“Stone Soup,” engraving by Walter Melion for the cover of the first issue of Stone Soup Some Recipes for Stone Soup from 1732, 1808–and 2019! Boil stones in butter, and you may sip the broth. (Fuller 1732) ‘Give me a piece of paper’ (said the traveler) ‘and I’ll write it down for you,’ which he did as follows:—A receipt to-make Stone Soup. ‘ Take a large stone, put it into a sufficient quantity of boiling water; properly season it with pepper and salt; add three or four pounds of good beef, a handful of pot-herbs, some onions, a cabbage, and three or four carrots. When the soup is made the stone may be thrown away.’ Published in The American magazine of wit, 1808. The recipe published in 1808 is quite similar to the one in the version of the story made by the By Kids For Kids Story Time podcast in 2019. You can listen to their lively retelling of the tale on Megaphone here or at iTunes here! Origin of the Stone Soup Folktale Title page to the 1808 British magazine with the first English version of the Stone Soup story The Stone Soup story revolves around a clever man with a charismatic personality who can get people to help him when their first instinct is not to. This is the aspect of the story that folklorists have focused on. Folklorists place the Stone Soup story within the “clever man” category of the Aarne-Thompson-Uther folklore classification system that they use to organize the entire folkloric tradition. Stone Soup is an Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 1548 folktale. Where does the original Stone Soup story come from? Is it a genuine folk tale in the sense that it had a long life in an oral tradition before being published in print? Or is it a creation of authors writing for hire? Or a bit of both? I think it is probably a bit of both. The Stone Soup story does not appear in any of the major eighteenth- or nineteenth-century collections of folk tales. It wasn’t published by Charles Perrault or the Grimm brothers. The first version I have found, that of Madame de Noyer (1720), is the work of an internationally renowned writer. We will never know who “told her” the story, or whether she read it in a book that has not been identified, or whether she made the whole thing up! All of the early versions I have come across are already polished tales. None make the claim that they were collected from a peasant. If a strong oral tradition for the Stone Soup story existed in the 18th and 19th centuries it is probable that also referenced the fairly substantial body of published stories. The First Published Version: Madame de Noyer, France 1720 The first telling of the Stone Soup story that I have been able to locate is by a French woman, Madame de Noyer (1663–1719), a female journalist, a woman of letters and a dynamic personality who lived what can only be described as an interesting life. She seems to have been a woman who burned the candle at both ends. She lived in exile from France for the last part of her life, dying in Holland. Voltaire visited her in exile. Madame de Noyer’s version of the Stone Soup story, “Soupe au Caillou” (Madame du Noyer (1720), was published one year after she died, in a revised and expanded edition of collected letters that had been published a few years earlier. Madame de Noyer’s fame was so great that in French her version of the story is the most common version through the end of the nineteenth-century. You will find it in books that attribute it to other authors, but they rarely make the changes to her telling that are required to really claim authorship. Madame de Noyer begins her tale, as so many good storytellers do, with an element of mystery: “On me contoit l’autre jour que …” “Someone told me the other day that . . .” Her version of the story is set in Normandy, in northern France. Two Jesuits come to a farmhouse, but only the children are home. The Jesuits, who are hungry, convince the children that they are not begging for food, but in fact they are self-sufficient as they have a stone that makes soup. They tell the children that all they actually need is fire, a pot, and some water, and that their stone will do the rest. They remark that this is “curieux” and from that point the game is on. A fire is got ready, a pot put over, water is added, their stone is dropped in, and then, when the water is hot, this and that is asked for until, finally, a truly fabulous soup has been made. It is a story that always has a happy ending. Everyone always seems to have a good time making the soup, and the soup itself is always loved. In many versions the tramp (and it usually is a tramp) is asked for the recipe. In many other versions, like that of Madame de Noyer, all the neighbors and even all the other villagers are brought into the story. They attest to what a fabulous soup was made by a stone. Of course, nobody thinks that a stone can make soup. Nobody is tricked into feeding the stranger. The beggar is personable and is understood to be saying, “I’ll provide you some great entertainment in exchange for a meal.” As the banter surrounding the cooking was entertaining and by any standards the soup terrific, the making of stone soup always ends with smiles all around. Phillipe Barbe’s Version, France, 1771 Historic Stone Soup Story from 1771 in French by M. Barbe One characteristic of folktales is that they are contextualized by each teller. This is something the authors of the early Stone Soup stories clearly did. For example, the second version of the story was written by Phillipe Barbe (1723–1792) in his work Fables et
