Quantcast
Channel: The Art of Pierangelo Boog
Viewing all 756 articles
Browse latest View live

Arthur Rackham's Book of Pictures, Part 1

$
0
0
Arthur Rackham's Book of  Pictures appeared 1913. The following note is found in the book:
A few of the illustrations in this book have been published before in magazines or periodicals; in most cases as first sketches in black and white only. These have since been carried out as pictures, and in that form are reproduced here for the first time. In this connection my thanks are due to the proprietors of the Ladies' Field and the Pall Mall Magazine, I am also much indebted to the owners of several of the pictures who have so kindly allowed me to borrow them for reproduction.   A. R.

Arthur Rackhams Buch der Bilder erscien im Jahre 1913 bei William Heinemann, London. Die folgende Bemerkung des Künstlers ist im Buch vorangestellt: Einige wenige der Illustrationen sind zuvor in Magazinen oder Zeitschriften veröffentlicht worden; in den meisten Fällen nur als schwarz-weisse Skizzen. Diese wurden dann als Bilder ausgeführt und sind in dieser Form hier zum ersten Male zu sehen. In diesem Zusammenhang möchte ich den Besitzern von Ladies' Field und Pall Mall Magazine meinen Dank aussprechen. Ferner bin ich auch den Besitzern mehrerer Bilder zu Dank verplichtet, die so freundlich waren, sie mir zur Reproduktion auszuleihen. A.R.







THE MAGIC CUP


ELVES

SEEKERS FOR TREASURE

GOBLIN THIEVES

BY THE WAY

THE LITTLE PEOPLE'S MARKET

WEE FOLK

MALICE

THE MAN WHO WAS TERRIFIED BY GOBLINS



DANAE


THE DRAGON OF THE HESPERIDEN

DRYAD



JACK THE GIANT KILLER

JACK AND THE BEAN STALK

PUSS IN BOOTS

ADRIFT
 from Andersen's Snow Queen

THE FROG PRINCE

 SANTA CLAUS


MARJORIE AND MARGARET

THE LITTLE PIPER

ON THE BEACH

THE BROAD WALK; KENSINGTON GARDENS
In the Broad Walk, you meet all the people who are worth knowing.
Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens (J.M.Barrie, illustrated by Arthur Rackham)

Daniel Defoe: Kapitän Singleton illustriert von Zdenek Burian

$
0
0
Daniel Defoe was an English trader, writer, journalist, pamphleteer and spy, now most famous for his novel Robinson Crusoe. Daniel Defoe's novel Captain Singleton(1720) is a bipartite adventure story whose first half covers a traversal of Africa, and whose second half taps into the contemporary fascination with piracy. It has been commended for its depiction of the homosexual relationship between the eponymous hero and his religious mentor, the Quaker, William Walters.
The Czech edition with the illustrations by Zdenek Burian was published 1968.





Wir trafen nämlich auf das Wrack eines europäischen Schiffes, das an den Felsen, die hier weit ins Meer hineinliefen, gestrandet war. Wir konnten zur Zeit der Ebbe einen großen Teil des Wracks trocken liegen sehen, und selbst der höchste Wasserstand vermochte es nicht ganz zu verdecken, auch lag es nur etwa eine Stunde vom Gestade ab. Man kann sich denken, daß uns unsere Neugierde veranlaßte, das günstige Wetter zu benutzen und darauf loszusteuern, was denn auch durchaus keine Schwierigkeit hatte.
Unser erstes Geschäft war nun die Zimmerleute mit der Untersuchung des von den Holländern zurückgelassenen Materials zu beauftragen, damit sie das noch brauchbare aussuchten


Sobald sie aber wieder ein wenig zu sich kamen, hob einer, der ziemlich entfernt stand, ein mörderisches Geschrei an, das ein Kriegsruf zu sein schien, denn alle übrigen stimmten ein und rannten nach dem Platze, an dem er stand, während wir, da wir die Bedeutung dieser Bewegung nicht kannten, ruhig blieben und uns wie ein Häuflein Blödsinniger gegenseitig ansahen.


Eines Morgens waren wir Zeugen einer andern Jagd, die uns näher berührte als die vorige, denn unser Häuptling stieß auf einem Spaziergange an dem See auf ein ungeheures Krokodil, das aus dem Wasser heraus auf ihn zukam. Er war schnell auf den Beinen und flüchtete sich, so hurtig er konnte, in unsere Mitte. Aber jetzt wußten wir nicht was anfangen, denn wir hatten gehört, daß keine Kugel den festen Panzer einer solchen Bestie durchdringen konnte, was wir auch insofern bestätigt fanden, daß sich das Tier um drei oder vier Schüsse unserer Leute nicht im mindesten kümmerte. Unser Geschützmeister jedoch, ein kühner, waghalsiger Mann, bewahrte seine Geistesgegenwart, ging so nahe auf den Feind los, daß er ihm die Mündung seines Gewehrs in den Rachen stecken konnte, feuerte ab, und machte sich, indem er die Flinte fallen ließ, aus dem Staube. Das Untier wütete noch lange, ließ seinen Grimm an der Waffe aus, deren Lauf es mit seinen Zähnen zerdrückte, und wurde dann allmählich schwächer, bis es endlich verendete.


Außer diesen trafen wir auch noch einen lebenden edlen alten Löwen, dem die Vordertatzen durchschossen waren, so daß er sich nicht von der Stelle rühren konnte. Er hatte sich die ganze Nacht durch fast bis auf den Tod abgemüht, und wir überzeugten uns nun, daß dieser verwundete Held es gewesen war, der uns die ganze Nacht über mit seinem Geheul beunruhigt hatte.

Als wir ihn vor unserer Windvierung hatten, gingen wir auf ihn los, während er fünf bis sechs Kanonen auf uns abfeuerte. Man kann sich denken, daß in der Zwischenzeit alle unsere Hände sehr geschäftig waren. Wir richteten das Steuer luvwärts, ließen die Leebrassen des größten Mastsegels niedergehen, legten es an den Mast, und so fiel unser Schiff quer in die Klüse des portugiesischen. Sodann gaben wir ihm plötzlich eine volle Ladung, setzten ihm von vorn und hinten zu und töteten ihm eine große Menge Leute.
Die Portugiesen waren, wie wir sehen konnten, in der größten Verwirrung, und da sie unsere Absicht nicht hatten bemerken können, so rannte ihr Bugspriet gegen den vorderen Teil unserer Wand, so daß sie sich nicht leicht wieder losmachen konnten, und wir sie auf diese Art festhielten: der Feind konnte nicht mehr als zwei oder drei Kanonen und sein Kleingewehrfeuer gegen uns brauchen, während wir unsere ganze Batterie gegen ihn spielen ließen.

Nichts überraschte uns mehr, als eine Schaluppe mit den portugiesischen Farben längs der Küste daher fahren zu sehen, die gerade auf uns lossteuerte, nachdem sie unsere beiden Schiffe entdeckt hatten.

Wir fanden hier eine gute Rheede und einige Leute am Ufer, als wir aber landeten, flohen sie ins Innere und wollten durchaus nicht in Verkehr mit uns treten oder uns näher kommen, sondern schossen bloß mehrmals nach uns mit Pfeilen, so lang wie Lanzen.

Auf das Kommandowort rückten sie sofort in Haufen an das Ufer und begrüßten uns sogleich mit einem dichten Hagel von Pfeilen, welche mit einem kleinen in Schwefel oder ähnlichen Stoff getauchten Stück Tuch umwickelt waren, das durch seinen Flug in der Luft Feuer fing, und nur selten versagte eines dieser Geschosse.
Ich kann nicht leugnen, daß diese Angriffsweise, von der wir keinen Begriff gehabt hatten, uns anfänglich ein wenig überraschte, denn die Zahl der Pfeile war so groß, daß wir wirklich besorgten, sie möchten unser Schiff in Brand stecken. Auch entschloß sich William sogleich zurückzurudern, um uns zu überreden, daß wir die Anker lichten und in die See stechen sollten, aber es war nicht mehr Zeit dazu, denn die ungeheure am Ufer stehende Menschenmenge überschüttete das Boot und das Schiff alsbald von allen Seiten mit ihren Geschossen.

Schweizer Sagen mit Bildern von Felix Hoffmann, 1.Part

$
0
0
Heiny Widmer, ehemaliger Konservator, Kunsthaus Aarau schreibt über den Künstler Felix Hoffmann

Felix Hoffmann liesse sich ausstellungsmässig, wollte man das tun, auf die verschiedenste Weise inszenieren: man könnte ihn fixieren auf das Bild des einfühlsamen Märchenillustrators und ihn in die Tradition der grossen einschlägigen Zeichner stellen. Man könnte in ihm den Glasmaler sehen, der sich von der mittelalterlichen Tradition herschreibt; man könnte ihn als den Schilderer der engeren Heimat, der Stadt Aarau, des Juras, der näheren Lebensumgebung verstehen, und man könnte ihn zu jenen grossen handwerklichen Begabungen in der Kunst zählen, die virtuos jedes Medium, jedes Instrument zu handhaben verstanden.
Ja, man könnte in einem Wurf alle diese Eigenschaften zusammengenommen darstellen. Aber man würde dabei nie ganz in die Tiefe gelangen: denn Hoffmann war in erster Linie ein Künstler und als solcher ein Besessener, ein nie erlahmender Sucher nach dem Sinn seiner Arbeit und nach seiner eigenen Sendung.

 Schutzumschlag (Dustcover)

Rückseite (Backside)
Text von Arnold Büchli, Verlag Sauerländer AG, Aarau 1971

As every country Switzerland has its own legends and folk tales. It is impossible to tell here all the stories, however, you may enjoy the pictures of the Swiss artist Felix Hoffmann (1911 - 1975), who is famed for his illustrations to a wide range of books, fairytale collections and others, and for his stained glass windows, frescoes, and etchings.
Below, you will find a short text for the first famous legend: The Devil's Bridge.

Die Teufelsbrücke
The Devil's Bridge
A Swiss herdsman who often visited his girlfriend had either to make his way across the Reuss River with great difficulty or to take a long detour in order to see her.
It happened that once he was standing on a very high precipice when he spoke out angrily, "I wish that the devil were here to make me a bridge to the other side!"
In an instant the devil was standing beside him, and said, "If you will promise me the first living thing that walks across it, I will build a bridge for you that you can use from now on to go across and back. The herdsman agreed, and in a few moments the bridge was finished. However, the herdsman drove a chamois across the bridge ahead of himself, and he followed along behind.
The deceived devil ripped the animal apart and threw the pieces from the precipice. 
Die kegelnden Riesenbrüder

Der Stier von Uri

Der ungetreue Sohn

Wie einer das Jodeln lernte

 Die Schwarzen Buben

Der Ritter von La Sarraz

 Der schwarze Widder

Das Taubenloch

Der Geist mit der Fackel

Die schwarze Fee

Der hungrige Wolf

Die Sträggele und der Türst

Obän üss und niänän a!

