The Sorcerer's Apprentice: An Anthology of Magical Tales
432
The Sorcerer's Apprentice: An Anthology of Magical Tales
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Overview
“The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” might conjure up images of Mickey Mouse from the Disney film Fantasia, or of Harry Potter. As this anthology reveals, however, “sorcerer’s apprentice” tales—in which a young person rebels against, or complies with, an authority who holds the keys to magical powers—have been told through the centuries from classical times to today. This collection brings together more than fifty sorcerer’s apprentice stories by a plethora of writers, including Ovid, Sir Walter Scott, and the Brothers Grimm. In an extensive introduction, fairy-tale scholar Jack Zipes discusses the significance of the apprentice stories, the contradictions in popular retellings, and the importance of magic as a tool of resistance against figures who abuse their authority. Twenty specially commissioned black-and-white illustrations by noted artist Natalie Frank bring the stories to visual life.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780691191423 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Princeton University Press |
| Publication date: | 07/09/2019 |
| Edition description: | Reprint |
| Pages: | 432 |
| Sales rank: | 1,117,940 |
| Product dimensions: | 6.00(w) x 9.20(h) x 1.00(d) |
| Age Range: | 11 - 14 Years |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
The Sorcerer's Apprentice
An Anthology of Magical Tales
By Jack Zipes, Natalie Frank
PRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS
Copyright © 2017 Princeton University PressAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-691-17265-1
CHAPTER 1
Early Tales
EUCRATES AND PANCRATES (CA. 170 CE)*
Lucian of Samosata
"I will tell you," [Eucrates said,] "another incident derived from my own experience, not from hearsay. Perhaps even you, Tychiades, when you have heard it, may be convinced of the truth of the story.
"When I was living in Egypt during my youth (my father had sent me traveling for the purpose of completing my education), I took it into my head to sail up to Koptos and go from there to the statue of Memnon in order to hear it sound that marvelous salutation to the rising sun. Well, what I heard from it was not a meaningless voice, as in the general experience of common people; Memnon himself actually opened his mouth and delivered an oracle to me in seven verses, and if it were not too much of a digression, I would have repeated the very verses for you. But on the voyage up the river, a man from Memphis chanced to be sailing with us. He was one of the scribes of the temple, wonderfully learned, familiar with all the culture of the Egyptians. He was said to have lived underground for twenty-three years in their sanctuaries, learning magic from Isis."
"You mean Pancrates," said Arignotus, "my own teacher, a holy man, clean shaven, in white linen, always deep in thought, speaking imperfect Greek, tall, flat-nosed, with protruding lips and thinnish legs."
"That self-same Pancrates, and at first I did not know who he was, but when I saw him working all sorts of wonders whenever we anchored the boat, particularly riding on crocodiles and swimming in company with the beasts, while they fawned and wagged their tails, I recognized that he was a holy man, and by degrees, through my friendly behavior, I became his companion and associate, so that he shared all his secret knowledge with me.
"At last he persuaded me to leave all my servants behind in Memphis and to go with him quite alone, for we should not lack people to wait upon us; and thereafter we got on in that way. But whenever we came to a stopping place, the man would take either the bar of the door or the broom or even the pestle, put clothes upon it, say a certain spell over it, and make it walk, appearing to everyone else to be a man. It would go off and draw water and buy provisions and prepare meals and in every way deftly serve and wait upon us. Then, when he was through with its services, he would again make the broom a broom or the pestle a pestle by saying another spell over it.
"Though I was very keen to learn this from him, I could not do so, for he was jealous, although most ready to oblige in everything else. But one day I secretly overheard the spell — it was just three syllables — by taking my stand in a dark place. He went off to the square after telling the pestle what it had to do, and on the next day, while he was transacting some business in the square, I took the pestle, dressed it up in the same way, said the syllables over it, and told it to carry water. When it had filled and brought in the jar, I said, 'Stop! Don't carry any more water. Be a pestle again!'
"But it would not obey me now; it kept straight on carrying until it filled the house with water for us by pouring it in! At my wit's end over the thing, for I feared that Pancrates might come back and be angry, as was indeed the case, I took an axe and cut the pestle in two; but each part took a jar and began to carry water, with the result that instead of one servant I had now two.