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Poetry Soup – Ep. 21: Extended Metaphor
https://stonesoup.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/09/Poetry-Soup-Ep.-21.MP3.mp3 Transcript: Hello, and welcome to Poetry Soup! I’m your host, Emma Catherine Hoff. Today, I’d like to talk about another literary technique that is often used in poetry – extended metaphor. Metaphor is a common technique in poetry, as well as in prose. It is a comparison between two things used to make a point or describe something bigger. The two objects being compared are called the tenor and the vehicle. The tenor is the thing the metaphor is talking about, while the vehicle is the comparison or the thing used to express the tenor. An extended metaphor, or conceit, is the same as a regular metaphor, but it is longer. Often, an entire poem can be one extended metaphor. The word conceit came around during the renaissance, in relation to themes in writing. Soon people began to use it as it is used now, as a word for a long metaphor. Extended metaphor is a technique that I have personally struggled with. It helps me a lot to see how other writers use this technique in their work. A popular example of extended metaphor is Shakespeare’s “Sonnet 18,” (“Shall I compare thee to a summers day”) where Shakespeare describes how long youth and beauty lasts by talking about how summer doesn’t last forever and eventually dwindles away. Though Shakespeare doesn’t mention youth outright, we are able to understand his meaning because of his extended metaphor. The poem goes: Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer’s lease hath all too short a date; Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm’d; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d; But thy eternal summer shall not fade, Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st; Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. Shakespeare writes that summer is beautiful, but only for a short while. A man’s life and youth, on the other hand, now that it is written about in poetry, will last forever. It is immortalized in words. We understand this from the comparison of human beauty with the beauty of summer. Shakespeare’s extended metaphor helps us understand the poem’s meaning. The type of conceit that Shakespeare uses is called the Petrarchan conceit, a type of extended metaphor where the speaker exaggerates his love for someone. However, this is not the only type of conceit. There is also a metaphysical conceit, which often talks about an abstract idea in terms of a concrete object. A metaphysical conceit often talks about a spiritual idea or about love. For example, in “The Coronet” by Andrew Marvell, the poem talks about a speaker who wants to weave a crown of flowers for Christ to wear to replace the crown of thorns placed on his head when he was crucified, only to realize that he should be humble and that the best Jesus Christ could do to his crown is to step on it. The poem says, “That they, while Thou on both their spoils dost tread,/May crown thy feet, that could not crown thy head.” In the case of Marvell’s poem, the crown – which is also meant to symbolize the poem itself – is a metaphor for pride. When the speaker should be humble, he is arrogant instead. Another example of an extended metaphor in poetry is in book 8 of “The Odyssey” by Homer. In this part of the poem, Odysseus is listening to a minstrel singing and is weeping because he is thinking of the war he has been through and all his comrades and men who have died. It goes, “And Odysseus let the bright molten tears run down his cheeks, weeping the way a wife mourns for her lord on the lost field where he has gone down fighting the day of wrath that came about his children. At sight of the man panting and dying there, she slips down to enfold him, crying out; then feels the spears, prodding her back and shoulders, and goes bound into slavery and grief. Piteous weeping wears away her cheeks; but no more piteous than Odysseus’ tears…” The extended metaphor in this stanza is the comparison of Odysseus crying because of all the struggles he has been through on his journey and all the men he has lost to a woman crying when her husband dies on a battlefield. However, the image of the dying husband and how it affects his wife is drawn out in detail, making it an extended metaphor rather than just a normal one. The woman sees her husband killed on the battlefield and rushes to him, but the metaphor continues, showing how she becomes a slave of the enemy. Similarly to the Shakespeare poem, it includes a hyperbolic element to help emphasize the depth of Odysseus’ feelings. A more recent poem that I think is a great example of an extended metaphor is “Tamer and Hawk” by Thom Gunn. The poems of Thom Gunn often take inspiration from those of John Donne, a poet who used extended metaphor in his poetry, often in the form of metaphysical conceits. Gunn’s poem uses the image of a hawk being domesticated so that it only does the bidding of its tamer to express being in love with someone and always thinking about only them. The entire poem is an extended metaphor. I thought I was so tough, But gentled at your hands, Cannot be quick enough To fly for you and show That when I go I go At your commands. Even in flight above I am no longer free: You seeled me with your love, I am blind to other birds— The habit
Poetry Soup – Ep. 20: Ekphrasis
