should let Modest Mussorgsky play us out. So here’s “The Hut on Hen’s Legs” from Modest Mussorgsky’s 1874 Pictures at an Exhibition:

[“The Hut on Hen’s Legs” begins]

Thank you so much for tuning in to this episode of Fab Figmentals!

If you’re excited to discover more figmentals, we drop a new episode every Wednesday. You’ll find us on iTunes, Stitcher, Spotify, and pretty much any other podcast aggregator. You’ll also find the show on our website, fabfigmentals.com. Make sure to subscribe on your podcatcher of choice to get new episodes as soon as they’re available.

Research, writing, and sound editing was done by me, Lindsey Morse. Niall Cooper helps me behind the scenes and assists with writing and editing. Our theme music was created by the incredible Graeme Ronald. 

Do you have an original story about a figmental you’d like to see on the show? Please send it my way! You’ll find guidelines on how to submit your original work on our website fabfigmentals.com. Just click the link at the top of the page that says “submissions.” 

If you’re interested in seeing how artists have portrayed Baba Yaga throughout history, follow me on twitter or instagram. I’ve been posting different artistic representations all week.

If you like learning about creatures that lurk in the shadows, perhaps you’d be interested in learning more about humanity’s darker side. If so, please also check out our sister show, Assassinations Podcast. You’ll find a link in the show notes.

Thanks again for listening, and I hope you’ll join me next week, when I explore the mythology and lore surrounding baku, a dream-eating chimera from Japan.