Stories for Bedtime

One of my family of fans came up with a wonderful name for my bedtime stories CD: "Firefly Light." How wonderful is that? If you had a favourite bedtime story, what was it? One of my favourites, as an older child, was the story of Gelert, the faithful hound.  Wales was not that far from home and my Dad lived in South Wales, so as a family we were often crossing the borders. Many Welsh tales were heard, picked up and told, or read to us and although the story is one of hasty decisions and grief, it is nevertheless a remarkable tale.

Another favourite of mine was a book by a writer/illustrator called Cam. The book, one of several of Cam's was called "Timothy Tabby Cat" from 1947. It is beautifully illustrated as all Cam's books are. I think what caught me were the illustrations which brought the story together. The pictures made up for what might be hinted at in the words. And the dragon was amazing. I have never been able to find out who Cam was, or is. These books were my mothers books, so Cam would be one of our elders by now. Do you have any illustrators or writers who vanished, as it were? Kids writers, I mean.

I think Cam awoke a love of illustration for me. When I have purchased books either for myself in my 20's and 30's or for my kids since they came into the world, or the kids of others, illustration plays a large part in my choices. When I came over to the States I discovered Trina Schart Hyman, who sadly lost her life to cancer in 2004. I was lucky enough to meet her, but at the time I did not know 'who she was'; she was introduced as Trina and I did not make the connection. Trina's work is simply amazing. Cam started the height of my bar, then my friend in England, Rob Brookes raised it, and Trina is one of the greats, in my opinion, illustrating over 150 books.

I would love some comments on your favourite books and illustrators as a child and why, if you have time!

William Tell

First of all there's that joke - the sign of an intellect is one who can listen to the William Tell Overture without thinking of the Lone Ranger. But seriously, the story of William Tell is one of freedom, rising up against an oppressor and people standing up for what they believe in.

Most of us know the story of the apple on the head of his son's head, but how many of us remember 'why'? I had forgotten. It's been a while since I read the story at school. So why did William have to shoot the apple off his son's head? Herman Gessler came over from Austria on behalf of the Duke who wanted to take control, allegedly, of the Gottherd Pass and therefore the trans-Alpine trade route. Gessler was commanded to make life miserable for the Swiss who lived in the Cantons of Uri, Schwyz and Walden. He did a very good job, getting the people of those Cantons to reach a level of rebellion. The plan was to upset the natives, giving the Duke the "reason" to invade legitimately and take control.

No large change is made by a single person, but usually a change begins with one individual and they become a symbol of that change. And this is how I see William Tell. Gessler stuck a hat on a pike in the center of Altdorf, and tells the people there that they are to bow to hat as if it is the Duke himself standing there, if they pass it. Of course people avoid going near it as they move through the town refusing to buckle under the Austrian tyranny of the time. William, visiting his father-in-law with his son either does not know, or decides to ignore the order and plead ignorant about bowing. He strolls by without bending his knee, and the soldiers set to guard the hat stop him. Gessler, as it happens, is coming through town as this occurs and wants to know why this man will not bow. When Gessler discovers it is Tell, a renown archer, he says he will let him free, if he can shoot an arrow from the head of his son. The son does not worry as he is taken, we are told, to be bound to a tree. William Tell takes two bolt-arrows from his quiver and puts one in his belt, the other in his cross bow. As we all know he splits the apple and he is free to go, but Gessler wants to know why the second bolt. At first Tell will not share the truth, saying it was force of habit, but then admits it was for Gessler should he have missed his mark. And the story goes on.

This is the beginning of the uprising. Tell is arrested, escapes and the rebellion overthrows the Austrian rulers. The Duke is too busy to come to Switzerland himself as he has other more pressing issues with France and some other countries, if I have read correctly, and ends up dead, leaving the Swizz to continue as they had.

