author - "George MacDonald"

Description

The Princess and the Goblin is a children’s fantasy novel in the vein of the best classic fairy tales. The simple narrative follows Princess Irene as she discovers a ghostly relative living in a castle tower only she can access. During a walk outside one day, she encounters the threat of the lair of goblins living near the castle—and meets a new friend, a young miner named Curdie. She and Curdie must stop the goblin threat before they can carry out their evil plot.

certain she, sometimes at least, must say whatis worth hearing about such matters."

"Well, but she's an exception. Besides, she hasn't any children."

"Then," said my husband, "there's Lady Bernard"--

"Ah! but she was like no one else. Besides, she is almost a publiccharacter, and any thing said about her would betray my original."

"It would be no matter. She is beyond caring for that now; and not one ofher friends could object to any thing you who loved her so much would sayabout her."

The mention of this lady seemed to put some strength into me. I felt as ifI did know something worth telling, and I was silent in my turn.

"Certainly," Mr. S. resumed, "whatever is worth talking about is worthwriting about,--though not perhaps in the way it is talked about. Besides,Mrs. Percivale, my clients want to know more about your sisters, and littleTheodora, or Dorothea, or--what was her name in the book?"

The end of it was, that I agreed to try to the extent of a dozen pages orso.

did not stop until she stood by her side, and looked up in her face with her blue eyes and the two melted stars in them.

"Why, what have you been doing with your eyes, child?" asked the old lady.

"Crying," answered the princess.

"Why, child?"

"Because I couldn't find my way down again."

"But you could find your way up."

"Not at first--not for a long time."

"But your face is streaked like the back of a zebra. Hadn't you a handkerchief to wipe your eyes with?"

"No."

"Then why didn't you come to me to wipe them for you?"

"Please I didn't know you were here. I will next time."

"There's a good child!" said the old lady.

Then she stopped her wheel, and rose, and, going out of the room, returned with a little silver basin and a soft white towel, with which she washed and wiped the bright little face. And the princess thought her hands were so smooth and nice!

When she carried away the basin and towel, the little princess wond

steps outside, across a paved court, through the brazen gates, along half-roused streets where people were opening their shops, through the huge gates of the city, and out into the wide road vanishing northwards--the princess struggling and screaming all the time, and the wise woman holding her tight. When at length she was too tired to struggle or scream any more, the wise woman unfolded her cloak and set her down, and the princess saw the light and opened her swollen eyelids. There was nothing in sight that she had ever seen before! City and palace had disappeared. They were upon a wide road going straight on, with a ditch on each side of it, that, behind them, widened into the great moat surrounding the city. She cast up a terrified look into the wise woman's face that gazed down upon her gravely and kindly. Now the princess did not in the least understand kindness. She always took it for a sign either of partiality or fear. So when the wise woman looked kindly upon her, she rushed at her, butting with her

'But somebody knows that you are in the house?'

'No; nobody.'

'How do you get your dinner, then?'

'I keep poultry - of a sort.'

'Where do you keep them?'

'I will show you.'

'And who makes the chicken broth for you?'

'I never kill any of MY chickens.'

'Then I can't understand.'

'What did you have for breakfast this morning?' asked the lady.

'Oh! I had bread and milk, and an egg - I dare say you eat their eggs.'

'Yes, that's it. I eat their eggs.'

'Is that what makes your hair so white?'

'No, my dear. It's old age. I am very old.'

'I thought so. Are you fifty?'

'Yes - more than that.'

'Are you a hundred?'

'Yes - more than that. I am too old for you to guess. Come and see my chickens.'

Again she stopped her spinning. She rose, took the princess by the hand, led her out of the room, and opened the door opposite the stair. The princess expected to see a lot of hens and chickens,

easily expelled, and had dyed with blackness the walls towhich, bat-like, it had clung, these tapers served but ill tolight up the gloomy hangings, and seemed to throw yet darkershadows into the hollows of the deep-wrought cornice. All thefurther portions of the room lay shrouded in a mystery whosedeepest folds were gathered around the dark oak cabinet which Inow approached with a strange mingling of reverence andcuriosity. Perhaps, like a geologist, I was about to turn up tothe light some of the buried strata of the human world, with itsfossil remains charred by passion and petrified by tears.Perhaps I was to learn how my father, whose personal history wasunknown to me, had woven his web of story; how he had found theworld, and how the world had left him. Perhaps I was to findonly the records of lands and moneys, how gotten and how secured;coming down from strange men, and through troublous times, to me,who knew little or nothing of them all. To solve myspeculations, and to dispel the a

nothing, I might yet come in contact with something; but my search was vain. Instinctively then, as to the only living thing near me, I turned to the raven, which stood a little way off, regarding me with an expression at once respectful and quizzical. Then the absurdity of seeking counsel from such a one struck me, and I turned again, overwhelmed with bewilderment, not unmingled with fear. Had I wandered into a region where both the material and psychical relations of our world had ceased to hold? Might a man at any moment step beyond the realm of order, and become the sport of the lawless? Yet I saw the raven, felt the ground under my feet, and heard a sound as of wind in the lowly plants around me!

"How DID I get here?" I said--apparently aloud, for the question was immediately answered.

"You came through the door," replied an odd, rather harsh voice.

I looked behind, then all about me, but saw no human shape. The terror that madness might be at hand laid hold upon me: must I hencefort

t had not been there before the darkness came, she suspected that it had to do with the lamp. She kneeled therefore, and searched with her hands, and bringing two large pieces together, recognized the shape of the lamp. Therefore it flashed upon her that the lamp was dead, that this brokenness was the death of which she had read without understanding, that the darkness had killed the lamp. What then could Falca have meant when she spoke of the lamp going out? There was the lamp -- dead indeed, and so changed that she would never have taken it for a lamp, but for the shape! No, it was not the lamp anymore now it was dead, for all that made it a lamp was gone, namely, the bright shining of it. Then it must be the shine, the light, that had gone out! That must be what Falca meant -- and it must be somewhere in the other place in the wall. She started afresh after it, and groped her way to the curtain.

Now, she had never in her life tried to get out, and did not know how; but instinctively she began to mov

Description

Phantastes was published in 1858. It tells the story of Anodos, who, on coming of age, is examining the effects of his deceased father. To his astonishment, in doing so he sees an apparition of a fairy woman, who tells him that he has some fairy blood and conveys him to Fairy Land.

In Fairy Land Anodos undergoes a long series of strange adventures and spiritual experiences. He is frequently under threat, at first from malevolent trees, and later from his own evil Shadow. At one point he discovers Pygmalion’s cave and sees the form of a beautiful woman enclosed in transparent alabaster. He falls instantly in love with this woman and contrives to free her from the stone, but she flees from him. Later, he encounters the Arthurian knight Sir Percivale, who has just come off the worst of an encounter with the evil Maid of the Alder-Tree. Eventually, after many trials and hazards, Anodos encounters Sir Percivale again and becomes his squire. Together they carry out deeds of chivalry before Anodos eventually returns to the mundane world.

Phantastes is now regarded as a classic of the fantasy genre and has been an important influence on later generations of fantasy writers, including such names as C. S. Lewis.