How Quest Sought Truth, A Croatian Folk Tale We All Need
A story from Croatia about how the rich and powerful are probably more like impish little goblins than you might think.
This week, washing up on the sunkissed shores of the Library of Found Things comes a Croatian tale steeped in the mythic themes of a nation that has had to wrestle with its own identity for centuries. Out of this tradition comes a folk tale we should all keep in our back pockets to remind ourselves when we’re missing the point.
Long ago, in the heart of a forest so old and dense that even the birds had forgotten what lay inside, lived an old man and his three sons. The old man was called Witting and, true to his name, he had an understanding of the world reserved exclusively for the wisest of our elders. This was why he spent his days maintaining the sacred fire that stood just in front of his house.
His sons were called Bluster, Careful and Quest. They doted on the old man and obliged each of his requests with enthusiasm. Even travelling deep into the dark forest to check on his beehives. Bluster, Careful and Quest dallied along the barely-visible path for a while, asking each other what they thought the world beyond the forest held. Their daydreaming continued until, as one, they felt a chill of recognition. They had walked deep into the forest, away from the Sacred Fire and very much into the realm of the infamously mean goblin Rampogusto.
To keep their spirits up, they sang an old song to the mysterious Little Lord All-Rosy. When, all of a sudden, there was a glimmering light that drew closer and closer until it was upon them and, unfurling out of it as he opened his cloak, was All-Rosy himself. The young men dove into the bushes.
“Why did you call me if you’re afraid of me?” All-Rosy laughed, “If you wish to see the world I can show it all to you.”
The three sons emerged and looked at All-Rosy with red faces. All-Rosy swept them up in his golden cloak and spun them into the sky. They clung to the golden hem and first saw all the treasures and riches the world had to offer. Then all of the world’s armies and gleaming weapons spun before their eyes. Finally, they saw the stars in the heavens, along with the Seven Sisters and the Moon in all her majesty. The magical ways of the winds and clouds that the canopy of leaves had hidden from the young men all their lives shocked them in their splendour.
When they landed All-Rosy laughed and offered them a premonition of their future. If you are to be lucky, he said, then you must stay with your grandfather until he leaves you. Repay him for the love and kindness he has offered you with no expectation of a return. That is a rare thing, even for parents and grand-parents, honour it. Then All-Rosy disappeared.
As the three brothers walked, the visions All-Rosy had shown them spun so wildly in their minds that they began to forget what had just happened to them. Unfortunately for them all, there was one creature who had heard All-Rosy’s premonition and had an impeccable memory.
Rampogusto was there that night and his ugliness was matched only by his hatred for Witting and the Sacred Fire. The smoke from this fire - clear and willingly given - played havoc with Rampogusto’s hate-filled lungs and so he went to a patch of osier in the forest where his brood of wild imps frolicked. Rampogusto ordered them to follow the young men out of the forest and harangue them into leaving their grandfather. Unable to take care of himself, Rampogusto surmised, the Sacred Fire will surely go out.
So the little goblins laughed and pranced from branch to bole until they found the young boys at their grandfather’s house. Old Witting asked his sons what had happened. The boys told him that they had met All-Rosy and he had shown them the world. What did you see? Witting asked but just as Careful was about to tell him he couldn’t remember, one of the goblins climbed up his shirt and began whispering to him. Careful suddenly remembered exactly what he had seen.
“I saw … I saw treasures of gold and the produce of the land and All-Rosy told me that I would be the richest man in the world!”
He looked off in a daze. Witting asked Bluster what he saw and a second goblin tugged the young man’s shirt and whispered, “I saw all of the armies in the world with terrifying weapons and All-Rosy told me that I would become the mightiest warrior of all.”
Quest looked at the two of them aghast and, when came his turn, for all the tugging and whispering of the little imp at his back he could not bring himself to tell his grandfather a lie. He stood up, flustered, and announced that he would leave the house that day and not return until he could remember exactly what All-Rosy showed him. Witting begged him not to leave but Quest was an honest young man and the lacuna in his memory pained him more than leaving his grandfather ever could.
Just before he stepped over the threshold, Quest hesitated. There was something nagging at him, some phantom thought, but he assumed that it was simply the fact that he couldn’t remember the most important moment of his life thus far. So he shook off the feeling and strode into the woods. The little imp that tried to coerce Quest followed along at a trot.
