The Princess Bride: S. Morgenstern's Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure

The cover is so beautiful

Diese Verstümmelung eines Meisterwerks der Weltliteratur ist schwer zu ertragen. Ich hatte das Glück, die Originalfassung zu lesen, als ich unter Professor Bongiorno an der University of Columbia florinische Literaturwissenschaft und Florinistik studierte. Bereits die vollständige englische Übersetzung ist eine stark verfälschende Nachdichtung; doch diese Kurzfassung Goldmans, der sie frecherweise auch noch "the good parts version" untertitelt, schneidet gerade die Stellen heraus, die die Originalfassung so lesenswert machen und das Werk über viele moderne Titel heraushebt (nur als Beispiel: Die gesamte Packszene wurde ersatzlos gestrichen, und durch eine schnöde Nacherzählung in wenigen Sätzen ersetzt! Man stelle sich das vor, die Packszene!). Was bleibt also, nachdem die besten Stellen herausgeschnitten sind? Leider nur eine fantastische, spannende und mitreißende Erzählung, voller Witz und Augenzwinkern. Ich gebe zu, ich habe nach den ersten knapp 100 Seiten stark gezweifelt, ob das noch was wird - zu sehr gebraucht Goldman hier das Stilmittel des Einspruchs und der Anmerkungen des Übersetzers. Doch spätestens ab den Klippen des Wahnsinns zeigt sich, was für ein begnadeter Erzähler Goldman ist, und ab diesem Zeitpunkt lässt einen das Buch nicht mehr los. Westley, Inigo, Fezzik, Rugen, Prinz Humperdinck und Buttercup sind zwar alles Klischees in reinster Form - doch gerade das macht die Geschichte so liebenswert, und jeder kann sich mit einer der Figuren identifizieren (ich persönlich mag Vizzini den Sizilianer am liebsten). Eine wunderbare gestaltete Karte (die, soweit ich das beurteilen kann, auch geografisch 100% korrekt ist) dient sowohl der Orientierung als auch als Handlungszusammenfassung - tolle Idee. Zugegeben, man muss Goldmans Stil mögen, um das Werk wirklich schätzen zu können. Doch ich für meinen Teil bin überzeugt - und harre da voller Erwartung und Ungeduld, bis Stephen King endlich die Zusammenfassung für Morgensterns Fortsetzung, "Buttercup's Baby", fertig hat.

The Princess Bride is a multi POV story of action, adventure and love. It features the beautiful Buttercup, her true love Westley, the giant Fezzik, sword master Inigo Montoya, and more! I’ve always loved this movie and the book was everything I hoped it would be! A tiny bit darker than the film adaptation, the book is witty and fun, a great read for all ages.

Definitely recommend this book if you ever for any reason enjoyed the movie. Though the book is amazing by itself also, though be aware if you have trouble using your imagination since the fairytale is anything but mundane.

