Once upon a time, a fisherman lived with his wife, Ilsabil, in a miserable little hovel beside the sea. Every day, he went out with his fishing rod, hoping to catch something that would help them survive.
One day, as he sat watching the clear water, he felt a powerful tug on his line. When he pulled it up, he discovered a large flounder.
To his astonishment, the fish began to speak.
“Please let me live,” it pleaded. “I am not an ordinary flounder but an enchanted prince. There is no point in killing me. I would not make a good meal, so return me to the sea.”
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The fisherman was surprised, but he saw no reason to argue with a talking fish. He returned the flounder to the water, and it disappeared beneath the waves, leaving a long streak of blood behind it.
With nothing else to show for his day, the fisherman returned home.
His wife asked whether he had caught anything. He explained what had happened and told her that he had released the enchanted fish.
“Did you ask it for anything before you let it go?” she demanded.
“No,” he replied. “What would I have asked for?”
His wife looked around their miserable home. Surely, she argued, he could have requested a small cottage so they would no longer have to live in such unpleasant conditions.
The fisherman was reluctant to return to the sea, but his wife insisted. At last, he gave in and went back to the shore.
The water was no longer clear and peaceful. It had turned green and yellow, and its surface was beginning to stir.
He called out:
“Flounder, flounder in the sea,
Come, I pray thee, here to me;
For my wife, good Ilsabil,
Wills not as I’d have her will.”
The flounder appeared and asked what his wife wanted.
“She says we should not have to live in our wretched hovel any longer,” the fisherman explained. “She would like a little cottage.”
“Go home,” replied the flounder. “She already has it.”
When the fisherman arrived home, he could hardly believe his eyes. The miserable hovel had been replaced by a pleasant cottage, complete with comfortable rooms, a well-equipped kitchen, a small yard with hens and ducks, and a garden filled with flowers and fruit.
His wife sat happily outside the door and showed him their new home.
“Isn’t this much better?” she asked.
“It certainly is,” he replied. “Now we can live contentedly.”
His wife, however, was not ready to settle for what they had received.
For a week or two, they enjoyed their new life. Then Ilsabil began to complain again.
“The cottage is too small,” she told her husband. “The garden and yard are tiny. The flounder could easily give us a great stone castle. Go and ask for one.”
The fisherman objected. Their cottage was perfectly good, he said, and he feared that asking for more so soon might anger the enchanted fish. But his wife would not listen.
Heavy-hearted, he returned to the sea.
This time, the water had turned purple, dark blue and grey. It was thick and gloomy, although the surface remained relatively quiet. He repeated his familiar call.
The flounder appeared and listened to his request.
“My wife wants to live in a great stone castle,” the fisherman explained.
“Go home,” said the flounder. “She is already standing before its door.”
Sure enough, the little cottage had become a magnificent palace. The fisherman found his wife waiting on its steps, ready to take possession of their new home.
Inside were marble halls, golden furniture, crystal chandeliers, richly decorated rooms, servants and tables laden with fine food and wine. Outside stood stables, carriages, a beautiful garden and an enormous park filled with animals.
The fisherman was amazed.
“Surely, now we can be content,” he said.
“We shall see,” his wife answered.
The next morning, Ilsabil looked out at the vast lands surrounding their castle. A new desire immediately took hold of her.
“Wake up!” she told her husband. “Look at all that land. Why should we not be king and queen over it?”
The fisherman did not want to be king. He was already troubled by how much they had asked for, and he could not understand why their blessings were never enough.
But his wife insisted that she wanted to be king, and he was forced to return to the sea.
The water had become dark grey, and foul-smelling waves rose from beneath its surface. The fisherman called for the flounder and explained his wife’s new demand.
“Go home,” the fish replied. “She is king already.”
When the fisherman returned, the palace had grown even grander. Soldiers guarded the entrance, trumpets sounded, and the halls glittered with marble and gold. His wife sat on a magnificent throne, wearing a golden crown and holding a jewelled sceptre.
“Now that you are king,” her husband pleaded, “let us ask for nothing more. We can live happily with what we have.”
But Ilsabil was already thinking about her next wish.
“I am king,” she declared, “but I want to be emperor too.”
The fisherman warned her that becoming emperor was an unreasonable demand. Surely, he argued, the flounder could not grant her every title in the world.
His wife grew angry.
“If the flounder can make me king, it can make me emperor! Go at once.”
Unable to resist her commands, the fisherman returned to the sea.
