Collected Folk Tales. Alan Garner

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      Dedication

      For Sam

      Contents

      Title Page

      Dedication

      Prayer

      Introduction

      Gobbleknoll

      Shick-Shack

      Vukub-Cakix

      Tops or Bottoms

      The Voyage of Maelduin

      The Fort of Rathangan

      Willow

      Maggoty’s Wood

      Edward Frank and the Friendly Cow

      Yallery Brown

      Moowis

      The Lady of the Wood

      A Voice Speaks from the Well

      Bash Tchelik

      Iram, Biram

      The Goblin Spider

      To the Tengu Goblins and other Demons

      The Secret Commonwealth

      The Piper of Shacklow

      The Adventures of Nera

      The Green Mound

      A Letter

      Halloween

      Great Head and the Ten Brothers

      Faithful John

      The Trade that No One Knows

      Jack and his Golden Snuff-Box

      A Charm against Witches

      Tarn Wethelan

      Mist

      Asrai

      Hoichi the Earless

      The Breadhorse

      Ramayana

      The Island of the Strong Door

      The Smoker

      R. I. P.

      Wild Worms and Swooning Shadows

      Assipattle and the Mester Stoorworm

      The Barguest of Nidderdale

      Loki

      Baldur the Bright

      The Flying Childer

      Father, Wait for Me

      Glooskap

      The Wonderful Wood

      Wae’s Me

      The Green Mist

      Other Books by Alan Garner

      Copyright

      About the Publisher

      Prayer

      Graunt that no Hobgoblins fright me,

       No hungrie devils rise up and bite me;

       No Urchins, Elves, or drunkards Ghoasts

       Shove me against walles or postes.

       O graunt I may no black thing touch.

       Though many men love to meet such.

      John Day

      1604

      Introduction

      “Believe the fairy tales. What were the fairy tales, they will come true.”

      That is a common beginning to Russian stories, and it is a wise one. We have always tried to make sense of the natural forces in the world and of the hidden forces in ourselves. Sometimes we give them shapes as gods and devils and spirits; sometimes we make them into animals; sometimes we subject them to rules, which we call magic. And I would call much of magic “the science we have not discovered yet”.

      Four hundred years ago, a man could write in England: “Our mothers maids have so terrified us with an ouglie divell having hornes on his head, fier in his mouth, and a taile in his breache, eies like a bason, fanges like a dog, claws like a beare, and a voice roring like a lion, whereby we start and are afraid when we hear one cry Bough; and they have so fraied us with bull beggers, spirits, witches, urchins, elves, hags, fairies, satyrs, pans, faunes, syleens, kit with the cansticke, tritons, centaures, dwarfes, giants, imps, calcars, conjurers, nymphes, changelings, Incubus, Robin good-fellowe, the spoorne, the mare, the man in the oke, the hell waine, the firedrake, the puckle, Tom thombe, hob goblin, Tom tumbler, boneles, and such other bugs, that we are afraid of our own shadows.”

      Little has changed since then. We may have lost our faith in the terror of the cornfield and the greenwood, but we still need terror. Boneles and such other bugs now ride flying saucers, and it is in the galaxy, not the churchyard, that menace lies.

      We need to be scared. It is healthy and good for us. But not all traditional stories are about confronting fear. They can show us our humanity and convey a sense of the numinous.

      Traditional stories may be myth, legend, fairy tale or folk tale. Each of these terms has a different and technical meaning; but this book is not technical. It is for anyone that loves a story, whether the story be anecdote or epic.

      I believe that story is, at root, universal; though it changes with, and benefits from, its cultural trappings. To test this I have taken some stories out of their context and put them into the words of my own family, especially into the words of my grandfather, Joseph Garner, who was a smith. In a village the glow of the dark smithy is, or was, a place of mystery, a boundary between worlds. What was spoken round the anvil was not spoken in the street. So, having selected and compared written texts, I took some of them back to my childhood and said: Please, Grandad, tell me this story. And I listened, and wrote what he told me. I did it for more than one reason.

      Folk tales once belonged to everyone, though not everyone was qualified to tell them, and it is a comparatively recent assumption that they are for children only.

      In this selection I have tried to get back, through the written word, a sense of the spoken. These stories, even the most formal, are СКАЧАТЬ