It’s been too long since I last tweeted about one of my favorite tropes from medieval Arabic lit—sword-wielding statues. So, today let’s discuss murderous statuary, smooth-talking treasure hunters, and a deeply disconcerting encounter with mermaids.
The story I’m sharing comes from Tales of the Marvelous and News of the Strange, which is a bit like the Sharknado 4 of Arabic folktales. There’s little of noble Antar’s poetry or the earnest parables of the 1001 Nights here—these stories are pure pulp, and they are glorious.
I also like Tales of the Marvelous because it’s one of the earliest Arabic story collections (likely put together in the 10th century), and it shows in the details, frequently mentioning the Umayyad caliphs and the earliest Islamic conquests.
There’s a LOT of throwbacks to classical history in the stories, many of which involve people hunting for ancient treasure, and as a historical fantasy writer, I always get a kick out of seeing what are essentially my earlier predecessors spin magical tales about THEIR past.
But anyway, onto to death-dealing statues! This tale begins as many do, with A Bored King who can’t sleep and must be entertained.
So, his people reach out for the restless medieval tyrant’s version of Netflix: checking if there’s anyone witty rotting away in prison or seizing the nearest sailor who might have traveled somewhere interesting. Fun!
Fortunately, there IS someone witty in his prison: a man who’s openly like “Yeah, I’ve made some INCREDIBLY shitty life choices but FOMO, am I right? Carpe diem!"
He tells our bored king four different stories, all of them bonkers, but it’s the second which I’ll relate to you now. The characters inside the tale, refer to their king as “khosrow”, so for you history nerds, our setting is Sasanian Persia in the sixth/seventh century.
So, one day Khosrow is chilling in his court, maybe taking a break from spreading that weird Indian game with the checkered board and warring with the Byzantines. He gets news that a strange traveler would like to see him.
Strange traveler is named Sa’ada, son of al Malik al Akhdar, and quite frankly is one sketchy dude. He greets Khosrow with a big grin and is all “Oh, Shah of shahs, have I got the business opportunity for you!”
You see Sa’ada has just been traveling in the Indian Ocean where he apparently came upon a giant cave of treasure belonging to Shaddad bin ‘Ad*, a legendarily wealthy king and conqueror from ancient times.
(*Shaddad shows up frequently in these tales and also in the Qur’an where he is associated with ruling Iram of the Pillars, a lost Arabian city that’s um… not in the Indian Ocean, but you go on, Sa’ada)
Now Sa’ada was all ready to dig out the treasure but he’s only one man, you see, and needs help. Help that Khosrow can provide in the form of money, men and material support. And then they can totally split the treasure!
Now I’ve gotten that email too, Khosrow, but I didn’t give it my password and bank routing number. But Khosrow is intrigued, and there’s nothing more reckless than an intrigued king after treasure. So, he gives Sa’ada a hundred men, tools, and a ship, and off they go. 
They sail for three months before they reach an island. A beautiful island, with fine fruit and sweet springs and fragrant glens of shade trees and also ELEPHANT-SIZED BIRDS WITH WINGS THAT SPAN THE HORIZON.
Giant Bird promptly seizes two of the men in its talons and takes off. Our travelers are terrified. They didn’t sign up to be snacks! They bicker about whether or not to leave, then decide to stay the night, figuring Giant Bird *probably* won’t come back right away.
They start to settle down for the night when suddenly from the dark sea comes the sound of clapping and whispers. EVERYBODY RUN!
But hey, it isn’t monsters that emerge from the waves, it’s mermaids! And rather fetching ones, who are all smiles for our suddenly thirsty sailors.
They pass the night in “the most pleasant and delightful” of ways, discovering the only difference between human and mermaids is that their skin has the roughness of shells.
Which considering…um, ”the most delightful of acts” seems like it would be a little…unpleasant. And possibly abrasive. But we won’t go there. Ramadan is next week and this was already the least risque tale I could find.
Anyway, dawn comes, the mermaids giggle and dash back into the sea and our travelers remember “Oh, right, giant man-eating bird!” and book it back to the ship. They sail for a month on water that boils like it’s in a cauldron.
It’s also full of enormous sea monsters that must be periodically frightened off with drums and trumpets so I think it’s fair to assume quite a few people are questioning their life choices at this point.
They come upon another island, one that shines like white camphor from a distance. This one has even BETTER fruit—sweeter than honey and softer than butter. And no giant man-eating birds, so things are looking up. This is also apparently the island Sa’ada is after.
He assures them everything is completely safe, he TOTALLY knows what he’s doing, and then they all promptly get lost in a thicket. But after a little panicking, Sa’ada and his crew find the cave and get to work trying to dig past the giant rock blocking the cave’s entrance.
They get the entrance clear, and Sa’ada suggests they pick lots to determine who goes in first. Not that it’s DANGEROUS or anything. God forbid! Remember, he totally knows what he’s doing. He just, er, doesn’t want to go first. For reasons.
