It's not that I haven't WANTED to post. It's that I can't stop working. Two jobs, each in software (be happy one is not air traffic controller), and there just isn't a lot of brain space available at the end of the day. But the kids are away on vacation with their mom, so instead of going to bed at a decent hour all week, I started a new story.
I was all prepared to do a setting of several very small, and very beautiful stories from an unexpected source. But I've been working too hard, to do an emotional piece just now. So beauty will have to wait: this story isn't about your heartstrings. It's just a great yarn.
It's from Norway. My sister tells me she remembers reading the story in a book, when we were kids. I don't remember, but I'm sure she's right - she has a steel-trap memory for words and stories. I found it at the public library, in a collection published in the 1960's, and was able to work back to a public domain source in The Blue Fairy Book by Andrew Lang (Longmans, Green and Co., London, 1889). As always, it's all armchair research - I do love Google, yes I do.
And I love this story. I hope you do too.
I.
One frozen Christmas, centuries ago,
A man who'd always had to beg to eat
Went visiting his brother in the snow,
In boots that barely covered up his feet.
His brother was a miser, and the wealth
That filled his house was something to behold.
The poorer man, in miserable health,
Approached his brother's doorway, in the cold,
To ask if he could spare a little bread,
Or cheese, or meat, to have a Christmas meal.
The brother opened up the door and said,
"It's you again? What tiresome appeal
"Has got you begging, darkening my door,
And asking me again for more, and more?"
The man replied, "A little bit to eat,
For Christmas then? Perhaps a scrap of meat?"
The brother asked, "Why don't you go away?
No, wait - will you do anything I say
If I give you a ham for Christmas day?"
"A ham? Well, I'd do anything at all!"
The miser said, "Then go. To Dead Man's Hall!"
To Dead Man's Hall? That place? On Christmas, too?
But there was nothing he could say, or do.
End of Part I. Go to Part II.
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Alysa Salzberg
Melissa Miles McCarter
Scarlett Sumac
jlsathre
Matt Paust
Jowita Bydlowska
Salon.com
Comments
To tempt a hungry poor man's eyes,
To send him on a trip of dread
Where horrors lurk in halls of dead.
What could be in the rich man's mind
To prompt a journey so unkind?
I am continually amazed by how easy you make this look. You're quite the talent, sir.
this speaks to me, in echoes, and I'm ready to follow
Oh, and about Dead Man’s Hall. The original story is a little light in its treatment. I guess there’s a reason Dante wasn’t Norwegian.
catch – yes, a yarn about salt. Don’t lose the thread.
trilogy – I think it’s genetic. It’s something I’ve heard all my life. And I have missed YOU a great deal.
Candace – well, it’s not exactly the um, tiniest bit. You know. Not tiny. It just pushes bedtime back a little further. But if you keep coming back, then I’ll stay up and write.
Jan – hey, why aren’t YOU doing this?
Pilgrim – I really can’t think of a nicer compliment. Thank you. And as to jumping in – your single comment on my last story (“But he didn’t get any answers to the first three questions, it seems”) has me on my toes to keep the story sharp and clear. And I’m trying to pare things down a little more, than in the last two. There’s a reason for all this, I hope.
hugs – it’s funny, I’m not on a quest for stories that teach us anything, really. I think it’s inverted – I’m looking for stories that are screaming for me to try my hand at them. Maybe those are the stories that just made great storytelling in the first place.
Matt – No clues! No clues! You gotta stay with it! And buy this $5 bag of popcorn for each episode!
anna1 – oh gosh, you make me want to spill the beans. But no! No clues! No clues!
vanessa – Did you say Kenya? I haven’t found anything I like from Africa yet. Can you PM me some suggestions?
Thank you all, again and again. Okay, gotta go work on the next one! (I’m writing roughly 3 days ahead of posting. I know how it ends… nyah, nyah NYAH nyah… nyah…)