Doing research for this story was great. There is much more to it than I have written here, and as I continue to work on the story, I need to figure out whether to include all the other wonderful parts of the story to tell, or to keep it down to the apple. Personally, I would like to tell the 'whole' story of Tell and the overthrow of the Austrians, but it will not be a short one! I have leaned about the Cantons, or regions of Switzerland. I wonder about the word Swizz and the region of Schwyz and if there is a connection? I found the region where the story unfolds and followed the shapes of the waters where some of the action takes place. I looked at photographs of the area, and of course, it is beautiful. I looked at the dress people wore in the 1300's. There are many paintings of those in high society, and few paintings I could find of those in the peasantry. (I am still not sure what the photo from the movie Carrie was doing amongst the others I was looking at on-line! Definitely not 1300!)

The weapons of the age which would have been used and how the cross bow was high tech. I think of today's drones and how much talk there is about those now. I think of the tyranny that still goes on, the power hungry, the greed, and the lack of compassion for those in need that still prevails. But William Tell is a great tale and one I will be sharing this summer, if everything goes well!

Say What? Bacon with everything!

With apologies to Trina Schart Hyman and Mark Twain!

Another short snippet of my story!

I have finished writing a book. It is quite a long book at about 80 pages and over 42,500 words long. It is for kids, tweens I suppose, or precocious readers of all sexes. I need a new title though. Got any ideas? Right now it is The Last Unicorn of Lindyline, but I think boys might run from that title. It is as much a boys book as a girls book. Anyway, here is an excerpt. This is copyrighted (C) 2015, so do not copy it in any way or form, because that would be illegal! Enjoy and send me comments:
simon at diamondscree dot com. You know it!

Chapter 21
A surprise helper

“What’s that noise?” said Mickelmas.

“It sounds like a chicken,” said Tommy Stanhope.

“Chickens in the forest?” said Mickelmas. “Preposterous!” (Some might say, ‘plain silly!’) They were riding slowly as the forest was growing dark, and the horses stepped with care.

There was a thud, and before them in the poor light they could make out a chicken.

“Chickens in the forest!” said Mickelmas again. “And flying at dusk.”

The chicken ruffled its feathers, dusting itself in a small patch of snow and then flapped its wings. The two men watched it fly up and up through the branches of the trees after it had looked around.

“I’ve never seen a chicken fly that high before,” said Tommy. “At least, not that I can remember.”

“This might sound very odd,” said Mickelmas as he studied (some might say, ‘looked hard at’) the young man. “But did you recognize that bird?”

“Well.  Yes and no,” said Tommy.

“Yes, that’s what I thought. You recognized it, but you didn’t at the same time?”

“Yes, that describes it. Don’t know why I’d recognize it though. We don’t have hens like that at home or at the barracks,” said Stanhope.

They both looked up.  They could hear the chicken but it sounded like it was getting further and further away. The sound blended with another. It seemed at first it was thunder, but it wasn’t.

“A horse?” said Tommy.

“Agreed,” said Mickelmas.  He turned his mount to face the direction the sound was coming from and reached behind himself. Mickelmas felt for his wooden staff and pulled it from the saddle roll. He muttered something under his breath and the head of his blackthorn stick, sputtered and shone brightly in the darkness in front of him, as if it were a focused lantern. The cloaked and hooded rider came upon them and was startled by the bright light.  They raised an arm to protect their eyes and pulled up their mount. Stanhope rode to the rider with his sword drawn.

When the rider lowered their arm they immediately drew their own sword. The rider’s reaction was so fast that Stanhope, already armed with his sword, found the rider’s blade at his throat.

Mickelmas smiled. “Your Highness, Princess Riley,” said the old man as his bowed on his horse and lowering his staff the light from it dimmed. “I see your parents presented you your sword.”

Princess Riley blinked and as her eyes adjusted, she said: “Mickelmas.  I was hoping to catch up with you.  I’m going to help you rescue my sister.” Riley’s breath was short.

“You’re assuming, Your Highness,” said Mickelmas, “she needs rescuing.”

Map of Lindyline by Simon Brooks (I love maps!)

Stanhope was flustered. He had just put the sharp edge of a sword up in a threatening manner to the Princess. “Your Highness I am so sorry,” he said sheathing (some say, ‘putting away’) his sword. “I thought you were the enemy.”

“If I were the enemy,” said Princess Riley, “We would not be talking at this point.”

“Quite right, Your Highness,” said Mickelmas.