https://stonesoup.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/08/Poetry-Soup-Ep.-20.MP3.mp3 Transcript: Hello, and welcome to Poetry Soup! I’m your host, Emma Catherine Hoff. In this episode, I’m going to do something different from what I normally do – instead of talking about a particular poem or poet, I’m going to be talking about a writing technique called ekphrasis. Ekphrasis is a literary device that involves the translation or adaptation of one media to another, or a different interpretation of it. For example, a poem written about or based on a painting is a type of ekphrasis, as is the opposite. From the Ancient Greeks to classical literature, ekphrasis has been used since the days of Homer and Plato (some of the first people to dabble in ekphrasis)! There are many examples of ekphrastic poetry and prose, as well as paintings (the famous painting by John William Waterhouse, called “The Lady of Shalott,” was based off of a poem of the same title by Alfred Tennyson). There are many different ways of writing “after” a painting. You can simply describe the painting, or you can use it as a sort of springboard, a jumping off point, to expand the story the picture is telling. You can even add dialogue to the scene in the painting, ultimately re-writing it and transforming it, or you can imagine what the artist is doing outside the frame. These are all examples of ekphrastic writing. Ekphrasis is not limited only to writing and painting, however. There have been examples of ekphrasis where music has been inspired by poetry, prose, or art, like the piano piece “Pictures at an Exhibition” by the composer Modest Mussorgsky. I use ekphrasis a lot when I write, especially with poetry. One of the first poems I published, titled, “The Ambassador,” was an ekphrastic poem, after the painting, “The Mute Orpheus,” by Giorgio De Chirico. The painting shows a robotic-looking figure sitting in a chair with a lyre on the ground next to it. The backdrop is a cluster of buildings devoid of people. In my poem, I blended a description of the painting with my own ideas about what could be happening. I focused a lot on the figure in the painting, who I referred to as “the ambassador.” To write the poem, I had to study the painting for a while and notice the small details. By doing this, I was able to draw comparisons between it and the things I’ve seen in real life. I wanted to show the feelings of the mysterious figure and talk about its thoughts. Some famous examples of ekphrastic poems are “Landscape with the Fall of Icarus” by William Carlos Williams and “Ode on a Grecian Urn” by John Keats. “Landscape with the Fall of Icarus” explores the scene of the famous Brueghel painting by the same title and talks about the perspective of the painter. The poem begins with the lines, “According to Brueghel/when Icarus fell/it was spring,” referencing the painter. Some famous works have examples of ekphrasis in them, even though you might not have noticed them! Both “The Odyssey” and “The Iliad” by Homer have descriptions of art in them, and “A Picture of Dorian Gray” by Oscar Wilde is written around a painting. Ekphrasis helps emphasize the connection between writing and other forms of art that has been written about and explored time and time again. The poem I talked about in the last episode of Poetry Soup, “Falling Upwards” by David Shapiro, suggested this by showing the beauty of music through writing, putting the two together. I’d like to share with you a poem of mine that was published in my poetry collection, “An Archeology of the Future.” The poem is called “A Photograph by Pedro Luis Raota,” and is about a photograph I saw that moved me. I’ll attach the photograph in the transcript below. The early death of the man behind the camera propels him to make everything live forever, for it all to be old, like the woman, barely looked at by anyone. And as the soldiers pass by, their guns heavy on their shoulders, the scene is immortalized in shadows and darkness. At home, he blurs the figures angrily, but they’re still marching through the streets, and the woman is somewhere else now, kneeling on the ground. Nobody looks at her, except the photographer, and he only has his camera, what good will that do her? Just a man who finds her interesting, but has nothing to offer other than her picture. Still, the photograph finds its way onto the wall, framed but then destroyed by what we will never know, and still the gray wall persists, people striding past it, the woman still there, the photographer gone, and suddenly, all the world had ever known was erased, and new things came quickly and startled the people. No longer would pictures be taken, they all declared. In this poem, I described the photograph (which was of an old woman sitting against a wall while silhouettes of soldiers pass her) and the things I saw in it, but I also thought about what the photographer was doing and how people reacted to it. So the poem talks about what’s outside the photo as well as the photo itself. Looking at the photograph through the lens of a poet, thinking about it in terms of a poem, made me better understand it. What was the photographer thinking when he took the shot? Who was this woman and what was she thinking? What did other people think of the picture? The black and white photograph seems very melancholy to me, highlighting the horrors of fighting and violence and how it affects other people. This is shown by the contrast of the woman solemnly sitting and the harsh, black shadows that the soldiers cast, complete with guns on their shoulders. I used poetry as a way of interpreting the photograph, which is part of the purpose of ekphrasis. Ekphrasis should change the way people see
