Lawler Literature 003: BabaYagaology

What other variants are there in the typology? Those dotty old creatures surrounded by cats, whose neighbors break into their house one day and find them dead, in a stench of cat pee? Those greedy old hags of unquenched sexual appetite?....Those wealthy old women who submit hysterically to treatments—face-lifts, liposuction, hormone therapy, shit therapy if necessary—just to delay by a little the inexorable onset of age? Are spas not places which offer the illusion that they delay ageing? Yes, spas are the natural habitat of old hags, except that what used to be called a spa is now—same crap, different packaging—a wellness centre. p. 120

The above is an excerpt from Dubravka Ugresic's Baba Yaga Laid an Egg, translated from Croatian. The passage makes a valid point: old women are primarily characterized by their marginality and by their 'shameful' failure to remain youthful. For an in-depth analysis of the themes of Baba Yaga, I urge you to check out Jessa Crispin's article at NPR.org.

Meanwhile, I will just tell you that Ugresic's novel is a diptych revolving around elderly women who have more power than they would at first seem to possess. Though the world mocks them and underrates their usefulness, these women make things happen.

Which brings me to the mythological Old Witch herself, Baba Yaga. Here's a portion from Dr. Aba Bagay's fascinating glossary of the Slavic legend:

Baba Yaga lives in a forest, or on the edge of a forest, in a cramped little hut that stand's on hens legs and turns around on the spot. She has a skeleton-leg ('Baba Yaga, bony leg!'), dangling breasts that she dumps on the stove or hangs over a pole, a long sharp nose that knocks against the ceiling (nos potolok ros), and she flies around in a mortar, rowing herself through the air with a pestle, wiping away her traces with a broom. p. 247

In modern parlance, it is as if the old bag lady, the neighborhood hoarder, the bitter senile hag, had the ability to, I don't know, fix your cable with a Samantha-like wink, or power your electricity, or solve all of you modern-day problems. Someone you would normally go out of your way to avoid or ignore becomes un-ignorable, and, in fact, important.

Young quest-seekers are forever needing Baba Yaga's help. But she gives them nothing for free. Often, she requires that they perform a task for her. Only once they've proven themselves worthy will she deign to help them.

Baba Yaga is familiar to me, has always been familiar to me, even if the name strikes no chords. I've encountered her before.

For one thing, Hayo Miyazaki has a couple of Baba Yaga surrogates in his gorgeous animated film, Spirited Away. The above description of Baba Yaga immediately brought to mind the absurdly proportioned Yubaba and her sister Zeniba. According, to Dr. Bagay, Baba Yaga often had identical sisters. Yubaba can turn into a bird, just like several versions of Baba Yaga. In one memorable scene, Yubaba flares her immense nostrils and promises to work the young protagonist until she “draws her very last breath,” the same way Baba Yaga tests her guests. The two personalities have a great deal in common, indeed.

Or, what about Nanny McPhee?

Baba Yaga is no caretaker. In fact, she is said to devour children. But, there is certainly something coldly vindictive about the way Nanny McPhee mystically punishes errant children. Yet, like Baba Yaga, McPhee is not wholly on the side of evil. In the end, the ugly, old hag always leaves the protagonists better than she found them.

And let's not forget Macbeth's Weird Sisters, or even Strega Nona.

I sincerely hope that I become a uncanny crone one day. Seems like wicked fun. Maybe it's the secret to longevity.