She is beautiful, that's for sure.
Steely blue eyes, sweeping lashes, a heart-shaped face framed by sparkling white fur.
She's also strong, beguiling anyone who falls in her path, mesmerizing them, hypnotizing them.
And she is mysterious.
She lives all alone in a palace made entirely of ice perched atop a frozen tundra.
Does it suit her?
Well, of course it does.
Because, as you must already suspect, the cold never bothers her at all.
If she sounds familiar, it's because she is.
She is the one who started it all.
The original, the very first, Snow Queen.
I'm Keith Morrison, and this is Season 4 of Morrison Mysteries.
Here now, with a translation by Mrs. H.B.
Paul, is Hans Christian Andersen's The Snow Queens.
So now we begin.
Pay close attention to the start of our story, for we'll know much more by the end about a very wicked hobgoblin.
He was one of the very worst, for he was a real demon.
One day, when he was in a merry mood, he made a looking-glass which had the power of making everything good or beautiful that was reflected in it shrink to almost nothing, while everything that was worthless and bad appeared magnified and worse than ever.
The most lovely landscapes appeared like boiled spinach, and the people became hideous and looked as if they had stood on their heads and had no bodies.
Their expressions were so distorted that no one could recognize them, and even one freckle on the face appeared to spread over the whole of the nose and mouth.
The demon hog goblin thought this was very amusing.
When a good or pious thought passed through the mind of anyone, it was completely twisted in the glass.
And then how the demon would laugh at his cunning invention.
All who went to the demon's school talked about the wonders they had seen and declared that people could now, for the first time, finally see what the world and mankind were really alike.
They carried the glass about everywhere till, at last, there was not a land nor a people who had not been looked at through this distorted mirror.
They wanted even to fly with it up to heaven to see the angels.
But the higher they flew, the more slippery the glass became, and they could scarcely hold it till at last it slipped from their hands and fell to the earth and was broken into millions and billions of pieces.
But now the looking glass caused more unhappiness than ever.
For some of the fragments were not so large as a grain of sand, and they flew about the world in every country.
When one of these tiny atoms flew into a person's eye, it stuck there, unknown to him.
And from that moment he saw everything through a distorted medium or could see only the worst side of what he looked at, for even the smallest fragment retained the same power which had belonged to the whole mirror.
Some few persons even got a fragment of the looking-glass in their hearts, and this was very terrible, for their hearts became cold like a lump of ice.
A few of the pieces were so large they could be used as window panes.
It would have been a sad thing to look at our friends through them.
Other pieces were made into glasses, and this was dreadful for those who wore them, for they could see nothing, either rightly or justly.
At all this, the wicked demon laughed until his side shook.
It tickled him to see the mischief he had done.
And all the while, there were just these little fragments of glass floating about in the air, hovering above, just waiting.
And now you shall hear what happened with one of them.
In a large town full of houses and people, there isn't room for everybody to have a little garden.
Some have to make do with a few flowers in pots.
But in one of those large towns there lived two poor children who had a garden that was larger and better than just a few flower pots.
They were not brother and sister, but they loved each other almost as much as if they had been.
Their parents lived opposite each other in two attics where the roofs of neighboring houses pointed towards each other.
In each house was a little window so that anyone could step out the window frame and cross the gutter from one window to the other.
The parents of these children each had a large wooden box in which they planted kitchen herbs and little rose bushes which grew splendidly.
Now, after a while, the parents decided to place these two boxes across the divide, so that they reached from one window to the other and looked like two banks of flowers.
Sweet peas dropped over the boxes and the rose bushes shot forth long branches which were curled around the windows and clustered together almost like a triumphal arch of leaves and flowers.
The boxes were very high, and the children knew they must not climb up on them without permission.
But they were allowed to step out together and sit upon their little stools under the rose bushes and play quietly.
In winter all their fun came to an end, for the windows were sometimes quite frozen over.
But that's when the children would warm copper pennies on the stove and hold the warm pennies against the frozen pane, and soon little round holes appeared through which they could peep, and the soft, bright eyes of the little boy and girl would beam through the holes as they looked at each other.
Their names were Kay and Gerda.
In summer they could be together with one small jump from the window, but in winter they had to go up and down the long staircase and out through the snow before they could meet.
One day during a snowstorm, flurries rushed past the window.
Kay's old grandmother said, See, there are the white bees swarming.
Do they have a queen bee? asked the little boy, for he knew the real bees always had a queen.
To be sure, they have, said the grandmother.
She's flying where the swarm is thickest.
She is the largest of them all and never remains on the earth, but flies up to the dark clouds.
Often at midnight she flies through the streets of the town and looks in at the windows, and then the ice freezes on the panes into wonderful shapes that look like flowers and castles.
Yes, I've seen them, said both the children, and they knew it must be true.
Can the Snow Queen come in here? asked the little girl.
Only let her come, said the boy.
I'll set her on the stove and then she'll melt.
The grandmother smoothed his hair and told him some more tales.
One evening, when little Kay was at home, he climbed on a chair by the window and peeped out through the little hole.
