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Bella

Critical Review of The Storyteller

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There were two small girls, one small boy, their aunt, and a bachelor in a railway carriage, the bachelor was a stranger to their group. The aunt kept talking and on and on nonstop, the children kept asking strange questions and singing, the aunt had been trying to let the kids calm down after several scowls and glares from the bachelor, at last, she found a way to make the children be quiet, only for a few moments though. Her story consisted of mostly infant life, about a mega good girl who was saved from a mad bull by rescuers who admired her goodness. The children, moaning throughout the story, had obviously not wanted to hear about anything of that sort and of course not enjoyed it. The aunt did not seem to know how to tell an interesting story, for the bachelor piped up out of the blue just to reclaim this statement, the aunt bristled, apparently offended. Then the bachelor “demonstrated” how to be a successful storyteller. This story had the exact same beginning as the aunt’s, but a completely different ending, it talked about a girl, who was so Horribly good that she won three medals clinking against one another apon her chest, more than all the children in town ever had. She was so good, that she was invited to the prince’s garden, where no children were ever allowed. There, she met a big, hungry wolf, she ran and ran until she found a myrtle bush and hid inside it. The wolf could not find the girl by the thickness and the strong smell of myrtle all around, he was just about to go away until he heard metal clinking, triumphant, he galloped back to the bush and dragged out the girl, and after a while, all that was left were the remains of her clothing, her ripped up shoes, and the three gleaming medals. The children loved the story, although the aunt made herself quite clear that it was the most improper story to tell children, and exclaiming that he had undermined the effects of years of careful teaching. In the end, the bachelor, leaving the train with a fuming aunt behind him, amused himself for a moment and told himself that this lady will live for an unhappy six months by his purposeful demonstration.


The first thing I learned is how to be an extremely good storyteller, there are three things I need to emphasize here. First, you need to add a lot of details in the story, the bachelor uses all kinds of detailed descriptions in his story of the good girl, for example: “There was a medal for obedience, another medal for punctuality, and a third for good behavior.” This describes the rewards she got for being so super-good. “She did all that she was told, she was always truthful, she kept her clothes clean, ate milk puddings as though they were jam tarts, learned her lessons perfectly, and was polite in her manners.” That describes exactly how good the girl was. But why do we include such details? Well, for one thing, we can’t just let our imagination wonder around like leaves in a breeze, especially for children. So adding these details makes it easier for us to picture exactly what is happening in the story, and also to prevent our imagination form becoming wondering souls. Second, we can learn a lot of interesting and attention-catching wording, the bachelor uses Horribly good to describe the little girl in his story, the word Horribly usually describes a bad thing, but putting together a bad adjective next to something that describes a good thing, usually makes people interested and attracts them to want to read more. There are also other expressions relating to this set, terribly good, awfully excellent, I think that these words are “deadly beautiful”. Last of all, I learned to become a good storyteller by interacting with the listeners, in the passage, the children asked stupid, idiotic questions that the aunt could not find an answer to at all, in the middle of the bachelor’s story, the children also asked the meaningless questions, however, the bachelor was able to dig out an answer in an instant.

"Why weren't there any sheep?" came the question from the boy.

The aunt permitted herself a smile, which might almost have been described as a grin.

"There were no sheep in the park," said the bachelor, "because the Prince's mother had once had a dream that her son would either be killed by a sheep or else by a clock falling on him. For that reason, the Prince never kept a sheep in his park or a clock in his palace."

The aunt suppressed a gasp of admiration.

This came from the middle of the passage where the children asked the questions that the aunt was not able to answer, but the bachelor did so by making up things in the story that the aunt didn’t even think of trying. This would have been an apt way to learn in telling a story.


The second thing I learned from this passage is the writing skills of the resolution, there is only one thing to emphasize here. It is the surprising part of the story, it gives the audience a deep impression and makes the ending unforgettable. “Unhappy woman!” he observed to himself as he walked down the platform of Templecombe station; “for the next six months or so those children will assail her in public with demands for an improper story!” This was the resolution of our passage, and in the middle of the passage, the author exclaimed that the bachelor was a hard, unsympathetic man, so when we put these together, we can find that the bachelor was intentionally telling the children a story what the aunt called “improper”, undermining several years of careful teaching. Why exactly did he do this, you might ask, at the beginning of the story, we can see that the aunt and her children were talking in loud voices, making unnecessary remarks and overreacting at perfectly normal things passing by, singing, and even telling a remarkably bad story that nobody wants to hear. All of these things were obviously annoying the bachelor, for he shot several glares and scowls in their direction, and telling this story was the bachelor’s “revenge” for annoying him. So this kind of writing skill emphasizes great writing skills in the resolution.


About Saki

Saki Haha was born in Burma, but he was brought up in Britan, Hector Hugh Munro or H.H. Munro, was his real name. His mother died when he was very young, therefor he was brought up by his strict aunts and his grandmother. He returned to England when his father retired, where Saki then moved to London to become a writer. He was a frequent contributor to many of Britain's newspapers and magazines, where he published short stories and political sketches. As a writer, he served as a foreign correspondent in Russia, the Balkans, and Paris. At 43 years old, and well after his writing career had taken off, Saki volunteered to enlist during World War I. He demanded to be a soldier, and he refused to allow injury or illness to keep him from the battlefield. He was killed by a German sniper in November 1916.

Saki's first book, The Rise of the Russian Empire, a historical study, was unsuccessful. It was also the only book published under his real name. However, while he was writing his first book he'd begun writing short stories, which would ultimately lead to his success as an author. He published his first short story in 1899, just before The Rise of the Russian Empire was released. Most of Saki's books were collected works of his short stories, plays, and political satires that had originally appeared in other publications. He also wrote novels including The Unbearable Bassington, The Westminster Alice, and When William Came. Some of his other books are anthologized collections of his short fiction, including Reginald in Russia and The Chronicles of Clovis. Saki was fairly prolific, writing over 100 short stories during his lifetime, which were his most popular works.

Saki was an expert at writing short stories, one of his most famous passages were Gabriel-Ernest and the storyteller. Saki's main writing style uses irony, imagery, and diction, where Saki finds flaws in the human behavior and characteristics like greediness, selfishness, and the way humans take things for granted and never takes care of what they have.

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