Peasant Superstitions of Northern Komaru

It has long been theorized that the peasantry of our land carry within them lost wisdom of the ages. In this researcher's opinion, this theory carries little weight. Take, for example, the superstitions entertained by the Komaran peasantry of the northern region.

In recent years, a growing number of the peasantry attribute miraculous cures and unexpectedly good harvests to the statue of Faust Yuasa that resides in Komaru City. Mothers make pilgrimages to the capital to lay their newborn children at the feet of the idol, some enacting a parody of the physician's rite, in a feeble mockery of their betters. Families pray to the statue for healing, succor and, prosaically enough, for food. Young lovers whisper their names into the statue's ear, believing it will intercede for them with angry parents or disapproving masters.

Like most peasant superstitions, the worship of Faust Yuasa's statue is entirely illogical. Though many respect the Yuasan Lord upon whom the statue is modeled, the miraculous effects, the claim, come only from the statue, not the personage himself. Though the peasantry is aware that the statue was erected in response to Lord Faust's generous donation of food, they do not believe, as some claim, that he had anything to do with the recent distribution of grain while harvests rotted in granaries blockaded by the Touraine.

The peasants this researcher spoke with told similar, yet conflicting stories of how the statue of Faust Yuasa descended from his pedestal and traveled across the length of Komaru in a single evening, the decorative cornucopia he carries spilling forth ripe fruit and wholesome grain to those in need. Discounting the impossibility of a walking statue, how could anyone travel to each and every little village and hamlet in a single evening?

The story this scholar heard defies all logic and makes little narrative sense, except to those who still believe in the stories our nurses told us in childhood. This scholar still remembers his nurse's tales of a giant meat bun that brought birthday gifts to good children. Still, this researcher is amused by the recent appearance of women's robes on the dignified statue of the elder Yuasan after his defeat at the hands of the Aten. One wonders if such expressions of public displeasure with the head of the Yuasa council might eventually blunt the native fervor. Unfortunately, in this researcher's experience, neither reasoned argument nor ludicrous display is sufficient to convince the typical peasant that their beliefs are insubstantial and no more useful than clothing on an unfeeling statue.