Norse popular tales E-Book

G. W. Dasent

• Herausgeber: G. W. Dasent
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015

Beschreibung

The most careless reader can hardly fail to see that many of the Tales in this volume have the same groundwork as those with which he has been familiar from his earliest youth. They are Nursery Tales, in fact, of the days when there were tales in nurseries—old wives' fables, which have faded away before the light of gas and the power of steam. It is long, indeed, since English nurses told these tales to English children by force of memory and word of mouth. In a written shape, we have long had some of them, at least, in English versions of the Contes de ma Mère l' Oye of Perrault, and the Contes de Fées of Madame D'Aulnoy; those tight-laced, high- heeled tales of the 'teacup times' of Louis XIV and his successors, in which the popular tale appears to as much disadvantage as an artless country girl in the stifling atmosphere of a London theatre. From these foreign sources, after the voice of the English reciter was hushed—and it was hushed in England more than a century ago—our great-grandmothers learnt to tell of Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast, of Little Red Riding-hood and Blue Beard, mingled together in the Cabinet des Fées with Sinbad the Sailor and Aladdin's wondrous lamp; for that was an uncritical age, and its spirit breathed hot and cold, east and west, from all quarters of the globe at once, confusing the traditions and tales of all times and countries into one incongruous mass of fable, as much tangled and knotted as that famous pound of flax which the lassie in one of these Tales is expected to spin into an even wool within four-and-twenty hours.

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Table of contents

INTRODUCTION

TALES FROM THE NORSE

WHY THE SEA IS SALT

THE OLD DAME AND HER HEN

EAST O' THE SUN AND WEST O' THE MOON

BOOTS WHO ATE A MATCH WITH THE TROLL

HACON GRIZZLEBEARD

BOOTS, WHO MADE THE PRINCESS SAY, 'THAT'S A STORY'

THE TWELVE WILD DUCKS

THE GIANT WHO HAD NO HEART IN HIS BODY

THE FOX AS HERDSMAN

THE MASTERMAID

THE CAT ON THE DOVREFELL

PRINCESS ON THE GLASS HILL

THE COCK AND HEN

HOW ONE WENT OUT TO WOO

THE MASTER-SMITH

THE TWO STEP-SISTERS

BUTTERCUP

TAMING THE SHREW

SHORTSHANKS

GUDBRAND ON THE HILL-SIDE

THE BLUE BELT

WHY THE BEAR IS STUMPY-TAILED

NOT A PIN TO CHOOSE BETWEEN THEM

ONE'S OWN CHILDREN ARE ALWAYS PRETTIEST

THE THREE PRINCESSES OF WHITELAND

THE LASSIE AND HER GODMOTHER

THE THREE AUNTS

THE COCK, THE CUCKOO, AND THE BLACK-COCK

RICH PETER THE PEDLAR

GERTRUDE'S BIRD

BOOTS AND THE TROLL

GOOSEY GRIZZEL

THE LAD WHO WENT TO THE NORTH WIND

THE MASTER THIEF

THE BEST WISH

THE THREE BILLY-GOATS GRUFF

WELL DONE AND ILL PAID

THE HUSBAND WHO WAS TO MIND THE HOUSE

DAPPLEGRIM

FARMER WEATHERSKY

LORD PETER

THE SEVEN FOALS

THE WIDOW'S SON

BUSHY BRIDE

BOOTS AND HIS BROTHERS

BIG PETER AND LITTLE PETER

TATTERHOOD

THE COCK AND HEN THAT WENT TO THE DOVREFELL

KATIE WOODENCLOAK

THUMBIKIN

DOLL I' THE GRASS

THE LAD AND THE DEIL

THE COCK AND HEN A-NUTTING

THE BIG BIRD DAN

SORIA MORIA CASTLE

BRUIN AND REYNARD

TOM TOTHERHOUSE

LITTLE ANNIE THE GOOSE-GIRL

INTRODUCTION TO APPENDIX

APPENDIX

ANANZI AND THE LION

ANANZI AND QUANQUA

THE EAR OF CORN AND THE TWELVE MEN

THE KING AND THE ANT'S TREE

THE LITTLE CHILD AND THE PUMPKIN TREE

THE BROTHER AND HIS SISTERS

THE GIRL AND THE FISH

THE LION, THE GOAT, AND THE BABOON

ANANZI AND BABOON

THE MAN AND THE DOUKANA TREE

NANCY FAIRY

'THE DANCING GANG'

