Friday
by W. R. S. Ralston · from Russian Folk Tales
Original Story
Friday
FRIDAY.[253]
There was once a certain woman who did not pay due reverence
to Mother Friday, but set to work on a distaff-ful of flax,
combing and whirling it. She span away till dinner-time, then
suddenly sleep fell upon her--such a deep sleep! And when
she had gone to sleep, suddenly the door opened and in came
Mother Friday, before the eyes of all who were there, clad in a
white dress, and in such a rage! And she went straight up to
the woman who had been spinning, scooped up from the floor a
handful of the dust that had fallen out of the flax, and began stuffing
and stuffing that woman's eyes full of it! And when she had
stuffed them full, she went off in a rage--disappeared without
saying a word.
When the woman awoke, she began squalling at the top of
her voice about her eyes, but couldn't tell what was the matter
with them. The other women, who had been terribly frightened,
began to cry out:
"Oh, you wretch, you! you've brought a terrible punishment
on yourself from Mother Friday."
Then they told her all that had taken place. She listened to
it all, and then began imploringly:
"Mother Friday, forgive me! pardon me, the guilty one!
I'll offer thee a taper, and I'll never let friend or foe dishonor
thee, Mother!"
Well, what do you think? During the night, back came
Mother Friday and took the dust out of that woman's eyes, so
that she was able to get about again. It's a great sin to dishonor
Mother Friday--combing and spinning flax, forsooth!
Very similar to this story is that about Wednesday which follows.
Wednesday, the day consecrated to Odin, the eve of the day sacred to
the Thundergod,[254] may also have been held holy by the heathen
Slavonians, but to some commentators it appears more likely that the
traditions now attached to it in Russia became transferred to it from
Friday in Christian times--Wednesday and Friday having been associated
by the Church as days sacred to the memory of Our Lord's passion and
death. The Russian name for the day, Sereda or Sreda, means "the
middle," Wednesday being the middle of the working week.
Story DNA
Moral
Disrespecting sacred days or traditions can lead to severe consequences, but sincere repentance may bring forgiveness.
Plot Summary
A woman disrespects Mother Friday by spinning flax on the sacred day. While she sleeps, Mother Friday appears in a rage and blinds her by stuffing dust into her eyes. Upon waking, the woman is in agony and learns from others that she has been punished. She sincerely repents, promising reverence, and Mother Friday returns that night to restore her sight, reinforcing the importance of honoring sacred traditions.
Themes
Emotional Arc
disrespect to suffering to repentance to relief
Writing Style
Narrative Elements
Cultural Context
The story reflects pre-Christian Slavic beliefs, possibly syncretized with Christian traditions where Friday is a sacred day (associated with Christ's passion). The personification of days as 'Mother Friday' is a common motif in Slavic folklore.
Plot Beats (9)
- A woman works on Friday, disrespecting Mother Friday, by spinning flax.
- She falls into a deep sleep.
- Mother Friday appears, enraged, and stuffs dust from the flax into the sleeping woman's eyes.
- Mother Friday vanishes.
- The woman awakens, screaming in pain and unable to see.
- Other women explain that she has been punished by Mother Friday for her disrespect.
- The woman repents, begging Mother Friday for forgiveness and promising future reverence.
- Mother Friday returns that night and removes the dust from the woman's eyes, restoring her sight.
- The narrator concludes by stating it is a great sin to dishonor Mother Friday.
Characters
Mother Friday ⚔ antagonist
Appears suddenly and disappears without a word.
Attire: A white dress, suggesting purity or a spiritual nature.
Strict, vengeful, powerful, merciful (after repentance).
Image Prompt & Upload
A stern, gaunt woman in her late 50s with sharp cheekbones, a severe bun of iron-grey hair, and cold, pale eyes. She wears a high-collared, severe black dress under a heavy, dark wool cloak. Her posture is rigid and commanding, one hand gripping a twisted wooden staff, the other resting on her hip. Her expression is a tight-lipped, disapproving frown. She stands in a dimly lit hut with shelves of strange jars, a bubbling cauldron casting an eerie green glow. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Woman ★ protagonist
Her eyes are filled with dust by Mother Friday.
Attire: Likely peasant clothing, suitable for spinning flax.
Disrespectful, defiant, remorseful, imploring.
Image Prompt & Upload
A young woman in her late teens with a kind, determined expression and warm brown eyes. She has long, chestnut hair braided simply over one shoulder. She wears a practical, faded blue dress with a white apron, sturdy leather boots, and a small satchel slung across her body. She stands tall with a calm, resolute posture, one hand resting gently on a woven basket she carries. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Other Women ◆ supporting
Present during Mother Friday's appearance.
Attire: Likely peasant clothing, appropriate for the setting.
Frightened, judgmental, observant.
Image Prompt & Upload
A mysterious woman in her late twenties with pale skin, dark hair swept into an elegant updo, and sharp, observant eyes. She wears a high-collared, midnight-blue velvet gown with intricate silver embroidery along the sleeves and hem. Her posture is poised and slightly aloof, one hand resting gently on a tall, ornate wooden chair. Her expression is calm yet unreadable, with a faint, knowing smile. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Locations
The Woman's Home
An interior space where a woman is spinning flax. The floor accumulates dust from the flax.
Mood: Initially industrious, then suddenly eerie and tense due to the supernatural intervention.
The woman spins flax, falls asleep, and Mother Friday appears to punish her by stuffing her eyes with flax dust.
Image Prompt & Upload
Late afternoon light slants through a small, grimy window in a low-ceilinged room, illuminating swirling dust motes and the fine, pale fibers of flax scattered across a worn stone floor. The air is thick with a golden haze. A simple wooden spinning wheel sits empty beside a rough-hewn stool. The walls are dark, aged timber and rough plaster. Through the window, a distant view of a stormy, grey-blue sky over a dark forest is visible. The atmosphere is quiet, still, and heavy with the scent of old wood and plant matter. No border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