“And please, stop calling me Your Highness,” said the Princess.

“Good idea,” said Mickelmas. “We don’t know if there are spies out here in the woods, and we don’t want word getting to the enemy you are out relatively unprotected, with just Private Stanhope and myself.”

“I have you, Mickelmas, and Stanhope here. And besides, I can look after myself,” said Princess Riley.

“I see,” said Mickelmas. “Do your mother and father know you are here?”

“I left a message with Glenda, mummy’s top advisor, my maid Leia, and I wrote a note which I left in my parents’ chambers.”

“I see,” said Mickelmas. “Well, let’s move.”

Tommy Stanhope was opening and closing his mouth. The young man looked first at the Princess and then back at Mickelmas. “But, but er, shouldn’t we take Her High. I mean the Prince. Er, what should I call you?” he stuttered.

“Riley. Plain and simple.”

Stanhope looked at Mickelmas and back at the Princess and at Mickelmas again. “Shouldn’t we er, take Riley,” Stanhope bowed to the Princess. “Back to the Castle, to The City?”

“Why bother?” said Mickelmas. “We’ll be wasting our time. Riley will come back to find us as soon as she can. Am I right, Miss Riley?”

“Yes, you are Mickelmas,” she said.

“Come along Tommy. We need to find a place to camp soon. It’s getting too dark to travel.”

Two very different books and a poem

Last night I finished reading A Little Princess by Frances Hodgeson Burnett (1905). It was a first time read, although I remember seeing either a British tv mini series, or a movie of the book and quite despising the stuck up little girl at the time. Reading the book now, in my mature years, shall we say, I see her character very differently. In my youth I also disliked Little Lord Fauntleroy for the same reasons, although I doubt I will read that any time soon! I think this time round the thing I liked about Sara, the main character, was her absolute resilience. Even when the worst was happening to her, she tried to be stoic. Sara stood up against her oppressors both adults and peers. She did not care that people thought her odd. She believed that this 'oddity' made her different, and this gave her strength. Two thirds of the way through the book Sara thinks she can not go on from the hunger she feels and the cold, but when she found a fourpence in the mud and bought some buns, she still gave all but one to a girl she knew to be worse off than herself. Sara was able to do this by using her imagination. She imagined she was a princess and kept asking herself, 'what would a princess do in this situation?'

From "Bulletin", Issue 17 (1902) by United States. Bureau of Biological Survey.

Sara helped other students who were drawn to her. She became a mother figure to a young girl and a close friend to another student at the seminary who others saw as stupid. And the maid, Becky was in awe of Sara, and became her fellow prisoner in the attic which they renamed the 'Bastille'. But when the underplayed and undervalued Ram Daas comes up with a plan, he transforms the garret room into a palace. At this point the tale turns and the loss which she suffered on the death of her father turned around and she became, in all but name, a princess. And then she transformed, from thinking of her own worries into being able to help others.

This was a good read for me, but I discovered a book I have fallen in love with. It is rare for me to read a book and want to re-read it immediately. Beowulf was once of these books, and To Kill A Mockingbird (1960) is my most recent. I have had this book since I first left Worcester, England in the 1980's. I never read it. The copy came with me to the States in the 1990's. But I never read it.

I came across an article about the character of Atticus Finch and liked what I read about him, so pulled the book off the shelf and dove in. I was caught by the end of the first page. What a book, what a story, what writing. I loved the characters in this book too. So rich, so powerfully described with so little work. Characters built on gestures, words, actions and manners. Manners play a big part in the story. I am not talking about folks saying 'please' and thank you', but the way we carry ourselves and behave generally. 'Manners' in this book are so much larger than our normal, everyday idea of manners. They carry over into everything.

