DP Tool Club 12/CD_ASCQ_12_0294.iso/vrac/manaliv1.zip/PUBLIST.TXT

Text File | 1993-10-28 | 16KB | 389 lines

                               * DISKS *

#1 - "The Hunting of the Snark" and "What the Tortoise Said to
Achilles" by Lewis Carroll; "The Tale of Ivan the Fool" by Leo
Tolstoy; "The Babe Unborn" by G.K. Chesterton; "Just So Stories" and
"Oak and Ash" by Rudyard Kipling.

#6 - "Lud-in-the-Mist" by Hope Mirrlees.

#7 - "The Exiles Club and Other Stories," by Lord Dunsany.

#8 - "Manalive" by G. K. Chesterton.

#9 - "Tales of the Long Bow" by G. K. Chesterton.

#10 - "Bethmoora and Other Stories", by Lord Dunsany.


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                   Details on the Books Listed Above


SNARK.TXT     "The Hunting of the Snark" by Lewis Carroll, together
              with some excerpts from {Through the Looking-Glass, and
              What Alice Found There}.  This marvelous narrative poem,
              probably Carroll's best work, contains some of the most
              quotable stanzas in English literature.

"Just the place for a Snark!" the Bellman cried,
  As he landed his crew with care;
Supporting each man at the top of the tide
  By a finger entwined in his hair.
...
They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
  They pursued it with forks and hope;
They threatened its life with a railway-share;
  They charmed it with smiles and soap.
...
They roused him with muffins--they roused him with ice--
  They roused him with mustard and cress--
They roused him with jam and judicious advice--
  They set him conundrums to guess.


TORTOISE.TXT  "What the Tortoise Said to Achilles" by Lewis Carroll.
              An amusing paradox which proves that all reasoning
              involves an infinite regress; a sequel to Zeno's
              paradox.

IVAN.TXT      "The Tale of Ivan the Fool" by Leo Tolstoy.

In a certain kingdom of a certain realm there once lived a rich
peasant.  And the rich peasant had three sons: Semyon the Soldier,
Taras the Big-Belly, and Ivan the Fool, and an unmarried daughter,
Malyana the Mute.  Semyon the Soldier went to war to serve the tsar;
Taras the Big-Belly went to a merchant in town to trade; and Ivan the
Fool stayed at home with his sister to break his back with hard work.

    Now the Old Devil was vexed that the brothers had not quarreled
over the sharing but had parted amicably.  He summoned three imps.
   "Look here," he said, "there are three brothers: Semyon the
Soldier, Taras the Big-Belly and Ivan the Fool.  They ought to have
quarreled, but instead they live in peace and friendship.  The Fool
spoiled the whole business for me.  You three go and take on those
three brothers, and stir them up so they'll tear one another's eyes
out.  Can you do this?"
   "We can," they said.
   "How will you do it?"
   "Like this: first we'll ruin them, and when they haven't so much as
a bone to gnaw on, we'll pile them into a heap -- and then they'll
start fighting."


UNBORN.TXT    "The Babe Unborn" by G.K. Chesterton.  A short poem in
              which a baby speculates about the marvelous things he
              will be able to see and do when he is born.


JUSTSO.TXT    _Just So Stories_ by Rudyard Kipling.  Twelve mythic
              stories of the High and Far-off Times, with twelve
              poems.

How the Whale Got His Throat
How the Camel Got His Hump
How the Rhinoceros Got His Skin
How the Leopard Got His Spots
The Elephant's Child
The Singsong of Old Man Kangaroo
The Beginning of the Armadillos
How the First Letter Was Written
How the Alphabet Was Made
The Crab That Played With the Sea
The Cat That Walked By Himself
The Butterfly That Stamped

Not always was the Kangaroo as now we do behold him, but a
Different Animal with four short legs.  He was gray, and he was
woolly, and his pride was inordinate: he danced on an outcrop in the
middle of Australia, and he went to the Little God Nqa.
   He went to Nqa at six before breakfast, saying, "Make me different
from all other animals by five this afternoon."
   Up jumped Nqa from his seat on the sand-flat and shouted, "Go
away!"

   In the beginning of years, when the world was so new and all, and
the Animals were just beginning to work for Man, there was a Camel,
and he lived in the middle of a Howling Desert because he did not want
to work; and besides, he was a Howler himself.  So he ate sticks and
thorns and tamarisks and milkweed and prickles, most 'scruciatingly
idle; and when anybody spoke to him he just said "Humph!"  Just
"Humph!" and no more.
   Presently the Horse came to him and on Monday morning, with a
saddle on his back and a bit in his mouth, and said, "Camel, O Camel,
come out and trot like the rest of us."
   "Humph!" said the Camel, and the Horse went away and told the Man.


LUD-MIST.ZIP  _Lud-in-the-Mist_ by Hope Mirrlees.  This
              excellent fantasy novel was first published in
              1926, and, sadly, has been out of print most
              of the time since.  No more!

