Sugar Plum Fairy

This is Fab Figmentals, the podcast that explores the realm of curious creatures, magical monsters, and beautiful beasts. I’m your host, Lindsey Morse. 

On each episode of Fab Figmentals, we dive into the folklore and history of a different legendary creature and share a story about it. 

For today’s episode, I wanted to something lighthearted and fun in honor of the holiday season. If you listen to the show regularly, you know my natural inclination is to go dark when it comes to holiday episodes, but this one is going to be a bit lighter. If you’re in the mood for something more macabre, you can check out last year’s episodes about Krampus and Grylla & the Yule Lads. 

This year, I’m taking inspiration from The Nutcracker, that ubiquitous holiday ballet that’s everywhere this time of year. If you haven’t seen it, I’ll give you a quick walk-through. 

The libretto for the ballet is adapted from a story by E. T. A. Hoffmann called "The Nutcracker and the Mouse King.” Not all stage interpretations follow the narrative exactly, but they usually go a little something like this:

The story begins in 19th century Nuremberg, Germany. A small girl receives a toy nutcracker that she loves dearly, but her brother breaks it. Late at night, she sneaks out of her bedroom to check on her new favorite toy, and magical things start to happen. Her Christmas tree grows tall as can be, toy soldiers come to life, and the little girl finds herself under attack from an army of mice and their rodent king. Her nutcracker, also now real as can be, defends her, leading the toy soldiers into battle, and when calm is finally restored, the nutcracker turns into a prince, and he and the girl dance and dance.  While the first act has a pretty clear narrative— albeit a weird one— nothing much happens in the second. The girl and the prince are transported to the land of sweets, where the Sugar Plum Fairy rules over the land. The price explains how the girl has helped him return to his true form and find his way home, and a celebration ensues. After some time in this magical candy land, the children prepare to leave, and the Sugar Plum Fairy delivers an assortment of dances— the climax of the story, really— along with a beautiful duet with the prince. 

The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy is one of the most famous in all of ballet, and her pas de deux with the prince is legendary. 

But The Sugar Plum Fairy is a funny character. Despite being one of the primary figures in the ballet, we don’t get to know much about her. What’s her deal? What’s her connection to sugar plums? What does she want? None of these questions are answered, really. So, for this episode, I’m going to give our favorite Christmas candy queen the spotlight and do a little thought experiment slash investigation into her backstory. This week’s tale is by our very own Niall Cooper. He’s taken the time to really imagine the missing parts of her story. So, just for fun, let’s read between the lines of The Nutcracker Suite and delve further into the life of The Sugar Plum Fairy. What in the world was she up to while her nutcracker prince was away? 

Here’s “The Land of Sweets.”

*****

The Sugar Plum Fairy waved as her prince and his army of chocolate soldiers went off to war against his arch enemy: the seven-headed Mouse King. 

The Prince left on Midwinter’s Day, as powdered sugar snow fell across the land, and he promised to be home by New Year’s Day.

Christmas was a lonely time without him. The Sugar Plum Fairy forbade her servants to decorate the palace, and banned her subjects from celebrating until the army had returned victorious.

All alone, she felt very small within the endless, vaulted chambers of the palace. Servants scurried by, their little feet pitter-pattering as they attended to their chores. There was a whole regiment of them: gingerbread footmen in licorice livery, marshmallow maids, and peppermint patty pageboys.

They would fetch anything she wishes, any time she might desire it. But there is only really one thing that she wants—to see her prince again.

By the end of the year, with no word from the front, she grew deeply worried.

A month after his departure, a herald reported that the army had returned. She sprinted from the palace, down the long avenue lined with candy canes, through the cobbled streets, and waited in anticipation at the city gate. But when the army approached, the Prince was not at its head. The chocolate soldiers filed by, their tinfoil uniforms tattered and torn, their eyes cast down.

A general gave her the bad news: the prince had disappeared during the siege of the Mouse King’s castle. 

His troops had searched high and low for weeks, to no avail. They feared that he had been captured by the dreaded Mouse King. But there was not a word of his whereabouts - he had, quite simply, vanished.

The siege over and their spirits broken, the army had no choice but to return home.

Distraught, the Sugar Plum Fairy ran all the way back to the palace, up the grand marzipan staircase to her bedroom. And there she remained.

Her one solace was to dance. In the grand ballroom she whirled and skirled across the fondant floor. By day, she danced in the bright light that splashed in in through the tall stained glass windows. And by night, she danced by the light of countless flickering candles that reflected off the mirrored walls. 

Secretaries of the Cabinet would come by with reports of the business of the Land of Sweets. They’d request that she - as regent - sign bills in to law. The Sugar Plum Fairy never ceased to dance, though, not for a moment. She’d just whisk a pen from the outstretched hand of an official, and sign her monogram on the official parchments while gliding by.

The days grew short. Weak, grey, wintry light made the ballroom gloomy. The nights were long and cold. Soon, she could scarcely rouse herself from bed.

Her ladies maid scurried in one morning to fetch the breakfast tray, only to find her mistress still under the covers and her coffee cremes untouched.

“What ails my lady?”

“Life has grown to dark, so dull.” The Sugar Plum Fairy sighed. “I cannot bare to get up and dance. My prince is still missing, and now I fear that all hope is lost.”

The little maid frowned. “My lady, no! He will surely return soon, I just know it.”

“He has been gone nigh on a year. Midwinter will be the anniversary of his departure to the wars. I have not had a letter from him, nor word from a herald in all this time. Perhaps he is dead.”

“Oh, no,” the maid squeaked. “Do not say such things. Our master will return - and soon, I am sure. At this time of year, he would want to see his palace full of life, and joy, and feasting - and dancing! We’ll decorate the halls with evergreen wreaths, silk ribbons, silvers bells. And we will host a grand winter ball, where you, my lady, will dance and bring joy to all the people.”

