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The Crock of Gold
When a crock of gold belonging to the leprechauns of Gort na Cloca disappears, strange things begin to happen. Brigid and Seumas, the children of Philosopher and the Thin Woman of Inis Magrath are kidnapped; and even more unusual, the ancient god Pam is seen playing in the fields!
Attempting to find his children, the Philosopher undertakes a journey to seek the help of the mighty and mysterious god Angus Og. The journey abounds in fantastic adventures and weird sights, culminating in a great gathering of the clans and fairy creatures. There, Angus and a merry multitude of gods bring happiness once again to the folk of the enchanted countryside.
This delightful and unique fantasy established the reputation of the noted Irish poet and novelist James Stephens. Brimming with good humor, whimsy, and charm — along with a few serious observations that in no way detract from the story's magical qualities — The Crock of Gold is a wise and beautiful fairy tale for grown-ups. "Full of sympathy and tenderness and sly satire, of merriment and of poetry." — The New York Times . It is a classic of modern fiction that will enchant devotees of Celtic lore and fable lovers of all ages.
Attempting to find his children, the Philosopher undertakes a journey to seek the help of the mighty and mysterious god Angus Og. The journey abounds in fantastic adventures and weird sights, culminating in a great gathering of the clans and fairy creatures. There, Angus and a merry multitude of gods bring happiness once again to the folk of the enchanted countryside.
This delightful and unique fantasy established the reputation of the noted Irish poet and novelist James Stephens. Brimming with good humor, whimsy, and charm — along with a few serious observations that in no way detract from the story's magical qualities — The Crock of Gold is a wise and beautiful fairy tale for grown-ups. "Full of sympathy and tenderness and sly satire, of merriment and of poetry." — The New York Times . It is a classic of modern fiction that will enchant devotees of Celtic lore and fable lovers of all ages.
240 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1912
71 people are currently reading
1662 people want to read
About the author
James Stephens
394 books43 followersJames Stephens was an Irish novelist and poet. James' mother worked in the home of the Collins family of Dublin and was adopted by them. He attended school with his adopted brothers Thomas and Richard (Tom and Dick) before graduating as a solicitor's clerk. They competed and won several athletic competitions despite James' slight stature (he stood 4'10" in his socks). He was known affectionately as 'Tiny Tim'. He was much enthralled by tales of military valour of his adoptive family and would have been a soldier except for his height. By the early 1900s James was increasingly inclined to socialism and the Irish language (he could speak and write Irish) and by 1912 was a dedicated Irish Republican. He was a close friend of the 1916 leader Thomas MacDonagh, who was then editor of "The Irish Review", manager of the Irish Theatre and deputy headmaster in St Enda's, the radical bilingual Montessori school run by PH Pearse, and spent most with MacDonagh in 1911. His growing nationalism brought a schism with his adopted family.
James Stephens produced many retellings of Irish myths and fairy tales. His retellings are marked by a rare combination of humour and lyricism (Deirdre, and Irish Fairy Tales are often especially praised). He also wrote several original novels (Crock of Gold, Etched in Moonlight, Demi-Gods) based loosely on Irish fairy tales. "Crock of Gold," in particular, achieved enduring popularity and was reprinted frequently throughout the author's lifetime.
Stephens began his career as a poet with the tutelage of "Æ" (George William Russell). His first book of poems, "Insurrections," was published in 1909. His last book, "Kings and the Moon" (1938), was also a volume of verse.
During the 1930s, Stephens had some acquaintance with James Joyce, who mistakenly believed that they shared a birthday. Joyce, who was concerned with his ability to finish what later became Finnegans Wake, proposed that Stephens assist him, with the authorship credited to JJ & S (James Joyce & Stephens, also a pun for the popular Irish whiskey made by John Jameson & Sons). The plan, however, was never implemented, as Joyce was able to complete the work on his own.
During the last decade of his life, Stephens found a new audience through a series of broadcasts on the BBC.
James Stephens produced many retellings of Irish myths and fairy tales. His retellings are marked by a rare combination of humour and lyricism (Deirdre, and Irish Fairy Tales are often especially praised). He also wrote several original novels (Crock of Gold, Etched in Moonlight, Demi-Gods) based loosely on Irish fairy tales. "Crock of Gold," in particular, achieved enduring popularity and was reprinted frequently throughout the author's lifetime.
Stephens began his career as a poet with the tutelage of "Æ" (George William Russell). His first book of poems, "Insurrections," was published in 1909. His last book, "Kings and the Moon" (1938), was also a volume of verse.
During the 1930s, Stephens had some acquaintance with James Joyce, who mistakenly believed that they shared a birthday. Joyce, who was concerned with his ability to finish what later became Finnegans Wake, proposed that Stephens assist him, with the authorship credited to JJ & S (James Joyce & Stephens, also a pun for the popular Irish whiskey made by John Jameson & Sons). The plan, however, was never implemented, as Joyce was able to complete the work on his own.
During the last decade of his life, Stephens found a new audience through a series of broadcasts on the BBC.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 132 reviews
January 14, 2023
The Crock of Gold is an absurdist parable told in the fanciful style of fairy tales…
And of course they’ve cognized all the machinery of the universe… So one philosopher, deprived of the possibility to obtain further wisdom, decided to stop existing…
When the farmer’s wife had lost her washboard the farmer came to the other, still living, philosopher for advice… But, as the philosophy is a set of illogical and senseless reflections, the farmer, following the philosopher’s guidance, found not his wife’s washboard but the crock of gold belonging to the local leprechauns… And this crock of gold became a cause of philosopher’s misfortune and many misadventures…
After his young daughter disappeared farmer once again came to the philosopher… Soon the philosopher learns that the innocent girl eloped with the outlandish god Pan who arrived in the wood a few days ago… So he goes to meet Pan in order to persuade the deity to set the girl free…
Being no match to Pan’s reasoning the philosopher embarks on the journey to the ancient Irish god of love for help… Magnanimous god of love confiscates the girl for his own amorous use…
Returning home the philosopher encounters a young beautiful woman and has a sagacious philosophical discourse with her…
In the end love always defeats philosophy.
In the centre of the pine wood called Coilla Doraca there lived not long ago two Philosophers… Their faces looked as though they were made of parchment, there was ink under their nails, and every difficulty that was submitted to them, even by women, they were able to instantly resolve.
And of course they’ve cognized all the machinery of the universe… So one philosopher, deprived of the possibility to obtain further wisdom, decided to stop existing…
“There is no longer an horizon before my eyes. Space has narrowed to the petty dimensions of my thumb. Time is the tick of a clock. Good and evil are two peas in the one pod.”
When the farmer’s wife had lost her washboard the farmer came to the other, still living, philosopher for advice… But, as the philosophy is a set of illogical and senseless reflections, the farmer, following the philosopher’s guidance, found not his wife’s washboard but the crock of gold belonging to the local leprechauns… And this crock of gold became a cause of philosopher’s misfortune and many misadventures…
After his young daughter disappeared farmer once again came to the philosopher… Soon the philosopher learns that the innocent girl eloped with the outlandish god Pan who arrived in the wood a few days ago… So he goes to meet Pan in order to persuade the deity to set the girl free…
“Now, what is virtue?” –
Pan, who had listened with great courtesy to these remarks, here broke in on the Philosopher.
“Virtue,” said he, “is the performance of pleasant actions.”
The Philosopher held the statement for a moment on his forefinger.
“And what, then, is vice?” said he.
“It is vicious,” said Pan, “to neglect the performance of pleasant actions.”
“If this be so,” the other commented, “philosophy has up to the present been on the wrong track.”
Being no match to Pan’s reasoning the philosopher embarks on the journey to the ancient Irish god of love for help… Magnanimous god of love confiscates the girl for his own amorous use…
Returning home the philosopher encounters a young beautiful woman and has a sagacious philosophical discourse with her…
“Sir,” said the girl, “I know of two great follies – they are love and speech, for when these are given they can never be taken back again, and the person to whom these are given is not any richer, but the giver is made poor and abashed. I gave my love to a man who did not want it. I told him of my love, and he lifted his eyelids at me; that is my trouble.”
For a moment the Philosopher sat in stricken silence looking on the ground.
In the end love always defeats philosophy.
November 6, 2017
This is a hard book to describe. The plot, as much as there is one, involve two philosophers, a bunch of leprechauns, a crock of gold, two gods and police who can’t be bothered to investigate. It is a rambling book, where characters come and go as the author seemingly gets tired of them. The plot takes a backseat to philosophical conversations in which whatever character the philosopher meets will put their world outlook and it he will ignore them and put out his own (usually after they ask him a question and he responds with some variation of “I didn’t” or “I will not”).
