In ​the Forests of Serre 2 csillagozás

Patricia A. McKillip: In the Forests of Serre

Vigyázat! Cselekményleírást tartalmaz.

In ​the magical forests of Serre lives a witch named Brume, the Mother of All Witches, an ugly, dangerous hag that everyone – and every living thing – avoids at all costs. Infamous for her knobby, callused feet that broaden to inhuman size when she picks up her house of bones and carries it, she is said to stew and devour anyone who enters the skeletal cottage.
When Prince Ronan, grief-stricken over the recent death of his wife and newborn child, accidentally tramples one of Brume's white hens with his horse, she lays a curse on him. Ronan will wander aimlessly through the forests for eternity until he captures a firebird, a breathtakingly beautiful creature indigenous to Serre, and returns it to Brume in a golden cage. But Ronan must find his way home as soon as possible. Sidonie, the youngest daughter of the King of Dacia, is betrothed to Ronan and awaiting his return. If Ronan doesn't come back, the innocent girl will be trapped in his evil warlord father's fortress… (tovább)

Eredeti megjelenés éve: 2003

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Embrace Books, USA, 2004
296 oldal · ISBN: 0441010113

Enciklopédia 1

Szereplők népszerűség szerint

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Kedvencelte 1

Várólistára tette 1


Kiemelt értékelések

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Molu
Patricia A. McKillip: In the Forests of Serre

This is a fairytale, it is told slowly with elegant style. There is not much development. The adventures happen in the Serre forest mostly. Some elements in the tale are recognizable from other fairytales, others are unique and one wonders while trying to imagine them. Although some subjects explored are serious, like loss of the loved one, grief, relationships between husband and wife and between parents and children, loyalty, duty, power and so on, the way in which it is portrayed is light, there is even humor in it in the portrayal of the old witch. This story has a character, it does have a touch of wonder.


Népszerű idézetek

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Arianrhod MP

Some days you battle yourself and other monsters. Some days you just make soup.

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Arianrhod MP

Euan, struggling to pick through a lifetime of marvels, managed only the simplest. “That witch—Brume. Does she really eat people?”
Unciel’s face smoothed; he gazed back, unblinking, at something beyond pain. “Brume,” he murmured. “Never underestimate the power of a tale. What you put aside as fantasy in one land can kill you in the next. As far as I know, she eats anything. Like death, she is always hungry and too much is never enough. Like love.”

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Arianrhod MP

The princess’s face lost some of its burnished color. “I thought you said there was little sorcery.”
“In its rulers. The land itself has peculiar powers; they are unpredictable and not always safe. You never know, in Serre, when and where a tale will become true.”

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Arianrhod MP

Fyriol, he learned that afternoon, was a hot, parched land whose fierce winds laid bare the bones of hills and sculpted them into high, eerie shapes of colored sand and granite. Dragons had once lived there, tales said, and had left the land unfit for human occupation. But the seventh son of a king who was also a seventh son had gone looking for a land of his own to rule, and had claimed Fyriol.

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