Die Nidelgret

Der Stiefelreiter

Die brennenden Männer

Die Pestleutchen

Die Seele auf der Wanderschaft

 Die alte Spinnerin

Die Weissagung vom Erdbeben

Die hinkende Kuh

Die lebendig gewordene Puppe


Die Strafe des Rinderhirten

Arthur Rackham's Book of Pictures, Part 2

$
0
0



THE GREEN DRAGON

ONCE UPON A TIME

THE SEA SERPENT

THE WIZARD
actually, the wizard is a self-portrait of Arthur Rackham

THE HAUNTED WOOD

ELFIN REVELLERS

HI! YOU UP THERE

THE GOSSIPS

JACK FROST

MOTHER GOOSE

THE WIND AND THE WAVES

FOG
Bidden to a party at a friend's house, but imprisoned
by the weather, the artist conveyed his
explanations and regrets to his hostess by means
of this drawing

SHADES OF EVENING

THE LEVIATHAN
" He maketh the deep to boil like a pot.
He maketh a path to shine after him; one would
think the deep to be hoary."


CUPID'S ALLEY
" Strange Dance! 'Tis free to Rank and Rags;
Here no distinction flatters.
Here riches shakes its money-bags,
And Poverty its tatters;
Church, Army, Navy, Physic, L a w ; —
Maid, Mistess, Master, Valet;
Long locks, grey hairs, bald heads, and a',—
They bob—in ' Cupid's Alley.'"
Austin Dobson.
(The picture is in the National Gallery of British Art)

 A COURT IN THE ALHAMBRA

BASTINADO

THE FAIRY WIFE
" In a mild and steady light, which came from no
illumination of moon or stars, but seemed to be
interfused with the air, in the strong, warm wind
which wrapped the fell-top upon a sward of bent
grass which ran toward the tarn and ended in swept reeds,
 he saw six young women dancing in
a ring. Not to any music that he could hear did
they move, nor was the rhythm of their movement
either ordered or wild." ...(Maurice Hewlett)

THE SIGNAL

BUTTERFLIES

HAULING TIMBER

THE REGENT'S CANAL


"Jasmin" - Charcoal Portrait by Pierangelo Boog

Zdenek Burian Bilder zu Alfred Assolant: Die wunderbaren, aber wahrhaftigen Abenteuer des Kapitäns Corcoran

$
0
0
Jean Baptiste Alfred Assolant (1827-1886) war ein französischer Schriftsteller. Er veröffentlichte unter dem Titel: Scènes de la vie des États-Unis (1859) mehrere Novellen, die durch die Lebhaftigkeit der Darstellung und Lokalfarbe allgemeines Aufsehen erregten.
In rascher Folge erschienen nun neue Romane und Erzählungen, in denen freilich eine gewisse Gleichgültigkeit gegen Ordnung und Ebenmaß sowie Vorliebe für paradoxe Behauptungen und exzentrische Geistessprünge immer stärker hervortraten.
Er trat als politischer Schriftsteller, mehr und mehr verbittert, vor allem in den Organen der Kommunepartei auf, wie er denn auch seinem Deutschenhass (Le docteur Judassohn) bei jeder Gelegenheit Luft zu machen pflegte.Aventures merveilleuses mais authentiques du capitaine Corcoran erschien 1867. Die Lektüre dieser Abenteuergeschichte lässt allerdings keinen Zweifel offen, dass Assolant die Engländer genau so wenig liebte wie die Deutschen. Wobei ich unter Berücksichtigung gewisser Greueltaten der Briten in Indien dafür ein gewisses Verständnis habe.
Die tschechische Ausgabe mit den Bildern von Zdenek Burian erschien 1935.

Jean-Baptiste Alfred Assolant (1827-1886) was a French writer. He published under the title: Scènes de la vie des États Unis (1859) several short stories that attracted general attention by the vivacity of representation and local color.
New novels and short stories appeared in rapid succession. However, a certain indifference to order and balance, as well as fondness for paradoxical declarations and eccentric ideas emerged increasingly in his work.
He as a political writer, got more and more bitter, especially in the institutions of the community party, as he also gave vent to his strong aversion to Germans (Le docteur Judasson) on each occasion. Aventures merveilleuses mais authentiques du capitain Corcoran appeared in 1867. The reading of this adventure story leaves no doubt that Assolant disliked the English just as the Germans. Taking into account certain atrocities of the British in India one may have some understanding for it. I didn't find any English edition of the book. No surprise!
The Czech edition with Zdenek Burian's pictures appeared in 1935.

 
Es war ein Krokodil, das sich wie ein Sommerfrischler auf dem Sand sonnte und dabei vor sich hin dämmerte. Kein Traum schien diesen stillen Schlummer aufzuregen. Es schnarchte friedlich, wie eben ein Krokodil, das nichts auf dem Kerbholz hat, schnarcht.
Dieser tiefe, friedliche Schlaf, diese gottergebene und selbstvergessene Pose, ich weiß nicht, was noch, vielleicht auch die für weibliche Wesen so typische Eingebung des Teufels schien Louison (Name des Tigers) zu reizen. Ich sah, wie sie ihre Lippen bleckte. Sie lächelte wie ein Schülerbübchen, das seinem Schulmeisterlein einen Streich spielen will.


„Teufel auch“, meinte Corcoran, „dieser Kerl ist ja geradezu von dreister Unverschämtheit.“ Und er pfiff leicht. Bei diesem Pfiff tauchte Louison auf.
 „Meine Liebe“, sagte Corcoran zu ihr, „pflück mir diese Blume des Bösen von seinem Pferdchen, aber krümm ihm kein Härchen. Nimm ihn sanft zwischen Ober- und Unterkiefer, ohne ihn zu stoßen oder zu zerkratzen, und bring ihn her… Hast du mich verstanden, Liebling?“ Und er zeigte auf Rao. Dieser bemerkte die Geste und wollte sofort mit seinem Pferd kehrtmachen, leider scheute sein Pferd und keilte aus. Schon hatte der Tiger ihn vom Sattel gezerrt, ihn wie eine Katze, die eine Maus im Maul hat, gepackt und ihn bald darauf halb ohnmächtig zu Füßen des Kapitäns niedergelegt.

 Das Rhinozeros, von dieser Attacke entweder aus der Fassung gebracht, zumindest jedoch irritiert, hob den Kopf und stürzte sich plötzlich mit voller Wucht auf den Elefanten, den der Bretone bestiegen hatte. Unter diesem unerwarteten Stoß wankte der angegriffene Elefant und versuchte seinen Feind mit dem Rüssel zu packen, um ihn von der Erde hochzuheben und gegen einen Baum zu schmettern; doch das Rhinozeros ließ ihm keine Zeit dazu, mit einem einzigen wuchtigen Stoß seines Horns, das dem Elefanten bis tief ins Herz drang, brachte es ihn zu Fall. Sanft und schwer sank er wie eine entwurzelte Eiche zu Boden.

Corcoran hingegen hatte genug Bewegungsfreiheit. Mit seinem Revolver erschoß er den Engländer.

       Bald begannen Holkars Soldaten zurückzuweichen, zunächst in fester Ordnung und diszipliniert, doch allmählich immer kopfloser, bis sie Sitas Elefanten erreicht hatten, der, umgeben von Sugrivas Leuten, seinen Weg nach Bhagavapur fortsetzte. Durch einen Säbelhieb wurde Holkar von seinem Pferd gestürzt und fiel Scindiah vor die Füße. Sita schrie laut auf. Doch der schwergewichtige und kluge Scindiah packte mit seinem Rüssel den armen Holkar vorsichtig um die Taille und ließ ihn sanft in die Sänfte neben seine Tochter gleiten.

      Ihn sehen, anspringen, ihm mit den Zähnen das Genick brechen, seinen Komplizen mit einem Tatzenhieb außer Gefecht setzen, das alles war das Werk von Sekunden gewesen. Ein besonderer Glücksumstand war es gewesen, daß bei dem Kampf die Zündschnur verlosch und somit die Gefahr gebannt wurde.

      Plötzlich senkte sich ein enormes Gewicht auf die Kruppe von Corcorans Pferd und drückte es zu Boden. Das war der Tiger, der von hinten angriff. Da der Bretone den Finger am Abzug hatte, löste der Sprung des Tigers den Schuß. Er war entwaffnet. Darüber hinaus fiel das verletzte Tier so unglücklich, daß der Reiter mit einem Bein unter den Bauch seines Pferdes zu liegen kam und hilflos und unbeweglich den Angriff des Tigers erwartete.
      Baber begann den Angriff. Er sprang auf seinen Gegner los, wich dann plötzlich zurück, um erneut auf den Engländer loszugehen, als wollte er ihn mit bloßen Händen packen, doch das war nur eine Finte. Im Augenblick, da er seine Schlinge warf, sprang er zur Seite.
      Doubleface erwartete diesen Angriff kaltblütig. Er drehte sich um sich selbst, wich der Schlinge aus und ließ den Säbel mit voller Wucht auf den Kopf des Hindus niedersausen. Wenn er ihn getroffen hätte, dann wäre der Kopf des unglücklichen Baber in Stücke zerhauen worden. Baber allerdings war nicht der Mann, der sich überraschen ließ.

„Gnade! Gnade, Herr!“ rief Oberst Hayder, der sich schon gepfählt sah. „Wer an mir zweifelt, verdient bestraft zu werden“, sagte Corcoran. „Aber ich werde dich nicht bestrafen. Du wirst allerdings die Armee verlassen, denn in ihr kann ich nur Männer gebrauchen, die wissen, daß mir Brahma seine Kraft und Allmacht gegeben hat.“

      Corcoran warf ihr einen strengen Blick zu. „So also mißbrauchst du mein Vertrauen! Ich überlaß dir den Schutz über mein Reich, meine Frau, meinen Sohn, meine Schätze, alles, was mir lieb und teuer ist in der Welt, und der erste Gebrauch, den du von deiner Freiheit machst, ist, Scindiah anzufallen. Louison, die sich über den nur allzu berechtigten Vorwurf schämte, senkte den Blick.   „Sie hat mit dir Streit gesucht, mein armer Scindiah, nicht wahr?“ fragte er den Elefanten.
 Scindiah wackelte bejahend mit seinem Rüssel.
 „Beruhige dich, großer Freund, ich werde dir Gerechtigkeit widerfahren lassen… Wie hat denn der Streit angefangen?“
 Hier machte der Elefant mit seinem Rüssel verschiedene Bewegungen, um anzudeuten, daß man sich über ihn lustig gemacht habe und daß er sich das als Elefant nicht gefallen zu lassen brauchte.