If it is so rambling and unfocused plot, why give it four stars? As a literature professor of mine once said, “plot isn’t everything”. This book is not only hilarious, but many of its philosophical points are quite interesting. Some conversations go on way too long, but it feels very well thought out (or humorously and purposely not thought out at all depending on the character). The book is comedy gold (pun only slightly intended) with many laugh out loud moments and some great descriptions of the actions taking place.
Now, I must make note that I’m not from Ireland nor have I made a great study of Irish myths and legends. Thus I feel I missed out on part of it, as the story involves a great deal of folklore characters and without this knowledge, the last chapter especially is confusing. That said, much of it is straight forward and I do believe at least enough of them are common enough knowledge that most of the book will be easily understood.
All in all, this book is a joy to read. Extremely funny and thoughtful. I truly wish it was more well known. The book is in the public domain, so I highly suggest seeking out a copy.
If it is so rambling and unfocused plot, why give it four stars? As a literature professor of mine once said, “plot isn’t everything”. This book is not only hilarious, but many of its philosophical points are quite interesting. Some conversations go on way too long, but it feels very well thought out (or humorously and purposely not thought out at all depending on the character). The book is comedy gold (pun only slightly intended) with many laugh out loud moments and some great descriptions of the actions taking place.
Now, I must make note that I’m not from Ireland nor have I made a great study of Irish myths and legends. Thus I feel I missed out on part of it, as the story involves a great deal of folklore characters and without this knowledge, the last chapter especially is confusing. That said, much of it is straight forward and I do believe at least enough of them are common enough knowledge that most of the book will be easily understood.
All in all, this book is a joy to read. Extremely funny and thoughtful. I truly wish it was more well known. The book is in the public domain, so I highly suggest seeking out a copy.
September 19, 2007
I first started reading Stephens when I was studying in Ireland- this book is by far his best. You would do well to be familiar with Irish Mythology and his contemporary writers to understand a lot of the humor, as he pokes fun at both throughout the book. Like any book, you can read it on different levels and put it into different contexts, but at its base, The Crock of Gold is a really delightful fantasy/adventure that will make you wonder why Stephens is not more well known.
August 30, 2008
Picked it up at a garage sale because it looked magical, and indeed it was. Funny and lovely and unpretentious, flipping between lyrically wise and hysterically judgmental (would be offensive, e.g. on gender analyses, if the passages weren't clearly in character and deliberate, and were later evened out perfectly by flipping condemnation to the opposite party, and/or by developing into genuinely sage points). Loved the treatment of issues and philosophies, loved the internal seemingly digressive stories (either the sudden introduction of new characters who hijack a chapter or two before it returns to the established ones, or a cameo persona telling a new story within the narrative) which ultimately add up to the whole; as well as the totally fantastic and abstract nature and tempo of events which nonetheless feel rooted in the culture and explored philosophies.
A wonderful trophy, surprise, and read.
A wonderful trophy, surprise, and read.
May 10, 2018
Una favola come metafora della vita
Assurdo, fantastico, fantasmagorico, esilarante, non-senso, brillante, folle ed assolutamente intelligente! Questi sono gli aggettivi che mi vengono in mente quando penso a questa sorta di favola-geniale che è “La pentola dell'oro”.
Un viaggio sulla vita pieno di significati, attraverso un mondo fatato tra folklore e mitologia, filosofi, bambinetti, Dei, filastrocche e giochi di parole... un vortice magico che ci coinvolge dalla prima all'ultima pagina, che il grande scrittore Stephens (adesso capisco perchè era osannato da quel folle di Joyce!) ci sublima con una scrittura semplice, con qualcosa di unico... per chi vuole leggere qualcosa di insolito, per chi ama le favole ma non solo, questa “pentola” contiene una delizia vera e propria. Solo per veri buongustai!
Assurdo, fantastico, fantasmagorico, esilarante, non-senso, brillante, folle ed assolutamente intelligente! Questi sono gli aggettivi che mi vengono in mente quando penso a questa sorta di favola-geniale che è “La pentola dell'oro”.
Un viaggio sulla vita pieno di significati, attraverso un mondo fatato tra folklore e mitologia, filosofi, bambinetti, Dei, filastrocche e giochi di parole... un vortice magico che ci coinvolge dalla prima all'ultima pagina, che il grande scrittore Stephens (adesso capisco perchè era osannato da quel folle di Joyce!) ci sublima con una scrittura semplice, con qualcosa di unico... per chi vuole leggere qualcosa di insolito, per chi ama le favole ma non solo, questa “pentola” contiene una delizia vera e propria. Solo per veri buongustai!
May 4, 2008
I love these passages:
"A thought is a real thing and words are only its raiment, but a thought is as shy as a virgin; unless it is fittingly aparelled we may not look on its shadowy nakedness: it will fly from us and only return again in the darkness crying in a thin, childish voice which we may not comprehend until, with aching wings, listening and divining, we at last fashion for it those symbols which are its protection and its banner." (p. 39)
"Why should thought be apparent to us, so insistent? We do not know we have digestive or circulatory organs until these go out of order, and then the knowledge torments us. Should not the labours of a healthy brain be equally subterranean and equally competent? Why have we to think aloud and travel laboriously from syllogism to ergo, chary of our conclusions and distrustful of our premises? Thought, as we know it, is a disease and no more. The healthy mentality should register its convictions and not its labours. Our ears should not hear the clamour of its doubts nor be forced to listen to the pro and con wherewith we are eternally badgered and perplexed." (p. 86)
"Do you know that talk is a real thing? There is more power in speech than many people conceive. Thoughts come from God, they are born through the marriage of the head and the lungs. The head moulds the thoughts into the form of words, then it is borne and sounded on the air which has been already in the secret kingdoms of the body, which goes in bearing life and come out freighted with wisdom. For this reason a lie is very terrible, because it is turning mighty and incomprehensible things to base uses, and is burdening the life-giving element with a foul return for its goodness; but those who speak the truth and whose words are the symbols of wisdom and beauty, these purify the whole world and daunt contagion. The only trouble the body can know is disease. All other miseries come from the brain, and, as these belong to thought, they can be driven out by their master as unruly and unpleasant vagabonds; for a mental trouble should be spoken to, confronted, reprimanded and so dismissed. The brain cannot afford to harbour any but pleasant and eager citizens who will do their part in making laughter and holiness for the world, for that is the duty of thought." (p. 130)
"The ability of the Thin Woman of Inis Magrath for anger was unbounded. She was not one of those limited creatures who are swept clean by a gust of wrath and left placid and smiling after its passing. She could store her anger in those caverns of eternity which open into every soul, and which are filled with rage and violence until the time comes when they may be stored with wisdom and love; for, in the genesis of life, love is at the beginning and the end of things. First, like a laughing child, love came to labour minutely in the rocks and sands of the heart, opening the first of those roads which lead inwards for ever, and then, the labour of his day being done, love fled away and was forgotten. Following came the fierce winds of hate to work like giants and gnomes among the prodigious debris, quarrying the rocks and levelling the roads which soar inwards; but when that work is completed love will come radiantly again to live for ever in the human heart, which is Eternity." (p. 197)
"A thought is a real thing and words are only its raiment, but a thought is as shy as a virgin; unless it is fittingly aparelled we may not look on its shadowy nakedness: it will fly from us and only return again in the darkness crying in a thin, childish voice which we may not comprehend until, with aching wings, listening and divining, we at last fashion for it those symbols which are its protection and its banner." (p. 39)
"Why should thought be apparent to us, so insistent? We do not know we have digestive or circulatory organs until these go out of order, and then the knowledge torments us. Should not the labours of a healthy brain be equally subterranean and equally competent? Why have we to think aloud and travel laboriously from syllogism to ergo, chary of our conclusions and distrustful of our premises? Thought, as we know it, is a disease and no more. The healthy mentality should register its convictions and not its labours. Our ears should not hear the clamour of its doubts nor be forced to listen to the pro and con wherewith we are eternally badgered and perplexed." (p. 86)
"Do you know that talk is a real thing? There is more power in speech than many people conceive. Thoughts come from God, they are born through the marriage of the head and the lungs. The head moulds the thoughts into the form of words, then it is borne and sounded on the air which has been already in the secret kingdoms of the body, which goes in bearing life and come out freighted with wisdom. For this reason a lie is very terrible, because it is turning mighty and incomprehensible things to base uses, and is burdening the life-giving element with a foul return for its goodness; but those who speak the truth and whose words are the symbols of wisdom and beauty, these purify the whole world and daunt contagion. The only trouble the body can know is disease. All other miseries come from the brain, and, as these belong to thought, they can be driven out by their master as unruly and unpleasant vagabonds; for a mental trouble should be spoken to, confronted, reprimanded and so dismissed. The brain cannot afford to harbour any but pleasant and eager citizens who will do their part in making laughter and holiness for the world, for that is the duty of thought." (p. 130)
"The ability of the Thin Woman of Inis Magrath for anger was unbounded. She was not one of those limited creatures who are swept clean by a gust of wrath and left placid and smiling after its passing. She could store her anger in those caverns of eternity which open into every soul, and which are filled with rage and violence until the time comes when they may be stored with wisdom and love; for, in the genesis of life, love is at the beginning and the end of things. First, like a laughing child, love came to labour minutely in the rocks and sands of the heart, opening the first of those roads which lead inwards for ever, and then, the labour of his day being done, love fled away and was forgotten. Following came the fierce winds of hate to work like giants and gnomes among the prodigious debris, quarrying the rocks and levelling the roads which soar inwards; but when that work is completed love will come radiantly again to live for ever in the human heart, which is Eternity." (p. 197)
August 15, 2023
My thanks to libro.fm and Naxos AudioBooks for an ALC of this book to listen to and review.