The task falls to a young man said to be the most courageous. He steps into the cave entrance and BAM! A lion statue jumps out and seizes him with its steel teeth. Before this poor dude can even let out a second scream, he’s dead, and the lion statue hurls his body down a well.
Our travelers:
Sa'ada:
So, the rest of the men are rightfully like “WTF, Sa’ada?! W.T.F.” And this sketchy man has the nerve to be all “Anyone in pursuit of a great quest must be willing to take a little risk.” Just you know, not him.
But he figures out a way to dig out the ground behind the lion statue (he literally whips out a book, because it isn’t a medieval Arabic adventure until someone pulls out their random magical instruction booklet at the most convenient time).
The group succeeds in knocking the lion statue down the well. They go back to the cave’s entrance, which is basically a lightless void stretching into the distance. This time, they make Sa’ada go first.
They travel through this pitch-black passage until it come to a locked iron door. Sa’ada strikes the lock, opens the door and before them stretches a single flight of stairs. And at the bottom of the stairs is a single statue lying face down in the dust.
Sa’ada: “Time to pick lots again!”
Which they do! So, our unfortunate winner (definitely not Sa’ada) put his foot on the first step…
And the statue sits up.
And the statue sits up.
Our man takes a second step…and the statue picks up a sword laying in the dirt next to it.
Dude takes a third step (WHY??? ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES! THAT ARE RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU!) and the statue—now armed—stands up.
This man takes a FOURTH step, and the statue spins on a damn ancient spiral spring and cuts this redshirt’s head right off.
Our group:
Sa’ada, clearing throat nervously, “Don’t be afraid. Because um, you know, if a man’s time is up, it matters not if he dies in his bed or on a quest.”
Astonishingly enough, this little speech convinces them not to throttle Sa’ada. But this time, he’s going down the stairs. He brings a plank of wood with him, and when the statue attacks, its sword gets stuck in the wood and everyone’s able to scurry through another door.
They come upon an extraordinary sight: a beautiful meadow with trees in full leaf, pools lined in gold, water gushing from fountains shaped like birds, and more statues—but singing ones, not death-dealing ones.
Beside the river is a grand palace, adorned with pearls and a locked door of red-gold. And a corpse. Hey, it’s Shaddad! Wearing a snazzy shroud and chilling (hah! Get it? Because he’s dead!) on a silver couch. Just above his head is a green topaz tablet that reads the following:
“I am Shaddad the great. I conquered a thousand cities; a thousand white elephants were collected for me; I lived for a thousand years and my kingdom covered east and west, but when death came for me nothing of all that I had gathered was of any avail. Take heed!"
If this sounds familiar to the “City of Brass” in the 1001 Nights (which I talked about below), yes.
But whereas the 1001 Nights uses Shaddad to explain for the 8,134,875th time that “life is an allusion and wealth with not save you!” Tales of the Marvelous ain’t got the time for that. Not when there’s TREASURE!
But TREASURE is very much behind a locked door. Which only opens once a year. So, our travelers hang around for a few months, eating tasty fruit and—presumably—staying the hell away from any and all statues.
Finally one day, a great tremor shakes the earth, the palace doors swing open, and the treasure is free and available to be looted. Disappointingly, there’s little description of said treasure, but I’ve read enough stories to fill in the details, so…
Chests overflowing with silver and golden coins! Strands of pearls the length of a glorious maiden’s tresses! Emeralds and rubies and lapis and worked ornaments whose beauty would make the eye weep! Garments of silk and fine brocade! ALL of the aloes and aromatic woods!
Our travelers take everything they can carry, including Shaddad’s funerary tablet which seems a little messed up. They sail back on a favorable wind, witnessing yet more marvels of the sea and beasts of many teeth.
They arrive safely in Hilla, Khosrow sends an entire caravan to guide them back, and everyone is the best of super-rich friends until death separates them. During which, I guess we find out if Shaddad's warning was correct.
Thus ends this tale. It’s bookmarked by equally ridiculous accounts with even deadlier statues. And why not! Think about the world in which these stories were told and the environment in which people lived.
Imagine coming upon THESE in the wilderness. Personally, I think it makes for a better creepy tale than “Ooo, Harry, let’s put it in the garden and surround it with a hedge maze!”
People in the medieval era were no less fascinated with history than we are today—and they spun equally fantastic stories around the past. Adventurous tales of lost treasure—and people dedicated to finding it—were incredibly popular.
As of course, were scholars and sheikhs annoyed and dismayed by the whole thing.
Anyway, that’s my thread, and I hope you enjoyed it. If you have a couple extra $$ and feel like doing some good in the spirit of Mother’s Day this weekend, consider checking out the below. brooklynbailfund.org/national-bail-…
Now go side-eye a statue today.