FOOTNOTES TO INTRODUCTION

INTRODUCTION

ORIGINThe most careless reader can hardly fail to see that many of the Tales in this volume have the same groundwork as those with which he has been familiar from his earliest youth. They are Nursery Tales, in fact, of the days when there were tales in nurseries—old wives' fables, which have faded away before the light of gas and the power of steam. It is long, indeed, since English nurses told these tales to English children by force of memory and word of mouth. In a written shape, we have long had some of them, at least, in English versions of the Contes de ma Mère l' Oye of Perrault, and the Contes de Fées of Madame D'Aulnoy; those tight-laced, high- heeled tales of the 'teacup times' of Louis XIV and his successors, in which the popular tale appears to as much disadvantage as an artless country girl in the stifling atmosphere of a London theatre. From these foreign sources, after the voice of the English reciter was hushed—and it was hushed in England more than a century ago—our great-grandmothers learnt to tell of Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast, of Little Red Riding-hood and Blue Beard, mingled together in the Cabinet des Fées with Sinbad the Sailor and Aladdin's wondrous lamp; for that was an uncritical age, and its spirit breathed hot and cold, east and west, from all quarters of the globe at once, confusing the traditions and tales of all times and countries into one incongruous mass of fable, as much tangled and knotted as that famous pound of flax which the lassie in one of these Tales is expected to spin into an even wool within four-and-twenty hours. No poverty of invention or want of power on the part of translators could entirely destroy the innate beauty of those popular traditions; but here, in England at least, they had almost dwindled out, or at any rate had been lost sight of as home-growths. We had learnt to buy our own children back, disguised in foreign garb; and as for their being anything more than the mere pastime of an idle hour—as to their having any history or science of their own—such an absurdity was never once thought of. It had, indeed, been remarked, even in the eighteenth century—that dreary time of indifference and doubt—that some of the popular traditions of the nations north of the Alps contained striking resemblances and parallels to stories in the classical mythology. But those were the days when Greek and Latin lorded it over the other languages of the earth; and when any such resemblance or analogy was observed, it was commonly supposed that that base-born slave, the vulgar tongue, had dared to make a clumsy copy of something peculiarly belonging to the twin tyrants who ruled all the dialects of the world with a pedant's rod.At last, just at the close of that great war which Western Europe waged against the genius and fortune of the first Napoleon; just as the eagle—Prometheus and the eagle in one shape—was fast fettered by sheer force and strength to his rock in the Atlantic, there arose a man in Central Germany, on the old Thuringian soil, to whom it was given to assert the dignity of vernacular literature, to throw off the yoke of classical tyranny, and to claim for all the dialects of Teutonic speech a right of ancient inheritance and perfect freedom before unsuspected and unknown. It is almost needless to mention this honoured name. For the furtherance of the good work which he began nearly fifty years ago, he still lives and still labours. There is no spot on which an accent of Teutonic speech is uttered where the name of Jacob Grimm is not a 'household word'. His General Grammar of all the Teutonic Dialects from Iceland to England has proved the equality of these tongues with their ancient classical oppressors. His Antiquities of Teutonic Law have shown that the codes of the Lombards, Franks, and Goths were not mere savage, brutal customaries, based, as had been supposed, on the absence of all law and right. His numerous treatises on early German authors have shown that the German poets of the Middle Age, Godfrey of Strasburg, Wolfram von Eschenbach, Hartman von der Aue, Walter von der Vogelweide, and the rest, can hold their own against any contemporary writers in other lands. And lastly, what rather concerns us here, his Teutonic Mythology, his Reynard the Fox, and the collection of German Popular Tales, which he and his brother William published, have thrown a flood of light on the early history of all the branches of our race, and have raised what had come to be looked on as mere nursery fictions and old wives' fables—to a study fit for the energies of grown men, and to all the dignity of a science.In these pages, where we have to run over a vast tract of space, the reader who wishes to learn and not to cavil—and for such alone this introduction is intended—must be content with results rather than processes and steps. To use a homely likeness, he must be satisfied with the soup that is set before him, and not desire to see the bones of the ox out of which it has been boiled. When we say, therefore, that in these latter days the philology and mythology of the East and West have met and kissed each other; that they now go hand and hand; that they lend one another mutual support; that one cannot be understood without the other,—we look to be believed. We do not expect to be put to the proof, how the labours of Grimm and his disciples on this side were first rendered possible by the linguistic discoveries of Anquetil du Perron and others in India and France, at the end of the last century; then materially assisted and furthered by the researches of Sir William Jones, Colebrooke, and others, in India and England during the early part of this century, and finally have become identical with those of Wilson, Bopp, Lassen, and Max Müller, at the present day. The affinity which exists in a mythological and philological point of view between the Aryan or Indo-European languages on the one hand, and the Sanscrit on the other, is now the first article of a literary creed, and the man who denies it puts himself as much beyond the pale of argument as he who, in a religious discussion, should meet a grave divine of the Church of England with the strict contradictory of her first article, and loudly declare his conviction, that there was no God. In a general way, then, we may be permitted to dogmatize, and to lay it down as a law which is always in force, that the first authentic history of a nation is the history of its tongue. We can form no notion of the literature of a country apart from its language, and the consideration of its language necessarily involves the consideration of its history. Here is England, for instance, with a language, and therefore a literature, composed of Celtic, Roman, Saxon, Norse, and Romance elements. Is not this simple fact suggestive of, nay, does it not challenge us to, an inquiry into the origin and history of the races who have passed over our island, and left their mark not only on the soil, but on our speech? Again, to take a wider view, and to rise from archaeology to science, what problem has interested the world in a greater degree than the origin of man, and what toil has not been spent in tracing all races back to their common stock? The science of comparative philology—the inquiry, not into one isolated language—for nowadays it may fairly be said of a man who knows only one language that he knows none—but into all the languages of one family, and thus to reduce them to one common centre, from which they spread like the rays of the sun—if it has not solved, is in a fair way of solving, this problem. When we have done for the various members of each family what has been done of late years for the Indo- European tongues, its solution will be complete. In such an inquiry the history of a race is, in fact, the history of its language, and can be nothing else; for we have to deal with times antecedent to all history, properly so called, and the stream which in later ages may be divided into many branches, now flows in a single channel.