I looked out over the edge, down down down, and across the great Florin Channel. And, as I did, I wondered at the pure physical strength it would have taken to scale this rocky precipice, as one man with nothing but a rope, but also as a giant with three passengers strapped to his back. It happened though, as history is quick to point out, improbable though it might seem. I looked back at my two friends. I posed and made a funny face as the writer took my picture. Gerhard rolled his eyes and made a face back at me, snarky, but only in jest. Show some respect, that look seemed to say; these are the Cliffs of Insanity after all! This is my review of The Princess Bride; the book; not the original, mind you, but William Goldman’s abridged version of S. Morgenstern’s Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure: The way Gerhard always referred to The Princess Bride; the movie, you would have thought that it was a religion to him. He referenced it the way some people quote the Bible. It was amusing, but also annoying. I pointed it out to him one time, after a few drinks. “Inconceivable!” he replied, mimicking Wallace Shawn as Vizzini; the Sicilian. “You keep using that word,” I replied, as serious as I could be. Summoning my inner Inigo, I continued, “I do not think it means what you think it means.” My demeanor cracked then, and we both laughed. I admit, I am nearly as much a fan as he. I remember faking sick as a child, so that I could stay home from school and repeatedly watch the movie on VHS (this was after the invention of the television, but before DVD), over and over again, until I could recite, verbatim, the final confrontation between the Spaniard and the six-fingered man (“Hello,” I crooned, “My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.”). And so it went, and when it was suggested that the three of us – the writer, Gerhard, and I – take a trip to Florin (or modern day Germany, if you prefer), for the re-opening of the Zoo of Death, I was an easy sell. {This was back in 2009. At the time Gerhard was working as a Prep Cook. The economy was good. He had some savings in the bank, and it was not hard at all for him to get the time off work, even on short notice. As for myself; as of yet, I was not even a figment of his imagination, so it was not a problem for me either – same went for the writer.} Gerhard pulled up an old map online and, excitedly, we traced Westley’s journey and compared it to the trek that we were planning for ourselves. We compared it to a modern map that the writer had purchased and marveled, both at how much had changed over the centuries, but also at how much had remained; been preserved, from Morgenstern’s time. We booked our entire trip using Expedia, marveling at how simple the internet had made everything. We took advantage of a last minute sale, and prepared to leave the following Thursday. {It is worth noting that, although I had seen the movie, The Princess Bride, so many times that I could recite much of it by heart, I had not yet read the book. I was well aware of the positive reviews it had received, when it had first been published (in Florenese, of course), as well as in ’73 when Goldman produced his abridged version. That being said, given my love of the film version, I worried that the book wouldn’t live up to my expectations. It surprised me though, to learn that neither of my would-be travel mates had read it either; Morgenstern Virgins, one and all.} Exhausted, we arrived around noon, two weeks later, in Florin City. Although we had been in Europe for four days already (We had landed at Luxemburg Fidel Airport, after a three hour layover in Paris), we were still jet lagged – As busy as we’d been, we just hadn’t been able to give our bodies the chance to catch up. We had come in through, by chartered bus, what would have been Guilder (but was now the mostly unacknowledged no-man’s land that bordered Germany, France, and Luxemburg), beginning at Fezzik’s Cave, stopping briefly at what was left of The Fire Swamp, but was now nothing but a tacky tourist trap (At the diner we ate at, we were greeted at the door by a scruffy, barely pubescent boy, dressed “Inconceivably” in a rubber rat suit. Undeniable, he was the least frightening R.O.U.S. imaginable). The food was good, but the ambiance left much to be desired. After visiting the souvenir shop, we considered, though not seriously, staying at a Bed and Breakfast there called, “The Buttercup”, but chose instead to press on, as planned, to The Cliffs of Insanity, which were even more sharp and imposing than I had anticipated, not realizing that the film had substituted The Cliffs of Moher; probably to save money. “There is a shortage of perfect breasts in this world,” Gerhard laughed, and playfully jabbed my, more-prominent-than-I would-like, man-boobs, as we made our way back to the bus that evening. “It would be a pity to damage yours.” “Eff off,” I replied, only mildly put out; half-laughing. I knew that I had put on a bit too much weight recently but, as of yet, I wasn’t too concerned. It had been a long day though, and, as acrophobic as I am, I was not looking forward to the next day’s adventures. The writer laughed then, as though reading my thoughts. “Both of you!” I added, repeating, “Eff off!” (This time with an Exclamation Point!) - glaring, meaningfully in his direction. We stayed the night in Guilder (or Luxemburg, if you prefer), at a hostel down the road. We had a beautiful view of the plains that lead off towards the town that still bore the name, Guilder, from our bedroom window. The ruins of the original castle were illuminated by the crescent moon that hung awkwardly in the sky. We paid our dues – “Good night. Sleep well. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.” And also: “Rest well, and dream of large women (both sayings of which I later discovered, much to my disappointment, either did not exist in the book, or were severely altered for the movie)” - and turned in. We had already prepaid and booked transportation for the next day. We were to be lowered by gondola, down down down, to be delivered to the pirate themed ship (The Revenge Cruise) that would take us to our final destination. That first day in Florin City, we visited Morgenstern’s Ancestral Home, The Thieves Quarters, the castle proper, and the re-creation of Miracle Max’s Hut (which had burnt down in 1889, only to be rebuilt 100 years later at the request of Andre the Giant, who financed the whole operation). For day two, we were saving The Morgenstern Museum and The Zoo of Death (or the Pit of Despair, as it was renamed in the movie, neatly eviscerating the first four levels of the zoo, leaving Prince Humperdinck as a shadow of the man he was in life). It was a good day for touring; both days. The weather was nice; cool, but not damp, as is often the case, unless it is raining or too hot – so we were lucky, I suppose. We were in good spirits, all of us, and, whenever Gerhard or I suggested we do something, the writer simply replied, “As you wish.” Only he said it more like, “Aaaaaasss… Yoooooouuuuuu… Wiiiiiiiiiiiiiish…” We were having a marvelous time. On our last day in Florin City, we visited Buttercup’s Farm, which had been preserved as a ‘Site of Interest’ by the Germans (who, luckily for us, seem to preserve everything), and a fee was charged. We all agreed that the price was rather steep, but we had come this far and every guest received a free (Special Edition!) copy of Goldman’s abridged version of The Princess Bride, which was bound in leather and embossed with the Florenese flag, with the words “HAVE FUN STORMING THE CASTLE!” printed beneath it in gold lettering. {I remember how, as the bus drove us out of the city, I committed the landscape to memory; the rolling hills, the ancient trees, the quaint homes and their even quainter occupants, with all of their rural European quirks; everything. I made a few notes in a pad of paper that I kept with me, knowing, if not consciously, that I would eventually write it all down, if only to share the journey with a loved one, perhaps in the form of a letter or an e-mail (this was after e-mail, but before phones were also computers), never imagining how long it would actually take me to ‘put pen to paper’. {Seven years later, I find myself drawing on those memories (and notes!), as if they happened only yesterday. I am reading The Princess Bride, again, for what must be the sixth or seventh time; halfway through – I will probably finish the last 200 pages this evening. It was my Mother who encouraged me to share my adventures, if not directly. She mentioned my writing, as of late, and how it came across as overly dark – and she was worried about me. Of course, I admitted, I am in a very dark place; I still do not have a full-time job, and life is expensive - Still, even if I weren’t ‘in a very dark place’, what else could one expect from a Blog titled ‘Very Unhealthy’ (VeryUnhealthy.weebly.com)? It is intended to be a schizophrenic social commentary, which it is, and I told her so.} {My Mother though, didn’t see my point. And so it was for her that I went back in time, beginning at The Cliffs of Insanity, which happened to be the highlight of our trip; for me, at least. Even though I was afraid, I looked down! And so it is that I am postponing June’s originally intended post: A Brief Look at Suicide and Euthanasia, in favor of something lighter. And so this piece of writing is for her. She is not a witch, she is my Mother. And I do so hope that she likes it. There is nothing that I have written that has given me as much pleasure.} I read my Special Edition of The Princess Bride, for the first time, on the flight back home, while the writer and Gerhard chatted, drank wine, watched movies, and finally slept. In some ways, the book was disappointing, as I knew in advance: The Man in Black was Westley all along! So the mystery was gone and the surprises were spoilt. And of course, in my imagination the Channel of Guilder would always be infested with shrieking eels, regardless of Morgenstern’s (and reality’s) sharks. And yet, I read it, with great joy, compulsively; unable to put it down. In the end, the book was completed before we were even two thirds of the way across the ocean. It left me wanting more (Here’s to hoping that Goldman finishes his abridgment of the sequel, Buttercup’s Baby, sometime this century!) and so I flipped it over and began again, from the beginning. It is just thank kind of book!

I already had a hardcover of this before, but seeing this in deluxe oversized Version with beautiful illustrations… I couldn’t help myself. Quality of the pages are thick and nice, cover has a lot of character. Very happy with this. Get this!!