Quest walked for miles and miles, batting away the stones and insects that the little imp threw at him all along the way. He cursed the little goblin for not leaving him in peace to remember what he had forgotten but he walked onwards anyway. When they finally came to a rocky outcrop, Quest thought that this was the perfect place for him to ponder on what All-Rosy had said and even the goblin worried that this place would make his job much harder and he would have to return to his grumpy Lord empty-handed.
Meanwhile, at Witting’s house, Careful and Bluster had fallen deep into their own false motivations. Careful had taken to counting and ordering and seeking out everything he could quantify and, most importantly, own. Bluster spent all the sunlit hours roaming the forest for the perfect young ash trees with which he could make weapons to exert his power over his fellow man. Witting watched in despair at what had happened to his kind-hearted sons.
For almost a year Quest sat on that rock and forced his mind to dig into the hole in his memory of that trip with All-Rosy. He looked at the horizon in silence, only turning away from his efforts to laugh at whatever tomfoolery the little imp had taken to performing to keep him distracted. He smiled as he saw this little goblin tumble, throw crabs, spin on his head and pull gurning faces but every time he was distracted he vowed to stay a little longer.
Careful and Bluster, however, had reached the limits of their delusions and both came to the conclusion that the only thing that was stopping them from owning all the treasures and conquering all the lands of the world was their grandfather. They saw him obstinately hoarding the land beneath his house that could be used for some profit and they decided to burn it to the ground with him inside. So, one night, they lit fires at each of the four corners of the house and Witting only awoke when the roof caved in and he could see the dawn painting the sky through the trees. Rather than have thoughts of betrayal or anger, Witting wondered where his upright son could have gone to and if he would ever see him again.
That very morning, Quest roared at the gleaming horizon. He had spent over a year away from his grandfather and for what? A companion who made him laugh under his breath and a memory no fuller than the deep well that lay nearby. All-Rosy heard the young man’s lament and appeared in a gyre of golden fabric. Quest was shocked and delighted to see All-Rosy but the Little Lord crossed his arms and looked at him with furious disappointment.
“I told you,” he said and his golden curls trembled, “to stay by your grandfather’s side until he left you, to repay the love and learning he had doted upon you, but you were so fickle and empty-headed that you left to sit on a rock for a year.”
Quest wanted to speak but his horror turned his tongue to stone. Then, All-Rosy wrapped his cloak around himself and spun off into the morning sky. Quest couldn’t believe he didn’t remember that most important of advice from the Little Lord. He picked up his little bag and walked to the well to wash his face before running home to his grandfather. But the well was deep and the water lay just beyond his reach. He remembered the feeling of his lost memory just before he touched the glistening surface, then he fell forward and into the water. Sinking to the very bottom, where the dawnlight never reached.
The little goblin jumped for joy when he saw Quest’s pale skin lying at the bottom of the well. My job is done! He said. He threw rocks and danced for a moment as he waited for the feeling of elation to match his actions. But it never came. He danced and performed but he felt no happiness. He had tormented the young man for a year and, just as Quest had grinned at the goblin’s acts, the goblin was amazed at how the young man didn’t hit him or abuse him back. He had come to admire him, in spite of his fear of Rampogusto. So, the little imp sat on Quest’s bag and wept.
From Careful’s pocket and Bluster’s breast, the two tormenting imps heard their brother’s cries and worried for him, as goblins are more loyal than any of the mysterious creatures of the woods. They leapt from their hiding places and ran to the tree-line. As soon as they left the vicinity of Careful and Bluster’s hearts the two young men blinked and it was as if they had been in a dream for a year. They looked at each other and then turned to see their grandfather’s house still in flames. They ran inside and dragged Witting out and put him on a blanket on the grass. They pleaded with him for forgiveness and Witting, in his aged wisdom, saw that his true sons had returned and he harboured them no ill will. Instead, he told them to carry him into the forest to find their lost brother.
They brothers didn’t know where they were walking but Witting encouraged them onwards anyway and the forest brought them to the exact rocky outcrop where Quest had ended his days. They found no goblin there and were gladdened to see that the well was empty. They looked to the horizon and had to shade their eyes as a vast golden palace shone into view. The two sons recognised its light well from their encounter with All-Rosy and they declared whose palace it was. However, there was an incongruous figure sitting on its steps with his head in his hands. It was Quest, alive and well.
“What are you doing there, my son?” asked Witting as he used his other sons to help him stand. “All-Rosy saved me from drowning” Quest said, “and brought me here but he won’t let me into his palace because I forgot his advice and I betrayed you.”
