Tanglewood Tales: Greek Myths for Kids (Xist Classics), by Nathaniel Hawthorne
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Tanglewood Tales: Greek Myths for Kids (Xist Classics), by Nathaniel Hawthorne
Download PDF Ebook Online Tanglewood Tales: Greek Myths for Kids (Xist Classics), by Nathaniel Hawthorne
The Greatest Greek Myths Retold for Children
"Dear mother," said Proserpina, "I shall be very lonely while you are away. May I not run down to the shore, and ask some of the sea nymphs to come up out of the waves and play with me?" "Yes, child," answered Mother Ceres. "The sea nymphs are good creatures, and will never lead you into any harm. But you must take care not to stray away from them, nor go wandering about the fields by yourself. Young girls, without their mothers to take care of them, are very apt to get into mischief." ―Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Tanglewood Tales
Tanglewood Tales is Nathaniel Hawthorne's retelling of a collection of Greek myths for children. The Greek Myths that are in this collection are: the story of the Minotaur, Antaeus, Dragon's Teeth, Circe's Palace, Proserpina, Ceres, Pluto and Pomegranate, and Jason and the Golden Fleece. This Xist Classics edition has been professionally formatted for e-readers with a linked table of contents. This ebook also contains a bonus book club leadership guide and discussion questions. We hope you’ll share this book with your friends, neighbors and colleagues and can’t wait to hear what you have to say about it.
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Tanglewood Tales: Greek Myths for Kids (Xist Classics), by Nathaniel Hawthorne- Amazon Sales Rank: #642101 in eBooks
- Published on: 2015-05-15
- Released on: 2015-05-15
- Format: Kindle eBook
About the Author Born in 1804, Nathaniel Hawthorne is known for his historical tales and novels about American colonial society. After publishing The Scarlet Letter in 1850, its status as an instant bestseller allowed him to earn a living as a novelist. Full of dark romanticism, psychological complexity, symbolism, and cautionary tales, his work is still popular today. He has earned a place in history as one of the most distinguished American writers of the nineteenth century.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Tanglewood Tales For Girls and BoysThe WaysideINTRODUCTORYA short time ago, I was favored with a flying visit from my young friend Eustace Bright, whom I had not before met with since quitting the breezy mountains of Berkshire. It being the winter vacation at his college, Eustace was allowing himself a little relaxation, in the hope, he told me, of repairing the inroads which severe application to study had made upon his health; and I was happy to conclude, from the excellent physical condition in which I saw him, that the remedy had already been attended with very desirable success. He had now run up from Boston by the noon train, partly impelled by the friendly regard with which he is pleased to honor me, and partly, as I soon found, on a matter of literary business.It delighted me to receive Mr. Bright, for the first time, under a roof, though a very humble one, which I could really call my own. Nor did I fail (as is the custom of landed proprietors all about the world) to parade the poor fellow up and down over my half a dozen acres; secretly rejoicing, nevertheless, that the disarray of the inclement season, and particularly the six inches of snow then upon theground, prevented him from observing the ragged neglect of soil and shrubbery into which the place has lapsed. It was idle, however, to imagine that an airy guest from Monument Mountain, Bald-Summit, and old Graylock, shaggy with primeval forests, could see anything to admire in my poor little hill-side, with its growth of frail and insect-eaten locust-trees. Eustace very frankly called the view from my hill-top tame; and so, no doubt, it was, after rough, broken, rugged, headlong Berkshire, and especially the northern parts of the county, with which his college residence had made him familiar. But to me there is a peculiar, quiet charm in these broad meadows and gentle eminences. They are better than mountains, because they do not stamp and stereotype themselves into the brain, and thus grow wearisome with the same strong impression, repeated day after day. A few summer weeks among mountains, a lifetime among green meadows and placid slopes, with outlines forever new, because continually fading out of the memory,--such would be my sober choice.I doubt whether Eustace did not internally pronounce the whole thing a bore, until I led him to my predecessor's little ruined, rustic summer-house, midway on the hill-side. It is a mere skeleton of slender, decaying tree-trunks, with neither walls nor a roof; nothing but a tracery of branches and twigs, which the next wintry blast will be very likely to scatter in fragments along the terrace. It looks, and is, as evanescent as a dream; and yet, in its rustic net-work of boughs, it has somehow enclosed a hint of spiritual beauty, and has become a true emblem of the subtile and ethereal mind that planned it. I made Eustace Bright sit down on a snow-bank, which had heaped