"Meanwhile Pancrates appeared on the scene, and comprehending what had happened, turned them into wood again, just as they were before the spell, and then for his own part left me to my own devices without warning, taking himself off out of sight somewhere."
"Then you still know how to turn the pestle into a man?" said Deinomachus.
"Yes," said he. "Only halfway, however, for I cannot bring it back to its original form if it once becomes a water carrier, but we shall be obliged to let the house be flooded with the water that is poured in!"
"Will you never stop telling such buncombe, old men as you are?" said Tychiades. "If you will not, at least for the sake of these lads put your amazing and fearful tales off to some other time, so that they may not be filled up with terrors and strange figments before we realize it. You ought to be easy with them and not accustom them to hear things like this that will abide with them and annoy them their lives long and will make them afraid of every sound by filling them with all sorts of superstition."
THE STORY OF THE BRAHMIN PADMANABA AND THE YOUNG HASSAN (1707)
François Pétis de la Croix
Some time ago there was a shopkeeper by the name of Fyquaï in the city of Damas. He had a sixteen-year-old son whom he called Hassan, and who could pass for a prodigy. This young boy, who had the face of the moon, was as tall as a cypress tree, cheerful, and pleasant. Whenever he sang, his sweet voice charmed everyone, and he played the lute so well that he was capable of resuscitating a dead person. His talents were very useful for his father, who did good business by selling his fiquàa, a mixed drink of barley water and raisin, while his son provided his customers with so much pleasure. The drink, which did not cost more than a manghir, was sold for an aqta in the shop at his home. Fyquaï vainly sought to increase the sales of the drink, but when customers entered his shop, they came more to see his son than to drink, and there was quite a crowd. People even called the house Tcheschémy Aby Hhayat, that is, the fountain of youth, because the old people took so much pleasure in going there.
One day, when the young Hassan was singing and playing the lute to the great enjoyment of everyone in the shop, the famous Brahmin Padmanaba entered to refresh himself. He soon developed a certain admiration for Hassan, and after talking with the boy for a while, he was charmed by his conversation. Not only did Padmanaba return to the shop the next day, but he even dropped what he was doing to go there every day, and unlike the others in attendance who only gave an aqta, he gave a sequin to hear Hassan sing and play.
All this had been going on for a long time when Hassan told his father once: "There's a man who seems to be an important person, and he comes here every day. He takes so much pleasure in talking to me that he constantly calls out and asks me some questions. And when he leaves, he gives me a sequin."
"Oh, oh," the father responded, "there's something mysterious about all this! The intentions of this important person are perhaps not very good. Often these philosophers, despite their serious look, are very vicious. Tomorrow, when you see him, tell him that I wish to make his acquaintance. Ask him to mount the stairs to my room. I want to examine him. I have experience. I'll get to the bottom of all this when I talk to him, and I'll know whether he is as wise as he appears to be."
The next day Hassan did what his father had instructed him to do, and he told Padmanaba to mount the stairs to his father's room, where a magnificent meal had been prepared for him. The shopkeeper paid all the honors imaginable to the Brahmin, who received this attention with great politeness and displayed such wisdom in his conversation that it was clear he was a very virtuous man. After the meal young Hassan's father asked him what country he was from and where he was lodging. As soon as Fyquaï learned that he was a stranger, he said to him: "If you would like to live with us, I can offer you lodging in my house."
"I accept the offer that you've made," Padmanaba responded, "because it is like a paradise in this world to be able to lodge with good friends."
So the Brahmin moved into the shopkeeper's house. His presence in the home was considerable, and he eventually developed a very strong friendship with Hassan. So, one day he said to him: "Oh, my son I must open my heart to you. I find you to contain the very spirit of the secret sciences. It is true that your character is a bit too cheerful, but I am persuaded that you will change, and you will eventually have all the seriousness, or rather all the melancholy necessary to become one of those sages whose mysteries I should like you to learn in an initiation. I intend to make your fortune, and if you want to accompany me outside of the city, I'll let you see from today onward the treasures that I claim you deserve to possess."
"My lord," Hassan responded, "you know that I depend on my father. I cannot go with you without his permission."
So the Brahmin went and spoke with his father, who was already convinced of the philosopher's wisdom and gave him permission to take his son to wherever he pleased.
Now Padmanaba left the city of Damas with Hassan. They walked toward a rundown cottage, and when they arrived, they found a well filled with water to the rim.