Witting tapped Careful and Bluster on the shoulders and told them again that they were forgiven. He kissed them on the cheeks and, with newfound vigour, strode off the rocky outcrop and onto the lowest step of the palace. He shouted back to his sons and reminded them of their folly and implored them, though he forgave them for it, to remember it all of their days in order to lead an honest life henceforth. Then he helped Quest to his feet, walked up the steps, and knocked on the enormous golden door. The door opened and All-Rosy greeted them both with a radiant smile and invited them inside.
Ivana Brlić-Mažuranić first published her Croatian Tales of Long Ago in 1916 and it had a profound impact on the culture of Croatia. It appeared during a time of extreme political upheaval, a time when Croatia was searching for its distinct cultural identity out of the rubble of the Austro-Hungarian Empire that had dominated (what is the modern-day territory of) Croatia for over 200 years.
Brlić-Mažuranić largely invented her Tales but they drew upon a deep history of mythic and folkloric traditions that were central to the storytelling heart of Croatia, which is why they struck such a powerful note at the time. When a people have been ravaged and dominated by an empire for so long, they tend to have pretty condensed and focussed opinions on the matter, which seem to come through quite clearly in the tale of How Quest Sought Truth.
All-Rosy showed the entire world to the three brothers but their interpretations of the world differed wildly by the time they came to retell them to their grandfather. For example, All-Rosy showed the brothers all of the treasures in the world but the goblin made Careful think that he not only could own them but that he bloody-well should! Bluster’s goblin tugged at his clothes and reminded him of all the gleaming armies he saw and how life would be a whole lot better if he emulated their power and dominated them all. Fairly typical imperial behaviour on both counts.
The use of goblins or imps in the narrative is particularly telling. In the Tales they’re depicted as mad, impulsive rogues who are stalwartly loyal to each other but only really want to tumble around and get into mischief. Until, that is, their leader Rampogusto uses his own loathing to direct their mischief towards his own villainous ends. Is there a better metaphor for unchecked emotions wielded with vengeance?
Then consider the role of Quest in the story. He was willing to risk everything he knew rather than betray his own morals but he still hesitated on his grandfather’s doorstep because he still wasn’t sure whether his moral compass was pointing him in the direction. Conviction meets circumspection, a pair of qualities that are extremely rare, especially found together.
Now, this isn’t a Substack about the complexities of the Austro-Hungarian Empire but, in some regards, all empires are the same: Conquering, resource-leeching bastards that wave a flag at you to make you think what they’re doing is anything but theft. They never lack conviction - especially in their own righteousness - and they treat circumspection as treasonous. They exemplify the delusions of both Careful and Bluster in equal measure with none of the level-headedness of Quest anywhere to be seen.
How many grandfathers have been done in by Imperial-Imps because they got in the way of “profit”, “progress” or, for that matter, “psychopathy”? Damn near any CEO would skin his own mother to achieve quarterly growth and the only flags they wave are the silky soup-catchers they tie around their necks just a few inches too loose to do any good for the world.
And Rampogusto’s role just drives the message home further. He sends his goblins to Witting’s house because he was sick of the “sacred fire” Witting (lit. aware) had stoked for many years. We could read this “sacred fire” as a sense of morality, which the wise person should tend to just as they might a flame. This kind of moral upkeep has a strange effect on people like Rampogusto, who see morality as something for philosophers and phonies.
Quest’s acceptance into All-Rosy’s palace probably has something to do with this sense of moral upkeep too, in that he preferred slow deliberation - itself a form of ‘tending’ - in order to maintain the sacred fire of his own morality. He laughs at the imp - who represents his own intrusive thoughts? - in its mischief and is unphased by its suggestions of hyper-ambition.
Now, this is not to say that ambition is necessarily always a bad thing but you would have to be in a pretty deep well not to see the downside of its excesses, especially when they come at the expense of those in our community who are less fortunate than ourselves and in need of our efforts to take care of them.
The thing is, this version is a modern tale that was intended as a unifying collection of Croatian stories against an historical backdrop of imperialism that sought to diminish local identities in favour of greed and military expansion … remind you of anybody? The truth of the story is an eternal one. It’s about identifying our own moral compass. It’s about looking askance at the impish yearnings for riches and power, and laughing at them for the follies that they are.
Empires - whether they wave a flag or an investment portfolio - will always try to impose their own morality on you and try to stamp out any individual thought wherever possible. That’s how they function. They either try to convince you that their actions are moral or they tell you that morality is for the weak and this world is for the strong.
So, it’s probably best to sit yourself down, have a real think about your own morality, and resist those bastards’ impish little charms.