itself over the mossy seat, and gazing through the arched window opposite, he acknowledged that the scene at once grew picturesque."Simple as it looks," said he, "this little edifice seems to be the work of magic. It is full of suggestiveness, and, in its way, is as good as a cathedral. Ah, it would be just the spot for one to sit in, of a summer afternoon, and tell the children some more of those wild stories from the classic myths!""It would, indeed," answered I. "The summer-house itself, so airy and so broken, is like one of those old tales, imperfectly remembered; and these living branches of the Baldwin apple-tree, thrusting themselves so rudely in, are like your unwarrantable interpolations. But, by the by, have you added any more legends to the series, since the publication of the Wonder Book?""Many more," said Eustace; "Primrose, Periwinkle, and the rest of them allow me no comfort of my life, unless I tell them a story every day or two. I have run away from home partly to escape the importunity of those little wretches! But I have written out six of the new stories, and have brought them for you to look over.""Are they as good as the first?" I inquired."Better chosen, and better handled," replied Eustace Bright. "You will say so when you read them.""Possibly not," I remarked. "I know, from my own experience, that an author's last work is always his best one, in his own estimate, until it quite loses the red heat of composition. After that, it falls into its true place, quietly enough. But let us adjourn to my study, and examine these new stories. It would hardly be doing yourself justice, were you to bring me acquainted with them, sitting here on this snowbank!"So we descended the hill to my small, old cottage, and shut ourselves up in the southeastern room, where the sunshine comes in, warmly and brightly, through the better half of a winter's day. Eustace put his bundle of manuscript into my hands; and I skimmed through it pretty rapidly, trying to find out its merits and demerits by the touch of my fingers, as a veteran story-teller ought to know how to do.It will be remembered, that Mr. Bright condescended to avail himself of my literary experience by constituting me editor of the Wonder Book. As he had no reason to complain of the reception of that erudite work by the public, he was now disposed to retain me in a similar position, with respect to the present volume, which he entitled "TANGLEWOOD TALES." Not, as Eustace hinted, that therewas any real necessity for my services as introductor, inasmuch as his own name had become established, in some good degree of favor, with the literary world. But the connection with myself, he was kind enough to say, had been highly agreeable; nor was he by any means desirous, as most people are, of kicking away the ladder that had perhaps helped him to reach his present elevation. My young friend was willing, in short, that the fresh verdure of his growing reputation should spread over my straggling and half-naked boughs; even as I have sometimes thought of training a vine, with its broad leafiness, and purple fruitage, over the worm-eaten posts and rafters of the rustic summer-house. I was not insensible to the advantages of his proposal, and gladly assured him of my acceptance.Merely from the titles of the stories, I saw at once that the subjects were not less rich than those of the former volume; nor did I at all doubt that Mr. Bright's audacity (so far as that endowment might avail) had enabled him to take full advantage of whatever capabilities they offered. Yet, in spite of my experience of his free way of handling them, I did not quite see, I confess, how he could have obviated all the difficulties in the way of rendering them presentable to children. These old legends, so brimming over with everything that is most abhorrent to our Christianized moral sense,--some of them so hideous, others so melancholy and miserable, amid which the Greek tragedians sought their themes, and moulded them into the sternest forms of grief that ever the world saw; was such material the stuff that children's playthings should be made of! How were they to be purified? How was the blessed sunshine to be thrown into them?But Eustace told me that these myths were the most singular things in the world, and that he was invariably astonished, whenever he began to relate one, by the readiness with which it adapted itself to the childish purity of his auditors. The objectionable characteristics seem to be a parasitical growth, having no essential connection with the original fable. They fall away, and are thought of no more, the instant he puts his imagination in sympathy with theinnocent little circle, whose wide-open eyes are fixed so eagerly upon him. Thus the stories (not by any strained effort of the narrator's, but in harmony with their inherent germ) transform themselves, and reassume the shapes which they might be supposed to possess in the pure childhood of the world. When the first poet or romancer told these marvellous legends (such is Eustace Bright's opinion), it was still the Golden Age. Evil had never yet existed; and sorrow, misfortune, crime, were mere shadows which the mind fancifully created