Deutsche Ausgabe

Charlotte Harding, American Illustrator

$
0
0
Charlotte Harding (1873-1951) was the fourth of the young Philadelphia women to come from the early [Howard Pyle] Drexel classes. She, too, had the decorative bent and indulged it with more freedom and daring than most. She searched out many an unhackneyed rythym in her pictures -- strange shapes and patterns delighted her and she worked out new ways of seeing the humdrum world. Unforttunately, her strong sense of originality was handicapped by poor health.



    Eva March Tappan's Robin Hood, His Book,  illustrated by Charlotte Harding,  was published 1903 by Little, Brown & Company, Boston


 Frontispiece
















Another example of a book illustrated by Charlotte Harding;
Daughters of Desperation was published in 1903.
Regarding the pictures it is obvious that the artist has a special liking for extended shadows.

















The Century Magazine for May 1903 entitled Athletics for College Girls, pictures by Charlotte Harding





Schweizer Sagen mit Bildern von Felix Hoffmann, Part 2

$
0
0
 Der wilde Geissler

Das Bergmännchen als Freier

Die Taufe der Erdleute

Die Schildwache in Paris

Die Meisterin als Hexe

 Das Toggeli

Venediger und Hirtenknabe

Die drei Rosse

Hufeisen und Haarflechte

Der Untergang von Plurs

Die Riesenkuh am Rhein

Das Wütisheer

Der Lindengeiger

 Der Gratzug

Der Schuster im Guggistafel

Die Wasserfrau auf der Mieschfluh

Das Fetzfräuli

Der wilde Stier am Schwarzsee

Die fliegenden Drachen

Vrenelis Gärtli

Die Künste der fahrenden Schüler und Hexenmeister (1)

Die Künste der fahrenden Schüler und Hexenmeister (2)


Der Sankt Galler Spielmann

Von Theophrasto Paracelso, dem Zauberer

Das Greiss in der Fiseten


Felix Hoffmann

Carlo Collodi: Pinocchios Abenteuer illustriert von Roberto Innocenti, Part 1

$
0
0
Italian illustrator Roberto Innocenti is known for his highly detailed, painterly style and his devotion to realistic representation in such classic works as Cinderella, The Adventures of Pinocchio, A Christmas Carol, and Nutcracker. He is also the illustrator of an original Holocaust tale, Rose Blanche, that has been highly publicized throughout Europe and the United States. Innocenti's illustrations are unmistakable, demonstrating a delicacy of palette as well as a refinement of line, both of which are surprising in light of the fact that Innocenti is completely self-trained in art.
Born in a small town near Florence, Italy, just after the outbreak of World War II, Innocenti left school at age thirteen to help support his family by working in a steel foundry. By age eighteen he had moved to Rome and found work in an animation studio, a move that would influence his future career. He began to learn the trade of illustration and soon moved back to Florence. There he illustrated posters for movies and the theater in addition to designing books. In 1970 Innocenti met American artist John Alcorn, who convinced him to try his hand at book illustration.


 Roberto Innocenti  wurde am 16. Februar 1940 in Florenz geboren. Er hatte nie eine Kunstschule besucht, doch ging er mit achtzehn nach Rom und arbeitete in einem Zeichentrickstudio. Zum ersten Mal hat er hier die Handlung für seine Bilder selbst ausgedacht.Durch seine Illustrationen für klassische Kinderbücher wie Cinderella, Pinocchios Abenteuer, A Christmas Carol und ein Bilderbuch Rose Blanche über den Holocaust wurde er bekannt.
Die Zeit schrieb über ihn: Der mühsame Weg ist typisch für Innocentis Karriere als Illustrator. Wie Delessert oder Lionni ist Roberto Innocenti Autodidakt. Akademien, Malschulen, Kurse: unvorstellbarer Luxus für den zeichenbegabten Jungen. Die Familie war arm. So arm, daß Roberto eine Zeitlang bei Tante und Onkel lebte, weil noch zwei kleinere Geschwister durchgefüttert werden mußten. Er kam in die Primarschule, begann mit zwölf Jahren schon selbst Geld zu verdienen und mußte mit vierzehn in die Fabrik. Die Realschule holte er in Abendkursen nach. Die Fabrikarbeit war hart und gefährlich: Bei Emaillierprozessen wird mit hochgiftigen Säuren gearbeitet; zweimal kommt Roberto bei Unfällen mit dem Schrecken davon. Frühe Leidenschaft des Kindes ist Zeichnen. Neben dem Geldverdienen in der Fabrik versucht er sich in Werbegraphik. Schlechte Zeiten – schlechte Bezahlung. Hat er mal die Chance, eine Zeichnung unterzubringen, macht die Firma kurz darauf Pleite und bleibt das Geld schuldig. Auch beim Versuch, in Cinecittà als Trickzeichner unterzukommen, ist er glücklos.


 Er nahm sogleich die scharfe Axt, wollte die Rinde entfernen und das Holz glätten; als er aber gerade zum ersten Hieb ausholen wollte, blieb ihm der Arm plötzlich stehen, denn er hörte ein ganz dünnes Stimmchen, das flehentlich bat: "Schlag mich nicht!"



Unterdessen blieben die Schaulustigen und Tagediebe stehen und bildeten einen kleinen Menschenauflauf um sie herum. Der eine sagte dies, der andere das.

Sie redeten so daher und machten soviel Theater, dass der Polizist Pinocchio befreite und den armen Geppeto ins Gefängnis warf.



Bei diesen Worten sprang Pinocchio wutentbrannt auf, nahm einen Holzhammer von der Bank und schleuderte ihn gegen die Grille. Vielleicht nahm er nicht einmal an, dass er sie treffen könnte, aber unglücklicherweise erwischte er sie genau am Kopf, sie konnte gerade noch "zirp-zirp-zirp" sagen und blieb dann totgeschlagen an der Wand kleben.

Daraufhin bereitete es die Flügel aus und flog durch das offene Fenster und war bald nicht mehr zu sehen.

Vor lauter Hunger und Verzweiflung zog er die Glocke eines Hauses, läutete Sturm und sagte sich: "Es wird schon jemand an die Tür kommen." Tatsächlich erschien ein altes Männchen mit der Nachtmütze auf dem Kopf am Fenster...

"Stell dich unter das Fenster und halt den Hut hin". Pinocchio nahm sogleich sein Hütchen ab; aber als er es hinhalten wollte, spürte er, wie ein gewaltiger Wasserguss auf ihn niederging....

Pinocchio verkauft die Fibel, um ins Puppentheater zu gehen.

"Bringt mir die Holzpuppe her, die am Nagel hängt. Mir scheint, die Puppe ist aus ganz besonders trockenem Holz, und ich bin sicher, wenn ich sie ins Feuer werfe, gibt sie mir eine herrliche Flamme für den Braten ab."


 Der Puppenspieler Feuerfresser schenkt Pinocchio fünf Goldmünzen, die er seinem Vater Geppetto bringen soll. Aber Pinocchio lässt sich vom Fuchs und vom Kater beschwatzen und geht mit ihnen fort.

Sie gingen weiter und weiter, und als es Abend wurde, kamen sie endlich todmüde beim Wirtshaus "Zum  Roten Krebs" an.

"Her mit dem Geld, oder du bist tot", sagte der grössere der beiden Mörder.



The Russian Story Book illustrated by Frank C. Papé

$
0
0
Frank Cheyne Papé (1878 - 1972) was an English artist and book illustrator. He studied at The Slade School of Fine Art, completing his studies circa 1902-04. Papé was married to a fellow Slade student, illustrator Alice Stringer.
Papé's first known work, for E. Clement's Naughty Eric, published in 1902, remains extremely rare. One copy is held by The British Library. An original pen and ink illustration from one of the stories, 'The Magic Stone', has been found in Sussex, England (Wikipedia). 
Papé's next earliest illustrations are found in books for children from around 1908, including The Odyssey and The Pilgrim's Progress. During the second decade of the 20th Century he made extensive contributions to many book titles.







But as he turned away, he saw the
tears of the imprisoned Svyatogor flowing in a crystal
stream through the crevice in the iron-bound casket
on the lonely hills.



As for those bones of the Magic Bird which were
scattered to the winds, as they fell to earth they
became seeds of the blood -red poppy, from the
flowers of which came the first sweet whistling
nightingales who know nothing of the roar of the
lion or the hiss of the serpent.











...and they stayed three years over their task of computation, but at the end of that time they had not finished one tenth of the work. Then they sent a message to Vladimir which ran : "Sell Kiev for parchment and Chernigof for ink, and then we shall perhaps be able to make a beginning of computing the possessions of the young Lord Diuk."





Then she went into the pavilion, where she put off her ambassador's garments and dressed herself
as Vasilissa, placing a coif upon her head to hide her shortened hair. When she came forth Stavr dropped
his harp of maple wood upon the lap of moist Mother Earth, and taking his young wife by her lily-white
hands, he kissed her sugar mouth.




...and sitting in that cavern with his sword across his knees he slowly turned to stone. Cloudfall also became a lifeless statue, and there the two heroic friends sit on, waiting, waiting, waiting for the touch of life which will come when Holy Russia is in direst need and calls aloud in distress for the courage and skill, the patience and the fiery valour of Ilya of Murom the Old Cossack.














Jules Verne: Die geheimnisvolle Insel (The mysterious Island) illustrated by Zdenek Burian

$
0
0
The first edition of Jules Verne's The  Mysterious Island  (L'Ile Mysterieuse) appeared in 1874-75. It contained 154 pictures by Jules Ferat. Ferat's illustrations will be shown in a later post. The Czech edition Tajuplný ostrov illustrated with 16 full page pictures by Zdenek Burian was published in 1939. Ten years later editions appeared with with newly added text illustrations by Zdenek Burian.

 Title page of the French edition (Titelblatt der franzüsischen Erstausgabe)

Die erste Ausgabe von Jules Vernes L'Ile Mysterieuse erschien in den Jahren 1874-75. Sie enthielt 154 Bilder von Jules Ferat. Seine Illustrationen werden wir in einem späteren Beitrag zeigen. Die tschechische Ausgabe mit dem Titel Tajuplný ostrov mit 16ganzseitigen Bildern vonZdenek Burian wurde 1939 veröffentlicht. Zehn Jahre später erschienen weitere Burian Ausgaben mit kleineren Zeichnungen im Text, die aber nicht die Qualität der ersten Ausgabe erreichten. Zudem illustrierten diese nur den ersten Teil der Erzählung, die in drei Teilen erschienen war. Die ganze Abenteuergeschichte erreicht den Umfang von ca. 500 Seiten.



Five prisoners of war (Captain Cyrus Smith, Gideon Spilett reporter of  the New York Herald,  Smith's black servant Nebuchadnezza, a sailor named Pencroff, and the young  Harbet Brown, who all were detained in Richmond, the capital of Virginia, which was the principal stronghold of the South during the War of Secession, escaped from the town by the unusual means of hijacking a balloon.. After flying in stormy weather for several days, the group crash-lands on a cliff-bound, volcanic, unknown (and fictitious) island. There begins a Roninsonade. The novel is a crossover sequel to Verne's Twenty Thousend Leagues Under the Sea. 
Some english editions changed the names of persons mentionned above. Since the reasons are incomprehensible, I have used the original names of the French edition.