"Take good note of this well," the Brahmin said. "The treasures that I have intended for you are down there."
"Too bad," the young man replied with a smile. "How am I supposed to pull them out from this abyss?"
"Oh, my son!" Padmanaba exclaimed. "I'm not at all surprised that this seems difficult. Most people do not have the privilege that I have. Only those whom God wants to participate in the marvels of his omnipotence have the power to reverse the elements and to disturb the order of nature."
As he was saying this he wrote some letters on a piece of paper in Sanskrit, the language of the magi of India, Siam, and China. Next he only had to throw the paper down the well, and immediately all the water retreated and evaporated. The two of them climbed into the well, where some stairs appeared, and they descended to the bottom. There they found a door made of red copper locked by a large iron padlock. The Brahmin wrote a prayer and touched the padlock with the paper, and the lock opened instantly. They pushed the door and entered a cave, where they saw a very dark Ethiopian. He was standing and had a large rock made of white marble in his hand.
"If we approach him," young Hassan said, "he will throw the rock at our heads." Indeed, as soon as the Ethiopian saw the two of them advancing, he lifted this enormous rock as if to throw it. Padmanaba quickly recited a short prayer and whispered: "The Ethiopian cannot resist these words with force and will fall down because of the whisper."
Then they crossed the cave without encountering any obstacles and walked through a long and vast courtyard. There was a crystal in the middle of it, and the entrance was guarded by two dragons facing one another. Their mouths were open and spewed forth a whirl of fire. Hassan was terrified of them.
"Let's not go any farther!" he cried out. "Those horrible dragons will burn us."
"Don't be afraid of anything, my son," the Brahmin said. "Trust me, and have more courage. The supreme sagacity that I want you to attain demands fortitude. Those monsters that are terrifying you will disappear when they hear my voice. I have the power to command the demons and to dissipate all their spells."
Upon saying that he just needed to pronounce some cabalistic words, and the dragons retreated into two holes. Then the door to the dome opened by itself all at once. Padmanaba and the young Hassan entered, and they were pleasantly surprised to see a new dome made entirely of rubies in another courtyard. At the top there was a carbuncle six feet high that gave off a large light that shone all over and served as the sun in this subterranean place.
This dome was not like the first one guarded by frightening monsters. On the contrary there were six charming statues, each made from one solitary diamond, and they stood at the entrance and represented six beautiful women who played the Basque drums. The door was composed of one solitary emerald, and it was open and led to a magnificent salon. Hassan was daunted by what stood before his eyes.
After Padmanaba had carefully examined the statues and the dome, he entered with Hassan into the salon, which had a floor made of massive gold, and the ceiling was made of porphyry and scattered with pearls. There were a thousand different things, some more unique than others, that the young man's eyes avidly consumed. Then the philosopher took him into a large square room. In one corner there was a huge pile of gold; in another, a huge pile of extremely beautiful rubies; in a third, a pile of silver; and in the fourth, a pile of black dirt.
In the middle of the room a superb throne arose, and on it there was a silver coffin in which a prince was lying. On his head was a golden crown enriched by large pearls. One could see a large gold plaque on top of the coffin with words written in cabalistic hieroglyphs used by ancient the Egyptian priests: People sleep until after they live. They only wake up at the hour of their death. What was important to me up to the present was to possess a great empire with tons of treasures that are here. There is nothing here that lasts so little as prosperity. And all the human power is nothing but a false blessing (fosblesse). Oh mortal who is in the shaky cradle do not glorify your fortune. Remember the time when the Pharaohs flourished. They no longer exist and make an offer to be just as good as they were.
"What prince is in this coffin?" Hassan asked.
"One of the ancient kings of Egypt," responded the Brahmin. "It is he who created this subterranean realm and built this rich dome of rubies."
"I'm surprised by what you are teaching me," the young man answered. "What bizarre thing drove this king to construct this underground realm, a work that seems to have exhausted all the riches of the world? All the other monarchs who wanted to leave monuments of their grandeur to posterity displayed them instead of concealing them from the eyes of people."
"You are right," the Brahmin replied, "but this king was a great cabalist. He often slipped away from the court to come to this place to make discoveries in nature. He possessed many secrets, and among them was the philosopher's stone as one can see here in all the richness that is the product of this pile of black dirt that you can perceive in the corner."
