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Zusatztext "Wonderful . . . This book provides a wealth of delights." — The New York Times Book Review "This handsome book! a feast of good reading! deserves a place in every home where there are children." — John Barkham Reviews “Most of the great human themes! from storytelling itself through love! wisdom! and death are covered in this dazzling collection of tales . . . A delight for all readers.” — Library Journal "Be you storyteller or story reader! this wonderful folktale collection is not to be missed." —Jim Trelease! author of The Read-Aloud Handbook Praise for the Pantheon Fairy Tale and Folklore Library “A splendid folklore series . . . ” — The Washington Post Informationen zum Autor JANE YOLEN is the author of more than three hundred books, including children's fiction, poetry, short stories, graphic novels, fantasy, and science fiction. Her books include Owl Moon, The Devil's Arithmetic, Briar Rose, Sister Emily's Lightship and Other Stories, and How Do Dinosaurs Say Good Night? Honors she has received include the Caldecott Medal, two Nebula Awards, two Christopher Medals, the World Fantasy Award, three Mythopoeic Fantasy Awards, the Golden Kite Award, the National Jewish Book Award, the World Fantasy Association’s Lifetime Achievement Award, and the Association of Jewish Libraries Award. Klappentext From Africa, Burma, and Czechoslovakia to Turkey, Vietnam, and Wales here are more than 150 of the world's best-loved folktales from more than forty countries and cultures. These tales of wonder and transformation, of heroes and heroines, of love lost and won, of ogres and trolls, stories both jocular and cautionary and legends of pure enchantment will delight readers and storytellers of all ages. With black-and-white drawings throughout Part of the Pantheon Fairy Tale and Folklore Library THE MAN WHO HAD NO STORY Ireland Well, there was a man down here is Barr and Ghaoith a long time ago and his name was Brian Ó Braonacháin. The trade that he had was cutting rods, making baskets of them, and selling them in Glenties and in Dunloe and in Fintown and everywhere he could get them sold. But one year he was down here and there wasn’t a single rod in the whole of Barr and Ghaoith that he hadn’t cut, made baskets of, sold, and then spent the money. Those were bad times—the English were in power and they wouldn’t let the Irish earn a single penny in any way. And Brian didn’t know what to do. But in those days there was a little glen outside of Barr and Ghaoith that they called Alt an Torr and there were remarkably fine rods growing there. But nobody dared cut any rods there, for everyone made out that it was a fairy glen. But one morning Brian said to his wife that if she made him up a little lunch he would go out and cut the making of a couple of baskets and perhaps no harm would come to him. The wife got up and made up a lunch for him. He put it in his pocket and he took a hook and a rope under his arm. He went out to the glen and he wasn’t long in the glen until he had cut two fine bundles of rods. When he was tying them together so that he could carry them with the rope on his back, a terrible fog started to gather around him. He decided that he would sit down and eat his lunch and perhaps the fog would clear. He sat down and he ate the lunch he had with him and when he had finished eating it was so dark that he could not see his finger in front of him. He stood up and he got terribly scared. He looked to the east and he looked to the west and he saw a light. Where there is light there must be people, he thought, and he headed for the light. And he tripped and fell the whole time, but in the end he came up to the light. There was a big long house there. The do...