The five voyagers had hoisted themselves into the net, and clung to the meshes, gazing at the abyss.
... A loud barking was heard. A dog accompanied the voyagers, and was held pressed close to his master in the meshes of the net. "Top has seen something, " cried one of the men. Then immediately a loud voice shouted, --  "Land! Land!" 

Die fünf Passagiere hingen in den Schnüren oberhalb des Ringes und hielten sich über der entsetzlichen Tiefe an den Netzmaschen.... Da erschallte ein lautes Gebell. In Begleitung  der Passagiere befand sich auch ein Hund, der neben seinem Herrn in den Maschen des Netzes hing. "Top muss etwas gesehen haben!" rief einer der Passagiere. Bald darauf ertönte eine markige Stimme: "Land! Land!"

One of the most distinguished was Captain Cyrus Smith. He was a native of Massachusetts, a first-class engineer, to whom the government had confided, during the war, the direction of the railways, which were so important at that time. A true Northerner, thin, bony, lean, about forty-five years of age; his close-cut hair and his beard, of which he only kept a thick mustache, were already getting gray...
Cyrus Smith, gebürtig aus Massachusettes, war Ingenieur ersten Ranges, dem die Bundesregierung während des Krieges die Leitung des Eisenbahnwesens, das eine so wichtige Rolle spielte, anvertraute. Durch und durch ein Amerikaner des Nordens, mager, knochig und etwa fünfundvierzig Jahre alt, zeigten sein Haar und sein starker Schnurrbart schon eine recht gräuliche Färbung.

Five minutes after having left the beach, the reporter and his two companions arrived at a sort of excavation, hollowed out at the back of a high mound. There Top stopped, and gave a loud, clear bark. Spilett, Harbert, and Pencroff dashed into the cave. Neb was there, kneeling beside a body extended on a bed of grass.
The body was that of the engineer, Cyrus Smith.

Nach etwa fünf Minuten gelangten der Reporter und seine zwei Begleiter zu einer Art Sandhöhle im Rücken einer Düne. Laut bellend stand Top davor. Spilett, Harbert und Pencroff eilten hinein. In ihr befand sich Nab kniend neben einem auf einem Bett aus Laub ausgestrecktem Körper. Es war der des Ingenieurs Cyrus Smith.

Their insufficiency was still more clearly shown when a troop of quadrupeds, jumping, bounding, making leaps of thirty feet, regular flying mammiferae, fled over the thickets, so quickly and at such a height, that one would have thought that they passed from one tree to another like squirrels.
"Kangaroos!" cried Harbert.
 ...als eine hüpfende, springende Gruppe Vierbeiner, die ungefähr bis auf dreissig Fuss Hühe emporschnellten und mit fliegenden Säugetieren zu vergleichen waren, über die Gebüsche weg dahinflogen, und zwar so schnell und in einer solchen Höhe, dass man eher Eichhörnchen zu sehen glaubte, die sich von einem Baum zum andern schwangen. "Das sind Känguruhs!" rief Harbert.

It was not a lamantin, but one of that species of the order of cetaceans, which bear the name of the "dugong," for its nostrils were open at the upper part of its snout. The enormous animal rushed on the dog, who tried to escape by returning towards the shore. His master could do nothing to save him, and before Gideon Spilett or Harbert thought of bending their bows, Top, seized by the dugong, had disappeared beneath the water.
Das gewaltige Tier (Dugong = indianisches Walross) stürzte wütend auf den Hund los, der erschreckt das Ufer wieder zu erreichen suchte.

"What a fine animal!" said Neb; "but how are we to catch it?"
"Nothing is easier, Neb," replied Harbert. "We have only to turn the turtle on its back, and it cannot possibly get away. Take your spear and do as I do."
 "Ein schönes Tier", sagte Nab, "aber wie sollen wir es fangen?""Nichts leichter als das, Nab", antwortete Harbert. "Wir brauchen die Schildkröte nur auf den Rücken zu wenden, dann kann sie nicht mehr fliehen."

This was not his first tiger, and advancing to within ten feet of the animal he remained motionless, his gun to his shoulder, without moving a muscle. The jaguar collected itself for a spring, but at that moment a shot struck it in the eyes, and it fell dead.
Der Jaguar kauerte sich zusammen, um sich auf den Jäger zu stürzen; aber in dem Moment, als er springen wollte, traf ihn eine wohl gezielte Kugel zwischen den Augen, die ihn tot niederstreckte.

At eight o'clock that evening the cart, after passing over the Mercy bridge, descended the left bank of the river, and stopped on the beach. The onagers being unharnessed, were thence led to their stable...
 Um acht Uhr abends schwankte der Wagen nach Überschreiten der Mercy-Brücke wieder längs des linken Flussufers hinab und hielt am Strand an. Die Onager wurden ausgespannt, zu ihrem Stall zurückgeführt,...

They did well to hasten, for at a turn of the path near a clearing they saw the lad thrown on the ground and in the grasp of a savage being, apparently a gigantic ape, who was about to do him some great harm.
 To rush on this monster, throw him on the ground in his turn, snatch Harbert from him, then bind him securely, was the work of a minute for Pencroff and Gideon Spilett. The sailor was of Herculean strength, the reporter also very powerful, and in spite of the monster's resistance he was firmly tied so that he could not even move.
Wie gut es war, dass sie nicht gezögert hatten, zeigte sich, als sie nahe einer Lichtung den jungen Mann von einem wilden Tier niedergeworfen sahen, scheinbar einem rieseigen Affen, der ihm recht unbarmherzig mitspielte.               


Harbert was there face to face with a fierce jaguar, similar to the one which had been killed on Reptile End. Suddenly surprised, he was standing with his back against a tree, while the animal gathering itself together was about to spring.
But the stranger, with no other weapon than a knife, rushed on the formidable animal, who turned to meet this new adversary.
The struggle was short. The stranger possessed immense strength and activity. He seized the jaguar's throat with one powerful hand, holding it as in a vise, without heeding the beast's claws which tore his flesh, and with the other he plunged his knife into its heart.
 Dort stand Harbert einem Jaguar, ähnlich dem im Schlangenvorgebirge erlegten, gegenüber. Vor Schrecken starr, drückte er sich gegen einen Baum, während das Tier seine Muskeln spannte, um sich auf ihn zu stürzen... Da warf sich der Unbekannte, mit keiner anderen Waffe als einem Messer versehen, der Bestie entgegen, die sich nun gegen den neuen Feind wandte.

      
A fifth shot from Ayrton laid one low, and the others drew back, not understanding what was going on. Ayrton was on deck in two bounds, and three seconds later, having discharged his last barrel in the face of a pirate who was about to seize him by the throat, he leaped over the bulwarks into the sea.
Ein fünfter Revolverschuss Ayrtons streckte den einen nieder, die anderen eilten, ohne zu wissen, was eigentlich vorging, wieder zurück.

The boat was not more than two cables-lengths off the islet when she stopped. The man at the tiller stood up and looked for the best place at which to land.
At that moment two shots were heard. Smoke curled up from among the rocks of the islet. The man at the helm and the man with the lead-line fell backwards into the boat. Ayrton's and Pencroff's balls had struck them both at the same moment.
 Nur zwei Kabellängen von dem Eiland entfernt kam das Boot zum Stillstand; der Steuermann schien nach einem geeigneten Landeplatz auszuspähen. Da krachten plötzlich zwei Gewehrschüsse...

 And he ran round the left corner of the palisade. There he found a convict, who aiming at him, sent a ball through his hat. In a few seconds, before he had even time to fire his second barrel, he fell, struck to the heart by Smith's dagger, more sure even than his gun.
 Er wandte sich nach links, um die Hürdenwand zu umgehen. Dort traf er auf einen Sträfling, der auf ihn anlegte und seinen Hut durchlöcherte....

The boat stopped, and the colonists perceived a bright light illuminating the vast cavern, so deeply excavated in the bowels of the island, of which nothing had ever led them to suspect the existence.
At a height of a hundred feet rose the vaulted roof, supported on basalt shafts. Irregular arches, strange moldings, appeared on the columns erected by nature in thousands from the first epochs of the formation of the globe. The basalt pillars, fitted one into the other, measured from forty to fifty feet in height, and the water, calm in spite of the tumult outside, washed their base. The brilliant focus of light, pointed out by the engineer, touched every point of rocks, and flooded the walls with light.
By reflection the water reproduced the brilliant sparkles, so that the boat appeared to be floating between two glittering zones.Das Boot stand still, und die Kolonisten bemerkten einen gläzenden Lichtschimmer, der die ungeheure, so tief im Innern der Insel ausgebrochene Höhle erhellte.

Stretched on a rich sofa they saw a man, who did not appear to notice their presence.
Then Cyrus Smith raised his voice, and to the extreme surprise of his companions, he uttered these words,—
"Captain Nemo, you asked for us! We are here.—"
 Da nahm Cyrus Smith das Wort und sagte zum grössten Erstaunen seiner Gefährten: "Kapitän Nemo! Sie haben uns gerufen? Hier sind wir!"

But during the night of the 8th an enormous column of vapor escaping from the crater rose with frightful explosions to a height of more than three thousand feet. The wall of Dakkar Grotto had evidently given way under the pressure of gases, and the sea, rushing through the central shaft into the igneous gulf, was at once converted into vapor. But the crater could not afford a sufficient outlet for this vapor. An explosion, which might have been heard at a distance of a hundred miles, shook the air. Fragments of mountains fell into the Pacific, and, in a few minutes, the ocean rolled over the spot where Lincoln island once stood.
 Aber in dieser Nacht vom 8. zum 9. März stieg unter furchtbarem Krachen eine riesige Dampfsäule aus dem Krater wohl bis zu dreitausend Fuss in die Höhe.

Carlo Collodi: Pinocchios Abenteuer illustriert von Roberto Innocenti Part 2

$
0
0
Das schöne Mädchen mit dem blauen Haar lässt den hölzernen Jungen vom Baum herunterholen, legt ihn ins bett und ruft drei Ärzte herbei, um zu erfahren, ob er tot oder lebendig sei.


Und alsbald kamen die Ärzte, einer nach dem anderen: das heisst, es erschienen ein Rabe, ein Käuzchen und eine Sprechende Grille.

In diesem Augenblick ging die Zimmertür auf, und vier Hasen, schwarz wie Tinte, traten ein und trugen auf ihren Schultern eine kleine Totenbahre. "Was wollt ihr von mir?" rief Pinocchio und richtete sich völlig verängstigt im Bett auf.

Er betrat das Feld und ging schnurstracks auf das kleine Loch zu, in dem er seine Goldmünzen vergraben hatte aber nichts...und er grub und grub und grub und machte ein so tiefes Loch, dass man einen ganzen Strohballen hätte hineintun können. Aber die Goldmünzen waren nicht mehr da.

