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Flucht ins Feenland. (1926)

von Hope Mirrlees

Weitere Autoren: Siehe Abschnitt Weitere Autoren.

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1,656448,108 (3.92)1 / 122
The book that New York Times bestselling author Neil Gaiman considers "one of the finest [fantasy novels] in the English language." Between the mountains and the sea, between the sea and Fairyland, lay the Free State of Dorimare and its picturesque capital, Lud-in-the-Mist. No Luddite ever had any truck with fairies or Fairyland. Bad business, those fairies. The people of Dorimare had run them out generations ago--and the Duke of Dorimare along with them. Until the spring of his fiftieth year, Master Nathaniel Chanticleer, Mayor of Lud-in-the-Mist and High Seneschal of Dorimare, had lived a sleepy life with his only son, Ranulph. But as he grew, Ranulph was more and more fond of talking nonsense about golden cups, and snow-white ladies milking azure cows, and the sound of tinkling bridles at midnight. And when Ranulph was twelve, he got caught up with the fairies, and Nathaniel's life would never be the same.… (mehr)
Kürzlich hinzugefügt vonNicky24, imagists, dscottn, NeilJTaylor, LadyLudovica, dewkey1
NachlassbibliothekenC. S. Lewis
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Great work, creating historical folk tales for a fictional world, where fairies and magic are banned and policed. This is a tale that could have been written centuries earlier, or indeed later, and yet it still could have been penned today. I appreciated the cover design of this edition Tomias Almeida that subtly reflected the story. Hope Mirrlees used her knowledge of natural history many times describing the landscapes, and her knowledge of folk tales to piece together a finely structured plot. I can understand why Neil Gaiman recommended this book. ( )
  AChild | Jun 8, 2021 |
Like many others, I sought this out based on Neil Gaiman's high praise for it. Also like many others, as I began it, I thought it had the feel of Susannah Clarke's wondrous [b: Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell|14201|Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell|Susanna Clarke|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1357027589l/14201._SY75_.jpg|3921305], which I love. Written in 1926, it perhaps skews a bit old-fashioned in style and tone - but as someone who happily reads most anything from Jane Austen on, that shouldn't trouble me, and the vaguely 17th-century-like setting allows for a deliberately archaic flavor. But somehow this just didn't work for me.

One problem was the characters. They have cute, colorful names, but rather colorless personalities - unless invested with some heavy-handed trait like red hair, bright eyes, or catchphrases ("Ho-ho-HOH!"). I was briefly interested in poor Ranulph, who sobs, screams, and goes into hysterics easily, poor child - but then runs away, vanishes into fairyland, then reappears, fully functional and happy-ever-after. Plotting is another problem - people "suddenly remember" things, other people willingly pour out terrible stories of plots and trauma to total strangers, having never talked about them before. Huh? And oh, by the way, this guy turns out to be that guy who knew all about this - fancy that! There's some pleasant world-building of history, traditions, and customs - the silent fair is rather evocative, and for some reason I loved the name of the "Debatable Hills." It just all felt rather carpentered, and not very well. Nothing felt inevitable, incidents seemed more random than organic, and then resolved by the decision to open the gates... and they all lived happily ever after.

I admire Neil Gaiman very much - as a person, a supporter of libraries and other laudable causes, and as a writer (sometimes: I loved [b: Coraline|17061|Coraline|Neil Gaiman|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1493497435l/17061._SY75_.jpg|2834844], [b: The Ocean at the End of the Lane |15783514|The Ocean at the End of the Lane|Neil Gaiman|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1497098563l/15783514._SY75_.jpg|21500681], and [b: The Graveyard Book|2213661|The Graveyard Book|Neil Gaiman|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1531295292l/2213661._SY75_.jpg|2219449]...others, not so much). But somehow his enthusiasms for other writers (like [a: Diana Wynne Jones|4260|Diana Wynne Jones|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1597798776p2/4260.jpg] - and I am a thorough-going dog person!) often don't chime with mine. This is one of those times. ( )
  JulieStielstra | May 17, 2021 |
Hatte mehr - oder anderes - von dem Buch erwartet. Man muss wohl bedenken, dass es von 1926 stammt, also aus einer Zeit vor der gängigen Fantasy-Literatur. Als Vorfahre von Autoren wie zB. Neil Gaiman (Stardust) aber unbedingt lesenswert. ( )
  MrKillick-Read | Apr 4, 2021 |
One of those classics that you should read as underpinning so much of what has followed, and unusually for such a book it's actually pretty good in it's own right. LitM is the main town of a small country bordered on side by Fairy, at least as village elders would have it, and no-one who's strayed beyond the marshes and into the Hills has ever returned. 200 years ago the land was comfortable with the Fairy influence, but the tradespeople rose up in rebellion for rules of law and equity and the Fairy influence was overthrown and a new Mayor installed instead of the Duke.