Scout is another powerful young woman, but so very different from Sara in A Little Princess. Where Sara is prim and proper, Scout is all about fighting for what is right in any manner possible. She punches a cousin to defend her father's name. She will fight with anyone for what is right, to defend honour. Her father Atticus does not like fighting. He does not brag. He is quiet about himself and his skills and he gently imbue his knowledge and beliefs in his children. He knows what is right and will fight against what he believes is wrong even when he knows he could very well lose. Lee is able to show the children coming of age in their own ways, Scout learns to control her temper and with the help of Atticus' words she and her brother learn to imagine what it is like to be another person, to see things from another point of view. The difference between Scout and Sara are huge and yet there are similarities. Both know what is right and wrong. Where Sara uses her imagination, Scout uses her physical strength and the common sense which Atticus has encouraged in her. Scout shows her strength of character and courage when her father is being threatened by a mob. By addressing one of the members of the mob Scout is able to disperse the crowd. The morals and way of life of the early 1900's in England are so different from 1930's Southern America. I loved the voice with which Harper Lee wrote. Even though the topic, the situations, and dilemmas were serious and tough in Mockingbird, she wrote in such a way that made the horrors almost bearable.

And here is a poem I wrote last night.

A Nine Year Old Girl

 

From when her eyes open
They are bright with life
She finds wonder and joy
In every moment possible
Except when it’s the
Worst Day Ever!
Dancing in circles
Until gleefully giddy
And, giggling, falls down
Only to jump up singing
Hair flinging
To do it all again.
Making herself laugh
She falls back with tears
Rolling down her cheeks
Air filling her belly
Ready to laugh out loud,
Until it’s too hard to stand.
Sitting on the heater duct
Hot air blowing up her back,
Book in hand reading
Until the hot air stops.
Then up onto the couch
To hold the heat.
Pure unadulterated
Joy and happiness.
Unless it is the Worst Day Ever.
Then to bed and those eyes of joy
Slowly close.
Sweet dreams sweet heart.

Simon Brooks, 18^th February, 2015
Copyright 2015 (C)

Happy New Year - here's to a year of being present

It seems I have not been terribly good about updating my blog! Nor my website. This is not an oversight, but I have been busy. Life is very full, and this is good. And sometimes I am not 100% present because of that. When I take photographs I am present, 100%. (See some shots I took over the holidays here: http://simonbrooksstoryteller.wordpress.com/2015/01/07/swansea-marina-and-locale/)

One of the things I stress when telling tales, is that one of the best ways to be 100% present with your own kids is to tell them stories. They do not have to be folk tales, fairy stories, myths or legends, they can be stories about yourself, about Mum, Gran, Grandpa, Auntie Joan, your best friend, Gary Veale, who was really good at getting you into trouble! But what I am really saying is 'Turn off your blooming device and be present with your children.'

When I was a full time stay-at-home dad, which to some degree I still am, I found that when the kids were agitated and I became agitated, was when I was not present with them. I would be trying to work and would get frustrated, but if I stopped and spent time with them, gave them all my attention, forgot about what was needed to be done in the other room, things would get better. I could ask to go and do some work. It was like time sharing! We would do things together for a while and I am 100% there, then I have to go and work and be 100% there in my office!

Sitting down and telling tales is a great way to be present. You cannot help but be present. It is one-on-one time. Don't answer the phone, don't look to see who sent you a text, BE with the kids. If you think you can't tell tales (but you can!), then draw with them, play Lego's with them, write stories together, build something out of cardboard boxes, cook together. Walks can present opportunities for story, especially woods, streams, rocky places where things can hide and live extraordinary lives. There are spirits in the rocks, fairies in the streams, goblins in the trees throwing nuts at you!

Dad and me on the Gower

One thing I like to do is draw. Sometimes we still fold a piece of paper and each of us draws part of a body from top to bottom. When you unfold the paper you have a creature of some sort, or a weird looking person! Sometimes it is fun to make up a story about the creation you have just made. Make two and then both can have adventures. Make a third who the first two might meet. What do they do, where do they go? Suddenly stories appear from play. Then maybe at bedtime, you can expand on the story a little and leave a cliff-hanger for the next day or evening. Make up stories about strange (to the kids) words: make up what they don't mean with an outlandish tale!

It's not just kids though, it is your partner too. Be present. Give time, 100% focus to each other. The same with other family members near and distant. Maybe something wonderful will come out of it.

Happy New Year!

Stories the ads tell us

I do not watch too much American t.v. because I dislike the number of adverts which continuously break up the flow of a story. This Thanksgiving I sat watching cable t.v. with my kids and was horrified at what I saw, on kid stations.