Der Richter hörte ihm sehr wohlwollend zu, nahm lebhaftesten Anteil an der Schilderung, zeigte Rührung und Bewegung, und als der hölzerne Junge nichts mehr zu sagen hatte, streckte er die Hand aus und läutete mit der Glocke. Auf diese Klingelzeichen hin erschienen zwei als Polizisten gekleidete Fleischerhunde...."Dieser arme Teufel wurde um vier Goldstücke beraubt: ergreift ihn deshalb und werft ihn sofort ins Gefängnis."

Aber er hatte sein Bein noch nicht richtig gehoben, da schnellte plötzlich die Schlange wie eine Sprungfeder hoch, und der hölzerne Junge der vor Entsetzen zurückwich, stolperte und fiel zu Boden. Und er stürzte so unglücklich, dass sein Kopf im Strassenschlamm steckenblieb und seine Beine kerzengerade nach oben standen.

"Wer Trauben klaut, stiehlt auch Hühner. Ich will dir eine Lehre erteilen, die du nicht so schnell vergisst!"
(Diese Bild fehlt in der deutschen Ausgabe)

An der Tenne vor seinem Haus angekommen, warf er Pinocchio zu Boden, setzte ihm einen Fuss auf den Kragen und sagte: "Es ist schon spät, und ich will ins Bett gehen. Unsere Abrechnung verschieben wir auf morgen. Da mir heute der Hund, der nachts das Haus hütete, gestorben ist, sollst du seinen Posten einnehmen."

Da überkam ihn eine traurige Vorahnung, und er lief, was seine Beine hergaben. In wenigen Minuten war er auf der Wiese, auf der einmal das kleine weisse Haus gestanden hatte. Aber das kleine weisse Haus war nicht mehr da. An seiner Stelle stand ein kleiner Marmorstein, auf dem in Druckschrift folgende traurige Worte zu lesen waren. HIER RUHT DAS MÄDCHEN MIT DEM BLAUEN HAAR/GESTORBEN AUS KUMMER/WEIL ES VERLASSEN WURDE/VON SEINEM KLEINEN BRUDER PINOCCHIO.

"Was ist denn passiert?" fragte Pinocchio ein altes Mütterchen. "Ein armer Vater, der seinen kleinen Sohn verloren hat, ist auf den Gedanken gekommen, ein Boot zu besteigen, um ihn jenseits des Meeres zu suchen, aber heute ist das Meer so wild und das Boot droht gleich zu versinken."


Da hörten sie einen Schrei der Verzweiflung. Sie drehten sich um und sahen, wie ein Junge sich von einer  hohen Felsenklippe ins Meer stürzte und dabei rief: "Ich will meinen Vater retten!"

Da breitete der hölzerne Junge seine Kleider zum Trocknen in der Sonne aus und hielt nach allen Seiten Ausschau, ob er nicht vielleicht auf der rieseigen Wasserfläche ein kleines Boot mit einem ganz kleinen Mann darin ausmachen könnte. (das Bild fehlt in der deutschen Ausgabe)

Nach einer halben Stunde Weges kam er in einem Dorf an, das man das Dorf der fleissigen Bienen nannte. Die Strassen wimmelten nur so von Leuten, die geschäftig hin und her eilten.
(das Bild fehlt in der deutschen Ausgabe)

"Gute Frau, dürfte ich einen Schluck Wasser aus Eurem Krug drinken?", fragte Pinocchio, der vor Durst brannte.

"Ab morgen", sagte die Fee, "wirst du zur Schule gehen."
(In der deutschen Ausgabe ist nur ein Ausschnitt des Bildes vorhanden, dafür wurde das ganze Bild für den Schutzumschlag verwendet. Das hier gezeigte Bild ist vollständig)



"Dem ist nicht schlecht!", sagte einer der Polizisten, als er sich bückte und Egenio aus der Nähe betrachtete...
(Bild fehlt in der deutschen Ausgabe)

Dann wandten sie sich Pinocchio zu; sie nahmen ihn ihre Mitte und schüchterten ihn mit militärischem Befehlston ein: "Vorwärts! Und zwar etwas flott! Sonst kannst du was erleben!"

Möchtest du in der Pfanne  gebraten werden, oder ziehst du es vor, im Tiegel mit einer Tomatensauce gekocht zu werden?

Nach einer halben Stunde schliesslich öffnete sich ein Fenster im obersten Stockwerk, und Pinocchio sah, wie eine grosse Schnecke mit einem Lichtchen auf dem Kopf am Fenster erschien. Sie sagte: "Wer klopft da noch so spät?"



"Komm mit uns, wir werden lustig sein", riefen vier Stimmen aus dem Wageninnern.

Dieses Land glich keinem andern auf dieser Welt...Auf den Strassen eine Ausgelassenheit, ein Lärmen und ein Kreischen...(Bild fehlt in der deutschen Ausgabe)

Er bemerkte zu seinem grössten Entsetzen, dass seine Ohren über Nacht um mehr als eine Handbreite gewachsen waren...

Das  berühmte Eselchen Pinocchio tritt zum ersten Mal auf...

jedenfalls führte der käufer, nachdem er zwanzig Groschen bezahlt hatte, das Eselchen ans Ufer des Meeres, befestigte einen grossen Stein an seinem Hals küpfte an eines seiner Beine ein Seil, das er in der Hand behielt, und gab ihm plötzlich einen Stoss und warf es ins Wasser.

Dieses Meeresungeheuer war kein geringerer als der Riesenhaifisch, von dem in dieser Geschichte schon mehr als einmal die Rede war......Das Ungeheuer hatte ihn erreicht: es holte Luft und schlürfte den armen Holzjungen ein... (Dieses Bild fehlt in der deutschen Ausgabe)

...machte Pinocchio ein Schritt nach dem andern dem winzigen Lichtlein entgegen, das er weit in der Ferne schimmern sah....- und was entdeckte er dort? ...er entdeckte einen kleinen gedeckten Tisch, auf dem eine Kerze  brannte, die in einer grünen  Kristallflasche steckte; und am Tischchen steckte sass ein kleiner alter Mann, der so weiss war wie Schnee...
"Meine Augen trügen mich also nicht?" sagte der alte Mann und wischte sich die Augen "Du bist wirklich mein lieber Pinocchio?"


 "Oh, armer Docht!" sagte Pinocchio leise

Charles Folkard's Illustrations for British Fairy and Folk Tales

$
0
0
Charles James Folkard (6 April 1878 – 26 February 1963) was an English illustrator. He worked as a conjuror before becoming a prolific illustrator of children’s books. In 1915, he created Teddy Tail, a popular cartoon character who ran in the Daily Mail newspapers for decades. Folkard is well known for his work on The Arabian Nights, Grimms' Fairy Tales, Aesop's Fables, and Pinocchio. (Wikipedia)


 Charles James Folkard

 Frontispiece
The King of Lochlin's Daughters
" I will do that," said he, and he sent up in the basket, first the three men, and then the king's daughters. The three great men were waiting at the mouth of the hole till they should come up, and they went with them to the king, and told the king that they themselves had done all the daring deeds.

 Fairies of the Downs and Commons
The brighter for that veil around it and above it was the mossy nest over which Teel now stood still. Here it was that the Fairies of the Wood, who stole her, held his little Clary cradled. Here she was sleeping happily, in form not a day older than when she was lost, soothed by singing from a choir of green Wood-Fairies, who were her attendants. But when Teel snatched her up, and fell to kissing her, the Fairies sang :
                                "Playfellow Clary, nice to steal,
                                You must go home with Father Teel.
                                Clary will be our playfellow for good
                                 If father don't leave his Gold Shoes in the wood."


 The Sea-Maiden
It was not long before she saw the beast making for shore. She took a ring off her finger and put it on the lad's. He awoke and went with his sword and his dog to meet the beast. What spluttering and splashing between them ! The dog was doing all he might, and the king's daughter was palsied with fear of the noise of the beast. They would now be under, and now above. At last he cut off one of the heads. The dragon gave one roar, and the son of earth, Echo of the rocks, called to his screech, and he drove the loch into fury from end to end, then in a twinkling went out of sight.
"Good luck and victory were following thee, lad !" said the princess. "I am safe for one night, but the beast will come again, and forever, until the other two heads come off him"

The Magic Mackerel
Music had been his sole refreshment in the intervals of work. A good-natured Siren used to bring her harp and sing with him. Sometimes, when she meant soon to come back, her harp had been left in a corner of his cave. There it was at that moment, ready to be touched, and the exulting Mackerel, taking it between his feet, swept his two thousand fingers through its many strings. Then music such as no ten-fingeredcreature ever made, brought all the Sirens to his door.

The Battle of the Birds
At the heat of day the giant's daughter felt her father's breath burning her back. "Put thy finger in the filly's ear, and throw behind thee whatever thou findest in it." He got a splinter of grey stone, and in a twinkling there were twenty miles, by breadth and height, of great grey rock behind them. The giant came full pelt, but past the rock he couldnot go.
" The tricks of my own daughter are the hardest things that ever met me," said the giant ...


 Melilot
 Melilot with her three wonderful neighbours, Dock, Dodder, and Squill, hopping arm in arm behind her, and getting a good hold on the stones with their web feet, began to climb the mountain. Rain still poured out fo the sky; runlets flooded their path, and the great cataract roared by their side.

Silver Tassels
Flying half round the world to escape being again waylaid and engaged in conversation for the rest of his life, Splug travelled in half a day to the Court of the Cockatoos, and stood before Teasel as she was combing out the Queen Cockatoo's crest.
"What, Splug !" she cried, " and with a thimble on your head !"
"Never mind that. Answer me quickly. Did you not work once at a girdle with two silver tassels ?"
The Queen Cockatoo gave a wild scream that brought King Cockatoo and half his army to her rescue.

The Chicken Market
 Ben Ody is Resolved on Carrying his Chickens to a Pretty Market
 Once upon a time there was a rustic whose name was Ben Ody, and he knew more of what is in an egg than that it is something good to eat. He understood how one thing comes out of another. Ben Ody, when he had no more sense than the rest of the world, kept fowls; and when he grew to be so wise, he had been carrying his chickens to a pretty market.


