Pursuing natural health & thinking beyond the superficial. Deconstructing Culture.

Recently I read a book that I knew was a metaphor for something else that goes on in the dregs of society (irrespective of class) and I was interested to see if there were any salient points in it, disguised as a young readers book and the main theme/vehicle of which I didn’t realize until I read it – a theme which would have put me off had I known… It’s not a genre I’ve read nor wanted to for a long time. Anyway the protagonist comes across a card game where the only two cards left are the Lady and the Tiger and something about it strikes a chord in her, as if she’s about to find out which she is, which she wants and which she needs to be. It hit a note with me too because I hadn’t come across that symbolism before other than being called TigerLily more than once by people ‘who know better’, sometimes surprisingly/severely so.

In the end the character she becomes friends with, and what a character he is, calls her “My Lady, the Tiger”. I hadn’t really thought about it like that before, I’ve found it difficult to figure out what Tiger Lily means despite research, on the one hand this ferocious predator animal and the other the sign of purity and even knowledge/sacred geometry/The Goddess when in its lotus form.

Yesterday I happened upon this story:

The Lady, or the Tiger?
Frank R. Stockton (1882)

The Lady or The Tiger

The 1884 anthology version.

In the very olden time there lived a semi-barbaric king, whose ideas, though somewhat polished and sharpened by the progressiveness of distant Latin neighbors, were still large, florid, and untrammeled, as became the half of him which was barbaric. He was a man of exuberant fancy, and, withal, of an authority so irresistible that, at his will, he turned his varied fancies into facts. He was greatly given to self-communing, and, when he and himself agreed upon anything, the thing was done. When every member of his domestic and political systems moved smoothly in its appointed course, his nature was bland and genial; but, whenever there was a little hitch, and some of his orbs got out of their orbits, he was blander and more genial still, for nothing pleased him so much as to make the crooked straight and crush down uneven places.

Among the borrowed notions by which his barbarism had become semified was that of the public arena, in which, by exhibitions of manly and beastly valor, the minds of his subjects were refined and cultured.

But even here the exuberant and barbaric fancy asserted itself The arena of the king was built, not to give the people an opportunity of hearing the rhapsodies of dying gladiators, nor to enable them to view the inevitable conclusion of a conflict between religious opinions and hungry jaws, but for purposes far better adapted to widen and develop the mental energies of the people. This vast amphitheater, with its encircling galleries, its mysterious vaults, and its unseen passages, was an agent of poetic justice, in which crime was punished, or virtue rewarded, by the decrees of an impartial and incorruptible chance.

When a subject was accused of a crime of sufficient importance to interest the king, public notice was given that on an appointed day the fate of the accused person would be decided in the king’s arena, a structure which well deserved its name, for, although its form and plan were borrowed from afar, its purpose emanated solely from the brain of this man, who, every barleycorn a king, knew no tradition to which he owed more allegiance than pleased his fancy, and who ingrafted on every adopted form of human thought and action the rich growth of his barbaric idealism.

When all the people had assembled in the galleries, and the king, surrounded by his court, sat high up on his throne of royal state on one side of the arena, he gave a signal, a door beneath him opened, and the accused subject stepped out into the amphitheater. Directly opposite him, on the other side of the inclosed space, were two doors, exactly alike and side by side. It was the duty and the privilege of the person on trial to walk directly to these doors and open one of them. He could open either door he pleased; he was subject to no guidance or influence but that of the aforementioned impartial and incorruptible chance. If he opened the one, there came out of it a hungry tiger, the fiercest and most cruel that could be procured, which immediately sprang upon him and tore him to pieces as a punishment for his guilt. The moment that the case of the criminal was thus decided, doleful iron bells were clanged, great wails went up from the hired mourners posted on the outer rim of *the arena, and the vast audience, with bowed heads and downcast hearts, wended slowly their homeward way, mourning greatly that one so young and fair, or so old and respected, should have merited so dire a fate.

But, if the accused person opened the other door, there came forth from it a lady, the most suitable to his years and station that his majesty could select among his fair subjects, and to this lady he was immediately married, as a reward of his innocence. It mattered not that he might already possess a wife and family, or that his affections might be engaged upon an object of his own selection; the king allowed no such subordinate arrangements to interfere with his great scheme of retribution and reward. The exercises, as in the other instance, took place immediately, and in the arena. Another door opened beneath the king, and a priest, followed by a band of choristers, and dancing maidens blowing joyous airs on golden horns and treading an epithalamic measure, advanced to where the pair stood, side by side, and the wedding was promptly and cheerily solemnized. Then the gay brass bells rang forth their merry peals, the people shouted glad hurrahs, and the innocent man, preceded by children strewing flowers on his path, led his bride to his home.