Narrator did an excellent job, no quarrels there.
Unfortunately, the book he was narrating was a Crock of (Explanative deleted).
I wanted to throat punch the philosopher every time he said "I will NOT!"
This was WAY too silly and disjointed for me to enjoy.
1, this book was ALMOST perfectly named, star.
Narrator did an excellent job, no quarrels there.
Unfortunately, the book he was narrating was a Crock of (Explanative deleted).
I wanted to throat punch the philosopher every time he said "I will NOT!"
This was WAY too silly and disjointed for me to enjoy.
1, this book was ALMOST perfectly named, star.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
April 1, 2024
Why has no one told me about James Stephens before?
This daft Irish fairytale is everything one could hope for(at least, considering when it was written), with leprecauns (Stephens's spelling), gods, shee (again, his spelling), philosophers, policemen, and more. Hear ye the first part of the opening paragraph:
"IN the centre of the pine wood called Coilla Doraca there lived not long ago two Philosophers. They were wiser than anything else in the world except the Salmon who lies in the pool of Glyn Cagny into which the nuts of knowledge fall from the hazel bush on its bank. He, of course, is the most profound of living creatures, but the two Philosophers were enxt to him in wisdom. Their faces looked as though they were made of parchment, and every difficulty that was submitted to them, even by women, they were able to instantly resolve. The Grey Woman of Dun Gortin and the Thin Woman of Inis Magrath asked them the three questions which nobody had ever been able to answer, and they were able to answer them. That was how they obtained the enmity of these two women which is more valuable than the friendship of angels. The Grey Woman and the Thin Woman were so incensed at being answered that they married the two Philosophers..."
...and onward. The Women each bear a child, one a boy and one a girl, and nobody seems to know which is which. This is good, because when one Philospher and his wife, the Grey Woman, die, the remaining two care equally for the children.
The very next day, a neighboring farmer, Meehawl MacMurrachu, comes to their house with a problem: his wife's washing-board has been taken, possibily by fairies. After philosophizing for a while, and eliminating some possible offenses Meehawl might have made against the fairies, the Philosopher directs him to the tree where live the Leprecauns fo Gort na Cloca Mora (this being the source, apparently of Glocca Morra in the song). Here, Meehawl finds a crock of gold, which, as you might imagine, angers the Leprecauns no end, and at least as much at the Philosopher as at Meehawl.
While this is playing out, Meehawl's lovely daughter Caitilin runs off with Pan. (Just what Pan is doing in Ireland, of all places, is not immediately explained.) To resolve the issue, the Philosopher sets out to find Angus Og, the Celtic god of love...
...and things just get more and more complicated, but somehow everything works out. If I were to complain about anything -- other than the way Stephens writes about women (and about women and men), which is pretty much endemic to where and when he came from -- the final problem of the story, which I will not describe because _way_ spoilery, is resolved rather quickly and easily by a sort of deus (or something) ex machina. But all is, in the end, well.
Stephens is one of those writers who can grab you by the lapels, sit you down, and say, "Now, here's a story..." and fix you like the Ancient Mariner, not with a glittering eye, but by the power of his voice. I stayed up way too late the other night reading this, got up and, as soon as my necessary chores were done, read the rest. It's good stuff.
This daft Irish fairytale is everything one could hope for(at least, considering when it was written), with leprecauns (Stephens's spelling), gods, shee (again, his spelling), philosophers, policemen, and more. Hear ye the first part of the opening paragraph:
"IN the centre of the pine wood called Coilla Doraca there lived not long ago two Philosophers. They were wiser than anything else in the world except the Salmon who lies in the pool of Glyn Cagny into which the nuts of knowledge fall from the hazel bush on its bank. He, of course, is the most profound of living creatures, but the two Philosophers were enxt to him in wisdom. Their faces looked as though they were made of parchment, and every difficulty that was submitted to them, even by women, they were able to instantly resolve. The Grey Woman of Dun Gortin and the Thin Woman of Inis Magrath asked them the three questions which nobody had ever been able to answer, and they were able to answer them. That was how they obtained the enmity of these two women which is more valuable than the friendship of angels. The Grey Woman and the Thin Woman were so incensed at being answered that they married the two Philosophers..."
...and onward. The Women each bear a child, one a boy and one a girl, and nobody seems to know which is which. This is good, because when one Philospher and his wife, the Grey Woman, die, the remaining two care equally for the children.
The very next day, a neighboring farmer, Meehawl MacMurrachu, comes to their house with a problem: his wife's washing-board has been taken, possibily by fairies. After philosophizing for a while, and eliminating some possible offenses Meehawl might have made against the fairies, the Philosopher directs him to the tree where live the Leprecauns fo Gort na Cloca Mora (this being the source, apparently of Glocca Morra in the song). Here, Meehawl finds a crock of gold, which, as you might imagine, angers the Leprecauns no end, and at least as much at the Philosopher as at Meehawl.
While this is playing out, Meehawl's lovely daughter Caitilin runs off with Pan. (Just what Pan is doing in Ireland, of all places, is not immediately explained.) To resolve the issue, the Philosopher sets out to find Angus Og, the Celtic god of love...
...and things just get more and more complicated, but somehow everything works out. If I were to complain about anything -- other than the way Stephens writes about women (and about women and men), which is pretty much endemic to where and when he came from -- the final problem of the story, which I will not describe because _way_ spoilery, is resolved rather quickly and easily by a sort of deus (or something) ex machina. But all is, in the end, well.
Stephens is one of those writers who can grab you by the lapels, sit you down, and say, "Now, here's a story..." and fix you like the Ancient Mariner, not with a glittering eye, but by the power of his voice. I stayed up way too late the other night reading this, got up and, as soon as my necessary chores were done, read the rest. It's good stuff.
February 24, 2013
Written almost a century ago, but far surpassing in wit, poetry, and sublimation pretty much almost anything written since then. The Leprecauns of Gort na Cloca have their pot of gold stolen and for revenge kidnap the Philosophers' children Seamus and Brigid which sets into motion a series of events involving Angus Og, the Thin Woman of Inis Magrath, Pan, the fairy folk of the Shee, and the wise and profound musings of all involved. Tolkien meets Musil, and thus they steal "even the Intellect of Man...from the hands of doctors and lawyers".
October 28, 2022
Stāstu var lasīt vairākos slāņos. Ļoti patīk šādi stāsti, kur pārdabiskie spēki, dažādas dievības, piedalās notikumu gaitā. Paralēli stāstam var iepazīties ar autora filozofiskajiem uzskatiem par pasauli un cilvēka dabu. Man gan vēl kārtīgi jāpadomā par šo darbu.
March 29, 2012
With a recommendation like this from the genius that is Tom Robbins:
"Are you familiar with James Stephens and his amazing book, "The Crock of Gold"? The Harry Potter books are ABOUT magic, "The Crock of Gold" IS magic."
How could I refuse, so my last read was this magical book. It was perfect for me right from the outset - I love trees, I love magic, I love wisdom and I love Pan whom I first encountered in Tom's very own book 'Jitterbug Perfume' (another classic!) all of which are to be found within the pages of this wonderful book!
For those who are not aware of the book, there are but a few scant lines in wikepedia! The book was written whilst James Stephens was working as a clerk in a solicitor's office in Dublin in 1911. It comprises of 6 parts, during which you meet two philosophers and their wives and children, who for reason is best known to them, have swapped. Pan makes an appearance as do lots of leprechauns, gold is lost and found and in amongst all this you are treated to some most profound wisdom!
Such as:
“What the heart knows today the head will understand tomorrow”
― James Stephens, The Crock of Gold
"Women are wiser than men because they know less and understand more."