The water had turned black and thick, bubbling as though something beneath it were boiling. A sharp wind swept across the shore. Frightened, he called for the flounder and explained what his wife wanted.
“Go home,” said the fish. “She is emperor already.”
The fisherman returned to find an even more extraordinary palace, filled with golden decorations, magnificent guards and powerful nobles. His wife sat on an enormous golden throne, wearing a towering crown and holding the symbols of imperial authority.
“Are you emperor now?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered proudly.
“Then please be satisfied,” he begged. “What more could you possibly want?”
His wife looked at him and announced her next ambition.
“I want to be pope.”
The fisherman was horrified. He tried to explain that the flounder could not make her pope, but she dismissed his objections. If the fish could make her emperor, she reasoned, it could make her pope as well.
She commanded him to go immediately.
The fisherman trembled as he made his way back to the shore. The weather had grown terrible. Strong winds swept across the land, clouds gathered overhead, leaves fell from the trees, and the sea roared against the shore. Far away, ships struggled against the violent waves.
Terrified, he called out to the flounder and delivered his wife’s request.
“Go home,” the fish replied. “She is pope already.”
When the fisherman returned, he found what looked like an enormous church surrounded by palaces. Thousands of candles illuminated the interior, where his wife sat on a lofty throne, dressed in gold and wearing three magnificent crowns. Emperors and kings knelt before her, showing her the highest reverence.
“Are you pope now?” the fisherman asked.
“Yes,” she answered.
He stared at her in wonder. Surely, he thought, she had finally reached the highest position she could desire.
“Please, wife,” he said, “let things remain as they are. You cannot become anything greater now.”
But Ilsabil was not satisfied.
That night, the fisherman slept soundly, exhausted from his journeys. His wife, however, tossed and turned, unable to rest. She kept thinking about what else she might become, but no new title came to mind.
At daybreak, she looked through the window and saw the sun rising.
Suddenly, an extraordinary idea struck her.
“Wake up!” she cried, shaking her husband. “Go to the flounder. I want to be like God Himself!”
The fisherman sprang out of bed in alarm.
“What are you saying?” he asked. “The flounder has made you pope. What more could you possibly need? It cannot give you the power of God.”
But his wife would not listen. She insisted that she wanted to command the sun and moon to rise whenever she pleased. Unless she could possess such power, she declared, she would never be happy again.
The fisherman begged her to reconsider. He fell to his knees, pleading with her to remain satisfied with the greatness she had already received.
His pleas only made her angrier.
“Go!” she shouted. “I will not endure this any longer. I want to be like God!”
With no choice, the terrified fisherman rushed outside.
A terrible storm was raging. The wind was so fierce that he could barely stand. Houses and trees toppled, mountains trembled, rocks rolled into the sea, and thunder and lightning filled the darkened sky. Enormous waves, crowned with white foam, rose like mountains and crashed towards the shore.
Struggling against the storm, the fisherman called for the flounder one final time.
He told the enchanted fish that his wife wanted to become like God.
The flounder listened and gave its answer.
“Go home. You will find her back in the dirty hovel.”
The fisherman returned, and there, just as the flounder had said, stood their old, miserable home beside the sea.
Ilsabil had lost the cottage, the castle, the kingdom, the empire and the papacy. Everything she had gained through her endless wishes was gone.
And there, in their little hovel, the fisherman and his wife remain.
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Moral
Be grateful for what you have, because endless greed can cause you to lose everything. Ambition can encourage people to improve their lives, but when no achievement is ever enough, the pursuit of more can destroy the happiness they already possess.
Knowledge Check
1. What did the fisherman catch in the sea?
An enchanted flounder who revealed that he was an enchanted prince.
2. What was Ilsabil’s first wish?
She wanted a small cottage to replace their miserable hovel.
3. Why did the sea become increasingly turbulent?
Its changing condition accompanied the escalating demands and growing tension of the story.
4. What was Ilsabil’s final wish?
She wanted to become like God, with the power to command the sun and moon.
5. How does the story end?
The flounder takes away everything it granted, and the couple return to their original hovel.
6. What is the main lesson of the tale?
Uncontrolled greed and dissatisfaction can lead to the loss of everything one has gained.
Source
Jacob Grimm and Wilhelm Grimm, Grimm’s Household Tales, Volume I, translated by Margaret Hunt. First published in English in 1884. Tale No. 19, “The Fisherman and His Wife” (Von dem Fischer un syner Fru).
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