Celtic ​Fairy Tales 1 csillagozás

Joseph Jacobs: Celtic Fairy Tales Joseph Jacobs: Celtic Fairy Tales Joseph Jacobs: Celtic Fairy Tales Joseph Jacobs: Celtic Fairy Tales Joseph Jacobs: Celtic Fairy Tales

Joseph Jacobs collected these fairy stories in the closing days of the nineteenth century. They are engaging brief episodes of fancy and fantasy from the oral tradition, which were designed to engage and fascinate the young mind. In this fast-paced, electronic world where life whizzes and fizzes by, it is a comfort and joy to pause awhile to savour such delights from a simpler and less pressured age. Reading one of these stories is the literary equivalent of stepping into the quiet and majesty of a medieval church or a circle of standing stones. In the twenty-first century there is a renewed appetite for magic, fairies, and fantastic worlds. With Celtic Fairy Tales, we are not only entertained but can also feel the gentle spiritual hand of history resting on our shoulders.

Eredeti megjelenés éve: 1891

Tartalomjegyzék

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CreateSpace, Washington, 2012
136 oldal · ISBN: 9781470179830
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246 oldal · ISBN: 9781907360183
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Lomond Books, 2003
234 oldal · puhatáblás · ISBN: 9781842040164

3 további kiadás


Várólistára tette 5

Kívánságlistára tette 3


Népszerű idézetek

Arianrhod>!

Then he said, ‘Where art thou, ring?’ And the ring said, ‘I am here.’ The brute went and went towards where the ring was speaking, and now I saw that I was in a harder case than ever I was. I drew a dirk. I cut the finger from off me, and I threw it from me as far as I could out on the loch, and there was a great depth in the place. He shouted, ‘Where art thou, ring?’ And the ring said, ‘I am here,’ though it was on the bed of ocean. He gave a spring after the ring, and out he went in the sea. And I was as pleased then when I saw him drowning, as though you should grant my own life and the life of my two sons with me, and not lay any more trouble on me.

Conall Yellowclaw

Arianrhod>!

“Go where you will;” said the captain, “and as fast as you please if you’ll only go far enough. It’s trouble enough you’ve given us already.”

“Now you’re reasonable,” said the beggarman; “and since you’ve given up trying to hang a stranger because he finds fault with your music, I don’t mind telling you that if you go back to the gallows you’ll find your friends sitting on the sward none the worse for what has happened.”

As he said these words he vanished; and the storyteller found himself on the spot where they first met, and where his wife still was with the carriage and horses.

The StoryTeller at Fault

Arianrhod>!

“And now I was sure I would scald before I could get out of that. As fortune favoured me, the brute slept beside the cauldron. There I was scalded by the bottom of the cauldron. When she perceived that he was asleep, she set her mouth quietly to the hole that was in the lid, and she said to me ‘was I alive?’ I said I was. I put up my head, and the hole in the lid was so large, that my head went through easily. Everything was coming easily with me till I began to bring up my hips. I left the skin of my hips behind me, but I came out. When I got out of the caldron I knew not what to do; and she said to me that there was no weapon that would kill him but his own weapon. I began to draw his spear and every breath that he drew I thought I would be down his throat, and when his breath came out I was back again just as far. But with every ill that befell me I got the spear loosed from him. Then I was as one under a bundle of straw in a great wind for I could not manage the spear. And it was fearful to look on the brute, who had but one eye in the midst of his face; and it was not agreeable for the like of me to attack him. I drew the dart as best I could, and I set it in his eye. When he felt this he gave his head a lift, and he struck the other end of the dart on the top of the cave, and it went through to the back of his head. And he fell cold dead where he was; and you may be sure, oh king, that joy was on me.

Conall Yellowclaw

Arianrhod>!

A crow went flying by him, over his head. “Daub! daub!” said the crow. “My blessings on ye, then,” said Munachar, “but it’s the good advice you have,” and he took the red clay and the daub that was by the brink, and he rubbed it to the bottom of the sieve, until all the holes were filled, and then the sieve held the water, and he brought the water to the miller, and the miller gave him the makings of a cake, and he gave the makings of the cake to the threshers, and the threshers gave him a whisp of straw, and he gave the whisp of Straw to the cow, and the cow gave him milk, the milk he gave to the cat, the cat scraped the butter, the butter went into the claw of the hound, the hound hunted the deer, the deer swam the water, the water wet the flag, the flag sharpened the axe, the axe cut the rod, and the rod made a gad, and when he had it ready to hang Manachar he found that Manachar had BURST.

Munachar and Manachar

1 hozzászólás
Arianrhod>!

Kay had this peculiarity, that his breath lasted nine nights and nine days under water, and he could exist nine nights and nine days without sleep. A wound from Kay’s sword no physician could heal. Very subtle was Kay. When it pleased him he could render himself as tall as the highest tree in the forest. And he had another peculiarity-so great was the heat of his nature, that, when it rained hardest, whatever he carried remained dry for a handbreadth above and a handbreath below his hand; and when his companions were coldest, it was to them as fuel with which to light their fire.

The Wooing of Olwen

Arianrhod>!

And Arthur called Bedwyr, who never shrank from any enterprise upon which Kay was bound. None was equal to him in swiftness throughout this island except Arthur and Drych Ail Kibthar. And although he was one-handed, three warriors could not shed blood faster than he on the field of battle. Another property he had; his lance would produce a wound equal to those of nine opposing lances.

The Wooing of Olwen

1 hozzászólás
Arianrhod>!

Four white trefoils sprang up wherever she trod, and therefore was she called Olwen.

The Wooing of Olwen

1 hozzászólás
Arianrhod>!

“Raise up the forks beneath my two eyebrows which have fallen over my eyes,” said Yspathaden Penkawr, “that I may see the fashion of my son-in-law.”

They did so, and he promised them an answer on the morrow. But as they were going forth, Yspathaden seized one of the three poisoned darts that lay beside him and threw it back after them.

And Bedwyr caught it and flung it back, wounding Yspathaden in the knee.

The Wooing of Olwen

Arianrhod>!

Then said he, “A cursed ungentle son-in-law, truly. I shall ever walk the worse for his rudeness. This poisoned iron pains me like the bite of a gad-fly. Cursed be the smith who forged it, and the anvil whereon it was wrought.”

The Wooing of Olwen

1 hozzászólás
Arianrhod>!

But Kilbuch caught it and threw it vigorously, and wounded him through the eyeball, so that the dart came out at the back of his head.

“A cursed ungentle son-in-law, truly. As long as I remain alive my eyesight will be the worse. Whenever I go against the wind my eyes will water, and peradventure my head will burn, and I shall have a giddiness every new moon. Cursed be the fire in which it was forged. Like the bite of a mad dog is the stroke of this poisoned iron.”

The Wooing of Olwen


Hasonló könyvek címkék alapján

Kate Forrester: Celtic Tales
William Butler Yeats (szerk.): Fairy and Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry
Augusta Gregory: Gods and Fighting Men
Csenge Virág Zalka: Tales of Superhuman Powers
Fiona Collins: North Wales Folk Tales for Children
Gordon Jarvie (szerk.): Irish folk and fairy tales
Joe Neil MacNeil – John Shaw (szerk.): Tales until dawn
Donald A. Mackenzie: Wonder Tales from Scottish Myth and Legend
Lisa Schneidau: Woodland Folk Tales of Britain and Ireland
Elisabeth Howden (szerk.): The blacksmith and the fairies and other scottish folk tales