Apocryphal Tales

Apocryphal Tales

by Karel Capek

View All Available Formats & Editions

The stories in this collection tackle great events and figures of history, myth, and literature in unexpected ways, questioning views on such basic concepts as justice, progress, wisdom, belief, and patriotism.
 See more details below


The stories in this collection tackle great events and figures of history, myth, and literature in unexpected ways, questioning views on such basic concepts as justice, progress, wisdom, belief, and patriotism.

Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher

“Masterpieces of moral irony.” —Booklist, starred review

Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly
Each time a devoted reader approaches a newly published book by Capek (War with the Newts) it is with some trepidation. Is this the book that will show the Czech writer (1890-1938) to have had weaknesses, redundancies? If there is such a book, this isn't it. A page of one-line fables and a handful of short, lovely "Would-Be Tales" aside, the bulk of this volume is in the "Apocryphal Tales." Written over the course of 18 years, these parables and allegories use historical and legendary figures such as Hamlet, Napoleon and Don Juan to comment on current events or the general state of humanity. "The Death of Archimedes" and "Alexander the Great," written in the year preceding the Munich Pact, take a mordant look at political necessity used as a justification for conquest. Most often, Capek's stories plead for a forgiving humanity against inflexible idealism, whether on the part of individuals or governments. In the funny and very touching "The Ten Righteous," he takes his argument for leniency to God. Here, Sarah and Abraham, speaking in good pseudo-scriptural prose, try to compile a list of 10 righteous people who could redeem Sodom and Gomorrah: "Then spake Sarah, saying: `What do you have against Namuel? True, he's stupid, but he's pious.'" They can't, of course, find the requisite number of righteous, leaving Sarah to plead with her husband to go back to God and ask for mercy. Well-structured and concise, these little nuggets combine broad learning with sharp wit to make powerful moral statements. (June)
Library Journal
To expect the unexpected is sound advice for readers of the late Czech writer, especially in the collection of stories at hand. As in his delightful Tales from Two Pockets (LJ 6/1/94), Capek deals with the twin challenges of truth and justice. But while those stories were in the form of detective fiction, in these Capek draws upon events and characters from history, myth, religion, and literature, approaching familiar scenarios from new, imaginative perspectives, e.g., How did Jesus' famous miracle of the loaves and fishes affect local businessmen? Did Don Juan deserve his evil reputation? How did it feel to be in Pontius Pilate's sandals? In each tale, Capek, master of human psychology, demonstrates anew that times may change but human nature remains constant. Also included are the "Would-Be-Tales," charming narratives on the human condition, and a small selection of "Fables"wonderfully ironic observations on life. Comrada's contemporary American translation adds to the appeal of this thought-provoking collection which belongs in most libraries.Sister M. Anna Falbo, Villa Maria Coll. Lib., Buffalo, N.Y.
Kirkus Reviews
Apocryphal Tales ( paperback original; June 15, 1997; 199 pp.; 0-945774-34-6): Though not enough readers in the English-speaking world know it, the great Czech writer (18901938) rivals D.H. Lawrence and even arguably Chekhov for the amount of work of sustained excellence produced during a tragically brief lifetime. The present volume, an expanded edition (and new translation) of a book first published posthumously in 1945, adds a smattering of "Fables" and "Would-Be Tales" to the irreverently amusing title pieces, which offer ostensible "untold stories" about celebrated figures from Greek and Roman history and myth, the Bible, and Shakespeare. Alexander the Great's pragmatic rejection of his old tutor Aristotle's reverence for "reason and logic" and an outraged baker's complaint about Jesus' miracle of the loaves and fishes are only two of the deadpan surprises to be found in an unfailingly delightful book.

Read More

Product Details

Catbird Press
Publication date:
Sales rank:
Product dimensions:
5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x 0.59(d)

Read an Excerpt

The Death of Archimedes

As it happens, the story of Archimedes is not exactly as the history books have portrayed it. While it is true that he was killed when the Romans conquered Syracuse, it is not correct that a Roman soldier broke into his house to plunder it, and that Archim edes, absorbed in drawing some sort of geometrical figure, growled at him crossly: "Don't spoil my circles!" For one thing, Archimedes was not some absent-minded professor who didn't know what was going on around him; on the contrary, he was by temperament a true soldier who had invented war machinery for the Syracusans to defend their city. For another thing, the Roman soldier was not some drunken looter, but the educated and ambitious Staff Captain Lucius, who knew to whom he had the honor of speaking, and who had not come to plunder, but rather gave a military salute at the doorstep and said: "Greetings, Archimedes."

