The Art of the Story-Teller — Story, Setting & Ideas
Edition facts
Calculated from edition completeness, EPUB availability, text structure and catalogue metadata. Not a user rating.
Marie Shedlock's The Art of the Story-Teller opens with a preface by Earl Barnes that immediately establishes the book's dual focus: storytelling as both a science yet to be perfected and an enduring art. Barnes praises Shedlock's 'fine sense of literary and dramatic values' and her ability to interpret Daudet, Grimm, and Andersen with 'sympathetic interpretation, always restrained within the limits of the art.' This framing signals that the book will address not only technique but also the philosophical underpinnings of narrative.
The work is divided into two parts: a series of essays on the difficulties, essentials, and artifices of storytelling, followed by a collection of tales. Shedlock's voice is that of a seasoned practitioner who values both the child's instinct and the finished art of dramatic presentation.
The Defense of Fairy Tale Truth
Shedlock devotes considerable space to justifying fairy tales against objections of untruth or futility. She quotes Professor Bradley on poetry's 'conscious illusion' that sacrifices literal fact for 'a higher truth.' Then she applies this logic to specific tales: Cinderella's pumpkin coach represents the truth that 'we all travel in pumpkin coaches' when we escape our chimney corners through imagination. The transformation in Psyche is 'false to actual fact' but true to how 'love and courage can overcome most difficulties.'
She extends the argument to The Three Bears (fearlessness lessens danger) and Jack and the Bean Stalk (courage leads out of the commonplace). Notably, she acknowledges these interpretations are 'too subtle for the child' and should not be explained during storytelling; they serve instead to fortify the adult presenter against criticism. This layered approach—defending the tales on evolutionary and philosophical grounds while keeping the telling pure—reveals Shedlock's pedagogical sophistication.
When a Child Rejects Fairy Tales
In a section answering teachers' questions, Shedlock addresses the child who says he does not like fairy tales. She proposes three possible causes: a 'stolid, prosaic nature,' an inability to visualize the marvelous, or—most commonly—a fear of being asked to believe what his judgment resents as untrue, or a sense that rejecting such pleasure is 'grown-up.'
Her advice is diagnostic: for the first case, persevere to develop dormant imagination; for the second, teach that truth is many-sided; for the others, reassure the child that delight in fairy tales increases with age and experience. The passage is notable for its psychological nuance—Shedlock treats the child's resistance not as a simple deficit but as a complex response that may involve social pressure or cognitive discomfort. She does not prescribe a single method but urges the storyteller to discern the root cause before acting.
Structure and Voice in the Story Collection
The second part of the book contains stories such as 'Sturla, the Historian,' 'The Legend of St. Christopher,' 'Hafiz, the Stone-Cutter,' and 'The Blue Rose.' These are drawn from saga, folk tale, and literary sources, reflecting the range Shedlock advocates. The excerpts do not include full texts, but the table of contents reveals a deliberate mix: some tales are attributed (e.g., 'Three Stories from Hans Christian Andersen'), while others are anonymous folk narratives.
Shedlock's own voice in the essays is direct and teacherly, often using rhetorical questions ('What are you to do if a child says he does not like fairy tales?') and addressing the reader as a fellow educator. She avoids abstract theory in favor of concrete examples from well-known stories. The pacing of the essays alternates between brisk argument and reflective quotation, mirroring the rhythm of oral delivery she champions.
Shedlock's book is best read as a companion to practice, not a substitute for it. The essays reward attention to her recurring emphasis on restraint: the storyteller must suppress the urge to explain or moralize, letting the tale work its own effect. Readers interested in the history of education or children's literature will find here an early, articulate case for the imaginative life as a legitimate pedagogical goal.
How did this book work for you?
Your answers remain private and are stored only in this browser.