As you can tell by the later the book airs on the side of political incorrectness but to be honest I loved it all the more for it!
I lost myself in this book on a glorious sunny day and the next day went on a bike ride through the woods and pictured leprechauns hiding under all the tree stumps!
It's a magical read and I can't recommend it enough! Thanks again to Tom for the heads up! Made me want to read Jitterbug Perfume again too!
To close with what Tom had to say:
"I'd like to think that more readers, young and old, might discover the book. "
"Are you familiar with James Stephens and his amazing book, "The Crock of Gold"? The Harry Potter books are ABOUT magic, "The Crock of Gold" IS magic."
How could I refuse, so my last read was this magical book. It was perfect for me right from the outset - I love trees, I love magic, I love wisdom and I love Pan whom I first encountered in Tom's very own book 'Jitterbug Perfume' (another classic!) all of which are to be found within the pages of this wonderful book!
For those who are not aware of the book, there are but a few scant lines in wikepedia! The book was written whilst James Stephens was working as a clerk in a solicitor's office in Dublin in 1911. It comprises of 6 parts, during which you meet two philosophers and their wives and children, who for reason is best known to them, have swapped. Pan makes an appearance as do lots of leprechauns, gold is lost and found and in amongst all this you are treated to some most profound wisdom!
Such as:
“What the heart knows today the head will understand tomorrow”
― James Stephens, The Crock of Gold
"Women are wiser than men because they know less and understand more."
As you can tell by the later the book airs on the side of political incorrectness but to be honest I loved it all the more for it!
I lost myself in this book on a glorious sunny day and the next day went on a bike ride through the woods and pictured leprechauns hiding under all the tree stumps!
It's a magical read and I can't recommend it enough! Thanks again to Tom for the heads up! Made me want to read Jitterbug Perfume again too!
To close with what Tom had to say:
"I'd like to think that more readers, young and old, might discover the book. "
September 10, 2007
I listed this book although I don't own a copy now. I read it at my college library, perhaps out of curiosity piqued by its small hardbound copy, old and classical-looking, or maybe by the opening lines quoted here in Goodreads, which I have completely forgotten. But although I've forgotten the words, the magical glow of the experience of reading it comes back anytime I think of the book itself. And the sad part was I never read anything else of James Stephens since then. It was also the time when I was reading every William Butler Yeats poem I could find, and I found resonances in the older poet's "Song of the Wandering Angus." Thus not only did Stephens introduce me to Irish mythology (and his playful version of it), but The Crock of Gold is one of the books that first delighted me with endless possibilities of thought and language. I will try to find a new copy of it.
July 4, 2021
I have to agree with the blurb that's its truly uniqe, not like anything I've read before. Very entertaining and the good kind of odd. Never heard about it before and I really think it should be more talked about. Don't think I've took away as much as I could have done if I had known more about Irish folklore but still it's a magically good book!
September 26, 2021
Intriģējošs 1912.gadā publicēts pasaku, filozofijas, īru mitoloģijas un kristietības sajaukums par:
1. diviem Filozofiem ("Neviens pasaulē nespēja līdzināties viņiem gudrībā, izņemot lasi, kas mita Glānkagnī atvarā, kurā krīt gudrības rieksti no krastmalā augošā lazdu krūma"),
2. viņu sievām - Pelēko Sievieti un Kārno Sievieti ("Tā viņi izpelnīgās šo divu sieviešu ienaidu, kas ir vērtīgās par eņģeļu draudzību. Tas, ka Filozofi bija mācējuši viņām atbildēt, tik neganti satracināja Pelēko Sievieti un Kārno Sievieti, ka viņas apprecēja Filozofus"),
3. viņu bērniem ("Filozofs, kuram piedzima zēns, bija gauži priecīgs, jo, kā viņš izteicās, pasaulē sieviešu jau tāpat esot vairāk nekā vajag, bet Filozofs, kuram piedzima meitene, arī bija priecīgs, jo, viņš teica, labuma dzīvē nekad nevarot būt par daudz"),
4. Filozofa padomu Mīhālam Makmorahū, kas noved pie tā, ka leprehauniem tiek atņetms viņu zelts, un grāmatas otrajā pusē leperhauni ir spiesti iesaistīt policiju,
5. visskaistāko meiteni, kuru aizvīla dievs Pāns un kuru Filozofs gāja izglābt no Pāna uzmācības,
6. filozofiju un domāšanu, gan nopietni, gan ne pārāk ("Par saviem gremošanas orgāniem vai asinsriti mēs ij nezinām, pirms tie nav sākuši streikot, un tad šī zināšana sāk mūs mocīt. Vai veselīgu smadzeņu darbībai nevajadzētu būt tikpat dzili slēptai un tikpat pilnvērtīgai? Kāpēc mums vienmēr jādomā skaļi, smagi laužot ceļu no siloģisma uz spriedumu, šauboties par saviem secinājumiem un neuzticoties premisām? Doma, kādu mēs to pazīstam, nav nekas cits kā slimība. Veselīgam prātam jāpauž uzskati, nevis spriešanas mokas").
Grāmata principā tāds social commentary par 20.gs paša sākuma Īriju - attiecības starp vīriešiem un sievietēm, attiecības starp Īriju un Lielbritāniju, tradicionālo un moderno, attiecības starp "mazajiem cilvēktiem" un varu, attiecības starp domāšanu un darīšanu, prātu un jūtām. Brīžam ironiska ("To teicis, viņš atkal pievērsa acis deguna galam un prātu maksimai, un iegrima dziļā refleksijā, kurā nekas sēdēja uztupies uz nematerialitātes, un Viltprātības Gars bolīja acis uz ši mīklu"), brīžam smeldzīga ("Šīs svešās bēdas bija aptumšojušas arī viņas pašas laimi, līdz meitene apjauta, ka pasaulē nav nekā tāda, kas viņai būtu svešs, - ka patiesībā visi cilvēki, viss dzīvais un nedzīvais ir viņas brāļi un māsas un ka tie dzīvo un mirst ciešanās; tad viņa saprata, ka nav cilvēka, kas nenestu sevī visu cilvēci"), ļoti daudzslāņaina un poētiska.
"Ziņkāre spēj uzveikt bailes vēl labāk nekā drosme; patiesi, daudzus cilvēkus tā ir ievilinājusi tādās briesmās, kam fiziskā drosme būtu drebēdama metusi līgumu, jo tā nu tas ir, ka bads, mīlestība un ziņkārība ir dzīves lielākie virzītājspēki."
1. diviem Filozofiem ("Neviens pasaulē nespēja līdzināties viņiem gudrībā, izņemot lasi, kas mita Glānkagnī atvarā, kurā krīt gudrības rieksti no krastmalā augošā lazdu krūma"),
2. viņu sievām - Pelēko Sievieti un Kārno Sievieti ("Tā viņi izpelnīgās šo divu sieviešu ienaidu, kas ir vērtīgās par eņģeļu draudzību. Tas, ka Filozofi bija mācējuši viņām atbildēt, tik neganti satracināja Pelēko Sievieti un Kārno Sievieti, ka viņas apprecēja Filozofus"),
3. viņu bērniem ("Filozofs, kuram piedzima zēns, bija gauži priecīgs, jo, kā viņš izteicās, pasaulē sieviešu jau tāpat esot vairāk nekā vajag, bet Filozofs, kuram piedzima meitene, arī bija priecīgs, jo, viņš teica, labuma dzīvē nekad nevarot būt par daudz"),
4. Filozofa padomu Mīhālam Makmorahū, kas noved pie tā, ka leprehauniem tiek atņetms viņu zelts, un grāmatas otrajā pusē leperhauni ir spiesti iesaistīt policiju,
5. visskaistāko meiteni, kuru aizvīla dievs Pāns un kuru Filozofs gāja izglābt no Pāna uzmācības,
6. filozofiju un domāšanu, gan nopietni, gan ne pārāk ("Par saviem gremošanas orgāniem vai asinsriti mēs ij nezinām, pirms tie nav sākuši streikot, un tad šī zināšana sāk mūs mocīt. Vai veselīgu smadzeņu darbībai nevajadzētu būt tikpat dzili slēptai un tikpat pilnvērtīgai? Kāpēc mums vienmēr jādomā skaļi, smagi laužot ceļu no siloģisma uz spriedumu, šauboties par saviem secinājumiem un neuzticoties premisām? Doma, kādu mēs to pazīstam, nav nekas cits kā slimība. Veselīgam prātam jāpauž uzskati, nevis spriešanas mokas").