Frederick Richardson: Illustrations for Little Peachling

$
0
0
Frederick Richardson (1862 –1937) was an American illustrator of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, perhaps best remembered for his illustrations of works by L.Frank Baum.
Richardson was educated at the St. Louis School of Fine Arts and the Academie Julian in Paris. He taught at the Chicago Art Institute for seven years. He has been described as a slight-built, gray-eyed man whose work was heavily influenced by the Art Nouveau movement. From 1892 on, if not earlier, Richardson made his living as a newspaper illustrator, working for the Chicago Daily News; he produced many pictures of the famous Chicago World's Fair of 1893, the World's Columbian Exposition. His employers valued his work highly enough the send him back to Paris to cover another world's fair there in 1900. A collection of his work for the Daily News was published in 1899.
In 1903 Richardson moved to New York City to pursue book illustration. His first project was Zixi of Ix, which was published serially in St. Nicolas Magazine in 1904 and 1905 and in book form in the latter year. Richardson followed that initial work with more book-illustration jobs, including the works of Hans Christian Anderson, Aesop's Fables, Mother Goose, Pinocchio, and East of the Sun, West of the Moon, among many others. After his death in 1937, Richardson was memorialized with a posthumous volume that matched traditional tales, like "Three Billy Goats Gruff" and "The Bremen Town Musicians," with brightly-colored illustrations by the artist. (from The Wonderful Wiki of OZ)






''Ken-en! Ken-en! Thank you! thank you!" said the pheasant, flying away with the dumpling, which she fed to her hungry family.
Soon she came flying back and hovering over them she called, "Where are you going, honorable soldier?""I am going to the Island of the Ogres to punish them for their wickedness and to force them to give back the treasures they have stolen from the poor people."
"Let me go with you," said the pheasant. "I may be of some service to you upon this journey."

Momotaro and his friends soon won the victory, and the Ogres were put to flight, while the King of the Ogres was taken prisoner. Then the King of the Ogres was forced to give up the keys to the castle prison, and Momotaro let out all the poor prisoners.



Then a marvelous thing happened. The tea-kettle began to move about. A hairy head, with a sharp little nose, appeared from its spout. Two funny beady little eyes peered all about. A long bushy tail came from" the opposite side. Four little feet pushed from under a soft furry coat, that seemed to cover the surface of the kettle. The queerest little badger jumped down and went capering all around the room! It jumped up and down upon the floor. It climbed on the table and danced about.
 


The wife gazed and gazed into the mirror, smiling at the picture of herself, for she liked to see her red lips, and her black hair, and laughing eyes, and she knew that her husband was right—that she was, indeed, very beautiful.


At last, the Prince of the Reed Plains came near the royal palace, bearing his brothers' burdens. He looked like a servant but the beautiful princess knew, from the hare, just who he was; so she went outside the gate to meet him. When she looked into his eyes, she knew that he had a kind heart, and she loved him at once.

As he came out upon the burned and blackened moor, the field mouse ran to him, carrying the arrow in his mouth. The tiny children of the mouse came after, each bringing a feather from the shaft of the arrow.


That night the warrior hid himself behind a tall screen in their sleeping room, watching through a crack to see what would happen. He waited and watched until two o'clock, "the hour of the Ox," when suddenly up through the mats, came the tiny little soldiers, dressed just as he was dressed. They marched about waving their tiny swords, and began to dance and to sing in mocking tones:
Chin-Chin Kobakama -
Yomo Juke sorol
Oshizumare, Hime-Gimi!
Ya ton ton!
As they danced and whirled about, making up faces, they looked so funny that the young warrior wanted to laugh. Then by the light of the night lantern, he saw the drawn white face of his poor little wife, who was watching the men in wild-eyed horror.



So the children took some of their bright blossoms andbound this flower sash around the slender tree....
Just then the happy children came running through the forest, and when they saw the wood-men, they said, "Oh, honorable wood-cutters, this is our own little Lady Silver-Mist. We love this little tree better than any in the forest. It is our playmate, please do not cut it down!"
Then one of the woodcutters said, "We are sorry, children,but we are ordered to chop down all the trees on the hillside, so that a beautiful palace may be built here, but if you wish to save your little tree, you may dig it up and carry it away."



Just at midnight, when the full moon was high in the heavens, shedding a silvery light over the mountainside, the fearful troop of phantom cats came out, led by thegreat giant cat.
"Miaow — Miaow — Miaow — Miaow-Oww — Miaoww-Oww-Owwf they shrieked, as they danced wildy about and then, through their terrified groans and moans, the young man heard them chant the same song:
Tell it not to Schippeitaro,
That the phantom cats are here!
Tell it not to Schippeitaro,
Lest he soon appear!"
Scarcely had the song ended when the monster cat caught sight of the cage and, with wild yells of triumph, he sprang upon it. With one blow from his strong paw, he broke open the door of the cage, ready to devour the dainty maiden. But, to his surprise, out jumped the powerful dog, Schippeitaro.



The sparrow, hearing this, brought out two wicker baskets, saying, "Honorable Friends, we would like to give you a parting present. Which of these baskets do you desire—will you take the heavy one, or the light one?" The old people replied, "We are old and our backs are bent so, if it please you, give us the light basket for it will be easier for us to carry."
"Certainly," said the sparrow, "it shall be as you desire. You may have the light basket, for you have a long journey before you. We trust that you may reach your home in safety. We are so very grateful to you, dear master and mistress, for your honorable visit."

The water sparkled upon the stones and the wood-cutter feeling very thirsty bent down, using his hand for a cup, and drank. To his surprise he found that it was not water he was drinking, but was sweet sake. Never had he tasted such good sake. He filled his gourd and hurried home to share it with his father and mother.



There was a rushing noise like the noise of a great wind, and then all was still, and a solemn voice was heard saying: ''Hafiz, listen unto me! Thy wish now is granted thee, Be thou the rich man!''
Now Hafiz had heard of strange tales of a mountain spirit who could do wonderful things, but he had never believed in this spirit, and so when he heard the sound, he looked all around, but as he could see no one, he thought that he had been dreaming. "There is no such a thing as the spirit of the mountain," he said.




Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens by J.M. Barrie illustrated by Arthur Rackham, Part 1

$
0
0
The first editions of Peter Pan in the Kensington Gardens, were originally published by Hodder & Stoughton, London in 1906 and by Charles Scriber's Sons, New York  in 1907. They contained fifty color plates created by Arthur Rackham.
It is a pitty that newer editions only show a part of the color plates and Rackham's black and white drawings disappeared, too.

 THE GRAND TOUR OF THE GARDENS



I used to take David there nearly every day unless he was looking decidedly flushed. No child has ever been in the whole of the Gardens, because it is so soon time to turn back. The reason it is soon time to turn back is that, if you are as small as David, you sleep from twelve to one. If your mother was not so sure that you sleep from twelve to one, you could most likely see the whole of them. 

The Gardens are bounded on one side by a never-ending line of omnibuses, over which your nurse has such authority that if she holds up her finger to any one of them it stops immediately. She then crosses with you in safety to the other side.

 The Kensington Gardens are in London, where the King lives.

 The lady with the balloons, who sits just outside.

There are more gates to the Gardens than one gate, but that is the one you go in at, and before you go in you speak to the lady with the balloons, who sits just outside. This is as near to being inside as she may venture, because, if she were to let go her hold of the railings for one moment, the balloons would lift her up, and she would be flown away. 

In the Broad Walk you meet all the people who are worth knowing, and there is usually a grown-up with them to prevent them going on the damp grass, and to make them stand disgraced at the corner of a seat if they have been mad-dog or Mary-Annish. To be Mary-Annish is to behave like a girl, whimpering because nurse won't carry you, or simpering with your thumb in your mouth, and it is a hateful quality; but to be mad-dog is to kick out at everything, and there is some satisfaction in that. 

Next we come to the Hump, which is the part of the Broad Walk where all the big races are run...

 It is glorious fun racing down the Hump, but you can't do it on windy days because then you are not there, but the fallen leaves do it instead of you. There is almost nothing that has such a keen sense of fun as a fallen leaf.


They are called Paths that have Made Themselves, and David did wish he could see them doing it. But, like all the most wonderful things that happen in the Gardens, it is done, we concluded, at night after the gates are closed. We have also decided that the paths make themselves because it is their only chance of getting to the Round Pond.

They are great fighters, and thus so unlike country sheep that every year they give my St. Bernard dog, Porthos, a shock.

The Serpentine begins near here. It is a lovely lake, and there is a drowned forest at the bottom of it. If you peer over the edge you can see the trees all growing upside down, and they say that at night there are also drowned stars in it.

 A small part only of the Serpentine is in the Gardens, for soon it passes beneath a bridge to far away where the island is on which all the birds are born that become baby boys and girls. No one who is human, except Peter Pan (and he is only half human), can land on the island, but you may write what you want (boy or girl, dark or fair) on a piece of paper, and then twist it into the shape of a boat and slip it into the water, and it reaches Peter Pan's island after dark.

He was a crab-apple of an old gentleman who wandered all day in the Gardens from seat to seat trying to fall in with somebody who was acquainted with the town of Salford, and when we had known him for a year or more we actually did meet another aged solitary who had once spent Saturday to Monday in Salford.




...and the moment he saw them he entirely forgot that he was now a little boy in a nightgown, and away he flew, right over the houses to the Gardens. It is wonderful that he could fly without wings, but the place itched tremendously, and—and—perhaps we could all fly if we were as dead-confident-sure of our capacity to do it as was bold Peter Pan that evening. 


The fairies have their tiffs with the birds, but they usually give a civil answer to a civil question, and he was quite angry when these two ran away the moment they saw him.


Another was lolling on a garden chair, reading a postage-stamp which some human had let fall, and when he heard Peter's voice he popped in alarm behind a tulip.

To Peter's bewilderment he discovered that every fairy he met fled from him. A band of workmen, who were sawing down a toadstool, rushed away, leaving their tools behind them.

It was to the island that Peter now flew to put his strange case before old Solomon Caw, and he alighted on it with relief, much heartened to find himself at last at home, as the birds call the island. All of them were asleep, including the sentinels, except Solomon, who was wide awake on one side, and he listened quietly to Peter's adventures, and then told him their true meaning.

The birds on the island never got used to him. His oddities tickled them every day, as if they were quite new, though it was really the birds that were new.

Peter screamed out, 'Do it again!' and with great good-nature they did it several times, and always instead of thanking them he cried, 'Do it again!' which shows that even now he had not quite forgotten what it was to be a boy.

 At last, with a grand design burning within his brave heart, he begged them to do it once more with him clinging to the tail, and now a hundred flew off with the string, and Peter clung to the tail, meaning to drop off when he was over the Gardens.

But the kite broke to pieces in the air, and he would have been drowned in the Serpentine had he not caught hold of two indignant swans and made them carry him to the island. After this the birds said that they would help him no more in his mad enterprise. 


Shelley's boat, when opened, completely puzzled Solomon, and he took counsel of his assistants, who having walked over it twice, first with their toes pointed out, and then with their toes pointed in, decided that it came from some greedy person who wanted five. They thought this because there was a large five printed on it. 'Preposterous!' cried Solomon in a rage, and he presented it to Peter; anything useless which drifted upon the island was usually given to Peter as a plaything.

  It was a stocking belonging to some bathing person which had been cast upon the island, and at the time I speak of it contained a hundred and eighty crumbs, thirty-four nuts, sixteen crusts, a pen-wiper, and a boot-lace. When his stocking was full, Solomon calculated that he would be able to retire on a competency. Peter now gave him a pound. He cut it off his bank-note with a sharp stick.