for itself, as a shelter against too sunny realities; or, at most, but prophetic dreams, to which the dreamer himself did not yield a waking credence. Children are now the only representatives of the men and women of that happy era; and therefore it is that we must raise the intellect and fancy to the level of childhood, in order to re-create the original myths.I let the youthful author talk as much and as extravagantly as he pleased, and was glad to see him commencing life with such confidence in himself and his performances. A few years will do all that is necessary towards showing him the truth in both respects. Meanwhile, it is but right to say, he does really appear to have overcome the moral objections against these fables, although at the expense of such liberties with their structure as must be left to plead their own excuse, without any help from me. Indeed, except that there was a necessity for it,--and that the inner life of the legends cannot be come at save by making them entirely one's own property,--there is no defence to be made.Eustace informed me that he had told his stories to the children in various situations,--in the woods, on the shore of the lake, in the dell of Shadow Brook, in the play-room, at Tanglewood fireside, and in a magnificent palace of snow, with ice windows, which he helped his little friends to build. His auditors were even more delighted with the contents of the present volume than with the specimens which have already been given to the world. The classically learned Mr. Pringle, too, had listened to two or three of the tales, and censured them even more bitterly than hedid THE THREE GOLDEN APPLES: so that, what with praise, and what with criticism, Eustace Bright thinks that there is good hope of at least as much success with the public as in the case of the Wonder Book.I made all sorts of inquiries about the children, not doubting that there would be great eagerness to hear of their welfare among some good little folks who have written to me, to ask for another volume of myths. They are all, I am happy to say (unless we except Clover), in excellent health and spirits. Primrose is now almost a young lady, and, Eustace tells me, is just as saucy as ever. She pretends to consider herself quite beyond the age to be interested by such idle stories as these; but, for all that, whenever a story is to be told, Primrose never fails to be one of the listeners, and to make fun of it when finished. Periwinkle is very much grown, and is expected to shut up her baby-house and throw away her doll in a month or two more. Sweet Fern has learned to read and write, and has put on a jacket and pair of pantaloons,--all of which improvements I am sorry for. Squash-Blossom, Blue Eye, Plantain, and Buttercup have had the scarlet fever, but came easily through it. Huckleberry, Milkweed, and Dandelion were attacked with the whooping-cough, but bore it bravely, and kept out of doors whenever the sun shone. Cowslip, during the autumn, had either the measles, or some eruption that looked very much like it, but was hardly sick a day. Poor Clover has been a good deal troubled with her second teeth, which have made her meagre in aspect and rather fractious in temper; nor, even when she smiles, is the matter much mended, since it discloses a gap just within her lips, almost as wide as the barn door. But all this will pass over, and it is predicted that she will turn out a very pretty girl.As for Mr. Bright himself, he is now in his senior year at Williams College, and has a prospect of graduating with some degree of honorable distinction at the next Commencement. In his oration for the bachelor's degree, he gives me to understand, he will treat of the classical myths, viewed in the aspect of baby stories, and has agreat mind to discuss the expediency of using up the whole of ancient history for the same purpose. I do not know what he means to do with himself after leaving college, but trust that, by dabbling so early with the dangerous and seductive business of authorship, he will not be tempted to become an author by profession. If so, I shall be very sorry for the little that I have had to do with the matter, in encouraging these first beginnings.I wish there were any likelihood of my soon seeing Primrose, Periwinkle, Dandelion, Sweet Fern, Clover, Plantain, Huckleberry, Milkweed, Cowslip, Buttercup, Blue Eye, and Squash-Blossom again. But as I do not know when I shall revisit Tanglewood, and as Eustace Bright probably will not ask me to edit a third Wonder Book, the public of little folks must not expect to hear any more about those dear children from me. Heaven bless them, and everybody else, whether grown people or children!THE WAYSIDE, CONCORD, MASS,March 13, 1853.All new material copyright © 1999 by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
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20 of 20 people found the following review helpful. At 79 y/o and remember this book vividly from childhood. By A Customer A wonderful collection of tales for children, however, the edition available from amazon does not have the wonderful illustrations which did so much to enhance the stories. Try to get the old version.
