Wonder-Smith and His Son A Tale from the Golden Childhood of the World-Ella Young

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Story of King Arthur, in Twelve Tales 1h 39m 1 speaker 8 chapters transcribed 1 month ago
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What is the opening legend of the Gobon and his magical bag of tools?

Professor Devi Sridhar 0:00
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Lynette Calkins 0:30
Greeting forward and acknowledgements for The Wondersmith and His Son a tale from the golden childhood of the world. This is a Liberbox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox dot org Read by Lynette Calkins The Wondersmith and His Son A Tale from the Golden Childhood of the World by Ella Young. Greeting to the mountain of the wondersmith, Slive Golgen, in the county of Armah, Ireland, and to the Tawny Lioness, greeting also. Forward to the children who will read this book. The Gobensayer, whose other name was Mananon, whose other name was Golyan the Smith, was a great person long, long ago. He was a maker of worlds and a shaper of universes.
Lynette Calkins 1:26
Men said the stars were sparks from his anvil, white horses were sacred to him, and Luf's white hound, the sun, knew him as a master. People have forgotten about these things now, but in the thatched cottage in Gaelic speaking Ireland and Scotland, they talked about him and his son Luf and his daughter Anya. Men cutting turf in the bogs know about him. They say to each other as they leave off work Well, we may as well be shortening the road with a good story, said The way the Gobund's son shortened it. They are glad when they find someone who does not know how Anya tricked Baylor's messenger, and how she got the better of the Gobon himself. Because they want to have the pleasure of hearing a new person laugh at these stories and of laughing themselves all over again, just as if they were telling them for the first time.
Lynette Calkins 2:19
In County Clare, huddled between a stony mountain and a boulder strewn beach, where the Atlantic surges leap with a playful roar to the land after their long sea run from America, there is a little Gaelic speaking village. Its houses are small and low roofed, so that storm winds cannot get too firm a grip on them, and their yellow straw thatch is roped down and weighted with stones to keep the wind from shouldering it away. The people of that village know many stories of the Goban. He has even crept into their proverbs. If anyone tries to make a very hard bargain, they say to him Oh, you want the skin and the price of it, like the Gobon's son. They are quite sure it was in County Clare that the three crows let fall the magical bag of tools for the Gobon.
Lynette Calkins 3:09
And in County Clare that he carved the cat with two tails to show how clever he was to Other counties in Ireland are equally sure that the cat was carved within their own borders. It was in Ackle Island that I heard the first story about the Goben. It was told to me by an old man of eighty as he was guiding me along Ackle Head, a wild promontory with cliffs descending a thousand feet to the sea. He knew only two stories about the Gobin, but had heard that there were others. I made up my mind to get the others. It took me nearly twenty years to gather what I have in this book. Sometimes I could get no more than bits of a story, and I had to piece it together, and in parts fill it in. Sometimes I got the story almost as I have told it.
Lynette Calkins 3:58
The stories were told to me in Gaelic at times, at times in English. I heard them in cottages by turf fires, I heard them in brown sailed fishing boats and on rocky hillsides. They are mixed in my mind with sunshine and sweet air and wide open spaces. Lakes in Donegal, where fairy horses are said to hide. With pools in Connomora, where crested serpents called piasts lift their heads, and with glittering inlets of the sea and mountains in carry. I am revising these stories for publication in a country that is all delicate pale gold and And the ghost of pale gold

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