"Leer," he said solemnly, when Dame Jessamine had left the room,
"there are a very queer things happening at that Academy... *very*
queer things."
   "Indeed?" said Endymion Leer, in a tone of surprise.
"What sort of things?"
   Master Ambrose gave a short laugh: "Not the sort of
things, if my suspicions are correct, that one cares to talk
about -- even between men.  But I can tell you, Leer, though
I'm not what one could call a fanciful man, I believe if I'd
stayed much longer in that house I should have gone off my
head, the whole place stinks with... well, with pernicious
nonsense, and I actually found myself, I, Ambrose
Honeysuckle, *seeing* things -- ridiculous things."
   Endymion Leer looked interested.
   "What sort of things, Master Ambrose?" he asked.
   "Oh, it's not worth repeating -- except in so far as it
shows that the fancies of silly overwrought women can
sometimes be infectious.  I actually imagined that I saw the
Senate room portrait of Duke Aubrey reflected on the
window.  And if *I* take to fancying things -- well, there
must be something very fishy in the offing."
   Endymion Leer's expression was inscrutable.
   "Optical delusions *have* been known before, Master
Ambrose," he said calmly.  "Even the eyes of Senators may
sometimes play them tricks.  Optical delusions, legal
fictions -- and so the world wags on."
   Master Ambrose grunted.  He loathed the fellow's
offensive way of putting things.
   But he was sore at heart and terribly anxious, and he
felt the need of having his fears dispelled, so, ignoring
the sneer, he said with a weary sigh: "However, that's a
mere trifle.  I have grave reasons for fearing that my
daughter has... has... well, not to put too fine a point on
things, I'm afraid that my daughter *has eaten fairy
fruit.*"
   Endymion Leer flung up his hands in horror, and then he
laughed incredulously.
   "Impossible, my dear sir, impossible!  Your good lady
told me you were sadly anxious about her, but let me assure
you such an idea is mere morbidness on your part.  The
thing's impossible."
   "Is it?" said Master Ambrose grimly; and producing the
slipper from his pocket he held it out, saying, "What do you
say to that?  I found it in Miss Crabapple's parlour.  I'm
not much of a botanist, but I've never seen purple
strawberries in Dorimare... Toasted cheese!  What's taken
the man?"
   For Endymion Leer had turned livid, and was staring at
the design on the shoe with eyes as full of horror as if it
had been some hideous goblin.


DUNSANY1.ZIP  "The Exiles Club and Other Stories," by Lord Dunsany.
              Twenty-eight stories and plays:

After the Fire
King Argimenes and the Unknown Warrior
The Assignation
Carcassonne
Charon
The Bureau d'Exchange de Maux
The Sphinx at Gizeh
The Demagogue and the Demi-Monde
The Exiles Club
The Gods of the Mountain
The Guest
The True History of the Hare and the Tortoise
The Laughter of the Gods
Why the Milkman Shudders When He Perceives the Dawn
Poltarnees, Beholder of Ocean
The Songless Country
The Sphinx at Gizeh
Spring in Town
Taking Up Picadilly
A Tale of the Equator
How the Enemy Came to Thlunrana
A Tale of London
The Watch-tower
Wind and Fog
The Workman
Thirteen at Table
The Three Infernal Jokes
The Three Sailors' Gambit

Charon leaned forward and rowed.  All things were one with
his weariness.
   It was not with him a matter of years or of centuries,
but of wide floods of time, and an old heaviness and a pain
in the arms that had become for him part of the scheme that
the gods had made and was of a piece with Eternity.
   If the gods had even sent him a contrary wind it would
have divided all time in his memory into two equal slabs.
   So grey were all things always where he was that if any
radiance lingered a moment among the dead, on the face of
such a queen perhaps as Cleopatra, his eyes could not have
perceived it.
   It was strange that the dead nowadays were coming in such
numbers.  They were coming in thousands where they used to
come in fifties.  It was neither Charon's duty nor his wont
to ponder in his grey soul why these things might be.
Charon leaned forward and rowed.
   Then no one came for a while.  It was not unusual for the
gods to send no one down from Earth for such a space.  But
the gods knew best.
   Then one man came alone.  And the little shade sat
shivering on a lonely bench and the great boat pushed off.
Only one passenger; the gods knew best.
   And great and weary Charon rowed on and on beside the
little, silent, shivering ghost.
   And the sound of the river was like a mighty sigh that
Grief in the beginning had sighed among her sisters, and
that could not die like the echoes of human sorrow failing
on earthly hills, but was as old as time and the pain in
Charon's arms.
   Then the boat from the slow, grey river loomed up to the
coast of Dis and the little, silent shade still shivering
stepped ashore, and Charon turned the boat to go wearily
back to the world.  Then the little shadow spoke, that had
been a man.
   "I am the last," he said.
   No one had ever made Charon smile before, no one before
had ever made him weep.