Archimedes raised his eyes from the wax tablet on which he was in fact drawing something and said: "What is it?"

"Archimedes," said Lucius, "we know that without your war machinery Syracuse wouldn't have held out for a month; as it is, we've had a rough two years because of them. Don't think we soldiers don't appreciate that. They're superb machines. My congratulations."

Archimedes waved his hand. "Please, they're nothing really. Ordinary hurling mechanisms—mere toys, that's all. Scientifically, they have little value."

"But militarily they do," said Lucius. "Listen, Archimedes, I've come to ask you to work with us."

"With whom?"

"With us, the Romans. Surely you know that Carthage is in decline. Why go on helping them? We'll teach them a lesson instead! You'd do better to be on our side, all of you."

"Why?" grumbled Archimedes. "As fate would have it, we Syracusans are Greeks. Why should we side with you?"

"Because you live in Sicily, and we need Sicily."

"And why do you need it?"

"Because we intend to control the Mediterranean Sea."

"Aha," Archimedes said, and he contemplated his tablet. "And why do you want to do that?"

"Whoever is master of the Mediterranean," said Lucius, "is master of the world. That's clear enough."

"And must you be masters of the world?"

"Yes. The mission of Rome is to be master of the world. And I'm telling you that it will be."

"Possibly," Archimedes said, and he rubbed out a line on his tablet. "But I wouldn't advise it, Lucius. Listen, to be master of the world—someday defending your position's going to be one big headache. It wouldn't be worth the effort, given all you'd have to do."

"No matter; we shall be a great empire."

"A great empire," muttered Archimedes. "Whether I draw a small circle or a large circle, it's still only a circle. There are still frontiers—you will never be without frontiers, Lucius. Do you think a large circle is more perfect than a small circle? Do you think you're a greater geometrician if you draw a larger circle?"

"You Greeks are forever playing with arguments," Captain Lucius objected. "We have another way of proving that we're right."


"Action. For instance, we have conquered your Syracuse. Ergo, Syracuse belongs to us. Is that a clear proof?"

"It is," Archimedes said, and he scratched his head with his stylus. "Yes, you have conquered Syracuse, except that it is not and never will be the same Syracuse it was before. It was a great and celebrated city, my good fellow; now it will never be great again. Poor Syracuse!"

"But Rome will be great. Rome must be the strongest of all the lands in the world."


"To maintain her position. The stronger we are, the more enemies we have. That's why we must be the strongest force."

"As to force," muttered Archimedes, "I'm a physicist of sorts, Lucius, and I'll tell you something. Force limits itself."

"What does that mean?"

"It's a sort of law, Lucius. When force is exerted, it limits itself by that action. The greater your force, the more of your strength you use up; and the time will come—"

"What are you trying to say?"

"Nothing, really. I'm not a prophet, Lucius, only a physicist. Force limits itself. More than that I do not know."

"Listen, Archimedes, you can't imagine the tremendous opportunities that working with us would open up for you in Rome. You could build the mightiest war engines in the world."

"You'll have to forgive me, Lucius; I'm an old man, and I still have one or two ideas I'd like to work on.—As you can see, I'm trying to design something right now."

"Archimedes, aren't you enticed by the idea of conquering the world with us and ruling it?—Why are you silent?"

"Sorry," Archimedes muttered, bent over his tablet. "What did you say?"

"That a man like you could conquer the world."

"Hm, the world," Archimedes said, engrossed in his drawing. "Please don't take offense, but I'm doing something more important here. Something more lasting, you see. Something that will truly endure."

"What is it?"

"Careful, don't smear my circles! It's a method for calculating the area of a sector of a circle."

Later it was reported that the learned Archimedes had met his death through an accident.

Read More

Customer Reviews

Average Review:

Write a Review

and post it to your social network


Most Helpful Customer Reviews

See all customer reviews >