Time-Warner Cable showed a father with two kids taking over what could have been a living room or den/family room. The furniture has been taken apart, blankets and rugs added to make some fabulous forts. In walks mother and gives a look of disapproval, that says she gives up, and takes her tablet to another room to be on her own. Is playing with the family so bad? Is it better to vanish with your devise? Admittedly there are times we need to spend on our own, but is the place of companies to suggest we go to our devices?

Ensure Active had an equally disturbing, if that's not too strong a word, commercial. The scene is similar to a type of gym with lots of fruit and veggies standing around, as if they were people, along with plastic containers of Ensure Active, also humanized, Veggie Tales style. One of the plastic containers of Ensure seems to be the instructor for this 'gym' and tells a pear, in not so many words, that it is not fit, that you can get better nutrition from a mass produced product in plastic, rather than from fresh vegetables and fruit. Unbelievable that in country where obesity is a problem that a company would steer folks away from fresh produce.

On the flip side Kellogg's Frosted Flakes have a much better idea. Tony the Tiger is with the family playing American football with them. When a break happens in the play and they move to the kitchen for a Frosted Flake snack, moves are discussed, using the frosted flakes on the table to plan the 'play'. A wonderful story of family playing together, tied in with a product. Tony is greeeeat!

Another story I finished over Thanksgiving was a book from a genre I have not tried before - alternative history. When someone let me borrow Harry Turtledove's "Ruled Britannia" I had a blast. Set in Shakespeare's London, the story tells this alternative history of the Spanish invading and ruling, with Elizabeth I in the Tower,on Philip of Spain's orders. It is not a bad book, and is one I enjoyed. Lots of Shakespeare's work entwined into the writing and lots of facts, given a nice twist, or explanation!

What stories did you enjoy over Thanksgiving? What stories did your family tell? What books did you start or finish? What devises did you lay down to cool off over the break?

I hope everyone had a fabulous Thanksgiving, with those you love and care for.

Peace,
Simon

The Richness and Beauty of the Selchidh, and Hiking Boots

From Arthur Rackham's Undine

I have just finished reading a wonderful book about the seal people of Ireland and Scotland. It is a journal of a journey, mainly through Ireland, and the stories collected of the Selkie, the Kane, Silkies, Selchies, Selchidh; the shape shifters. The stories are of another time but not that long ago. The book was printed in 1954, and some stories were told 'in living memory', the rest as ancient as the creatures themselves.  There is something special, timeless about the tales of the seal people.

My brother gave me the book for my birthday this year and it is one of those rare books that are an easy read which do not lose the richness of language. The writing, the narration, has an easy gait to it, but I did not want to rush through it. The stories needed to be savoured, so I would dip in and read a chapter, then sit there and mull it over. I felt I was traveling with the author, David Thomson. My brother had given me a first edition and the pages are now delicate, the dust jacket worn. It is a treasure to enjoy slowly. Sometimes I would look up words I was unsure of, words describing clothing I had not heard of, like bawneen, or the pronunciation of those tricky Gaelic words. Life of the islanders in the 1950's had the old ways upon them; the old men had certain ways of life and attitude the younger folk had started to lose. It was similar in that way to reading Mary Webb's 'Precious Bane'. She wrote of a time passing and the old ways just about hanging on, but a generation earlier in England.  'The People of the Sea' by David Thomson, is a book I will treasure for a long time.

There is something very magical about what I call the Old Stories and Ancient Stories - the folk and faerie tales, the myths and sagas of long ago, but there is something even more magical, or deeper to the Selchidh, Selkie stories. I often wonder what it is. My mother, I think, told me the story of the Woman of the Sea when I was young, or someone did when we visited the Isle of Aran in my very young days. I rediscovered the story in Kevin Crossley-Holland's wonderful book 'Northern Lights, Legends, Sagas and Folk-tales' when I bought it in 1987. It was a great rediscovery. I have been sharing the tale since then. That book got me into folk and faerie tales as an adult in my 20's.