These days the office is mostly ceremonial and Nathaniel is quite comfy with his fine wines and high society friends, even if both he and his son occasionally suffer from bouts of paranoia and hysteria over wrought influences from the artistic effects around them. When the son becomes particularly troubled, Nathaniel consults with the curious low-town doctor and the decide to send the son to the country, it happens the doctor knows a smallholding in good standing despite being close to the borders of Fairy. Nathaniel has always had his doubts about the dr, and soon his suspicions are raised regarding some of the other notable characters around town, and despite the militia's good efforts it seems than the pernicious Faery Fruit is still entering town with untold consequences.

Although it's less than a hundred years old, some of the language is already verging on the opaque, but you get the gist well enough. Overall there's a delightful laid back lazy and dreamy feeling to the whole thing. It's somewhat bucolic as might be expected from 1920s view of farming life, but for those who were lucky enough to be born into privilege and power life as a town Mayor is always going to be smooth. It's initially hard to feel any sympathy for Nathaniel but he redeems himself. Compared to modern Urban Fantasy it's very different, the Fairy influence is never overtly described, none of the characters visit Fairy, and there's no direct magic of any form. Although Fairy seems to operate by rules it's not obviously sidhe based as many of the more common stories are, the mythos seems to be something more original or based on other folk-tales that I'm unaware of. There's no bibliography of influences.

I enjoyed this, its described as one of the most underappreciated books of the 20th century, which is probably a little excessive, but it's well worth reading for an appreciation of how the genre has evolved. ( )
  reading_fox | Jan 1, 2021 |
I know this is a favorite of a lot of people whose opinions I respect, but it didn't strike me. I didn't hear the "Note" of it, I suppose you could say. ( )
  octoberdad | Dec 16, 2020 |
The psychologist C. J. Jung maintained that the true purpose of middle age was the integration of all the varying, and sometimes unacknowledged, aspects of our personalities. Perhaps this accounts for the unusual protagonist of Hope Mirrlees’s Lud-in-the-Mist (1925), one of the most admired fantasy novels of the 20th century — and one that is clearly intended for adults. Mirrlees’s book explores the need to embrace what we fear, to come to terms with what Jung called the shadow, those sweet and dark impulses that our public selves ignore or repress. There are no elven blades or cursed rings here; no epic battles either, and the novel’s hero resembles the aged Bilbo Baggins more than the charismatic, sword-wielding Aragorn.
 
Neil Gaiman once said in conversation that Lud-in-the-Mist "deals with the central matter of fantasy -- the reconciliation of the fantastic and the mundane." Which, perhaps, comes as close to the heart of the question as anybody's going to get.

To learn more, you'll simply have to read the book.
hinzugefügt von elenchus | bearbeiteninfinity plus, Michael Swanwick (Jan 1, 2000)
 
The book is a curio, meandering between broad comedy, suspense, murder mystery and adventure, veering from moments of slapstick to moving scenes of pathos. Like all good magic tricks, the charm of the book lies in the craft of its glamour and sleight of hand. While it has its fair share of lo! and behold!, the simplicity of the writing conceals exquisite turns of phrase and an underlying intensity that can burst unexpectedly upon the reader. Nevertheless, it is hard to deny the book's weaknesses. Mirrlees' plotting is episodic, and the overwhelming feeling at the end is deflation that the long-promised fireworks of the final confrontation in Faerie should take place offstage. But by this point, it's clear that Lud-in-the-Mist is not all it seems: what at first appears to be a hotchpotch novel reveals itself as a carefully-considered - if not executed - allegory about the nature of 'fantasy'.
 

