World Tales (where fairytales don't always end happily ever after...) has me looking forward to the potential free time I have at the weekend where I can devour them. "See folk tales, myths and legends from around the world, brought to life by twenty Australian animators." Looks nice so far and also has stories to read.
"On finding your first conker of the season, you should say "Oddly oddly onker my first conker". This ensures good fortune and few tangles throughout the coming season."
Oh for a good game of Conkers.
The hut is sometimes surrounded by a fence made of bones, which helps to keep out intruders. The fence is topped with skulls whose blazing eye sockets illuminate the darkness.
...
Thankfully, she appears to have no power over the pure of heart, such as Vasilisa and those of us who are 'blessed' (protected by the power of love, virtue, or a mother's blessing.)
Baba Yaga rules over the elements. Her faithful servants are the White Horseman, the Red Horseman and the Black Horseman.
When Vasilissa asks her who these mysterious horsemen are, she replies: 'My Bright Dawn, my Red Sun and my Dark Midnight.'
I'm refreshing my knowledge of a certain lady who rides a mortar...
Today I find myself contemplating considering sponsoring the word narrative in the Online Etymology Dictionary...
(For the Record: It is not compensation for my missing telling my story (see below) at the storytelling class this evening. No.)
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#51 - The Black Prince - a story from Egypt
In ancient Egypt, there was a boy who was thought ugly, stupid and lazy. The only thing he cared about was playing his homemade flute. He would play it all day. Even his mother thought that he was worthless.
One day the boy found a beautiful walled garden with a girl sitting by a pool of water. He fell in love with the girl and came every day to sit on the wall and play his feelings for her on his flute. She never looked at him or acknowledged him, but simply sat there day after day by the pool. He dreamed of entering the garden one day and professing his love.
One day he heard some villagers talking about the Princess Thudmos, and they described the garden where she spent her days. The boy realized that he had fallen in love with a princess. He knew a princess would never love a poor boy who was ugly, stupid and lazy. Heartbroken, he wandered all night; at dawn he heard some merchants talking about a powerful magician named Habee.The boy asked them about Habee and was told he could perform any miracle. They told the boy he lived a three-day walk into the desert.
With nothing but his flute, the boy immediately began to walk out into the desert. He walked three days without stopping until he came to an oasis. There he met Habee, the magician, and told him his story. He asked Habee to change him into someone a princess would love...a strong, mighty warrior. Habee told him that he could do that, but warned the boy that once he changed a man's soul, it could not be changed back again.
Habee asked the boy how he would pay for this service. The boy had only his flute and Habee took it. After a few days, the boy's mother assumed he was dead, thought he had fallen into the river or some other foolish thing. She held a funeral.
Three years passed, during which the Pharaoh's enemies attacked him and he lost most of his land and half of his wealth. He was about to surrender, when a handsome, strong man dressed in black came into the Pharaoh's camp. He told the Pharaoh that he was the Black Prince and if the Pharaoh would let him lead the army, he would win back the Pharaoh's lands. In return he asked only to be given his heart's desire. The Pharaoh agreed. Within weeks, the Black Prince accomplished the goal and the Pharaoh was restored to power and wealth.
The Pharaoh was pleased and asked the Black Prince to visit him in his palace in one month. At the appointed time, the Black Prince arrived with much fanfare. Women scattered flowers at his feet and everyone gathered to catch a glimpse of the powerful warrior. When he arrived at the palace, he saw Princess Thudmos seated next to her father. The Pharaoh offered the Black Prince much wealth and power, but the Prince said he only wanted his heart's desire. When the Pharaoh asks what that was, the Prince stated that he would like to marry the Princess.
The Princess stood up, saying that if the Pharaoh commanded it, she would obey, but she warned the Prince that she would never love him, as she had already given her heart to another. She then told of a young boy who sat on her garden wall day after day, playing his flute. His music seemed to touch all the emotions of her heart. She dreamed of the day when he would come into the garden and love her as much as she loved him. But one day, he no longer came. When her servants went into the city to inquire after the flute player, they were told that he had drowned in the river.
The Princess told the Prince and her father that she would never love as deeply again and she had sworn never to marry. The Black Prince told the Princess that he, too, has once loved that deeply and that he would never ask her to marry against her will. He turned and left the palace, never to be seen or heard from again.
"This is quite marvellous!" exclaimed the Caliph. "Now! Let us hear some stories!"
The first story concerned a man and a woman who were very, very sad - for they were poor and stupid and not very beautiful. But a woman did appear to them and she dressed them in new clothes and changed their hairstyles and they were very, very happy.
"Well that's not really much of a story, is it?" said the Caliph.
But then a second story began. And this one was about a man who was very sad, for his house was falling down and his garden was overgrown - for he had no ability to tend it, for a reason that was never explained. And another man did appear to him who conjured forth slaves, and they mended the house and completely redesigned the garden - and the man was very happy.
"It's missing something," remarked the Caliph.
But then a third story began: and this was about some people who prepared a feast - so they did - and guests arrived.
"This is pathetic!" grumbled the Caliph. "This stuff has absolutely no story, it has no meaning, it has no passion - these people can't even act. I am inclined to compare it to wallpaper, which we have recently invented, only I'd say that the wallpaper was actually more interesting!"
The Electric Storyteller by Adam Acidophilus
Tonight I shall watch the Brothers Grimm experience their own stories and then I think I shall renounce the box of electric stories for a time...
I'm looking forward to having the time to go through Tim Sheppard’s Storytelling Resources for Storytellers. One day...
Tonight I am to perform part of a version of The Stonecutter to the storytelling group. Fortuantely, unlike this guy, I am fairly happy with my position in life at the moment.
Except...
I am mildly nervous as I have never tried to tell part of a story as a group activity before (my group collaboration skills are still in need of refining).
Ah Me, Ah Me, If only a group worker I could be.
* Young ladies who feel uneasy should always act on their feelings. If in your good opinion you fear some young man (however handsome, rich, and well-spoken) is some rake, depend upon it: He’s a rake. Rakes will protest that you have them all wrong. They’ll be fibbing. Never go anywhere with a rake, particularly to isolated spots. See above: Doleful Ghost.
* If you are a young lady and someone arrives to tell you that your boyfriend was slain on a foreign battlefield, take it with a grain of salt. Especially if you’re carrying a broken token.
* If a former significant other turns up unexpectedly after a long absence, don’t throw yourself into his/her arms right away.
* That goes double if they refuse to eat anything.
* Triple if they turn up at night and want you to leave with them immediately.
Things I’ve learned from British folk ballads (via the ever-lovely Boynton)
Feed a Student