“I would bring them joy, you think?”

“Of course! You are the most beautiful dancer - your subjects will be delighted.”

And so the household set to work, until the palace was a riot of lights and color and seasonal cheer. Invitations were sent around the kingdom - Your Attendance is Requested at the Grand Midwinter Ball.

On that night they came, hundreds of carriages wending up the avenue to the palace, disgorging ladies and gentlemen in their finest attire.

Sipping sarsaparillas and nibbling on marrons glacé, the guests threw themselves into the evening’s revelry. To entertain her people, the Sugar Plum Fairy had gathered the finest artistes in the land: Danish shepherdesses to perform on their flutes; a dozen gingerbread children who burst from under the hooped skirt of their mother, to perform a jig; and spun sugar flowers that waltzed amongst the crowd.

The ball was wonderful and all the guests were in the highest spirits. Everyone bowed to their host and praised her exquisite taste. But then they whispered to each other: “Why doesn’t she dance?”

The Sugar Plum Fairy heard their gossip and ordered the orchestra to strike up a Spanish bolero.

She took the center of the floor. Everyone else suddenly went very quiet and moved to the edges of the room. She began her dance slowly, moving with long, stately strides. As the tempo picked up, she leapt and twisted in mid-air. When the music rose to a frenzied pace, she circled round and round in a blur.

And when she finally came to a stop and the last notes of the band echoed though the palace, she finally opened her eyes.

Instead of the wild applause that she expected, there was total silence. Standing in the doorway in front of her was the Prince.

The Sugar Plum Fairy could not believe her eyes. He opened his arms wide and she ran to him. They embraced and the assembled subjects erupted in a cheer so loud that it shook the walls of the palace.

“May darling, my darling! You have returned!”

“My love,” he laughed, “while I am am very glad to hear of it, I must confess that I am surprised!”

Shocked and hurt, she pushed him away. “Surprise? How could you be surprised? You have been gone a year!”

“A year?!” he replied in astonishment. “But …” he looked around the ballroom at all the guests, staring at him agape. “I … I … I have only been gone two weeks. We were besieging the castle of the Seven-headed Mouse King, and I was captured. A most strange and incredible series of events occurred. 

“I was captured from my tent in the wee small hours of New Year’s Day, and the enemy soldiers took me through a secret passageway into the castle. There I expected to be put to death. But instead I was taken to a wizard, an old grizzled man in the employ of the Mouse King. He performed his dark arts upon me and - I know this sounds impossible - but he turned me into a Nutcracker!”

At this, the audience burst out laughing.

“No, no, it is true!” the prince protested. “As a simple toy, I was rudely manhandled. Despite this, I was still able to fight. Though only a nutcracker, I made allies of other poor souls trapped inside the castle, and we did battle against the Mouse King. I would surely have died, but I was saved by this sweet natured child.”

The Sugar Plum Fairy had not until this moment noticed the little girl standing beside the prince, who curtseyed politely.

“I must return,” said the prince “For the kingdom of the mice is without its ruler, and is ripe for the taking. I will regroup my gingerbread army, overrun the castle, and I shall prevail.”

At this, the Sugar Plum Fairy burst into tears.“For twelve long months I waited for you. And I would have waited forever more. But now I that have you back, I cannot let you go again!”

At this, the Prince was touched, and he was ashamed to have put his lust for battle ahead of the love he shared with his wife. “I suppose that I already have a land to rule right here,” he said. “And, after all, I did slay the mighty Seven-headed Mouse King, which was a glorious victory. Perhaps that is enough.”

“It is, my darling. It is. Now …”

“Now, what, dear?”

“Now dance with me!”

And they danced, with all their subjects watching. They glided and darted across the room, they turned and jumped together, rising onto their tiptoes and stretching their clasped hands to the gilded ceiling. He dipped her down until her long, golden hair swept the floor. Then she rose, and spun out of his arms and pirouetted faster and faster, round and around … the prince in awe, as she danced.

*******

That was fun, wasn’t it? Thanks to Niall Cooper for that fun little story. I dare say I now have some newfound sympathy for the Sugar Plum Fairy!

Of course, The Nutcracker Suite isn’t really about the plot of the story. Or the Sugar Plum Fairy, for that matter. The hero of the ballet is the music, and I’d like to end this episode with Tchaikovsky’s The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy. I’m fairly certain we’ve all heard it once or twice before, but it really is lovely. This version comes to us courtesy of Kevin MacLeod. 

[music]

Before I sign off, I want to take a minute to say thank you. This year has been a doozy, but taking a few minutes every couple of weeks to escape to the world of figmentals has been wonderful for me. I hope you’ve enjoyed it, too. So whatever your holiday plans this year: whether you’re trimming the Christmas tree, lighting the menorah, battling your loved ones in the Festivus feats of strength, or drinking alone in your underwear and grumbling about how the holidays are the opiate of the masses… I want to say thank you for tuning in. For that, you’re all good in my book. If I happen to see Krampus lurking around, I’ll tell him to keep you off the naughty list. 

*****

Thank you so much for listening to this episode of Fab Figmentals.

Research, writing, and sound editing are done by me, Lindsey Morse. Our theme music was created by Graeme Ronald. Thanks to Niall Cooper for penning our story this week. If you’d like to hear The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy again, or more of Kevin MacLeod’s work, check the show notes for a link. 

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Do you have a suggestion for a future episode? Or maybe just want to reach out and say hi? You can get in touch with me via our website, FabFigmentals.com, or on Twitter @figmentals. I’d love to hear from you.

In two weeks, we’ll be back with another episode. We’re going to be looking at Huli Jing, Chinese nine tailed foxes that can shape shift.

We’ll see you next time.