Isaac Asimov (szerk.) · Martin H. Greenberg (szerk.) · Charles G. Waugh (szerk.)

Faeries 1 csillagozás

Isaac Asimov – Martin H. Greenberg – Charles G. Waugh (szerk.): Faeries

Faeries – legends about them abound throughout the world. They are evil creatures conjured up to frighten children. Or they are glittering spirits, blessed with wisdom and magic beyond the understanding of mere mortals. They are the unseen, dwelling in subterranean depths, luscious green meadows, or realms caressed by the night's cool shadows.

A művek szerzői: Thomas Burnett Swann, James Hogg, Ludwig Tieck, John Buchan, Mary E. Wilkins Freeman, Lord Dunsany, Philip K. Dick, Henry Slesar, Isaac Asimov, Andre Norton, Poul Anderson

Tartalomjegyzék

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Roc, 1991
384 oldal · puhatáblás · ISBN: 9780760723692

Várólistára tette 5


Kiemelt értékelések

Arianrhod>!
Isaac Asimov – Martin H. Greenberg – Charles G. Waugh (szerk.): Faeries

Nagyjából és egészében élvezet volt olvasni, több olyan szerzőt ismertem meg, akik műveit azóta be is szereztem, sok olyat, akiről már hallottam, de még nem olvastam tőlük, és most megmenekültem attól, hogy kelljen… Jó, ironizálok, de az biztos, hogy van néhány olyan úr és hölgy, akinek további tevékenységét nem kívánom megismerni. Viszont vannak új kedvencek is, ezért jó egy ilyen antológia, mindenki kedvére válogathat.

Az itt szereplő írások színvonala változó, csak két vagy három olyat találtam, amit nem értek, Asimov hogy válogathatott be. Mert a többi, még a gyöngébbek is, a válogatás főbb szempontjait kielégítik, tündérekről szólnak, vagy arról, miként lát valaki tündéreket a fantáziátlanok szerinti „normális” események mögött. Vannak humoros, és vannak romantikus nézőpontú elbeszélések, majd a kötet utolsó néhány elbeszélése inkább jungiánus archetípusokra mutat, míg a legutolsó novella, Poul Andersoné, ami az egyik legjobb, már valójában inkább sci-fi-kategória.

Újabban fedeztem föl ismét az antológiákat, sok év óta nem olvastam már, de megéri, mert változatos, és többnyire mire megunnád az aktuális témát, már egy másik változatnál tartasz.

Mivel kihívás keretében olvastam, sok novellát hozzászólásban külön is értékeltem, akit érdekel, itt találja: https://moly.hu/karcok/732583


Népszerű idézetek

Arianrhod>!

On the morning of the next day we began our sarch for a place to live. We thraveled from north to south and from ayst to west. Some grew tired and dhropped off in Spain, some in France, and others ag'in in different parts of the world. But the most of us thraveled ever and ever till we came to a lovely island that glimmered and laughed and sparkled in the middle of the say.

Herminie Templeton: HOW THE FAIRIES CAME TO IRELAND

Arianrhod>!

A sacredness clung to the place, a sense of time, like that of a Druidstone which lichen had aged to a muted, mottled orange and which thrust at the stars as if to commune with the min cosmic loneliness. Here, the worshippers of Mithras had bathed themselves in the blood of the sacrificial bull and climbed through the seven stages of initiation to commune with the sun instead of the stars. A nasty pagan rite, said the Abbot, and John had asked him why Jehovah had ordered Abraham to sacrifice Isaac. „It was only a test,” snapped the Abbot.

Thomas Burnett Swann: The Manor of Roses

Arianrhod>!

Already, at twelve, John had begun to ask questions about the Bible, God, Christ, and the Holy Ghost.

To Stephen, religion was feeling and not thought. God was a patriarch with a flowing beard, and angels were almost as real as the dogs in his kennel. With John it was different.

Only the Virgin Mary was not a subject for doubts, arguments, but a beautiful, ageless woman robed in samite, dwelling in the high places of the air or almost at hand, outshining the sun and yet as simple as bread, grass, birds, and Stephen's love; invisible but never unreachable.

Thomas Burnett Swann: The Manor of Roses

Arianrhod>!

"In the morning the battle opened; one line of black angels stretched clear across heaven, and faced another line of white angels, with a walley between.

"Every one had a spaking trumpet in his hand, like you see in the pictures, and they called aich other hard names across the walley. As the white angels couldn't swear or use bad langwidge, Ould Nick's army had at first in that way a great advantage. But when it came to hurling hills and shying tunderbolts at aich other, the black angels were bate from the first.

Herminie Templeton: HOW THE FAIRIES CAME TO IRELAND

Arianrhod>!

Poor little Thaddeus Flynn stood amongst his own, in the dust and the crash and the roar, brave as a lion. He couldn't hurl mountains, nor was he much at flinging lightning bolts, but at calling hard names he was ayquil to the best.

Herminie Templeton: HOW THE FAIRIES CAME TO IRELAND

Arianrhod>!

'A man,' says the Angel Gabriel, 'who, for fear of his skin, won't stand for the right when the right is in danger, may not desarve hell, but he's not fit for heaven. Fill up the stars with these cowards and throw the lavin's into the say,' he ordhered.

With that he swung a lad in the air, and gave him afling that sent him ten miles out intil the sky. Every other good angel follyed shuit, and I watched thousands go, till they faded like a stretch of black smoke a hundred miles below.

Herminie Templeton: HOW THE FAIRIES CAME TO IRELAND

Arianrhod>!

„Since you forbid me, I'll send it,” says the king,chucklin'. „I'll not be ruled by you. To-morrow the Healy's'll have five tinder-hearted heads of cabbage, makin' love in a pot to the finest bit of bacon in Tipperary — that is, unless you do your juty an' ride back to warn them. Raymember their poor sowls,” says he, „an' don't forget your own,” he says.

Herminie Templeton: HOW THE FAIRIES CAME TO IRELAND

Arianrhod>!

„…I suppose it's just something leftover from my outway childhood, but do you know, when I'm under them I can't think of the stars as balls of gas, whose energies have been measured, whose planets have been walked on by prosaic feet. No, they're small and cold and magical; our lives are bound to them; after we die, they whisper to us in our graves.”

Poul Anderson: The Queen of Air and Darkness

Arianrhod>!

You see, it is a time when men are boys, rapacious and cruel, as ready to kill a Jew, a Hungarian, a Greek as an Infidel; happy so long as they wield a sword and claim to serve God. A time when boys who have not yet grown to their fathers' pride – Crusading, it is called — are the only true men.

Thomas Burnett Swann: The Manor of Roses


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