Your Saturday Newsletter: June 1, 2024
Spoons (pen and watercolor) by John Gabriel Sperl, 11; published in the May/June 2024 issue of Stone Soup A note from Emma Wood Hello, Stone Soup readers! As many of you know, Conner and I both teach English to undergraduates at Xavier University in Cincinnati. Our semester ended in early May, and while, yes, we have been relaxing a bit, enjoying spending more time outside—running, hiking, and exploring various parks with our kids—we were both extremely excited to have some extra time for… more work! But work of a different kind: our various personal writing projects. It’s often difficult to know how to classify creative work—though it often feels like play, it can look an awful lot like work, and though it can look like play once it’s on the page, it often feels like work in the process. That said, the less time I have (and we do not currently have much time in this phase of our lives!), the more I value the time I am able to devote to my creative work—and the better I become at using that time effectively. I hope many of you will take your summer break not only to rest and recharge but also to devote yourself to your own personal work—whether that’s poetry or painting, songwriting or dancing, or everything in between. To help facilitate this creative work-play, you might consider signing up for a summer camp with Society of Young Inklings. There is something for everyone—filmmaking, playwriting, novel writing, short fiction, poetry writing, literary editing, writing memoir, and more. These classes are filled with such fun, enthusiastic, smart, creative kids excited to make and discuss art—I love teaching them and hope to meet some of you there. Spaces are limited, so be sure to sign up soon! I also have other news to share with you: a few weeks ago, I let you know that the annual book contest was being delayed. I regret to inform you that we have decided not to hold the contest this year; we are taking the year off so that we can reevaluate and improve the experience for young writers. Nurturing young writers through the book contest has been such a rewarding part of Stone Soup for all of us on the team, and we look forward to bringing the contest back stronger than ever next year. As we dive into this summer of creativity, I’m excited to see the incredible stories, plays, poems, and films that you all produce. Thank you for being part of the Stone Soup community, and here’s to a summer filled with inspiration and storytelling! Warmly, Executive Director, Stone Soup Explore our summer camps Playwriting June 17–20; 9–11 am PT The goal of this course led by Conner Bassett is to produce one 10-minute play. To help you do this, we will approach playwriting as a form of craft—grounded in dialogue, character, voice, setting, tone, conflict, action, and plot structure. This workshop will also emphasize a play’s arc: its beginning, turning point, and ending. Reality Hunger: An Introduction to Memoir June 24–27; 9–11 am PT In this class, led by Emma Wood, Executive Director of Stone Soup, we will read and write memoir and personal essays—in short form. We will consider how they work, ask questions about the ethical aspects of writing nonfiction (What if my mom reads it? What if I hurt someone’s feelings? What if my memory is “wrong”?), and—most importantly—experiment in the form with daily in-class writing prompts, sharing our work in a supportive, fun community. Literature in Miniature: A Study of Micro Fiction & Prose Poetry June 24–27; 1–3 pm PT Sometimes, the biggest ideas are best expressed in the tiniest of forms. In this workshop taught by former Stone Soup Blog Editor Caleb Berg, you will learn to condense your horizons into a style of writing perfected by writers like Lydia Davis, Daniil Kharms, Gertrude Stein, and many others. You will write multiple discrete pieces per day and finish the class with enough writing to fill up a chapbook. Intro to Poetry: The Image and the Line July 22–25; 9–11 am PT Emma Wood will also teach a class on poetry. Immerse yourself in what a poem is and what it can do. Students will write their own poetry, shaking themselves out of established modes of thinking. Filmmaking as Dialogue August 5–9; 9–11 am PT In this class taught by filmmaker Isidore Bethel, we’ll use the camera to facilitate and enrich our interactions with others – friends, family, animals, plants, and the world around us. Writing texts with a partner, recording and sharing short videos, and interpreting their meanings aloud will be starting points for developing individual and collaborative approaches to filmmaking. Editing and Revising Fiction August 5–9; 1–3 pm PT In this class taught by Stone Soup Editor in Chief Diane Landolf, you’ll learn how to think like an editor and make your stories the best they can be. We’ll discuss first paragraphs, character development, dialogue, story arc, and what makes a great sentence. Click here to peruse the entire selection of camps available; our friends at Society of Young Inklings are teaching a variety of additional courses, and more courses will be announced soon! Stone Soup is published by Children’s Art Foundation-Stone Soup Inc., a 501(c)(3) educational nonprofit organization registered in the United States of America, EIN: 23-7317498.