"Is it possible," the young Hassan exclaimed, "that this black dirt was made for that?"
"Don't have any doubts," the Brahmin responded. "To prove this to you, I'm going to cite two Turkish verses that contain the secrets of the philosopher's stone. Here they are:
Wirghil Arons gharby Schahzadey Kibitays Bit Tift ola boulardam Sultan Khob'rouyan.
This means literally: Give the son of the king of the Orient to the bride of the West; they will give birth to the sultan with a beautiful face. Now I'll tell you the mythic meaning of this. Mix the dry earth of Adam with the humidity that comes from the Orient. This mixture will engender the philosophical mercury that is omnipotent in nature and will engender the sun and the moon, that is, gold and silver. And when it is mounted on its throne, it will change the stones into diamonds and other precious gems. The pile of silver that is in the corner of this room contains water, that is, the humidity used for mixing with the dry earth and to convert it to the condition in which it is. If you were to take only a handful of this dirt, you could transmute it into silver or gold, or if you wanted, into all the metal in Egypt and all the stones of the houses into diamonds and rubies."
"I must admit," Hassan said, "that this is really marvelous dirt. I'm no longer surprised to see such riches here."
"They are even more admirable than I have already explained," the Brahmin replied. "They can cure all the enormous diseases. When an exhausted sick person who's about to surrender his soul swallows one solitary grain of the dirt, he'll suddenly feel his energy return, and he will get up straightaway full of vigor and good health. This dirt has another virtue that I prefer to all the others: Whoever rubs one's eyes with its sap will see the genies and will have the power to command them.
"After everything that I have just told you, my son," the Brahmin continued, "you are to value discreetly the treasures that are reserved for you."
"Without a doubt they are priceless," the young man said. "But while waiting for your permission to take possession of these treasures, may I take a part of them to show my father how fortunate we are to have a friend like you?"
"Yes, you may," responded Padmanaba. "Take as much as you would like."
So Hassan benefited from the opportunity to take some gold and rubies with him and followed the Brahmin who left the room of the king of Egypt. They crossed the beautiful salon, the two courtyards, and the cave, where they found the Ethiopian, who was still staggering. They opened the door made of red copper and departed, while the iron padlock shut by itself. Then they climbed the staircase, and after they were on top, the well filled itself with water and appeared just as it was before.
When the Brahmin noticed that Hassan was astonished to see the water return all at once, he said to him: "Where does that surprise come from that you've just shown? Haven't you ever heard of talismans?"
(Continues...)
Excerpted from The Sorcerer's Apprentice by Jack Zipes, Natalie Frank. Copyright © 2017 Princeton University Press. Excerpted by permission of PRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Table of Contents
List of Figures ix
Preface xi
Notes and Acknowledgments xxiii
Introduction
The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, Harry Potter, and Why Magic Matters 1
Part I The Humiliated Apprentice Tales
Early Tales
Lucian of Samosata, “Eucrates and Pancrates” (ca. 170 CE) 85
François Pétis de la Croix, “The Story of the Brahmin Padmanaba and the Young Hassan” (1707) 88
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, “The Pupil in Magic” (1798) 97
Nineteenth-Century Tales
Robert Southey, “Cornelius Agrippa’s Bloody Book” (1801) 101
Sir Walter Scott, “The Last Exorciser” (1838) 103
John Naaké, “The Book of Magic” (1874) 103
Alfred Cooper Fryer, “The Master and His Pupil; or, The Magic Book” (1884) 105
Sheykh-Zāda, “The Lady’s Fifth Story” (1886) 110
Edith Hodgetts, “The Blacksmith and the Devil” (1890) 112
Twentieth-Century Tales
Henry Thomas Francis, “The Rash Magician” (1916) 117
Richard Rostron, “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” (1941) 119
Richard Dorson, “The Mojo” (1956) 123