14 of 14 people found the following review helpful. Six wondrous tales from Greek mythology, marred by inferior binding and paper quality By Z Hayes My first Calla Edition was Tales of Mystery and Imagination by Edgar Allan Poe. It is a work of extraordinary beauty and I've been collecting the various titles issued by Calla Editions since. Here's what I've noted: The quality of each Calla Edition up to 2011 is superior in terms of binding, paper quality, the illustrations, and content. These Calla Editions are a must-have in every collector's library and will bring great pleasure to bibliophiles. The Calla Editions printed in and prior to 2011 were printed in the United States and are of stellar quality, whereas those printed in 2012 onwards were manufactured in China, and the change in quality is noticeable - the bindings look and feel cheap, and do not hold up well (I own two of these inferior Calla Editions), the paper is thick yet not as creamy or smooth like the previous editions, and the illustrations do not feel glossy either. So buyers of the later (2012 and after) editions might want to be aware of this.The binding on this title "Tanglewood Tales" is inferior. It scuffs easily and does not have the glossy leather like finish of previous Calla editions. Unlike Calla editions of 2011 and earlier, the paper here is 150 gsm Chinese Premium paper 1.3 and is bound in Wibalin. The earlier Calla editions were printed on high quality Utopian ivory paper. Even though the paper in this edition is thick, it lacks the smooth finish of earlier Calla editions. This shows especially in the illustrations which lack the smooth, glossy finish of earlier editions.Despite its flaws, I gave this edition three stars because I love the six stories from Greek mythology included here, i.e. The Minotaur, The Pygmies, The Dragon's Teeth, Circe's Palace, The Pomegranate Seeds, and The Golden Fleece. The 22 illustrations by Virginia Frances Sterrett include both color and black and white illustrations which are exquisite. I just wish the publishers had not skimped on the quality of the binding and paper.
11 of 13 people found the following review helpful. More Greek myths that "raise the intellect and fancy to the level of childhood" By D. Cloyce Smith In 1853 Hawthorne followed up the moderate success of his first collection of children's stories with "Tanglewood Tales for Girls and Boys, Being a Second Wonder Book." Like the first "Wonder Book," this volume gathers six more Greek myths rendered "presentable to children."In the process, the author strips away "everything that is most abhorrent to our Christianized moral sense," not the least of which is anything that might imply that the Greek gods are, well, gods. On the one hand, it's hard to agree with Hawthorne's argument that "the objectionable characteristics seem to be a parasitic growth, having no connection with the original fable." On the other hand, the six bowdlerized stories, like the predecessors still "raise the intellect and fancy to the level of childhood, in order to re-create the original myths." In recasting these tales, then, Hawthorne has made something new and rather glorious out of them.The stories as a group are not as well-known to young readers as those in the earlier volume. You'll find the Minotaur and the labyrinth, as well as Jason and the Golden Fleece. But there are also Hercules and the Pygmies, Cadmus and the famous dragon's teeth (which have inspired as many literary references as they had spawned soldiers), Ulysses and the sorcery of Circe (book 10 of "The Odyssey"), and the abduction (sans rape) of Proserpina by Pluto.Gone are the interludes found in the earlier volume that described a horde of precocious neighborhood children encouraging and teasing their young narrator, Eustace Bright. Instead, Hawthorne presents them as polished manuscripts that had been honed and approved by the children, who are "even more delighted with the contents of the present volume than with the specimens which have already been given to the world." The stories are wondrous, in no small part because they are not as familiar. One drawback, however--as a cursory examination of the six subjects hints--is that each tale carries on a bit about the journeys that lead to the adventure; some children might feel these stories feature less action and more questing. But they are still loads of fun, and great for kids of all ages.
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