A few flakes of snow were falling, and one of them, rather larger than the rest, landed on the edge of one of the flower boxes.
The snowflake grew larger and larger until, at last, it became the figure of a woman dressed in the most brilliant white gauze, which looked like millions of starry snowflakes linked together.
She was fair and beautiful, but made of ice, shining and glittering ice.
Still, she was alive, and her eyes sparkled like bright stars.
But there was neither peace nor rest in her glance.
She nodded towards the window and waved her hand.
The little boy was frightened and sprang from the chair.
At the same moment it seemed as if a large bird flew by the window.
The next day there was a clear frost, and very soon the spring came.
The sun shone, the young green leaves burst forth, the swallows built their nests, windows were opened and the children sat once more in the garden on the roof, high above all the other rooms.
How beautiful!
Beautifully the roses blossomed that summer.
The little girl had learned a hymn about roses, and she sang it to the little boy, and he sang too.
Roses bloom and cease to be, but we shall the Christ child see.
Then the little ones held each other by the hand and kissed the roses and looked at the bright sunshine.
Those were splendid summer days.
How beautiful and fresh it was out among the rose bushes which seemed as if they would never stop blooming.
One day Kay and Gerda sat looking at a book full of pictures of animals and birds.
And then, just as the clock in the church tower struck, twelve Kay said Oh, something has struck my heart.
Soon after, he exclaimed, Now there's something in my eye.
The little girl put her arm around his neck and looked into his eye, but she could see nothing.
"'I think it's gone,' he said.
But it was not gone.
It was one of those bits of the looking-glass, that magic mirror of which we have spoken, the ugly glass which made everything great and good appear small and ugly.' while all that was wicked and bad became magnified until every little fault could be seen.
Poor little Kay.
He had also received a small grain in his heart, which quickly turned into a lump of ice.
He felt no more pain, but the glass was still there.
And so, a shard of glass, that devious, terrible glass, has at last found its mark.
Poor, sweet Kay, of all people.
His heart hardened, his vision altered.
What will happen to him now?
Far above the city streets.
On their apartments' dusty rooftops, friends Kay and Gerda manage to build their own little world full of joy and happiness.
But now that tiny piece of mirror has pierced it, secretly making its way into Kay's eye and his heart.
Now his whole world is different.
And Gerda has no idea why.
Once again, the Snow Queen.
Why do you cry?
Chaos scared it at last.
Makes you look ugly.
There's nothing the matter with me now.
Oh, he cried suddenly, look at those roses.
That one is worm-eaten and this one is quite crooked.
After all, they're ugly roses, just like the box in which they stand.
And then he kicked the boxes with his foot and broke off the two roses.
Kay, what are you doing? cried the little girl.
And then, when he saw how frightened she was, he tore off another rose and jumped through his own window away from sweet little Gerda.
Later, when she brought out the picture book, he said, it was only fit for babies.
And when grandmother told any stories he would interrupt her with but or he would get behind her chair, put on a pair of spectacles and imitate her very cleverly to make people laugh.
Eventually, he began to mimic people in the street how they talked, how they walked, all that was peculiar or disagreeable in a person he would imitate.
And people said, that boy will be very clever.
He has a remarkable genius.
But it was the piece of glass in his eye and the coldness in his heart that made him act like this.
He would even tease little Gerda, who loved him with all her heart.
His games, too, were quite different.
They were not so childish.
One winter's day, when it snowed, he brought out a magnifying glass and let the snowflakes fall on it.
Look in this glass Gerda, he said, and she saw how every flake of snow was magnified and looked like a beautiful flower or a glittering star.
Is it not clever, said Kay, and much more interesting than looking at real flowers?
There's not a single fault that snowflakes are quite perfect until they begin to melt away.
Soon after, Kay appeared in large, thick gloves and with his sled at his back.
He called upstairs to Gerda.
I'm going sledding in the great square where the other boys are playing.
And away he went.
In the great square.
The boldest among the boys would often tie their sleds to people's carts and get dragged along for a good ride.
This was capital fun.
But while Kay and the other boys were amusing themselves, a great sled whooshed by.
It was painted white, and in it sat someone wrapped in a fluffy white fur and wearing a white cap.
The sled drove around the square twice and Kay fastened his own little sled to it so that when it sped away he followed with it.
It went faster and faster, right through the next street.
The person who drove turned around and nodded pleasantly to Kay, just as if they were acquainted with each other.
Whenever Kay tried to loosen his little sled, the driver turned around and nodded again, so that Kay settled down and sat still.
There he remained as they drove on and on, and finally out through the town gate.
Then the snow began to fall so heavily that the little boy could not even see his hand before him.
But still they drove on.
And then he tried loosening the cord so that the large sled might go on without him, but it was of no use.
His little carriage held fast, and away they went like the wind.
Then he called out loudly, but nobody heard him, while the snow beat upon him and the sled flew onwards.
Every now and then it gave a jump as if they were going over hedges and ditches.
The boy was frightened and tried to say a prayer, but he could remember nothing but the multiplication table.