This was the king’s semi-barbaric method of administering justice. Its perfect fairness is obvious. The criminal could not know out of which door would come the lady; he opened either he pleased, without having the slightest idea whether, in the next instant, he was to be devoured or married. On some occasions the tiger came out of one door, and on some out of the other. The decisions of this tribunal were not only fair, they were positively determinate: the accused person was instantly punished if he found himself guilty, and, if innocent, he was rewarded on the spot, whether he liked it or not. There was no escape from the judgments of the king’s arena.

The institution was a very popular one. When the people gathered together on one of the great trial days, they never knew whether they were to witness a bloody slaughter or a hilarious wedding. This element of uncertainty lent an interest to the occasion which it could not otherwise have attained. Thus, the masses were entertained and pleased, and the thinking part of the community could bring no charge of unfairness against this plan, for did not the accused person have the whole matter in his own hands?

This semi-barbaric king had a daughter as blooming as his most florid fancies, and with a soul as fervent and imperious as his own. As is usual in such cases, she was the apple of his eye, and was loved by him above all humanity. Among his courtiers was a young man of that fineness of blood and lowness of station common to the conventional heroes of romance who love royal maidens. This royal maiden was well satisfied with her lover, for he was handsome and brave to a degree unsurpassed in all this kingdom, and she loved him with an ardor that had enough of barbarism in it to make it exceedingly warm and strong. This love affair moved on happily for many months, until one day the king happened to discover its existence. He did not hesitate nor waver in regard to his duty in the premises. The youth was immediately cast into prison, and a day was appointed for his trial in the king’s arena. This, of course, was an especially important occasion, and his majesty, as well as all the people, was greatly interested in the workings and development of this trial. Never before had such a case occurred; never before had a subject dared to love the daughter of the king. In after years such things became commonplace enough, but then they were in no slight degree novel and startling.

The tiger-cages of the kingdom were searched for the most savage and relentless beasts, from which the fiercest monster might be selected for the arena; and the ranks of maiden youth and beauty throughout the land were carefully surveyed by competent judges in order that the young man might have a fitting bride in case fate did not determine for him a different destiny. Of course, everybody knew that the deed with which the accused was charged had been done. He had loved the princess, and neither he, she, nor any one else, thought of denying the fact; but the king would not think of allowing any fact of this kind to interfere with the workings of the tribunal, in which he took such great delight and satisfaction. No matter how the affair turned out, the youth would be disposed of, and the king would take an aesthetic pleasure in watching the course of events, which would determine whether or not the young man had done wrong in allowing himself to love the princess.

The appointed day arrived. From far and near the people gathered, and thronged the great galleries of the arena, and crowds, unable to gain admittance, massed themselves against its outside walls. The king and his court were in their places, opposite the twin doors, those fateful portals, so terrible in their similarity.

All was ready. The signal was given. A door beneath the royal party opened, and the lover of the princess walked into the arena. Tall, beautiful, fair, his appearance was greeted with a low hum of admiration and anxiety. Half the audience had not known so grand a youth had lived among them. No wonder the princess loved him! What a terrible thing for him to be there!

As the youth advanced into the arena he turned, as the custom was, to bow to the king, but he did not think at all of that royal personage. His eyes were fixed upon the princess, who sat to the right of her father. Had it not been for the moiety of barbarism in her nature it is probable that lady would not have been there, but her intense and fervid soul would not allow her to be absent on an occasion in which she was so terribly interested. From the moment that the decree had gone forth that her lover should decide his fate in the king’s arena, she had thought of nothing, night or day, but this great event and the various subjects connected with it. Possessed of more power, influence, and force of character than any one who had ever before been interested in such a case, she had done what no other person had done,–she had possessed herself of the secret of the doors. She knew in which of the two rooms, that lay behind those doors, stood the cage of the tiger, with its open front, and in which waited the lady. Through these thick doors, heavily curtained with skins on the inside, it was impossible that any noise or suggestion should come from within to the person who should approach to raise the latch of one of them. But gold, and the power of a woman’s will, had brought the secret to the princess.