There are many fun tales to be told, some stories which beg for humour. There are those filled with depth, and those with meaning, but the Selkie tales for me stand out. Is it because of the shape-shifting ability? (My son likes werewolves!) Does this dual life appeal to us because these tales offer a hope of something else when things get rough, life gets tough? Could some of us, the dark haired of us, walk to the coast, dive in and take form of a seal?

I was having lunch with Papa Joe a couple of days ago and we were talking about stories and how there are different types of tales that come to you. I am not talking about motifs or the
Aarne–Thompson tale type index, I am talking about how a story finds you. When I come across a tale I love, there are times the story is immediately lodged into my head and never leaves, like, for me, the Woman of the Sea; and The Goat from the Hills and Mountain, collected by Alma Flor Ada and Isabelle Campoy. There are other stories which I know I want to tell but stay dormant in my mind as I process them, mull them over. Sometimes years pass before I tell them, like Beowulf (still mulling around!), or those which have not yet given me their voice yet like Little Red Riding Hood - she is out and about now! Although Woman of the Sea sank in immediately, but I did not tell it for years. I would share it, but not tell it. As I said to Papa Joe, it is like buying a brand new pair of very good, expensive, leather hiking boots - you would never go hiking the same day, you would break the boots in over days and weeks. The Selkie stories, all of them, to me are like that. I have them in my mind and could tell them, but they need, no, I need to be broken in with the story. The tales need to tell me how to share them, how I personally can best serve the stories and those who listen. Some stories are like sneakers and you can jump into them and start running; some are like dress shoes, you polish them up and keep them polished; and some are like hiking boots that need to be worn for a good while before taking them out. Maybe that's why I like the Selkie stories so much, once you have worn them for a while they will last forever, and will take you to places you never thought you would go.

For a source of Selkie stories, or books with the stories of the seal people, go to my website.
http://www.diamondscree.com/selkies
Peace,
Simon

It's not Friday the 13th, but it is Jason!

Since Friday the 13th first 'graced' the silver sceen in 1980, the name Jason has been synonymous with ice hockey masks and slasher movies, but before that, there was another Jason. This Jason was joined, according to Padraic Colums's book, The Story of the Golden Fleece, by heroes who themselves were the seed of the gods, or at least demi-gods. It's been a while since I read or studied the book, but a side project I am working on had me pick it up. This truly impressive telling ties in stories of Theseus, Daedalus, Atalanta, Hercules (Heracles), Perseus, Demeter  and Persephone. Although originally geared toward young eyes and minds, it reads incredibly well and the language, now, might be better suited to middle school and up. Still, dig up a copy and read it. Call it a late beach read!

Photo by Simon Brooks (C) 2014

This side project began about 2 or 3 years ago when I was asked to tell some Greek myths.  I will be leaving the Odyssey and Odysseus alone, as there are many others who do that already, and do it really well. I will be sticking to the stories that come before Troy.  Although not a huge fan of the Greek tales due the amount of abuse and mis-use of females in the stories and Zeus just going when and where he wanted and the constant lying to Hera and her savage revenge against the innocent, I found some tales to be really good. And Daedalus was one of them. Because I have not really looked much at Greek myths since school, I was reminded of so much and rediscovered for myself the intricacies of these stories. Daedalus helped Theseus through Ariadne, Theseus meet Demeter on his travels to find his father, Demeter's daughter was picking the Narcissus flower when she was taken to the Underworld. Theseus' father knew Medea who sailed with Jason, but then so did Theseus, okay, it's getting confusing! But it popped the thought in my head that I should work on these stories and record them.

So I did. I wrote the story of Daedalus, and later Theseus, well part of it, and the story of Persephone and performed those. I recorded the story of Daedalus a few weeks ago and it sounds good! I worked on and told the story of Midus. These stories have been told with all the meat on them, or have been watered down for younger ears. But these stories can be told to all ages. Sure, you might not want to mention that Poseidon was so angry with Minos that he got the king's wife drunk and had Hera cause her to have intercourse with the White Bull which the sea god had given Minos to sacrifice- hence their son the Minotaur! (This is one of the moments where the women are mistreated. Why not have Minos give birth to his Minotaur son? His wife had nothing to do with it as far as I can tell.) I researched and wroteup the story of King Midus and performed it. It is a funny story, although the ending a bit grim and disgusting (but can be used as a warning against the consumption of alcohol)! Midos is an idiot! Researching has been a blast. Discovering new parts to the stories is so exciting. Reading Ovid and learning the full story of Alcyone was a treat after seeing it told in a paragraph or two in so many places. And you find that Ceyx knew Theseus. (That Theseus gets around!) One of my other favourite tales is that of Perseus. The ending when he returns home and his old dog dies, and he saves his mother is just wonderful. Great stories with grit!