Grāmata principā tāds social commentary par 20.gs paša sākuma Īriju - attiecības starp vīriešiem un sievietēm, attiecības starp Īriju un Lielbritāniju, tradicionālo un moderno, attiecības starp "mazajiem cilvēktiem" un varu, attiecības starp domāšanu un darīšanu, prātu un jūtām. Brīžam ironiska ("To teicis, viņš atkal pievērsa acis deguna galam un prātu maksimai, un iegrima dziļā refleksijā, kurā nekas sēdēja uztupies uz nematerialitātes, un Viltprātības Gars bolīja acis uz ši mīklu"), brīžam smeldzīga ("Šīs svešās bēdas bija aptumšojušas arī viņas pašas laimi, līdz meitene apjauta, ka pasaulē nav nekā tāda, kas viņai būtu svešs, - ka patiesībā visi cilvēki, viss dzīvais un nedzīvais ir viņas brāļi un māsas un ka tie dzīvo un mirst ciešanās; tad viņa saprata, ka nav cilvēka, kas nenestu sevī visu cilvēci"), ļoti daudzslāņaina un poētiska.
"Ziņkāre spēj uzveikt bailes vēl labāk nekā drosme; patiesi, daudzus cilvēkus tā ir ievilinājusi tādās briesmās, kam fiziskā drosme būtu drebēdama metusi līgumu, jo tā nu tas ir, ka bads, mīlestība un ziņkārība ir dzīves lielākie virzītājspēki."
November 19, 2020
Surely one of the best (perhaps the best) fantasy novel written in English in the first half of the 20th Century? I know this is rather a large claim. It would place it at least equal to Jurgen by James Branch Cabell, The Worm Ouroboros by E.R. Eddison and Titus Groan by Mervyn Peake, but I believe that the claim is not at all outlandish. This novel is genuinely magical. It is also funny and very strange. The way that the world of everyday reality and the world of magic overlap and interact in its pages is very special. The novel is a picaresque, adventures following adventures and not all of them necessarily connecting with any other. But I enjoyed this free and easy approach to the narrative. It reminded me of Lord Dunsany at his most ironical; and in the brilliant episode with the policeman it also reminded me a little of Flann O'Brien.
September 30, 2015
It's easy to see after reading the Crock of Gold where Flann O"Brien spent his formative years. Aside from the pub, I mean, or in addition to it. Which is to say, in between the lines of a book wherein forest philosophers (and their long suffering wives) consider carefully the mystery of lost washboards, pursue recalcitrant leprechauns, seek redress from the ancient Angus Og, and finally battle wits with policemen. Though perhaps "wits" is overstating it. They are policemen, after all. (Sans bicycles, alas.)
Humorous and satirical, but shot through with a subtle vein of melancholy. A tad shaggy perhaps, but immensely entertaining.
Humorous and satirical, but shot through with a subtle vein of melancholy. A tad shaggy perhaps, but immensely entertaining.
July 30, 2015
A wondrous and delightfully odd little fantasy with leprechauns, philosophers, and gods. It reminds me a bit of the experience of reading The Wind In The Willows, because it is a book that refuses to settle on being only one thing. From section to section the book continually reinvents itself, while always remaining constant in its gentle charming spirit. I've also learned that James Stephens was Joyce's choice to complete Finnegans Wake, if Joyce became unable to do so, which is gleefully bizarre to imagine.
An unexpected discovery in a dusty used bookstore, this is a book I treasure.
An unexpected discovery in a dusty used bookstore, this is a book I treasure.
October 20, 2014
A really wonderful, unique book that I was lucky to discover. Stephens was James Joyce's appointee to finish the monumental Finnegans Wake in the event that Joyce was unable to do so. The book reminded me a bit of The Wind in the Willows--it seemed that several charming novels were happening at the same time. The plot (inasmuch as there is a central plot) hinges around philosophers and leprechauns, by the way. Utterly delightful.
February 15, 2009
Found an ancient copy of this book in Portland Oregon at Powells book store and what a find. A delightful story and storytelling. Full of wit and satire. Usually a book written during this time period is challenging to read but not so with Crock of Gold.
April 1, 2024
what a wonderful story. be not surprised if i answer ‘The Crock of Gold’ when you ask me my favourite book
gonna be rereading this one a couple million times i believe
gonna be rereading this one a couple million times i believe
February 7, 2022
This was sold to me as a comic novel (and by "sold to me" I mean I was convinced to download it from Project Gutenberg because it was on Michael Dirda's list), but it falls short on both comedy and novelness.
The first section (or "book") is mildly amusing, as the author gently mocks a couple of philosophers. But then he starts into his own philosophy, asserted (not argued) in a great many poetic words which boil down to "all men are rational, and all women are intuitive, and because of this all men and all women are inevitably at war forever, until they both manage to be both intuitive and rational (which has never yet happened), and then Paradise will come." Which is obvious nonsense, from a 21st-century perspective; during the time I was reading this, I had a great conversation with my very rational wife, in which we supported each other as equal partners in understanding and expressing our feelings. I'm aware that that would have been a lot less likely in early-20th-century Ireland, but that doesn't excuse unsupported generalizations about the nature of humanity.
As the book progresses - more as a series of disparate events that are loosely connected than as a plot, which is why I cast doubt on whether it's a novel - we get rural Irish life and some romanticism about it; a generous helping of Irish myth; and a not-at-all-comic exploration of what it looks like when there's no social safety net, with an old widow woman forced to wander the roads begging, and two thieves who turned to crime because they lost their jobs (one through illness, the other through age). The thin thread of what might generously be termed a plot involves one of the philosophers being framed for murder by leprechauns, who are angry at him for helping a neighbour steal their crock of gold. At the end, unable, apparently, to bring together Irish myth and contemporary Irish social injustices in any coherent way, the author declares (tells, rather than shows) a literal deus ex machina to finish his book.
I'm sure that if I was better acquainted with the Ireland of 1912, which I know very little about, or Irish myth, which I have only a passing knowledge of, I would have got more out of it. But the philosophy is bad (and tedious) whichever way you cut it, the story hangs together poorly through the shifting tone and disparate elements that aren't well integrated, and overall, for me, it was far too much crock and not nearly enough gold.
The first section (or "book") is mildly amusing, as the author gently mocks a couple of philosophers. But then he starts into his own philosophy, asserted (not argued) in a great many poetic words which boil down to "all men are rational, and all women are intuitive, and because of this all men and all women are inevitably at war forever, until they both manage to be both intuitive and rational (which has never yet happened), and then Paradise will come." Which is obvious nonsense, from a 21st-century perspective; during the time I was reading this, I had a great conversation with my very rational wife, in which we supported each other as equal partners in understanding and expressing our feelings. I'm aware that that would have been a lot less likely in early-20th-century Ireland, but that doesn't excuse unsupported generalizations about the nature of humanity.
As the book progresses - more as a series of disparate events that are loosely connected than as a plot, which is why I cast doubt on whether it's a novel - we get rural Irish life and some romanticism about it; a generous helping of Irish myth; and a not-at-all-comic exploration of what it looks like when there's no social safety net, with an old widow woman forced to wander the roads begging, and two thieves who turned to crime because they lost their jobs (one through illness, the other through age). The thin thread of what might generously be termed a plot involves one of the philosophers being framed for murder by leprechauns, who are angry at him for helping a neighbour steal their crock of gold. At the end, unable, apparently, to bring together Irish myth and contemporary Irish social injustices in any coherent way, the author declares (tells, rather than shows) a literal deus ex machina to finish his book.
I'm sure that if I was better acquainted with the Ireland of 1912, which I know very little about, or Irish myth, which I have only a passing knowledge of, I would have got more out of it. But the philosophy is bad (and tedious) whichever way you cut it, the story hangs together poorly through the shifting tone and disparate elements that aren't well integrated, and overall, for me, it was far too much crock and not nearly enough gold.
December 12, 2017
My first, earliest, and maybe deepest love in literature was the cozy British fantasy of C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien, but I'm much more likely to care about the writers who influenced them than the hundreds and thousands of the writers they influenced whether positively or negatively. I can't recall coming across a reference to James Stephens in the mountains of Lewisiana I consumed between the ages of ten and twenty, but his name's unmemorable enough that it would easily have slipped my notice; in any case, it's hard to imagine that the phantasy-obsessed Ulster-born Clive Staples wouldn't have been all over the most famous Irish fairy-tale novel of the 1910s, and its special brew of folkloric fantasy, vaudevillian repartee, and Yeatsian philosophizing.
I've owned a physical copy of The Crock of Gold for going on twenty years, and only got a few chapters into it before being distracted by other things; now, half a continent away from that stored book collection, I read a scanned public-domain copy on my iPad, a chapter a night, for over a month. It's been a lovely palate-cleanser, especially as set against some of the severer novels I've been reading concurrently. (Stay tuned.)