And not only did she know in which room stood the lady ready to emerge, all blushing and radiant, should her door be opened, but she knew who the lady was. It was one of the fairest and loveliest of the damsels of the court who had been selected as the reward of the accused youth, should he be proved innocent of the crime of aspiring to one so far above him; and the princess hated her. Often had she seen, or imagined that she had seen, this fair creature throwing glances of admiration upon the person of her lover, and sometimes she thought these glances were perceived, and even returned. Now and then she had seen them talking together; it was but for a moment or two, but much can be said in a brief space; it may have been on most unimportant topics, but how could she know that? The girl was lovely, but she had dared to raise her eyes to the loved one of the princess; and, with all the intensity of the savage blood transmitted to her through long lines of wholly barbaric ancestors, she hated the woman who blushed and trembled behind that silent door.

When her lover turned and looked at her, and his eye met hers as she sat there, paler and whiter than any one in the vast ocean of anxious faces about her, he saw, by that power of quick perception which is given to those whose souls are one, that she knew behind which door crouched the tiger, and behind which stood the lady. He had expected her to know it. He understood her nature, and his soul was assured that she would never rest until she had made plain to herself this thing, hidden to all other lookers-on, even to the king. The only hope for the youth in which there was any element of certainty was based upon the success of the princess in discovering this mystery; and the moment he looked upon her, he saw she had succeeded, as in his soul he knew she would succeed.

Then it was that his quick and anxious glance asked the question: “Which?” It was as plain to her as if he shouted it from where he stood. There was not an instant to be lost. The question was asked in a flash; it must be answered in another.

Her right arm lay on the cushioned parapet before her. She raised her hand, and made a slight, quick movement toward the right. No one but her lover saw her. Every eye but his was fixed on the man in the arena.

He turned, and with a firm and rapid step he walked across the empty space. Every heart stopped beating, every breath was held, every eye was fixed immovably upon that man. Without the slightest hesitation, he went to the door on the right, and opened it.

Now, the point of the story is this: Did the tiger come out of that door, or did the lady ?

The more we reflect upon this question, the harder it is to answer. It involves a study of the human heart which leads us through devious mazes of passion, out of which it is difficult to find our way. Think of it, fair reader, not as if the decision of the question depended upon yourself, but upon that hot-blooded, semi-barbaric princess, her soul at a white heat beneath the combined fires of despair and jealousy. She had lost him, but who should have him?

How often, in her waking hours and in her dreams, had she started in wild horror, and covered her face with her hands as she thought of her lover opening the door on the other side of which waited the cruel fangs of the tiger!

But how much oftener had she seen him at the other door! How in her grievous reveries had she gnashed her teeth, and torn her hair, when she saw his start of rapturous delight as he opened the door of the lady! How her soul had burned in agony when she had seen him rush to meet that woman, with her flushing cheek and sparkling eye of triumph; when she had seen him lead her forth, his whole frame kindled with the joy of recovered life; when she had heard the glad shouts from the multitude, and the wild ringing of the happy bells; when she had seen the priest, with his joyous followers, advance to the couple, and make them man and wife before her very eyes; and when she had seen them walk away together upon their path of flowers, followed by the tremendous shouts of the hilarious multitude, in which her one despairing shriek was lost and drowned!

Would it not be better for him to die at once, and go to wait for her in the blessed regions of semi-barbaric futurity?

And yet, that awful tiger, those shrieks, that blood!

Her decision had been indicated in an instant, but it had been made after days and nights of anguished deliberation. She had known she would be asked, she had decided what she would answer, and, without the slightest hesitation, she had moved her hand to the right.

The question of her decision is one not to be lightly considered, and it is not for me to presume to set myself up as the one person able to answer it. And so I leave it with all of you: Which came out of the opened door,–the lady, or the tiger?

Hmm

Someone read through this with me or at least part of it and at the same pace so when we got to the end she said “I’d choose the tiger” and I was silent (I can see why both choices are feasible). I think the end note by the author is pertinent and poignant, when I was a teen I used to say to people “with power comes responsibility” prior to the Spiderman film trilogy (2002-07)and before reading a historical account (of course, little we think of is new) and I think the author put it really well in this story. It was not a light or easy decision to make and it took a ‘dark’ princess to make it. I already knew that in the above story I wouldn’t have chosen to send him to the tiger, and for many that would be the obvious answer and certainly of the moral theme we get in modernized fairy tales, children’s and adult media but I can see why she agonized over it. Some decisions are easy to make because we know it’s the right thing to do but try telling that to your feelings. Some we already know we will make even after deliberating or the appearance of deliberating either because we want to, have to or both. Sometimes there is no easy answer. In this case the consequences are heavy both ways. Here we take the feelings of The Lady lightly, it’s more about how the prisoner, how the royalty and bystanders feel.