The snowflakes became larger and larger until they appeared like great white chickens.
All at once they sprang on one side.
The great sled stopped, and the person who had driven it rose up.
The fur and the cap, which were made entirely of snow, fell off, and he saw a lady, tall and white.
It was the Snow Queen.
"'We have driven well,' she said.
"'But why do you tremble?
Here, creep into my warm fur.'
Then she seated him beside her in the sled, and as she wrapped the fur around him he felt as if he was sinking into a snowdrift.
"'Are you still cold?' she asked as she kissed him on the forehead.
The kiss was colder than ice.
It went quite through to his heart, which is already almost a lump of ice.
He felt as if he were going to die, but only for a moment.
He soon seemed quite well again and did not notice the cold all around him.
My sled, don't forget my sled, was his first thought.
And then he looked and saw that it was bound fast to one of the white chickens which flew behind him with the sled at its back.
The Snow Queen kissed the lequet again, and by this time he had forgotten little Gerda and his grandmother and all that was at home.
Now you must have no more kisses, she said, or I should kiss you to death.
Kay looked at her and saw that she was so beautiful.
He could not imagine a more intelligent and lovely face.
Now she did not seem to be made of ice as when he had seen her through his window and she had nodded to him.
In his eyes she was perfect, and he did not feel at all afraid.
He told her he could do mental arithmetic as far as fractions and that he knew the number of square miles and the number of inhabitants in the country.
And she smiled at him in such a way that he thought he had much more to learn and that he didn't know nearly enough yet.
Kay looked around the vast expanse as she flew higher and higher with him upon a black cloud, while the storm blew and howled as if it were singing old songs.
They flew over woods and lakes, over sea and land.
Below them roared the wild wind, the wolves howled, and the snow crackled.
Over them flew the black screaming crows, and all above shone the moon, clear and bright.
And that's how Kay passed through the long winter's night, and by morning he slept at the feet of the Snow Queen.
But how fared little Gerda during Kay's absence?
What had become of him, no one knew, nor could anyone give the slightest information, excepting the boys who said he had tied his sled to another very large one which had driven through the street and right out the town gate.
Nobody knew where it went.
Many tears were shed for Kay, especially by little Gerda, who wept bitterly for a long time.
She said she knew he must be dead, that he was drowned in the river which flowed close by the school.
Oh, indeed, those long winter days were very dreary.
But at last spring came with warm sunshine, and still Gerda mourned.
Kay is dead and gone, she said.
I don't believe it, said the sunshine.
He's dead and gone, she said to the sparrows.
We don't believe it, they replied.
At last little Gerda began to doubt it herself.
I will put on new red shoes she said one morning, those that Kay has never seen and then I will go down to the river and ask for him.
It was quite early when she kissed her old grandmother, who was still asleep, and then put on her red shoes and went quietly alone out of the town gates towards the river.
"'Is it true you have taken my little playmate away from me?' she said to the river.
"'I will give you my red shoes if you will give him back to me.'
And it seemed as if the waves nodded to her in a strange manner."
So she took off her red shoes, which she liked better than anything, and threw them both into the river.
But they fell near the bank and the little waves carried them back to land, just as if the river would not take from her what she loved best, because they could not give her back little Kay.
But she thought the shoes had not been thrown out far enough, So she crept into a boat lying among the reeds and threw the shoes again from the farther end of the boat into the water.
But the boat was not fastened, and her movement sent it gliding away from the land.
When she saw this, she tried to reach the end of the boat, but before she could do so it was more than a yard from the bank and drifting away faster than ever.
Little Gerda was very frightened and began to cry.
But no one heard her, except the sparrows, and they couldn't carry her to land.
But they did fly along the shore, singing as if to comfort her.
"'Here we are!
Here we are!'
The boat floated with the stream."
Little Gerda sat quite still, with only her stockings on her feet.
The red shoes floated after her, but she could not reach them because the boat was going much too fast.
The banks on each side of the river were very pretty, but very empty.
There were beautiful flowers, old trees, sloping fields in which cows and sheep were grazing, but not a man to be seen.
Perhaps the river will carry me to Little Cay, thought Gerda.
And then she became more cheerful and raised her head and looked at the beautiful green banks.
And so the boats sailed on for hours.
Finally, she came to a large cherry orchard in which stood a small house with strange red and blue windows.
It had a thatched roof.
And outside were two wooden soldiers that presented arms to her as she sailed past.
Gerda called out to them, for she thought they were alive, but of course they did not answer.
And as the boat drifted near to the shore, she saw what they really were, just wooden statues.
And then Gerda called again, more loudly this time.
And there came, out of the front door, a very old woman. leaning on a crutch.
That piece of glass from the devilish mirror has left Kay vulnerable.
He's no match for the powerful and captivating Snow Queen, who swoops in and snatches him up.
It's all up to Gerda to save him.
But she is, quite literally, up the creek without a paddle.
She's well out of her depth now, alone and afraid.
Maybe that old woman on the bank will help her.
Maybe.