Part of the reason I abandoned it the first time through was disgust at Stephens' epigrammatic misogyny, more in the tiresome, jollying vein of a music-hall act complaining about the missus than in that of the high-brow Shavian wit he seems to aspire to. Spending a lot of time with 1910s fiction has probably desensitized me there, and I've been able to compartmentalize my reading so that I can appreciate Stephens' droll wit, vaulting imagination, and subterranean socialism despite the sexism; and on a much less articulate level, there are prefigurations of Narnia all over this book, but especially in the back half, and I'll probably never be able to not be thrilled by that.
I've owned a physical copy of The Crock of Gold for going on twenty years, and only got a few chapters into it before being distracted by other things; now, half a continent away from that stored book collection, I read a scanned public-domain copy on my iPad, a chapter a night, for over a month. It's been a lovely palate-cleanser, especially as set against some of the severer novels I've been reading concurrently. (Stay tuned.)
Part of the reason I abandoned it the first time through was disgust at Stephens' epigrammatic misogyny, more in the tiresome, jollying vein of a music-hall act complaining about the missus than in that of the high-brow Shavian wit he seems to aspire to. Spending a lot of time with 1910s fiction has probably desensitized me there, and I've been able to compartmentalize my reading so that I can appreciate Stephens' droll wit, vaulting imagination, and subterranean socialism despite the sexism; and on a much less articulate level, there are prefigurations of Narnia all over this book, but especially in the back half, and I'll probably never be able to not be thrilled by that.
July 28, 2022
Attirata da quanto letto in prima pagina: "James Stephens, poeta e narratore, è considerato uno dei maggiori scrittori irlandesi moderni. James Joyce sosteneva di formare con lui una coppia di gemelli celesti «nati alla stessa ora dello stesso giorno dello stesso anno nella stessa città»", ho acquistato "La pentola dell'oro" senza sapere altro.
é questa una storia che sa di favola e che con apparente leggerezza parla di Vita, di Bellezza, di Amore, di Compassione, di Bruttezza, di Forza, Saggezza (e altro) attraverso immagini alate e un linguaggio di piuma. Una leggerezza profonda, una carezza d'altri tempi, un invito alla riflessione sulla vita, la morte, la felicità e l'amore.
Una storia che inizia con due Filosofi e due donne ai confini del mondo abitato, limitrofi a specie fatate, e che termina con danze e con canti e un profondo sentimento di fratellanza e sympátheia.
é questa una storia che sa di favola e che con apparente leggerezza parla di Vita, di Bellezza, di Amore, di Compassione, di Bruttezza, di Forza, Saggezza (e altro) attraverso immagini alate e un linguaggio di piuma. Una leggerezza profonda, una carezza d'altri tempi, un invito alla riflessione sulla vita, la morte, la felicità e l'amore.
Una storia che inizia con due Filosofi e due donne ai confini del mondo abitato, limitrofi a specie fatate, e che termina con danze e con canti e un profondo sentimento di fratellanza e sympátheia.
March 11, 2017
Самое время перечитать Стивенза (прежде он был только в переводе Степана Печкина) – на фоне-то всего, что мы теперь знаем про Ирландию. Стивенз, как и раньше, великолепен: причудливая притча, идиосинкратическая история, разбегающаяся в разные стороны, все, как мы любим. Мервину Пику было у кого учиться, а Флэнну О’Брайену было над кем посмеиваться. Где-то внутри этого идеалистически-романтического манифеста идеальной естественной жизни и дебатов о взаимоотношениях полов (почему?) зашифровано послание о возрождении Великой Ирландии, но, ей-Энгусу, там все так прелестно, что лень разбираться.
January 30, 2010
This book changed my view on life.
April 20, 2018
Insegnamenti che non sono tali all'interno di realtà meravigliose, cellule incantate, in continua esplosione. Un lungo racconto lunatico.
February 5, 2021
It often happen, you want to read something but all the time there is no time and the circumstances do not add up, until the magic pendel will arrive. In fact. I have long been interested in this project of the publishing houses Dodo Press and Phantom Press under the auspices of the creative union of Shashi Martinova and Maxim Nemtcov.
With "The Crock of Gold", Shashi Martinova acted as a translator, making an excellent gift to the Russian-speaking readers. On the one hand, she is one of those who do not need additional certification, on the other - readers rarely pay attention to the names of those, who determined there attitude to foreign books. Therefore a few words: a wonderful translator; twice winner of the Nora Gal Prize; is known of the popularization of Irish culture, and everything that defines a special sens of Irishness. The translation is a fabulously good, and the smile is never left my fase the whole time I read it. Despite the fact, "The Crock of Gold" gives more reasons for sadness, than for laughter.
Особое чувство ирландскости
– Тебя кто-нибудь в нос пинает иногда? – спросил осел паука.
– Куды деваться, – ответил паук, – ты и тебе подобные бесперечь по мне топчутся – или валяются на мне, или катаются колесами тележными.
– Так а чего же ты не сидишь себе на стене? – спросил осел.
– Как бы не так, у меня там жена, – ответил паук, - Она меня съест. А мухи, что ни лето, делаются сметливыми да пугаными.
Отрывайте крылья мухам. На самом деле, эта вивисекторская строчка из "Вредных советов" Остера, будто специально придуманная в помощь герою диалога, очень мало соотносится с космическим гуманизмом "Горшка золота", проникнутого уважительным вниманием ко всякой живой твари, без различия социального статуса, пола, возраста, принадлежности к человеческому роду, уровня шерстистости или количества конечностей. Строчка про мух показалась не вовсе чуждой разговору Осла с Пауком, и во исполнение дополнительного задания в "Долгой прогулке" (кто в теме - поймет), позволившей свести первое знакомство с серией книг "Скрытое золото XX века".
Так часто бывает: хочешь что-то прочесть, да все времени не находится и обстоятельства не складываются, пока не прилетает волшебный пендель. Которым в моем случае стало игровое задание. Voila, год только начался, а я уже богаче на два горшка золота (первым был "Золотой горшок" Гофмана в январском туре, если что. И да, такая уж я Золотая Баба). А если серьезно, на самом деле, давно интересовалась этим проектом издательств "Додо Пресс" и "Фантом Пресс" под эгидой творческого союза Шаши Мартыновой и Максима Немцова.
С "Горшком золота" Шаши Мартынова выступила в роли переводчика, обеспечив русскоязычному читателю немалый бонус. С одной стороны, она из тех, кто в дополнительных аттестациях не нуждается, с другой - читатели редко обращают внимание на имена тех, кто определяет их отношение к иностранным книгам. Потому, несколько слов: прекрасный переводчик, дважды лауреат премии Норы Галь, известна подвижническим популяризаторством ирландской культуры и всего, что определяет Особое чувство ирландскости. Перевод сказочно хорош, и улыбка не сходила у меня с лица во все время чтения. Несмотря даже на то, что, "Горшок золота" дает больше поводов для грусти, чем для смеха.
Однако к роману. Эта книга, написанная Джеймсом Стивензом в начале прошлого века, плод исторического оптимизма, когда в Ирландии возрождалось национальное самосознание, а экономический подъем позволял надеяться, что перемены к лучшему неизбежны. Одновременно, это было временем первого литературного успеха Стивенза, когда в судьбе писателя, не знавшего с детства ничего, кроме неизбывной нищеты, забрезжил свет надежды.
Потому, несмотря на некоторую мрачность сюжета, "Горшок золота" являющий собой эталонный пример ирландского литературного фэнтези, оставляет светлое и ясное впечатление. Причудливое, удивительно органичное соединение мифов с реальностью, где сказочные создания, боги и герои действуют наравне с обычными людьми, представители закона вступают в схватку с лепреконами, а незатейливый сюжет, оплетаясь вязью сложных референций, обретает философское звучание.
Не то, чтобы считала пересказ непременно необходимым, но некоторое представление о структуре и событиях книги дать все же требуется. Классическое, хотя довольно условное, деление предполагает разбивку на шесть частей. 1. Пришествие Пана включает знакомство с героями, женитьбу двух философов-самоучек на Седой женщине и Тощей Женщине, одновременное рождение у них мальчика Шемаса и девочки Бригид (ах, это чудо рождения в один день с лучшим другом, позже Стивенз сделает его магическим артефактом собственной жизни, объявив своим днем рождения второе февраля вместо девятого, как на самом деле - чтобы праздновать в один день с Джеймсом Джойсом).
