The Inheritance of the Inklings- Zeitgenössische Fantasy und Phantastik
Edited By Dieter Petzold
«Inklings» was the name of a group of Oxford scholars and writers; its best-known members were J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis. The German Inklings-Gesellschaft, founded in 1983, is dedicated to the discussion and dissemination of the works of these authors and of writers commonly associated with them and to the study of the fantastic in literature, film and the arts in general. The proceedings of the annual Inklings conferences are being published in yearbooks. This volume contains 12 papers presented at the 2012 conference in Wetzlar, «The Inheritance of the Inklings». They explore recent developments in fantasy fiction and other media. In addition, there are 5 general articles and numerous reviews.
Ingmarie Flimm: “BUT CRUEL IS SHE!” Der nicht-menschliche Blick in Matthew Arnolds “The Forsaken Merman”
Ingmarie Flimm, “But cruel is she!” Ingmarie Flimm “BUT CRUEL IS SHE!” Der nicht-menschliche Blick in Matthew Arnolds “The Forsaken Merman” The Forsaken Merman Come, dear children, let us away; Down and away below! Now my brothers call from the bay, Now the great winds shoreward blow, Now the salt tides seaward ﬂow; 5 Now the wild white horses play, Champ and chafe and toss in the spray. Come, dear children, let us away! This way, this way! Call her once before you go – 10 Call once yet! In a voice that she will know: ‘Margaret! Margaret!’ Children’s voices should be dear (Call once more) to a mother’s ear; 15 Children’s voices, wild with pain – Surely she will come again! Call her once and come away; This way, this way! ‘Mother dear, we cannot stay! 20 The wild white horses foam and fret.’ Margaret! Margaret! 266 Inklings-Jahrbuch 30 (2012) Come, dear children, come away down; Call no more! One last look at the white-walled town, 25 And the little grey church on the windy shore, Then come down! She will not come though you call all day; Come away, come away! Children dear, was it yesterday 30 We heard the sweet bells over the bay? In the caverns where we lay, Through the surf and through the swell, The far-off sound of a silver bell? Sand-strewn caverns, cool and deep, 35 Where the winds are all asleep; Where the spent lights quiver and gleam, Where the salt weed sways...
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