Mother Goose: Teller of Fairy Tales
Worlds of Wonder's Mother Goose has another difference between the legend and this version, in that she doesn't recite nursery rhymes. The stories she tells are fairy tales. In fact, Worlds of Wonder didn't touch nursery rhymes until a year later. Mother Goose not only tells and sings the stories, but also interacts with the characters.
Read more about this topic: The Talking Mother Goose
Famous quotes containing the words fairy tales, mother, teller, fairy and/or tales:
“What is a novel? I say: an invented story. At the same time a story which, though invented has the power to ring true. True to what? True to life as the reader knows life to be or, it may be, feels life to be. And I mean the adult, the grown-up reader. Such a reader has outgrown fairy tales, and we do not want the fantastic and the impossible. So I say to you that a novel must stand up to the adult tests of reality.”
—Elizabeth Bowen (1899–1973)
“For every nineteenth-century middle-class family that protected its wife and child within the family circle, there was an Irish or a German girl scrubbing floors in that home, a Welsh boy mining coal to keep the home-baked goodies warm, a black girl doing the family laundry, a black mother and child picking cotton to be made into clothes for the family, and a Jewish or an Italian daughter in a sweatshop making “ladies” dresses or artificial flowers for the family to purchase.”
—Stephanie Coontz (20th century)
“The teller of a mirthful tale has latitude allowed him. We are content with less than absolute truth.”
—Charles Lamb (1775–1834)
“... and the next summer she died in childbirth.
That’s all. Of course, there may be some sort of sequel but it is not known to me. In such cases instead of getting bogged down in guesswork, I repeat the words of the merry king in my favorite fairy tale: Which arrow flies for ever? The arrow that has hit its mark.”
—Vladimir Nabokov (1899–1977)
“The very nursery tales of this generation were the nursery tales of primeval races. They migrate from east to west, and again from west to east; now expanded into the “tale divine” of bards, now shrunk into a popular rhyme.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)