Далее обмен детьми, радостный уход из жизни старшего брата с женой; неразумный совет украсть золото леприконов, данный Философом Михалу Мак Мурраху; похищение лепреконами детей в отместку; возвращение детей Тощей Женщиной, которая сама из рода Ши (что бы это ни значило). И собственно приход Пана, который очаровывает игрой на свирели и уводит с собой юную пастушку. Немного о леприконах, эти гномы ирландской мифологии не вовсе чужие писателю, одним из его псевдонимов даже был "Леприкон" - очень маленького роста (крошка Тим, еще его звали), но пропорционально сложенный и очень спортивный, Стивенз брал кубки в составе своей команды.
2. Путешествие философа. Чтобы исправить зло, причиненное дурным советом, герой отправляется в путешествие, встречая по пути многих людей и мифических созданий (из них я только Кухулина опознала), с которыми щедро делится взятой в дорогу едой и вступает в разговоры, а когда своя пища заканчивается - не остается голодным. Прошедший тяжкий опыт обездоленности Стивенз, отдает приоритет взаимовыручке бедняков, их приверженности патриархально-общинным ценностям. В ходе странствия, герой делает богатые выводы из опыта своих скитаний, попутно меняя мнение по многим вопросам и переживая катарсис.
3. Два бога. Будучи ярким представителем ирландского национализма, автор противопоставляет в споре за благосклонность пастушки Пану условно общеевропейской традиции Энгуса Ога из родного, ирландского пантеона. Практически, его роль та же, что у Пана - молодость, любовь, лето, поэтическое вдохновение. Но вы уже догадались, кто победит.
4.Возвращение Философа во многом пересмотревшего свои взгляды по ключевым позициям отношения к жене и детям, хотя в остальном того же вахлака-идеалиста не от мира сего.
5. Полицейские. Взбешенные кражей у себя горшка с золотом, лепреконы пишут донос в полицию, обвиняя Философа в убийстве брата с женой. Явившиеся для его поимки полицейские представляют худшую ипостась буржуазного начала государственности: неумны, неуважительны, корыстолюбивы, жестоки. А две вставных новеллы - монологи узников в темноте, своего рода квинтэссенция бессловесности, как первого симптома лишения социальной и экономической значимости. Потеря речевой связности, по Стивензу, влечет за собой и практически приравнивается к потере связности общественной и утрате личностной самоидентификации (потере себя, как единой личности в прошлом, настоящем и будущем).
6. Счастливое шествие - единственная глава, которой Стивенз счел необходимым дать название, в моем понимании эпизод сотворения Нарнии из лучшей книги времен и народов другого ирландца, Клайва Стейплза Льюиса - прямая референция к финалу. Что до основной идеи, как мне кажется, она в том, что прежде политического и экономического освобождения, надобно освободиться из тюрьмы колонизированного ума. По возможности. распространив практику нестяжательства на представителей правящего класса и чиновничества - пусть побегают пешком.
With "The Crock of Gold", Shashi Martinova acted as a translator, making an excellent gift to the Russian-speaking readers. On the one hand, she is one of those who do not need additional certification, on the other - readers rarely pay attention to the names of those, who determined there attitude to foreign books. Therefore a few words: a wonderful translator; twice winner of the Nora Gal Prize; is known of the popularization of Irish culture, and everything that defines a special sens of Irishness. The translation is a fabulously good, and the smile is never left my fase the whole time I read it. Despite the fact, "The Crock of Gold" gives more reasons for sadness, than for laughter.
Особое чувство ирландскости
– Тебя кто-нибудь в нос пинает иногда? – спросил осел паука.
– Куды деваться, – ответил паук, – ты и тебе подобные бесперечь по мне топчутся – или валяются на мне, или катаются колесами тележными.
– Так а чего же ты не сидишь себе на стене? – спросил осел.
– Как бы не так, у меня там жена, – ответил паук, - Она меня съест. А мухи, что ни лето, делаются сметливыми да пугаными.
Отрывайте крылья мухам. На самом деле, эта вивисекторская строчка из "Вредных советов" Остера, будто специально придуманная в помощь герою диалога, очень мало соотносится с космическим гуманизмом "Горшка золота", проникнутого уважительным вниманием ко всякой живой твари, без различия социального статуса, пола, возраста, принадлежности к человеческому роду, уровня шерстистости или количества конечностей. Строчка про мух показалась не вовсе чуждой разговору Осла с Пауком, и во исполнение дополнительного задания в "Долгой прогулке" (кто в теме - поймет), позволившей свести первое знакомство с серией книг "Скрытое золото XX века".
Так часто бывает: хочешь что-то прочесть, да все времени не находится и обстоятельства не складываются, пока не прилетает волшебный пендель. Которым в моем случае стало игровое задание. Voila, год только начался, а я уже богаче на два горшка золота (первым был "Золотой горшок" Гофмана в январском туре, если что. И да, такая уж я Золотая Баба). А если серьезно, на самом деле, давно интересовалась этим проектом издательств "Додо Пресс" и "Фантом Пресс" под эгидой творческого союза Шаши Мартыновой и Максима Немцова.
С "Горшком золота" Шаши Мартынова выступила в роли переводчика, обеспечив русскоязычному читателю немалый бонус. С одной стороны, она из тех, кто в дополнительных аттестациях не нуждается, с другой - читатели редко обращают внимание на имена тех, кто определяет их отношение к иностранным книгам. Потому, несколько слов: прекрасный переводчик, дважды лауреат премии Норы Галь, известна подвижническим популяризаторством ирландской культуры и всего, что определяет Особое чувство ирландскости. Перевод сказочно хорош, и улыбка не сходила у меня с лица во все время чтения. Несмотря даже на то, что, "Горшок золота" дает больше поводов для грусти, чем для смеха.
Однако к роману. Эта книга, написанная Джеймсом Стивензом в начале прошлого века, плод исторического оптимизма, когда в Ирландии возрождалось национальное самосознание, а экономический подъем позволял надеяться, что перемены к лучшему неизбежны. Одновременно, это было временем первого литературного успеха Стивенза, когда в судьбе писателя, не знавшего с детства ничего, кроме неизбывной нищеты, забрезжил свет надежды.
Потому, несмотря на некоторую мрачность сюжета, "Горшок золота" являющий собой эталонный пример ирландского литературного фэнтези, оставляет светлое и ясное впечатление. Причудливое, удивительно органичное соединение мифов с реальностью, где сказочные создания, боги и герои действуют наравне с обычными людьми, представители закона вступают в схватку с лепреконами, а незатейливый сюжет, оплетаясь вязью сложных референций, обретает философское звучание.
Не то, чтобы считала пересказ непременно необходимым, но некоторое представление о структуре и событиях книги дать все же требуется. Классическое, хотя довольно условное, деление предполагает разбивку на шесть частей. 1. Пришествие Пана включает знакомство с героями, женитьбу двух философов-самоучек на Седой женщине и Тощей Женщине, одновременное рождение у них мальчика Шемаса и девочки Бригид (ах, это чудо рождения в один день с лучшим другом, позже Стивенз сделает его магическим артефактом собственной жизни, объявив своим днем рождения второе февраля вместо девятого, как на самом деле - чтобы праздновать в один день с Джеймсом Джойсом).
Далее обмен детьми, радостный уход из жизни старшего брата с женой; неразумный совет украсть золото леприконов, данный Философом Михалу Мак Мурраху; похищение лепреконами детей в отместку; возвращение детей Тощей Женщиной, которая сама из рода Ши (что бы это ни значило). И собственно приход Пана, который очаровывает игрой на свирели и уводит с собой юную пастушку. Немного о леприконах, эти гномы ирландской мифологии не вовсе чужие писателю, одним из его псевдонимов даже был "Леприкон" - очень маленького роста (крошка Тим, еще его звали), но пропорционально сложенный и очень спортивный, Стивенз брал кубки в составе своей команды.
2. Путешествие философа. Чтобы исправить зло, причиненное дурным советом, герой отправляется в путешествие, встречая по пути многих людей и мифических созданий (из них я только Кухулина опознала), с которыми щедро делится взятой в дорогу едой и вступает в разговоры, а когда своя пища заканчивается - не остается голодным. Прошедший тяжкий опыт обездоленности Стивенз, отдает приоритет взаимовыручке бедняков, их приверженности патриархально-общинным ценностям. В ходе странствия, герой делает богатые выводы из опыта своих скитаний, попутно меняя мнение по многим вопросам и переживая катарсис.
3. Два бога. Будучи ярким представителем ирландского национализма, автор противопоставляет в споре за благосклонность пастушки Пану условно общеевропейской традиции Энгуса Ога из родного, ирландского пантеона. Практически, его роль та же, что у Пана - молодость, любовь, лето, поэтическое вдохновение. Но вы уже догадались, кто победит.