DUNSANY2.ZIP  "Bethmoora and Other Stories", by Lord Dunsany.
              Twenty-seven stories and plays:

How Ali Came to the Black Country
The Madness of Andelsprutz
The Beggars
Bethmoora
The Bird of the Difficult Eye
Blagdaross
The Day of the Poll
A Narrow Escape
The Field
The Glittering Gate
The Golden Doom
The Hashish Man
The Idle City
A Story of Land and Sea
The Loot of Loma
The Lost Silk Hat
The City on Mallington Moor
The Bad Old Woman in Black
How Plash-Goo Came to the Land of None's Desire
Poor Old Bill
The Long Porter's Tale
The Secret of the Sea
The Sword and the Idol
Where the Tides Ebb and Flow
The Unhappy Body
Idle Days on the Yann
In Zaccarath


MANALIV0.ZIP  _Manalive_ by G. K. Chesterton.  A delightful
              1912 novel by the author of _The Everlasting
              Man_ and the Father Brown mysteries.

"To begin with," he said, "this man Smith is constantly
attempting murder.  The Warden of Brakespeare College --"
   "I know," said Mary, with a vague but radiant smile.
"Innocent told me."
   "I can't say what he told you," replied Pym quickly, "but
I'm very much afraid it wasn't true.  The plain truth is
that the man's stained with every known human crime.  I
assure you I have all the documents.  I have evidence of his
committing burglary, signed by a most eminent English
curate.  I have --"
   "Oh, but there were two curates," cried Mary, with a
certain gentle eagerness; "that was what made it so much
funnier."
   The darkened glass doors of the house opened once more,
and Inglewood appeared for an instant, making a sort of
signal.  The American doctor bowed, the English doctor did
not, but they both set out stolidly towards the house.  No
one else moved, not even Michael hanging on the gate; but
the back of his head and shoulders had still an
indescribable indication that he was listening to every
word.
   "But don't you understand, Mary," cried Rosamund in
despair; "don't you know that awful things have happened
even before our very eyes.  I should have thought you would
have heard the revolver shots upstairs."
   "Yes, I heard the shots," said Mary almost brightly; "but
I was busy packing just then.  And Innocent had told me he
was going to shoot at Dr. Warner; so it wasn't worth while
to come down."
   "Oh, I don't understand what you mean," cried Rosamund
Hunt, stamping, "but you must and shall understand what I
mean.  I don't care how cruelly I put it, if only I can save
you.  I mean that your Innocent Smith is the most awfully
wicked man in the world.  He has sent bullets at lots of
other men and gone off in cabs with lots of other women.
And he seems to have killed the women too, for nobody can
find them."
   "He is really rather naughty sometimes," said Mary Gray,
laughing softly as she buttoned her old gray gloves.
   "Oh, this is really mesmerism, or something," said
Rosamund, and burst into tears.


LONGBOW0.ZIP   _Tales of the Long Bow_ by G. K. Chesterton.
              A 1925 novel about the impossible feats of the
              League of the Long Bow, and of the English
              Revolution of 19--.

These tales concern the doing of things recognized as
impossible to do; impossible to believe; and, as the weary
reader may well cry aloud, impossible to read about.  Did
the narrator merely say that they happened, without saying
how they happened, they could easily be classified with the
cow who jumped over the moon or the more introspective
individual who jumped down his own throat.  In short, they
are all tall stories; and though tall stories may also be
true stories, there is something in the very phrase
appropriate to such a topsy-turvydom; for the logician will
presumably class a tall story with a corpulent epigram or a
long-legged essay.  It is only proper that such impossible
incidents should begin in the most prim and prosaic of all
places, and apparently with the most prim and prosaic of all
human beings.
...
   "Did you propose to attend church without a hat, sir?"
asked the other.
   "Certainly not.  Most irreverent," said the Colonel.
"Nobody should neglect to remove his hat on entering
church.  Well, if I haven't got a hat, I shall neglect to
remove it.  Where is your reasoning power this morning?  No,
no, just dig up one of your cabbages."
   Once more the well-trained servant managed to repeat the
word "Cabbages" with his own strict accent; but in its
constriction there was a hint of strangulation.
   "Yes, go and pull up a cabbage, there's a good fellow,"
said the Colonel.  "I must really be getting along; I
believe I heard it strike eleven."
   Mr. Archer moved heavily in the direction of a plot of
cabbages, which swelled with monstrous contours and many
colours; objects, perhaps, more worthy of the philosophic
eye than is taken into account by the more flippant of
tongue.  Vegetables are curious-looking things and less
commonplace than they sound.  If we called a cabbage a
cactus, or some such queer name, we might see it as an
equally queer thing.
   These philosophical truths did the Colonel reveal by
anticipating the dubious Archer, and dragging a great, green
cabbage with its trailing root out of the earth.  He then
picked up a sort of pruning-knife and cut short the long
tail of the root; scooped out the inside leaves so as to
make a sort of hollow, and gravely reversing it, placed it
on his head.

             Coming Soon (query before ordering)

- More stories by Lord Dunsany.

- More stories by G. K. Chesterton: "The Poet and the
              Lunatics", "The Return of Don Quixote", "The
              Flying Inn", "The Club of Queer Trades," etc.

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revised 6/26/93