 ...and so, when you meet grown-up people in the Gardens who puff and blow as if they thought themselves bigger than they are,...

 until he caught a favouring wind, which bore him westward, but at so great a speed that he was like to be broke against the bridge. Which, having avoided, he passed under the bridge and came, to his great rejoicing, within full sight of the delectable Gardens.

There now arose a mighty storm, accompanied by roaring of waters, such as he had never heard the like, and he was tossed this way and that, and his hands so numbed with the cold that he could not close them. Having escaped the danger of which, he was mercifully carried into a small bay, where his boat rode at peace. 

You see, he had no one to tell him how children really play, for the fairies are all more or less in hiding until dusk, and so know nothing, and though the birds pretended that they could tell him a great deal, when the time for telling came, it was wonderful how little they really knew.



Part 2: Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens by J.M. Barrie illustrated by Arthur Rackham

$
0
0

J. M. Barrie was an individual whose childhood did not end with the progression of his age or rather, arguably, ever.  Like the character of Peter Pan, he attempted to live a very whimsical life seemingly unscathed by the harsh realities of the world around him.  He tried to appear as if he was never consumed by many of the qualities of adulthood and viewed many of life’s greatest complexities in the same way that a young child would.  This could explain why his marriage to his wife reportedly persisted unconsummated or why he developed such a strong, playful relationship with the Llewelyn Davies boys. Barrie was expressing his own inner desires to live the life of Peter Pan in both Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens and later Peter and Wendy.  This could explain why the themes of endless childhood and escape persist so strongly throughout his stories.

J.M. Barrie with Llewelyn
Im deutschsprachigem Raum ist das Bild von Peter Pan stark durch Walt Disneys Film Peter Pan geprägt, wohingegen Barries Peter Pan - ein Baby, das in der Nacht durch das offene Fenster hinausfliegt und in Kensington Gardens landet - uns eher fremd ist. Peter ist fortan ein Betwixt-and-Between Wesen, ein Dazwischenling wie man ihn auf Deutsch bezeichnen könnte, ein Wesen zwischen Vogel und Kind, das nicht mehr wächst und im Neverland der Feen lebt. Ursprünglich wurde der Text von Peter Pan als Kapitel 13 - 18 von Barries Buch The Little White Bird  im Jahre 1902 publiziert. Die Geschichte ist eine halb autobiografische Phantasie eines Mannes, dessen Namen nicht genannt wird und der mit dem kleinen David befreundet ist. Er erzählt dem Bub ( und dieser ihm) die Geschichte von Peter Pan. Das Buch war aber nicht als Kinderbuch gedacht.



They (the fairies) can't resist following the children, but you seldom see them, partly because they live in the daytime behind the railings, where you are not allowed to go, and also partly because they are so cunning.


When they think you are not looking they skip along pretty lively.... 

...but if you look, and they fear there is no time to hide, they stand quite still pretending to be flowers. Then, after you have passed without knowing that they were fairies, they rush home and tell their mothers they have had such an adventure.

The fairies are exquisite dancers, and that is why one of the first things the baby does is to sign to you to dance to him and then to cry when you do it.

  They hold their great balls in the open air, in what is called a fairy ring. For weeks afterwards you can see the ring on the grass. It is not there when they begin, but they make it by waltzing round and round. Sometimes you will find mushrooms inside the ring, and these are fairy chairs that the servants have forgotten to clear away.

 Well, these tricky fairies sometimes slyly change the board on a ball night, so that it says the Gardens are to close at six-thirty, for instance, instead of at seven.

... hundreds of lovely fairies hastening to the ball, the married ones wearing their wedding rings round their waists; the gentlemen, all in uniform, holding up the ladies' trains, and linkmen running in front carrying winter cherries, which are the fairy-lanterns; the cloakroom where they put on their silver slippers and get a ticket for their wraps...



...the flowers streaming up from the Baby Walk to look on, and always welcome because they can lend a pin; the supper-table, with Queen Mab at the head of it, and behind her chair the Lord Chamberlain, who carries a dandelion on which he blows when her Majesty wants to know the time. 

The fairies sit round on mushrooms, and at first they are well-behaved and always cough off the table, and so on, but after a bit they are not so well-behaved....

... and stick their fingers into the butter, which is got from the roots of old trees, and the really horrid ones crawl over the tablecloth chasing sugar or other delicacies with their tongues.

Wallflower juice is good for reviving dancers who fall to the ground in a fit, and Solomon's seals juice is for bruises.

 They bruise very easily, and when Peter plays faster and faster they foot it till they fall down in fits. For, as you know without my telling you, Peter Pan is the fairies' orchestra. He sits in the middle of the ring, and they would never dream of having a smart dance nowadays without him.

 They all tickled him on the shoulder, and soon he felt a funny itching in that part, and then up he rose higher and higher, and flew away out of the Gardens and over the housetops.


 Everybody has heard of the Little House in the Kensington Gardens, which is the only house in the whole world that the fairies have built for humans. But no one has really seen it, except just three or four, and they have not only seen it but slept in it, and unless you sleep in it you never see it. This is because it is not there when you lie down, but it is there when you wake up and step outside.

 But they should not have talked so loudly, for one day they were overheard by a fairy who had been gathering skeleton leaves, from which the little people weave their summer curtains, and after that Tony was a marked boy.

the little people weave their summer curtains from skeleton leaves.

 This brings us to an afternoon when the Gardens were white with snow, and there was ice on the Round Pond...

...in a swell of protest against all puling cowards she ran to St. Govor's Well and hid in Tony's stead. 

There was a good deal going on in the Baby Walk, where Maimie arrived in time to see a magnolia and a Persian lilac step over the railing and set off for a smart walk. They moved in a jerky sort of way certainly, but that was because they used crutches.

  An elderberry hobbled across the walk, and stood chatting with some young quinces, and they all had crutches. The crutches were the sticks that are tied to young trees and shrubs. They were quite familiar objects to Maimie, but she had never known what they were for until to-night.

...but a chrysanthemum heard her, and said so pointedly, 'Hoity-toity, what is this?' that she had to come out and show herself. Then the whole vegetable kingdom was rather puzzled what to do.

...and she escorted them up the Baby Walk and back again, one at a time, putting an arm or a finger round the very frail, setting their leg right when it got too ridiculous, and treating the foreign ones quite as courteously as the English, though she could not understand a word they said. 

 They were now loth to let her go, for, 'If the fairies see you,' they warned her, 'they will mischief you—stab you to death, or compel you to nurse their children, or turn you into something tedious, like an evergreen oak.'

Queen Mab, who rules in the Gardens, had been confident that her girls would bewitch him, but alas! his heart, the doctor said, remained cold.

 This rather irritating doctor, who was his private physician, felt the Duke's heart immediately after any lady was presented, and then always shook his bald head and murmured, 'Cold, quite cold.'

David tells me that fairies never say, 'We feel happy': what they say is, 'We feel dancey.'

 Well, they were looking very undancey indeed,...

Then in a loud voice, and bowing low, 'My Lord Duke,' said the physician elatedly, 'I have the honour to inform your excellency that your grace is in love.'

'Build a house round her,' they cried, and at once everybody perceived that this was the thing to do; in a moment a hundred fairy sawyers were among the branches, architects were running round Maimie, measuring her; a bricklayer's yard sprang up at her feet, seventy-five masons rushed up with the foundation-stone, and the Queen laid it, overseers were appointed to keep the boys off, scaffoldings were run up, the whole place rang with hammers and chisels and turning-lathes, and by this time the roof was on and the glaziers were putting in the windows.




If the bad ones among the fairies happen to be out that night....


...they will certainly mischief you, and even though they are not, you may perish of cold and dark before Peter Pan comes round. He has been too late several times, and when he sees he is too late he runs back to the Thrush's Nest for his paddle, of which Maimie had told him the true use, and he digs a grave for the child and erects a little tombstone, and carves the poor thing's initials on it.

I think that quite the most touching sight in the Gardens is the two tombstones of Walter Stephen Matthews and Phoebe Phelps. They stand together at the spot where the parish of Westminster St. Mary's is said to meet the Parish of Paddington. Here Peter found the two babes, who had fallen unnoticed from their perambulators, Phoebe aged thirteen months and Walter probably still younger, for Peter seems to have felt a delicacy about putting any age on his stone. They lie side by side...



W. W. Denslow: Pictures for The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum, Part 1

$
0
0
William Wallace "W. W." Denslow (May 25, 1856 – May 27, 1915) was an American illustrator and caricaturist remembered for his work in collaboration with author L.Frank Baum, especially his illustrations ofThe Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Denslow was an editorial cartoonist with a strong interest in politics, which has fueled political interpretation of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.
Denslow was born in Philadelphia, but by the 1890's had moved to Chicago where he met L. Frank Baum. They first connected professionally in 1898, when Baum used Denslow illustrations for his trade journal The Show Window. In the same year, Denslow contributed two pen-and-ink sketches to Baum's By the Candelabra's Glare.
The two next collaborated on Father Goose, His Book before working together to create The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. The next year they published Dot and Tot of Merryland, but their partnership quickly dissolved after disagreements over a stage production of The Wizard of Oz. (Wikia)
 Title Page
 This picture of the Tim Woodman appeared on the copyright page of the first edition.






She caught Toto by the ear.






I am the Witch of the North






you must be a great sourceress.


Dorothy gazed thoughtfully at the scarecrow.




"I was only made yesterday", said the Scarecrow





"This is a great comfort," said the Tin Woodman.





Warwick Goble Illustrations for Folk-Tales of Bengal

$
0
0
We have already shown several books illustrated by Warwick Goble. Here, an other beautiful work by Warwick Goble!

In my Peasant Life in Bengal I make the peasant boy Govinda spend some hours every evening in listening to stories told by an old woman, who was called Sambhu's mother, and who was the best story-teller in the village. On reading that passage. Captain R. C. Temple, of the Bengal Staff Corps, son of the distinguished Indian administrator Sir Richard Temple, wrote to me to say how interesting it would be to get a collection of those unwritten stories which old women in India recite to little children in the evenings, and to ask whether I could not make such a collection. (Lal Behari Day).


 She rushed out of the palace ... and came to the upper world.
Frontispiece


 The Suo queen went to the door with a handful of rice

The prince revived, and, walking about, saw a human figure near the gate.

She took up the jewel in her hand, left the palace, and
successfully reached the upper world.

He rushed out of his hiding-place and killed the serpent.

Instead of sweetmeats about a score of demons.

At the door of which stood a lady of exquisite beauty.

In a trice she woke up, sat up in her bed, and eyeing the
stranger, inquired who he was.

The Girl of the Wall-Almirah

On a sudden an elephant gorgeously caparisoned shot across his path.

They then set out on their journey.

A monstrous bird comes out apparently from the palace.