On a superficial level only thinking of the obvious prisoner I’d say not The Tiger; if he wasn’t a piece of cr*p that I unfortunately was in love with (and I’ve always believed that you can love sombody but you don’t have to be with them if you can’t for whatever reason, unless you’re forced/coerced/manipulated) then no matter how much it pained me for the rest of my life I’d rather he be happy, better off or at least not miserable, or in this case not eaten alive. He could believe anything he wanted/suited him about me, that I was trash, a tramp, that all the truth I’d said was lies, it wouldn’t matter as long as he was ok. The phrase ‘that which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’ has always been bs to me, there’s plenty of things worse than death and if the princess here chose The Lady she’d be choosing a slow, weakening death of herself for the one she loved.

But what about The Lady, don’t you have to protect her too? She doesn’t have a choice either. It’s a rock and a hard place for the obvious prisoner and her, she’s a prisoner too, a prisoner displayed as a prize to be used however the victor sees fit – and as the story outlines, not all the victors are even innocent let alone nice.

Which brought me back to the cards in the book, The Lady or The Tiger and protagonist surprising herself in the end by learning she is both. A real guardian is supposed to be both ferocious and kind. To love and protect, to have and to hold, to give and destroy. Not everyone is worth helping or saving, many come back to bite you and everything they do to others after you’ve helped them is partially on your head. Yet much of the time it’s not for us to choose or we’re unable to choose and we just have to help as many as we can whilst we can. This was a really personal choice in the story. Sometimes you have to put yourself in a bad light to those you love (and/or who are ‘worth it’) to protect them – not hurting them or doing anything bad at all but just having to do what it takes to get them out of a situation even if that makes them hate you, even ruins your relationship/their opinion of you indefinitely. I said I wouldn’t choose The Tiger, but I wouldn’t choose The Lady either. The situation says there are two options but having the strength to make more I’d have to make more no matter how long it took, how hard or the personal toll; I’d try to help all three prisoners (the Lover, the Lady and the Tiger) even from my own cage. I wonder if that’s what the dark princess, the door guardian, chooser, did.

Apparently there was a sequel:

Stockton later wrote “The Discourager of Hesitancy,” a short story, sequel, of sorts, to “The Lady, or the Tiger?,” that begins with travelers visiting the kingdom to discover whether the prince in “The Lady or the Tiger” chose death or the maiden. This is answered with a second story, in which a prince comes to the kingdom to find a wife. He is blindfolded, married to one of forty beautiful maidens and given the ultimatum that he must correctly identify his bride. If he fails, the king’s guard will immediately put him to death. He narrows the choice to two maidens, one of whom smiles and the other who frowns. He chooses correctly and the visitors who came for their answer are told they will only be given the answer to “The Lady or the Tiger” conundrum if they answer this new one correctly.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Lady,_or_the_Tiger

This story later became a part of a triple play called ‘The Apple Tree’.

The Apple Tree is a series of three musical playlets with music by Jerry Bock, lyrics by Sheldon Harnick, and a book by Bock and Harnick with contributions from Jerome Coopersmith. Each act has its own storyline, but all three are tied together by a common theme (someone who believes that they want something, but once they get what they wanted they realize that it wasn’t what they wanted) and common references, such as references to the color brown. The first act is based on Mark Twain’s The Diary of Adam and Eve; the second act is based on Frank R. Stockton’sThe Lady or the Tiger?; the third act is based on Jules Feiffer’s Passionella. The working title for the evening of three musicals was Come Back! Go Away! I Love You!

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Apple_Tree

Tiger Lily flower

TigerLily: not pretty, delightful or elegant is it (sorry Nature if it was you who made it and not people’s cross breeding). Not a flower I’d choose for myself but I guess we can’t all be lovable.

Judgement by its very nature can be both punishment and reward. That’s life – the myriad of thoughts, feelings and acts; wants, needs and desires; it sucks.

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