The Tower in the Woods
by RC DeWinter
Title
The Tower in the Woods
Artist
RC DeWinter
Medium
Painting - Digital Oils-paintography-photopainting
Description
Copyright 2015 RC deWinter ~ All Rights Reserved
Rapunzel's Tale
Welcome, traveller, to my tomb.
Be not affrighted, my spirit shall not harm you;
I only want to tell someone the truth of my existence.
I know you think you know my story,
but no one has, not really, until now.
It is true I was born to parents who called me Rapunzel
after the rampion my mother so craved when carrying me.
Yes, my father promised me to Gothel, the witch,
in exchange for free access to that plant,
so desperate was my mother for its nourishment.
And yes, when I was born
Gothel came to claim me as her payment.
But from there the truth has been prettified,
obscured to please the optimism of mankind.
The legend says I was beautiful,
but I cannot confirm it by my eyes.
I never saw my own reflection.
Perhaps it is true what is said of witches,
that they cast no image in a glass.
In any case Gothel did not keep mirrors in our house.
I do know my hair grew long and lustrous,
as golden as the noonday summer sun.
But that is all I can tell you of my appearance,
apart from being slender; that I could see for myself.
After my first bleeding, the beginning
of the inevitable transformation from girl to woman,
Gothel took me to a castle deep within a wood,
having neither door nor stairs to the keep
where she installed me.
Apart from all, a hermit in this tower cell,
I was provided food and drink and set to sewing,
making lace, embroidery; this occupation paid my way,
for Gothel took what I produced and sold it
in the market back in town, and though fly she could,
she would enter the tower only by using my hair,
now grown so long it nearly reached the ground.
I never knew when Gothel might arrive,
but when she did she stood below my window slit,
calling,"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair,
that I might climb the golden stair,"
and go to the window I would.
Unwinding my heavy braid, I freed my loosened hair
to fall down to meet her.
By this means Gothel brought my necessities
and took my finished work away.
There was not much to do
during all the lonely hours in this tower;
apart from my needlework and a few books -
which I eventually read so many times
I could recite whole chapters from memory,
all the while greedily envious of the lives
depicted therein - my only other diversion was singing.
I remembered learning songs during my childhood
when Gothel and I still lived in town -
she, unaccountably, had a fondness for music;
we would always be among the crowd
when travelling minstrels came to play in the square
for pence thrown by the townsfolk.
These I would sing as best I could from memory,
inventing verses of my own
when the real words would not come.
It was on a warm afternoon as I sang,
leaning as far out my window as I could
to feel the sun and smell the springtime,
that a man, dressed in the finest of clothing
and mounted on a magnificent steed,
came riding through the wood.
When he drew close enough to hear my song
he stopped, looking around to see from where
such melody might be arising.
Not finding the source earthward,
he eventually looked up
as I hastily withdrew into my chamber.
"Pray, maiden, do not stop!" he called.
"Such a beautiful day merits a beautiful melody."
I was too shy to reply, but peeking out,
I looked down to see he had dismounted,
obviously waiting for me to continue.
To make a very long tale shorter,
we did eventually speak for some time before he rode off.
But he returned often, and the day came
when I loosed my braid and up he climbed into my chamber.
He listened gravely to my sorry tale of captivity
and then told me of himself.
He was the only son of the king of a neighboring land,
slated to inherit the throne.
"But I earnestly hope not for many years," he said,
"for my father is a good man and a good king."
I think it was then that I began to love him,
my Perigor, for that what his name.
That he was not greedy, nor anxious for power,
but instead loved and respected his father, touched my heart.
He called me beautiful, and began to plot a way
to free me from my enchanted enslavement.
Our meetings continued,
although always shadowed with anxiety,
for there was no telling when Gothel might materialize.
For many weeks we escaped discovery,
but finally Gothel, who must have noticed
the change in my demeanor, found us out.
It was a cursed day on which, after Perigor had left,
she flew to my window unannounced and clambered inside.
Gripping my arm so tightly with her clawlike hands
I thought I would faint,
her fierce, seamed face just inches from mine,
she forced me to tell her what she obviously already knew -
that we were in love, that he planned to free me,
that I would someday be his queen.