Apollo gives Midus his ears

So if, like me, you were not a huge fan of the Greek tales, take another look at them. Read the story of Jason or Perseus. Check out some of the other stories too. Or better yet, let me know if you want to hear the stories recorded! They are slowly coming together. My plan is to make a book and record all the stories in a way that all will want to hear.

Why Do I Tell Folk Tales?

Why Folk Tales? 

Based on an interview with Sam Payne of BYU Radio, and the Apple Seed show.

http://preview.tinyurl.com/qyyggrj

Old folk stories are still around because they are such great stories. If I get a book published, that would be great, but I don’t expect it be around in 100 year’s time. How many books have been printed since 1900 and before, which are no longer in print, nor being read, or have even been forgotten? I want to give the Old Stories which have been around not just for hundreds of years but thousands, in some cases, the light they deserve, the voice that they need.

Arthur Rackham, 1910

Because the Old Tales, the folk and faerie tales, myths and legends have been passed down from generation to generation, during that time cultures change, way of life changes and the stories change with that. But they still have the core value, the core lessons in them, if you want to find the lessons in them. These stories are powerful, and strong, and yet adults and kids are not getting to hear them.  These stories are so deep, we need to get them out to adults as well as to children. Some of these tales have a lot of red meat in them. If you were to tell one or two of these to a group of kindergarteners they would be going home telling their parents: “Mummy, there was this scary man there, and I don’t want to go to school tomorrow.” Not all folk and faerie tales are like that, but there are a good number which are. And there are stories about life, love, growing up, and death. It is a shame that adults think it is stuff for kids, but it’s not all like that. There are many stories which are deep and have much meaning in them. I told my own version of Little Red Riding Hood to a group of 12 year olds who thought, when I mentioned it before I began, it was a little kids story. They saw another side of it, by the time I had told the tale. These tales were not meant for books, they need to be told.

I love the fact that the MOTH is out there and people are sharing their personal stories. I think it is great that people are sharing their stories. We all do it, whether on a stage, or by the water cooler. Some of the stories I have heard on the Moth, I wonder why they are shared and broadcast across the country if not the world, but they are interesting and some are great. It is all about empathy and how we see each other as other human beings, and how we translate our experiences with one another, or don’t!  But these tales, these shared experiences will not be around in 50 years time. The old folk tales need to be heard, too. I do not tell personal stories, not often, because these old tales are so important. We should be giving the Old Tales the air time they deserve, and need, and keep them for another few thousand years.

Yesterday I was told by one listener after my performance that she couldn’t tell stories. “But,” I told her, “You will be telling stories about your trip here, when you get home.” Teachers tell me they are not storytellers, yet the best teachers ARE storytellers. Humans inherently learn through story and experience. List a bunch of facts and they are hard to remember, but couch them in a story and the facts will stay. Some storytellers dress up, and act out stories, but there are many who do not. They may only use hand gestures (which they may or may not be aware of), or facial expressions, but there are some storytellers, who just use their voice, and a certain choice of words. And it always engages. Even the ‘most troublesome kid in the class.' Those are the ones who usually respond the best!

When you use folk tales, there is a layer of separation, and it is this which allows one to identify themselves safely with the stories. They can see issues and difficulties second-hand, if you will, which can act as a buffer, whether the audience is elderly and the story is about death, or the audience is a bunch of middles schoolers who are trying to deal with bullying.

Start with the personal stories, they are easier to remember after all. But then move into the folk and faerie realm of stories, share the myths and legends, and be prepared to see those Old Stories in a completely new light.

Simon Brooks (c) 2014