William Butler Yeats is generally considered to be Ireland’s greatest poet, living or dead, and one of the most important literary figures of the twentieth century. He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1923.
The Collected Works of W.B. Yeats Volume VI: Prefacesby William Butler Yeats
Prefaces and Introductions, Volume VI of The Collected Works of W.B. Yeats, brings together for the first time thirty-two introductions by Yeats to the works of such literary greats as William Blake, J.M. Synge, Lady Gregory, Oscar Wilde, Oliver St. John Gogarty, Lionel Johnson, and Rabindranath Tagore. The introductions, which span the Nobel laureate/i>/i>
Prefaces and Introductions, Volume VI of The Collected Works of W.B. Yeats, brings together for the first time thirty-two introductions by Yeats to the works of such literary greats as William Blake, J.M. Synge, Lady Gregory, Oscar Wilde, Oliver St. John Gogarty, Lionel Johnson, and Rabindranath Tagore. The introductions, which span the Nobel laureate's entire career, reflect the broad reach of Yeats's literary and cultural interests.
Writing of fairies, ghosts, and witches in his introduction to Fairy and Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry, Yeats discovers that they were still extant in Ireland, at least in 1888, "giving gifts to the kindly, and plaguing the surly." In his preface to Stories from Carleton he tells of that sweetest ginger of Gaelic tunes, Mary Carleton, who was once asked to sing the air "The Red-haired Man's Wife" and replied: "I will sing for you, but the English words and the air are like a quarreling man and wife. The Irish melts into the tune: the English does not." And in distinguishing the Irish from the English poets of his day in A Treasury of Irish Poetry in the English Tongue, Yeats remarks: "Contemporary Irish poets believe in spiritual life, invisible and troubling, and express their belief in their poetry. Contemporary English poets are interested in the glory, the order, the passion or the pleasure of the world."
Always insightful and often charming, Prefaces and Introductions reveals the breadth of Yeats's talent as essayist, critic, folklorist, and raconteur.
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GREAT! Do you know where the Warriors fan fic is about the cat who can tayst colors? If you do. Tell me because I forgot.
(Trebble, sorry but I already have plans on who turns out ot be the leader! I will put Goldenstone in the story, though.) <br> "Jaysong!" Winterpaw cried, dashing over to support her mentor. The snow was packed hard and icy where she landed, doing nothing to cusion the fall. There was hardly a trace of Jaysong's shallow breathing, and, predictably, she wasn't moving. <br> "Don't just stand there!" She meowed to Lilypaw and Jumpflare, both staring with their jaws wide open. Jumpflare was the first to speak. <br> "Don't move her." Critisism. Typical Jumpflare. "If she has an injury to her spinal cord, moving her would make it worse. Go fetch Oceanheart." Winterpaw nodded, racing as fast as her legs would take her, into camp. <br> "Oceanheart!" She yowled, not slowing down. "Come quick! Jaysong fell out of a tree and she's not moving." Oceanheart collected his herbs and joined Winterpaw in sprinting back to Jumpflare, Jaysong, and Lilypaw. <br> "Her breathing's better, but still shallow." Jumpflare declared, but Oceanheart pushed her aside. <br> "She has a concussion," he said immidiatly, "and she's unconcious. Jaysong might even have major parts of her spinal cord damaged. Jumpflare, help me lift her in the air and take her back to camp without moving the position she's in right now." <p> Back in camp, Oceanheart was treating Jaysong in the medicine den, and the camp was buzzing with thoughts about the prophecy. <br> “Sorry about Jaysong.” Dustpaw's voice startled her. “But I have something extrenely imprtant to talk about.” It was the last thing Winterpaw wanted to do. She was about to refuse, when he said something that caught her attention. “It's about the prophecy.” <p> Winterpaw was led by Dustpaw deep into the forest, almost into ScorchClan territory. <br> “Ok,” he began, “remember how Crystalsky was so proud that the first snowflake of leaf-bare landed on your nose that she announced it to the whole Clan?” <br> “No,” she muttered impatiently, “it happened the day I was born, of course I don't remember.” <br> “Good point,” he admitted dryly. “Ripplestar may not've, but I still believe that you albinism was the blessing. Crystalsky does, too. The snowflake landed on your nose before your eyes opened. I also think that you're part of the prophecy,” he said with a wide grin. “'The snowflake will shine light on WaterClan and warm the cold rocks it faces.' Like Oceanheart said, snowflakes don't cast light, and how can they warm rocks if they're cold? It's simple. It isn't a literal snowflake. The snowflake is you.” -Reflections♦