4.Возвращение Философа во многом пересмотревшего свои взгляды по ключевым позициям отношения к жене и детям, хотя в остальном того же вахлака-идеалиста не от мира сего.
5. Полицейские. Взбешенные кражей у себя горшка с золотом, лепреконы пишут донос в полицию, обвиняя Философа в убийстве брата с женой. Явившиеся для его поимки полицейские представляют худшую ипостась буржуазного начала государственности: неумны, неуважительны, корыстолюбивы, жестоки. А две вставных новеллы - монологи узников в темноте, своего рода квинтэссенция бессловесности, как первого симптома лишения социальной и экономической значимости. Потеря речевой связности, по Стивензу, влечет за собой и практически приравнивается к потере связности общественной и утрате личностной самоидентификации (потере себя, как единой личности в прошлом, настоящем и будущем).
6. Счастливое шествие - единственная глава, которой Стивенз счел необходимым дать название, в моем понимании эпизод сотворения Нарнии из лучшей книги времен и народов другого ирландца, Клайва Стейплза Льюиса - прямая референция к финалу. Что до основной идеи, как мне кажется, она в том, что прежде политического и экономического освобождения, надобно освободиться из тюрьмы колонизированного ума. По возможности. распространив практику нестяжательства на представителей правящего класса и чиновничества - пусть побегают пешком.
June 15, 2021
È un libro particolarissimo questo, che è un po' fiabesco e un po' filosofico. Tra folletti, lepracauni, il dio Pan, le divinità irlandesi, si muovono le vicende di due filosofi. E così anche i discorsi sui miti e le leggende assumono una complessità e una profondità che spiegano quella vera natura che si nasconde dietro i culti pagani, che spesso la narrazione cristiana ha contribuito a svilire con molti pregiudizi. C'è una riflessione sull'umano, sul senso delle cose, che seppur scritte da un autore novecentesco, ha il sapore di un sapere lontano nel tempo. O meglio ancora, come Senza Tempo.
August 13, 2018
Jocīga grāmata vārda labā nozīmē . Darbība tiek risināta tradicionālo (nevis mūsdienu to versiju) pasaku stilistiskā) un, godīgi sakot, reizēm pazaudēju pavedienu. Tomēr kopumā teksts liek domāt - un tieši par pašu domāšanu - un visu izlaist caur sevi. Turklāt grāmata ir izklaidējoša un brīžiem pat uzjautrinoša. Vienīgi žēl, ka šrifts tik mazs, teju vai lupu prasījās lasot.
June 22, 2025
This book surprised me even more. It is hilarious, thought-provoking, and very well written. Both of these books, the Darby O’Gill one and this one, move about in the space between Terry Pratchett and Lord Dunsany. Darby O’Gill’s fairies act very much like Pratchett’s Pictsies, and the author mixed that with the whimsical elements of a writer like Lord Dunsany. In The Crock of Gold we meet a bunch of leprechauns, but the main characters include a highly annoying philosopher who married a nagging witch, and this witch, named the Thin Woman of Inis Magrath, is a proto-version of Pratchett’s Esme Weatherwax.
Stephens’ writing is proto-Terry Pratchett almost in tone, with its odd characters, joking dialogue and unpredictability. But underneath the silliness lie wisdom and beauty. It is a very strange novel to pin down, because the plot is a chaotic and meandering, and actually follows an escalation of chaos as the leprechauns get into a feud with the humans, and the Great God Pan arrives in Ireland and steals a young maid. Meanwhile, the main characters which are the philosopher and the witch and their two children, are stuck in the middle of all this chaos and try to bring everything to a good end. The element of Lord Dunsany that can be found here is the dreaminess. The chapter in which the Great God Pan first appears and seduces a teenage girl away from her home is a masterclass of mesmerising, dreamlike storytelling.
Each character in this novel has an entirely different philosophy of life and a different way of speaking. Either highly analytical, or emotionally intelligent or animalistic, and the plot sometimes takes a back seat to letting these characters exchange some thoughts but that’s ok because their conversations are really vibrant. Some of them say the most hysterical things. The dialogues between the insufferable philosopher and his wife are hilarious. Then gods come into the picture, such as Pan and Angus Og (the Irish god of love), and their opinions are bewildering, which only increases their mystique.
The philosophising in this book is truly beautiful with wonderful imagery, but some of these characters, like the gods, make it terribly cryptic. Making it feel as if you are swept up into flights of imagination but losing which way is up or down. And Stephens ties all his statements about love, sense and emotion to masculine and feminine elements, to old-fashioned battle-of-the-sexes statements that may annoy readers. I suspect that the marriage between the philosopher and the witch and their exaggerated personalities is emblematic for Stephens for how he thinks about men and women.
I also lost some interest in the second half of the novel because a rhythm started to creep into the novel where the philosopher travels and meets people along the way who all have their little story to tell. I felt that these stories didn’t add much to the novel, which now has begun to meander so much that the plot feels lost. I was waiting for a resolution to reveal itself and the philosophising to calm down. The second half of the novel did not fulfil the promise of wonder and silliness that the first chapters put in front of me, and I can’t help but feel a little disappointed in the end. Still, this little novel surpasses in wit and beauty just about any popular fantasy written today.
I will end with two quotes for your consideration:
“A thought is a real thing and words are only its raiment, but a thought is as shy as a virgin; unless it is fittingly apparelled we may not look on its shadowy nakedness: it will fly from us and only return again in the darkness crying in a thin, childish voice which we may not comprehend until, with aching wings, listening and divining, we at last fashion for it those symbols which are its protection and its banner.”
“The ability of the Thin Woman of Inis Magrath for anger was unbounded. She was not one of those limited creatures who are swept clean by a gust of wrath and left placid and smiling after its passing. She could store her anger in those caverns of eternity which open into every soul, and which are filled with rage and violence until the time comes when they may be stored with wisdom and love; for, in the genesis of life, love is at the beginning and the end of things.”
Stephens’ writing is proto-Terry Pratchett almost in tone, with its odd characters, joking dialogue and unpredictability. But underneath the silliness lie wisdom and beauty. It is a very strange novel to pin down, because the plot is a chaotic and meandering, and actually follows an escalation of chaos as the leprechauns get into a feud with the humans, and the Great God Pan arrives in Ireland and steals a young maid. Meanwhile, the main characters which are the philosopher and the witch and their two children, are stuck in the middle of all this chaos and try to bring everything to a good end. The element of Lord Dunsany that can be found here is the dreaminess. The chapter in which the Great God Pan first appears and seduces a teenage girl away from her home is a masterclass of mesmerising, dreamlike storytelling.
Each character in this novel has an entirely different philosophy of life and a different way of speaking. Either highly analytical, or emotionally intelligent or animalistic, and the plot sometimes takes a back seat to letting these characters exchange some thoughts but that’s ok because their conversations are really vibrant. Some of them say the most hysterical things. The dialogues between the insufferable philosopher and his wife are hilarious. Then gods come into the picture, such as Pan and Angus Og (the Irish god of love), and their opinions are bewildering, which only increases their mystique.
The philosophising in this book is truly beautiful with wonderful imagery, but some of these characters, like the gods, make it terribly cryptic. Making it feel as if you are swept up into flights of imagination but losing which way is up or down. And Stephens ties all his statements about love, sense and emotion to masculine and feminine elements, to old-fashioned battle-of-the-sexes statements that may annoy readers. I suspect that the marriage between the philosopher and the witch and their exaggerated personalities is emblematic for Stephens for how he thinks about men and women.
I also lost some interest in the second half of the novel because a rhythm started to creep into the novel where the philosopher travels and meets people along the way who all have their little story to tell. I felt that these stories didn’t add much to the novel, which now has begun to meander so much that the plot feels lost. I was waiting for a resolution to reveal itself and the philosophising to calm down. The second half of the novel did not fulfil the promise of wonder and silliness that the first chapters put in front of me, and I can’t help but feel a little disappointed in the end. Still, this little novel surpasses in wit and beauty just about any popular fantasy written today.
I will end with two quotes for your consideration:
“A thought is a real thing and words are only its raiment, but a thought is as shy as a virgin; unless it is fittingly apparelled we may not look on its shadowy nakedness: it will fly from us and only return again in the darkness crying in a thin, childish voice which we may not comprehend until, with aching wings, listening and divining, we at last fashion for it those symbols which are its protection and its banner.”
“The ability of the Thin Woman of Inis Magrath for anger was unbounded. She was not one of those limited creatures who are swept clean by a gust of wrath and left placid and smiling after its passing. She could store her anger in those caverns of eternity which open into every soul, and which are filled with rage and violence until the time comes when they may be stored with wisdom and love; for, in the genesis of life, love is at the beginning and the end of things.”
Displaying 1 - 30 of 132 reviews