» Andere Autoren hinzufügen (16 möglich)

AutorennameRolleArt des AutorsWerk?Status
Mirrlees, HopeHauptautoralle Ausgabenbestätigt
Gallardo, GervasioUmschlagillustrationCo-Autoreinige Ausgabenbestätigt
Herring, MichaelUmschlagillustrationCo-Autoreinige Ausgabenbestätigt
Michniewicz, SueGestaltungCo-Autoreinige Ausgabenbestätigt
Toulouse, SophieIllustratorCo-Autoreinige Ausgabenbestätigt
Wyatt, DavidUmschlagillustrationCo-Autoreinige Ausgabenbestätigt
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The Sirens stand, as it would seem, to the ancient and the modern, for the impulses in life as yet immoralised, impervious longings, ecstasies, whether of love or art, or philosophy, magical voices calling to a man from his "Land of Heart's Desire," and to which if he hearken it may be that he will return no more--voices, too, which, whether a man sail by or stay to hearken, still sing on.

-- Jane Harrison
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The free state of Dorimare was a very small country, but, seeing that it was bounded on the south by the sea and on the north and east by mountains, while its centre consisted of a rich plain, watered by two rivers, a considerable variety of scenery and vegetation was to be found within its borders.
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Lud-in-the-Mist had all the things that make an old town pleasant. It had an ancient Guild Hall, built of mellow golden bricks and covered with ivy and, when the sun shone on it, it looked like a rotten apricot; it had a harbour in which rode vessels with white and red and tawny sails; it had flat brick houses - not the mere carapace of human beings, but ancient living creatures, renewing and modifying themselves with each generation under their changeless antique roofs.
[I]ndeed, it is never saf to classify the souls of one's neighbours; one is apt, in the long run, to be proved a fool. You should regard each meeting with a friend as a sitting he is unwittingly giving you for a portrait -- a portrait that, probably, when you or he die, will still be unfinished. [3]
There were whole chests, too, filled with pieces of silk, embroidered or painted with curious scenes. Who has not wondered in what mysterious forests our ancestors discovered the models for the beasts and birds upon their tapestries; and on what planet were enacted the scenes they have portrayed? It in in vain that the dead fingers have stitched beneath them -- and we can picture the mocking smile with which these crafty cozeners of posterity accompanied the action -- the words February, or Hawking, or Harvest, having us believe that they are but illustrations for the activities proper to the different months. We know better. These are not the normal activities of mortal men. What kind of beings peopled the earth four or five centuries ago, what strange lore they had acquired, and what were their sinister doings, we shall never know. Our ancestors keep their secret well. [4]
[A] very ingenious and learned jurist, had drawn in one of his treatises a curious parallel between fairy things and the law. The men of the revolution, he said, had substituted law for fairy fruit. But whereas only the reigning Duke and his priests had been allowed to partake of the fruit [in the pagan days], the law was given freely to rich and poor alike. Again, fairy was delusion, so was the law. At any rate, it was a sort of magic, moulding reality into any shape it chose. But, whereas fairy magic and delusion were for the cozening and robbing of man, the magic of the law was to his intention and for his welfare. [13]
Reason I know, is only a drug, and, as such, its effects are never permanent. But, like the juice of the poppy, it often gives a temporary relief. [Endymion Leer, 49]
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The book that New York Times bestselling author Neil Gaiman considers "one of the finest [fantasy novels] in the English language." Between the mountains and the sea, between the sea and Fairyland, lay the Free State of Dorimare and its picturesque capital, Lud-in-the-Mist. No Luddite ever had any truck with fairies or Fairyland. Bad business, those fairies. The people of Dorimare had run them out generations ago--and the Duke of Dorimare along with them. Until the spring of his fiftieth year, Master Nathaniel Chanticleer, Mayor of Lud-in-the-Mist and High Seneschal of Dorimare, had lived a sleepy life with his only son, Ranulph. But as he grew, Ranulph was more and more fond of talking nonsense about golden cups, and snow-white ladies milking azure cows, and the sound of tinkling bridles at midnight. And when Ranulph was twelve, he got caught up with the fairies, and Nathaniel's life would never be the same.

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