The Adventures of Pinocchioby C. Collodi
Join Pinocchio as he learns what it means to be a real boy. Often his adventures are as harrowing and dangerous as real life. This is not the gentle world of Walt Disney, but a darker, richer world in which the good guy doesn't win just by showing up. See more details below
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Join Pinocchio as he learns what it means to be a real boy. Often his adventures are as harrowing and dangerous as real life. This is not the gentle world of Walt Disney, but a darker, richer world in which the good guy doesn't win just by showing up.
Read an Excerpt
How it came to pass that Master Cherry the carpenter found a piece of wood that laughed and cried like a child
There was once upon a time…
“A king!” my little readers will instantly exclaim.
No, children, you are wrong. There was once upon a time a piece of wood.
This wood was not valuable: it was only a common log like those that are burnt in winter in the stoves and fireplaces to make a cheerful blaze and warm the rooms.
I cannot say how it came about, but the fact is that one fine day this piece of wood was lying in the shop of an old carpenter of the name of Master Antonio. He was, however, called by everybody Master Cherry, on account of the end of his nose, which was always as red and polished as a ripe cherry.
No sooner had Master Cherry set eyes on the piece of wood than his face beamed with delight; and, rubbing his hands together with satisfaction, he said softly to himself:
“This wood has come at the right moment; it will just do to make the leg of a little table.”
Having said this he immediately took a sharp ax with which to remove the bark and the rough surface. Just, however, as he was going to give the first stroke, he remained with his arm suspended in the air, for he heard a very small voice saying imploringly, “Do not strike me so hard!”
Picture to yourselves the astonishment of good old Master Cherry!
He turned his terrified eyes all round the room to try and discover where the little voice could possibly have come from, but he saw nobody! He looked under the bench—nobody; he looked into a cupboardthat was always shut—nobody; he looked into a basket of shavings and sawdust—nobody; he even opened the door of the shop and gave a glance into the street—and still nobody. Who, then, could it be?
“I see how it is,” he said, laughing and scratching his wig. “Evidently that little voice was all my imagination. Let us set to work again.”
And taking up the ax, he struck a tremendous blow on the piece of wood.
“Oh! Oh! You have hurt me!” cried the same little voice dolefully.
This time Master Cherry was petrified. His eyes started out of his head with fright, his mouth remained open, and his tongue hung out almost to the end of his chin, like a mask on a fountain. As soon as he had recovered the use of his speech, he began to say, stuttering and trembling with fear.
“But where on earth can that little voice have come from that said Oh! Oh!? Here there is certainly no living soul. Is it possible that this piece of wood can have learnt to cry and to lament like a child? I cannot believe it. This piece of wood, here it is; a log for fuel like all the others, and thrown on the fire it would about suffice to boil a saucepan of beans…How then? Can anyone be hidden inside it? If anyone is hidden inside, so much, the worse for him. I will settle him at once.”
So saying, he seized the poor piece of wood and commenced beating it without mercy against the walls of the room.
Then he stopped to listen if he could hear any little voice lamenting. He waited two minutes—nothing; five minutes—nothing; ten minutes—still nothing!
“I see how it is,” he then said, forcing himself to laugh and pushing up his wig. “Evidently the little voice that said Oh! Oh! was all my imagination! Let us set to work again.”
Nevertheless, he was very frightened, so he tried to sing to give himself a little courage.
Putting the ax aside, he took his plane, to plane and polish the bit of wood; but while he was running it up and down he heard the same little voice say laughing:
“Have done! You are tickling me all over!”
This time poor Master Cherry fell down as if he had been struck by lightning. When he at last opened his eyes he found himself seated on the floor.
His face was quite changed; even the end of his nose, instead of being crimson, as it was nearly always, had become blue from fright.
Illustrations © 2002 by Gris Grimly
Meet the Author
Carlo Lorenzini, better known by the pen name Carlo Collodi (24 November 1826 - 26 October 1890), was a children's writer born in the Grand Duchy of Tuscany and writer of the world-renowned fairy tale novel The Adventures of Pinocchio.
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Most Helpful Customer Reviews
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This is in Spanish.
This is a beautifully illustrated edition of the classic story.
First off let me say this is one of the strangest tales I have ever read. It occurs in a strange world where puppets can talk, boys can turn into donkeys, and noses grow bigger when you lie. It is weird because I am usually not a fan of weird books like this but somehow the Adventures of Pinocchio manages to draw you into its world. It has unique characters, a whimisical plot, and a message at the end that can touch even the most sinister of hearts. The only reason I do not give this story a full five stars is because there are a few minor flaws to the story that I did not like. For instance Pinocchio saves the life of a dog and the dog promises him that he will return the favor. Instead of creating suspense with this moment the writer decides to have Pinocchio life be saved two pages after this event occurs. Also, the plot itself can be very confusing sometimes and seem to draw on and on. It is like the writers own insanity ends up catching up with him half the time. Still it is a very warm story and one that you can not help smiling after.