Oscar Wilde
Oscar Wilde (1854–1900) was a Dublin-born poet and playwright who studied at the Portora Royal School, before attending Trinity College and Magdalen College, Oxford. The son of two writers, Wilde grew up in an intellectual environment. As a young man, his poetry appeared in various periodicals including Dublin University Magazine. In 1881, he published his first book Poems, an expansive collection of his earlier works. His only novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray, was released in 1890 followed by the acclaimed plays Lady Windermere’s Fan (1893) and The Importance of Being Earnest (1895).
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The Picture of Dorian Gray Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5The Complete Works Of Oscar Wilde Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/550 Great Love Letters You Have To Read (Golden Deer Classics) Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Picture Of Dorian Gray Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A House of Pomegranates Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5The Greatest Christmas Stories of All Time: Timeless Classics That Celebrate the Season Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Comedies: Lady Windermere's Fan, An Ideal Husband, A Woman of No Importance, and The Importance of Being Earnest Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings50 Beautiful Christmas Stories Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Importance of Being Earnest: A Play Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5De Profundis Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Complete Works of Oscar Wilde Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Poems Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5The Picture of Dorian Gray Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Blood, Sperm, Black Velvet: The Seminal Book Of English Decadence (1888-1908) Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsGothic Classics: 60+ Books in One Volume Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsMy Own Dear Darling Boy: The Letters of Oscar Wilde to Lord Alfred Douglas Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsOscar Wilde: A Life in Letters Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Penny Dreadfuls MEGAPACK ®: 10 Classic Shockers! Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5
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Reviews for The Happy Prince and Other Tales
243 ratings8 reviews
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Oscar Wilde was wide-ranging in the literary forms he engaged and I've enjoyed many of his other works, but his fairy tales don't strike me as being one of his strengths. He was no Hans Anderson, not even J.K. Rowling (see: Beedle). But if you're looking for a purely Christian slant in classics for children, you can't do better than this.(4/5) The Happy Prince - A golden statue has opportunity to help his city with a bird's assistance. It's all about charity. Saw the 1974 animation as a kid, so the nostalgia won it some points. (3.5/5) The Nightingale and the Rose - A nightingale selflessly assists a young wooer. Love isn't love unless you're willing to die for it. Most kids won't grasp this without assistance. (3.5/5) The Selfish Giant - spring won't return to the giant's garden after he ejects a bunch of hooligans. Embrace Christianity for everlasting life. Made little impression on me when I was young, and none at all now. (3/5) The Devoted Friend - A tale about give-and-take that's entirely open to misinterpretation, thus the awkward framing story about the water rat.(3.5/5) The Remarkable Rocket - A supremely self-centered firecracker leaves no impression on anyone. A strange note to end on, but there it is.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A charming collection of children's stories with just a hint of Wilde's biting wit...
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/53.5 starsThis is a short book of five fairy tales. It was cute and very quick to read at less than 50 pages. Quite enjoyable!
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Touching set of stories.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Some of the stories are quite good.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Probably my favourite piece of children's literature. Lovely stories beautifully told, though very sad (some perhaps too sad for little children). Also a pretty edition with some gorgeous illustrations.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5It's hard to imagine a better reading of selections from the brilliant collection of Wilde's "The Happy Prince and Other Stories". Since the first time I heard one of these stories read by Sir John on the radio, his voice is the voice I hear in my head when I read anything from "The Happy Prince". Hearing these recordings is like having your grandfather tell you stories by the fireplace at night. If you can find this spoken word treasure, buy it!Os.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5So sad - so sad! Don't cry when reading the Happy Prince, because he is a statue with a heart, and that's a rare thing indeed.
Book preview
The Happy Prince and Other Tales - Oscar Wilde
The Happy Prince and Other Tales, by Oscar Wilde
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Title: The Happy Prince and Other Tales
Author: Oscar Wilde
Release Date: May, 1997 [EBook #902]
[This file was first posted on May 6, 1997]
[Most recently updated: May 12, 2003]
Edition: 10
Language: English
Transcribed from the 1910 edition by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk. Second proof by Paul Redmond.
THE HAPPY PRINCE AND OTHER TALES
Contents
The Happy Prince
The Nightingale and the Rose
The Selfish Giant
The Devoted Friend
The Remarkable Rocket
THE HAPPY PRINCE
High above the city, on a tall column, stood the statue of the Happy Prince. He was gilded all over with thin leaves of fine gold, for eyes he had two bright sapphires, and a large red ruby glowed on his sword-hilt.
He was very much admired indeed. He is as beautiful as a weathercock,
remarked one of the Town Councillors who wished to gain a reputation for having artistic tastes; only not quite so useful,
he added, fearing lest people should think him unpractical, which he really was not.
Why can’t you be like the Happy Prince?
asked a sensible mother of her little boy who was crying for the moon. The Happy Prince never dreams of crying for anything.
I am glad there is some one in the world who is quite happy,
muttered a disappointed man as he gazed at the wonderful statue.
He looks just like an angel,
said the Charity Children as they came out of the cathedral in their bright scarlet cloaks and their clean white pinafores.
How do you know?
said the Mathematical Master, you have never seen one.
Ah! but we have, in our dreams,
answered the children; and the Mathematical Master frowned and looked very severe, for he did not approve of children dreaming.
One night there flew over the city a little Swallow. His friends had gone away to Egypt six weeks before, but he had stayed behind, for he was in love with the most beautiful Reed. He had met her early in the spring as he was flying down the river after a big yellow moth, and had been so attracted by her slender waist that he had stopped to talk to her.
Shall I love you?
said the Swallow, who liked to come to the point at once, and the Reed made him a low bow. So he flew round and round her, touching the water with his wings, and making silver ripples. This was his courtship, and it lasted all through the summer.
It is a ridiculous attachment,
twittered the other Swallows; she has no money, and far too many relations
; and indeed the river was quite full of Reeds. Then, when the autumn came they all flew away.
After they had gone he felt lonely, and began to tire of his lady-love. She has no conversation,
he said, and I am afraid that she is a coquette, for she is always flirting with the wind.
And certainly, whenever the wind blew, the Reed made the most graceful curtseys. I admit that she is domestic,
he continued, but I love travelling, and my wife, consequently, should love travelling also.
Will you come away with me?
he said finally to her; but the Reed shook her head, she was so attached to her home.
You have been trifling with me,
he cried. I am off to the Pyramids. Good-bye!
and he flew away.
All day long he flew, and at night-time he arrived at the city. Where shall I put up?
he said; I hope the town has made preparations.
Then he saw the statue on the tall column.
I will put up there,
he cried; it is a fine position, with plenty of fresh air.
So he alighted just between the feet of the Happy Prince.
I have a golden bedroom,
he said softly to himself as he looked round, and he prepared to go to sleep; but just as he was putting his head under his wing a large drop of water fell on him. What a curious thing!
he cried; there is not a single cloud in the sky, the stars are quite clear and bright, and yet it is raining. The climate in the north of Europe is really dreadful. The Reed used to like the rain, but that was merely her selfishness.
Then another drop fell.
What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep the rain off?
he said; I must look for a good chimney-pot,
and he determined to fly away.
But before he had opened