Over the past several years I was able to share some insights and opinions about Slavic mythology with L. D. Colter as she was writing her modern fantasy novel steeped in this mythology and Russian folklore. Earlier this year I was privileged to write the introduction to her book! The book comes out on November 20th from Rebellion Publishing and I figured I’d recommend it here to my readers as well as share the intro that I wrote.
Read on to discover the true origin of the hut on chicken Legs!
I rejoice any time a writer—let alone an excellent wordsmith like L. D. Colter—chooses to incorporate Slavic folklore into their fiction. These characters are seldom seen in Western literature, and when we do encounter them, they’re often depicted with all the accuracy and authenticity of Ivan Drago in Rocky, a Russian boxer portrayed by a Swedish chemical engineer.
There is good reason for this, however. There are heaps of material on Greek and Roman and Egyptian pantheons, but few reliable records about the Slavic deities. Any writer who undertakes the task of telling their stories must labor without a safety net.
Just how scarce are the records? We know that Perun was the equivalent of Zeus or Jupiter, a mighty thunder god at the top of the food chain. By comparison, we don’t know much about Stribog at all. It’s not even certain that the two were parts of the same pantheon.
These gods were worshiped by the Slavic tribes before the Varangians—Vikings—conquered the region and established city-states that eventually consolidated into Kievan Rus. No significant written records have survived, and much of what we know about the history of Kievan Rus comes from the Primary Chronicle, the manuscript written several centuries later. It was authored by a monk named Nestor, whose principal goal appeared to be lionizing Christianity and its early adopters rather than accuracy.
Thus, our glimpse into Slavic religions and mythology comes from oral storytelling, where old tales and rituals survived and changed over the centuries in an uneasy balance with Christianity. Many of the spirits the Slavs used to worship became known as devils, others were relegated to fairy-tale characters. As for the pagan gods? Those were not tolerated by the Church and therefore sent to the dustbin of history.
Like all verbal stories, Slavic folk tales shifted and changed with every telling. The versions of Kaschei the Deathless and other mythological staples as we know them today are largely from the 17th and 18th centuries.
Consider Baba Yaga. She is an old character, likely as old as Perun. But would a 7th century Slav recognize her modern depiction? Baba Yaga is often—but not always—described as a hideous old woman with features such as a bony leg or iron teeth. She’s simultaneously an evil witch to be defeated, and a guardian of the forest and of the old ways, to be placated. At times she serves as a guide to the underworld. That’s a lot of jobs for one senior citizen! Colter chose to base her on a possible pre-Christian portrayal as someone who acted as a guide or teacher of young children, though not a particularly benevolent one.
Today the most recognized attribute of Baba Yaga is her home: She lives in a hut on chicken legs. Or does she?
The idea of this hut is almost certainly more recent than Baba Yaga herself. Most experts agree that the “legs” are wooden stilts. The structures raised on one or more stilts in swampland were common among people in Finland, Karelia, and Siberia. They were built that way to reduce dampness and avoid rot. But when did the Slavs come into contact with this technology? Was it brought by the Vikings, too?
The hut legs may have nothing to do with chickens, either. The Russian term “курьи ножки” sure does sound like “chicken legs,” but the word “куръ” means both “rooster” and “hut rafters” or “hut stilts.” (Dal’s Explanatory Dictionary of the Living Great Russian Language, 2nd edition, 1881.) Don’t worry—everyone gets it wrong. There’s a “no harm, no fowl” joke in there, somewhere.
So you see, depicting these characters well is difficult work, and may require an entire wall of cute kitten motivational posters that say, Hang in there! (Well, the cute kitten posters can’t hurt, anyway.)
But, as common wisdom goes, every challenge is an opportunity. Such ambiguity is license for a writer to add to the canon, to fill in the blank spots in the most interesting way possible. In this book, Colter resurrects the old gods in her own unique manner that still feels respectful of the lore. Let her be your guide into the deep dark forest of Slavic folk tales. You are certain to enjoy the tour!
Preorder the book here.