Aí o leão, né̀?, o que é que ele fez? Ficô alegre, né? Fez a barba, tomô o banho, né? e comeşô a arrumá namorada, e com isso casô. Pronto... ${ }^{3}$  
The narratives are distanced at times, at least at first glance, not so much by the transformation of the characters as by the insertion of the episodes; but if we listen more closely, they are brought back together. For example, a closer observation of the Bantu versions of the series of the woman who wanted fish - which I am considering here as the hypotext of the Brazilian João Jiló series - reveals the presence of a cultural prohibition of the consumption of fish by pregnant women: ' $\grave{A}$ mulher grávida está interditado comer peixes silurídeos ngwingi e kakusu' (Coelho, 1991, p. 4). It is interesting to note that it is still possible to find rural communities in Brazil in which pregnant women are not allowed to eat fish classified as remoso, that is, without scales. 'There are several reasons for this prohibition', as the Angolan researcher Virgílio Coelho explains: 'Firstly, it is said that this prescription serves to avoid the birth of a disabled child and, above all, to prevent miscarriage. Guarding against death during childbirth is another frequently cited reason'(Coelho, 1991, p.4). In the Bantu series of the woman who wanted fish, the protagonist's overwhelming desire, attended to by her husband, leads her to go against the prohibition. 'The effects of the transgression are very evident,' as Virgílio Coelho explains, 'in the myth's general epilogue, which shows just how this "spirit" pierces the woman's body, a fact that can be interpreted as the consequence of miscarriage' (Coelho, 1991, p. 4).