"You thought wrong when you thought you could deceive me,"
Gothel hissed.
"I shall put an end to this by putting an end to both of you."
From that day on Gothel never left the vicinity of the tower.
Day and night she flew, her hawklike eyes scanning the forest.
And of course not more than a week or so passed
before she spotted Perigor riding to see me.
Flying back inside, she stood behind me as Perigor called,
"Rapunzel, my darling, let down your hair."
I wanted to scream, to tell him to ride for his life,
but she clapped her hands over my mouth
and in a perfect imitation of my voice called out,
"Yes, my love, I have been longing for you."
Then she wrenched my neck cruelly,
and suddenly I was no longer standing
but lying on the stone floor -
unable to move, unable to speak -
and in her hands was my hair;
she had, by some evil magick, pulled it from my head.
I almost fainted from horror as she smiled down at me
and her face became my own
as she wreathed it in my golden tresses.
Leaning out, she loosed the hair
and within minutes Perigor had climbed through the embrasure.
He was about to embrace the woman he thought was me
when Gothel flung the hair out the window,
stood aside and laughed grimly.
Perigor gasped in horror as he saw me lying motionless on the floor.
He turned to Gothel, now restored to her own ugliness,
and shouted, "What have you done, you wicked creature?"
as he reached for his sword.
But all of his strength and goodness was no match
for Gothel's dark and deadly power.
She lifted her left arm, pointing directly at Perigor,
and he was no longer a living, breathing man
but a statue of frozen flesh.
"You thought to steal what is mine," she rasped,
"and now you shall be the sorrier for it."
Then, with the strength born of evil,
she loosed a harsh, maniacal howl
and pushed him out the window.
I heard a loud crash and then a sound
like the ringing of breaking glass
as Perigor's body hit the earth.
Gothel then turned to me.
Bending, digging her hands into my shoulders,
she raised me up and forced me to look down
gaze upon her wretched handiwork.
There lay what was left of the man I had loved,
shattered into thousands of jagged pieces.
"Here you see what comes of betrayal," she intoned solemnly.
"And as for you -"
she pulled me back into the chamber
and let me fall back to the floor -
"You shall die here, alone, bald, forgotten,
until someday someone finds your bones.
Only then will you find rest."
And that, gentle visitor, is what happened.
Gothel flew off; I never saw her again.
I managed to catch rainwater in my hands occasionally,
but it was not long before one day I lay down
and never rose again.
I cannot say I was unhappy to die,
for what was life without love
once I had discovered it?
And now you know the truth.
There were no thorns,
no tears restoring blinded eyes,
no fairytale ending;
those eyes had been shattered
like paste jewels under a hammer.
But how grateful I am for your visit,
that you did not flee but stayed to hear my tale;
I wish you every good fortune.
If there is such a thing as justice in the afterlife,
perhaps Perigor and I will be reunited.
Even if not, now my weary spirit can, at last,
sleep in whatever place is reserved
for those who, in life,
loved perhaps not wisely but well.
Adieu; remember me.
~ copyright 2015 RC deWinter
This painting is a composite - the tower is part of a tiny vintage castle-style house on the coast in Southport, Connecticut, about a mile from where I live/ The trees are from a photograph shot in Newtown Connecticut. I created the moon, sky and field myself and then painted the entire result.
This painting has been FEATURED in
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No Place Like Home
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Thanks to the group hosts for their encouragement and support.
tower, woods, landscape, autumn, fall. night, moon, full moon, field, trees, moody, atmospheric, fantasy, Rapunzel, brick, medieval, rural, architecture, brick, isolated, wall art, rc dewinter, dewinter
Uploaded
September 19th, 2015
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Viewed 1,075 Times - Last Visitor from Fairfield, CT on 03/29/2024 at 6:58 AM
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Jenny Revitz Soper
BRAVO! This amazing art has earned a FEATURE on the homepage of the FAA Group No Place Like Home, 10/15/2016! Don't forget to post it in the Features Discussion thread for posterity and any other thread that fits!