Harold Courlander, “The Do-All Ax” (1957) 124
Part II The Rebellious Apprentice Tales
Early Tales
Ovid, “Erysichthon and Mestra” (8 CE) 129
Rachel Harriette Busk, “The Saga of the Well-and-Wise-Walking Khan” (ca. 3rd Century to 11th Century) 136
Somadeva, “Bhavašarman and the Two Witches” (ca. 1070) 140
Farīd al-Dīn ʿAttār, “The Magician’s Apprentice” (ca. 1220) 142
Giovan Francesco Straparola, “Maestro Lattantio and His Apprentice Dionigi” (1553) 144
Sangendhi Mahalingam Natesa Sastri, “The Deceiver Shall Be Deceived” (ca. 1770) 151
Nineteenth-Century Tales
Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, “The Nimble Thief and His Master” (1819) 163
Kazimierz Wladyslaw Woycicki, “The Sorcerer and His Apprentice” (1839) 166
Arthur and Albert Schott, “The Devil and His Pupil” (1845) 169
Ludwig Bechstein, “The Magic Combat” (1857) 174
Johann Georg von Hahn, “The Teacher and His Pupil” (1864) 178
Giuseppe Pitrè, “The Tuft of Wild Beet” (1875) 184
Domenico Comparetti, “Oh, Relief!” (1875) 190
François-Marie Luzel, “The Magician and His Servant” (1885) 193
George Webbe Dasent, “Farmer Weathersky” (1888) 202
Jerome Curtin, “The Fisherman’s Son and the Gruagach of Tricks” (1890) 209
Edith Hodgetts, “The Wonderful Trade” (1890) 218
Charles Swynnerton, “The Story of Ali the Merchant and the Brahmin” (1892) 227
Twentieth-Century Tales
Leo Wiener, “The Tale of the Sorcerer” (1902) 243
Joseph Charles Mardrus, “The Twelfth Captain’s Tale” (ca. 1904) 247
Fletcher Gardner, “The Battle of the Enchanters” (1907) 253
Peter Buchan, “The Black King of Morocco” (1908) 254
Cecil Henry Bompas, “The Boy Who Learnt Magic” (1909) 257
Edith Nesbit, “The Magician’s Heart” (1912) 260
Claude-Marius Barbeau, “The Two Magicians” (1916) 272
Hermann Hesse, “The Forest Dweller” (1917) 274
Heywood Broun, “Red Magic” (1921) 281
Dean Fansler, “The Mysterious Book” (1921) 286
Elsie Clews Parsons, “The Battle of the Enchanters” (1923) 289
Romuald Pramberger, “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” (1926) 293
Seumas MacManus, “The Mistress of Magic” (1926) 296
Joseph Médard Carrière, “The Two Magicians” (1937) 306
John Mason Brewer, “The High Sheriff and His Servant” (1958) 311
Corinne Saucier, “The Man and His Son” (1962) 312
A. K. Ramanujan, “The Magician and His Disciple” (1997) 313
Part III Krabat Tales
Joachim Leopold Haupt, “About an Evil Man in Groß-Särchen” (1837) 323
Michael Hornig, “Krabat: A Legend from Folklore” (1858) 324
Georg Gustav Kubasch, “Krabat” (1865) 326
Edmund Veckenstedt, “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, I” (1880; Recorded by Hendrich Jordan) 329
Edmund Veckenstedt, “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, II” (1880; Recorded by Alexander von Rabenau) 331
Johann Goltsch, “The Story about Krabat” (1885) 333
Georg Pilk, “The Wendish Faust Legend” (1900) 334
Jerzy Slizinski, “Krabat” (1959) 344
Biographies of Authors, Editors, Collectors, and Translators 349
Filmography 365
Bibliography 369
Selected and Chronological List of Sorcerer’s Apprentice Tales 387
Index 397
What People are Saying About This
"Jack Zipes has always been a kind of sorcerer himself, skilled in discovering, transforming, translating, and understanding the old tales of magic that appear in different but similar forms all over the world. This is a wonderful collection."—Alison Lurie, author of Don't Tell the Grown-Ups: The Subversive Power of Children's Literature"In this rich and wonderful anthology, Zipes makes a powerful case for the salience and enduring timelessness of the sorcerer tales, not only historically in light of the vastness of the variants that have come down to us but also because of the social, psychological, liberationist, and subversive relevance of the tales even today. This is a story whose ‘story' needs to be told."—Donald Beecher, Carleton University"Zipes's outstanding and important book presents a compelling look at the traditional tale ‘The Magician and His Pupil,' and the copious international, intercultural variations of this story. Readers will find trenchant insights and may be surprised to learn that a tale they thought they knew has much greater complexity than they imagined."—Pauline Greenhill, coeditor of Fairy-Tale Films Beyond Disney