Hundreds of peacocks of gorgeous plumes came to the embankments to eat the khai.

You would adorn the palace of the mightiest sovereign.

He saw a beautiful woman coming out of the palace.

Husband, take up all this large quantity of gold and these precious stones!

They ran away in great fear, leaving behind them the money and jewels.

The camel-driver alighted, tied the camel to a tree on the spot, and began smoking.

How is it that you have returned so soon ? 

At dawn he used to cull flowers in the forest.

The Brahman's wife had occasion to go to the tank, and as she went she brushed by a Sankchinni.

The moment the first stroke was given, a great many ghosts rushed towards the Brahman.

The lady, king, and hiraman all reached the king's capital safe and sound.

What princess ever puts only one ruby in her hair?

Coming up to the surface they climbed into the boat.

The jackal . . . opened his bundle of betel-leaves, put some into his mouth, and began chewing them.

A bright light, like that of the moon, was seen shining on his forehead.

The six queens tried to comfort him.

Now, barber, I am going to destroy you. Who will protect you?

They approached a magnificent pile of buildings.

Thus the princess was deserted.

When she got out of the water, what a change was seen in her !

Willem Gerard Hofker - Women of Bali

Christopher Wormell: Pictures for Rudyard Kipling's Mowgli's Brothers

$
0
0
Christopher Wormell, born 1955 in Gainsborough, is a British artist who has used his expertise in linoleum block print to create animal illustrations for several concept books geared for young children. Interestingly, Wormell had no formal training as an artist, and before his first book was published, his work experience included jobs as a road-sweeper, garbage man, postman, and a factory worker. He began pursuing art by painting landscapes between jobs, and in 1982, he picked up wood engraving by buying a set of tools and teaching himself. Eventually creating a portfolio of works that captured the interest of publishers, Wormell was hired to create wood engravings for books of poetry and guides to wine. More recently, he also began creating artwork for children; according to a writer for the Art Works Web site,"it was in reading to his own children that Wormell became acutely aware of the needs of a good story book—illustrations every three or four pages, well integrated with the plot."


He has published some 14 illustrated books and acted as illustrator of other's work on at least 18 more. These include Mowgli's Brothers, Blue Rabbit and Friends, Blue Rabbit and the Runaway Wheel, Animal Train, Off to the Fair, and George and the Dragon. In 1993 Two Frogs won a Smarties bronze medal.
Rudyard Kipling, Mowgli's Brothers appeared by Creative Editions (Mankato, MN) in 1992.

Die deutsche Ausgabe erschien 1994 im Verlag Sauerländer, Aarau, Frankfurt a.M., Salzburg.


Frontispiz, Frontispiece

Es war sieben Uhr an einem warmen Abend in den Seeonee-Hügeln, als Vater Wolf von seiner Tagesrast erwachte, sich kratzte, gähnte und seine Pfoten eine nach der anderen ausstreckte, um das schläfrige Gefühl in den Spitzen loszuwerden.
It was seven o'clock of a very warm evening in the Seeonee hills when Father Wolf woke up from his day's rest, scratched himself, yawned, and spread out his paws one after the other to get rid of the sleepy feeling in the tips. 

Es war der Schakal - Tabaqui-, und indiens Wölfe verachteten Tabaqui, weil er geschwäzig herumläuft, Unfug und Unheil anrichtet und Lumpen und Lederstücke von den Abfallhaufen der Dörfer frisst.

It was the jackal—Tabaqui, the Dish-licker—and the wolves of India despise Tabaqui because he runs about making mischief, and telling tales, and eating rags and pieces of leather from the village rubbish-heaps.

"Shere Khan der Grosse hat seine Jagdgründe verlegt. Den nächsten Mond über wird er in diesen Hügeln hier jagen, das hat er mir jedenfalls gesagt." Shere Khan war der Tiger, der nahe dem Waingunga-Fluss lebte, zwanzig Meilen entfernt.
"Shere Khan, the Big One, has shifted his hunting-grounds. He will hunt among these hills during the next moon, so he has told me."
Shere Khan was the tiger who lived near the Waingunga River, twenty miles away.

"Wie klein! Wie nackt, und - wie mutig!" sagte Mutter Wolf leise. Der Kleine wühlte sich zwischen den Wölflingen hindurch, um nahe ans warme Fell zu kommen. "Ahai! Er nimmt mit den anderen sein Mahl ein. Das ist also ein Menschenjunges. Sag, hat sich je eine Wölfin rühmen können, ein Menschenjunges unter ihren Kindern zu haben?"
"How little! How naked, and—how bold!" said Mother Wolf, softly. The baby was pushing his way between the cubs to get close to the warm hide. "Ahai! He is taking his meal with the others. And so this is a man's cub. Now, was there ever a wolf that could boast of a man's cub among her children?"


Shere Khan war ins Lagerfeuer eines Holzfällers gesprungen, wie Vater Wolf gesagt hatte, und er war wütend wegen der Schmerzen in seinen verbrannten Füssen.
Shere Khan had jumped at a wood-cutter's camp-fire, as Father Wolf had said, and was furious from the pain of his burned feet.

Vater Wolf wartete, bis seine Jungen ein wenig laufen konnten, und in der Nacht des Rudeltreffens brachte er dann sie und Mowgli und Mutter Wolf zum Ratsfelsen - einer mit Steinen und Blöcken bedeckten Hügelkuppe -, wo sich hundert Wölfe verbergen konnten.
Father Wolf waited till his cubs could run a little, and then on the night of the Pack Meeting took them and Mowgli and Mother Wolf to the Council Rock—a hilltop covered with stones and boulders where a hundred wolves could hide.

Da erhob sich das einzige andere Geschöpf, das im Rudelrat zugelassen ist - Baloo, der schläfrige braune Bär, der die Wolfsjungen das Gesetz des Dschungels lehrt.der alte Baloo, der kommen und gehen darf, wie es ihm gefällt, denn er isst nur Nüsse und Wurzeln und Honig, setzte sich auf die Hinterbeine und knurrte.

Then the only other creature who is allowed at the Pack Council—Baloo, the sleepy brown bear who teaches the wolf cubs the Law of the Jungle; old Baloo, who can come and go where he pleases because he eats only nuts and roots and honey—rose up on his hind quarters and grunted.

Ein schwarzer Schatten tropfte in den Kreis hinab. Es war Bagheera, der schwarze Panther, tintenschwarz über und über, aber mit der Leopardenzeichnung, die bei bestimmtem Licht  wie das Muster gewässerter Seide aufleuchtete.
A black shadow dropped down into the circle. It was Bagheera, the Black Panther, inky black all over, but with the panther markings showing up in certain lights like the pattern of watered silk.

Mowgli war noch immer zutiefst interessiert an den Kieseln und bemerkte nichts, als die Wölfe nacheinander kamen und ihn musterten
Mowgli was still playing with the pebbles, and he did not notice when the wolves came and looked at him one by one.

Bei anderen Gelegenheiten zog er die langen Dornen aus den Ballen seiner Freunde, denn an Dornen und Kletten im Fell leiden Wölfe schrecklich.
At other times he would pick the long thorns out of the pads of his friends, for wolves suffer terribly from thorns and burs in their coats.




It was one very warm day that a new notion came to Bagheera—born of something that he had heard. Perhaps Ikki, the Porcupine, had told him; but he said to Mowgli when they were deep in the jungle, as the boy lay with his head on Bagheera's beautiful black skin: "Little Brother, how often have I told thee that Shere Khan is thy enemy?"
"As many times as there are nuts on that palm," said Mowgli, who, naturally, could not count. "What of it? I am sleepy, Bagheera, and Shere Khan is all long tail and loud talk, like Mao, the Peacock."

"Keiner im Dschungel weiss, dass ich Bagheera, dieses Mal trage - das Mal des Halsrings, aber es stimmt, kleiner Bruder: ich bin unter Menschen geboren, und unter Menschen ist meine Mutter gestorben - in den Käfigen des Königspalasts in Udaipur.
"There is no one in the jungle that knows that I, Bagheera, carry that mark—the mark of the collar; and yet, Little Brother, I was born among men, and it was among men that my mother died—in the cages of the King's Palace at Oodeypore...

"Sie sind mir sehr ähnlich", sagte Mowgli, er blies in den Korb, wie er es von der Frau gesehen hatte. "Dieses Ding wird sterben, wenn ich ihm nichts zu essen gebe", er warf Zweige und trockene Borke auf den roten Stoff. Auf halber Höhe des Hügelhangs traf er Bagheera, in seinem Fell glitzerte Morgentau wie Mondsteine.

"They are very like me," said Mowgli, blowing into the pot, as he had seen the woman do. "This thing will die if I do not give it things to eat"; and he dropped twigs and dried bark on the red stuff. Half-way up the hill he met Bagheera with the morning dew shining like moonstones on his coat.

Diesen ganzen Tag sass Mowgli in der Höhle, kümmerte sich um seinen Feuertopf und tauchte trockene Zweige hinein, um zu sehen, was mit ihnen geschah.
All that day Mowgli sat in the cave tending his fire-pot and dipping dry branches into it to see how they looked.
Akela, der einsame Wolf, lag neben seinem Felsen, als Zeichen dafür, dass die Führung des Rudels offen war,... 
Akela the Lone Wolf lay by the side of his rock as a sign that the leadership of the Pack was open,...

...und Shere Khan mit seiner Gefolgschaft von abfallfressenden Wölfen wanderte ganz offen hin und her und wurde umschmeichelt.
...and Shere Khan with his following of scrap-fed wolves walked to and fro openly, being flattered.

"Du bist der Herr", sagte Bagheera leise. "Rette Akela vor dem Tod. Er ist immer dein Freund gewesen. Akela, der grimme alte Wolf, der in seinem Leben nie um Gnade gebeten hatte, warf Mowgli einen kläglichen Blick zu, als der Junge ganz nackt da stand, das lange Haar über die Schultern, im Licht des lodernden Asts, das die Schatten zanzen und zittern liess.
"Thou art the master," said Bagheera, in an undertone. "Save Akela from the death. He was ever thy friend."
Akela, the grim old wolf who had never asked for mercy in his life, gave one piteous look at Mowgli as the boy stood all naked, his long black hair tossing over his shoulders in the light of the blazing branch that made the shadows jump and quiver.

Shere Kahns Ohren legten sich flach an den Kopf, und er schloss die Augen, denn der flammende Ast war sehr nahe.
Shere Khan's ears lay flat back on his head, and he shut his eyes, for the blazing branch was very near.

Der Morge brach bereits an, als Mowgli allein den Hügel hinabging, um jenen rätselhaften Wesen zu begegnen, die Menschen genannt werden.
The dawn was beginning to break when Mowgli went down the hillside alone to the crops to meet those mysterious things that are called men.

Mowglis Brüder ist das erste Kapitel des Dschungelbuches.
Viewing all 756 articles
Browse latest View live