Ferreiro de Bosque Grande - J.R.R. Tolkien

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blacksmith
Big Woods
EXPANDED EDITION
JRR Tolkien
Edited by Verlyn Flieger
Translation
RONALD EDUARD KYRMSE
Member of the Tolkien Society and the “Quendily” language group
SÃO PAULO 2015

Index
Preface
Blacksmith of Bosque Grande
Afterword
“Genesis of History” – Note from Tolkien to Clyde Kilby
Draft presentation of Tolkien for The Golden Key
Temporal scheme and characters of “The Big Cake”
Suggestions for the end of the story
Draft and hybrid transcription of “The Big Cake”
Drafts and transcriptions of “Lake of Tears”
Grades
Preface
“DON’T READ THIS! Not yet."
It was with this unequivocal admonition that JRR Tolkien began his presentation, never
completed, for an edition of George MacDonald's The Golden Key . The highlighted phrase,
at the top of the page, was aimed at a child reader, as the rest of the presentation, which is
quite playful, makes clear (the transcription of which is included in this volume). Still, whether
addressing the child reader or the adult reader, Tolkien said what he intended to say.
He was firmly convinced that editorial presentations were an unnecessary intrusion, as

they inevitably came between the story and the reader and influenced one's first impression
of it. In Tolkien's vision, the reader and the story should, above all, meet face to face, without
intermediaries. No one should interpret or tell the reader what the story was about or what to
think of it. The correct “introduction,” wrote Tolkien, should be simply: “Reader, I present to
you The Golden Key.” His conviction in this regard was so strong that he abandoned writing
the presentation of MacDonald's story and began writing a story of his own, the book he now
has in his hands, Blacksmith of Bosque Grande.
There is a lot to say about Ferreiro de Bosque Grande, even by the author himself, but this
can be postponed in favor of the story. Following Tolkien's instruction, the introduction to this
edition appears after the story, as part of the final materials. Do not read it until you have read
and enjoyed the story. Instead:
Reader, I present to you the Blacksmith of Bosque Grande.
VERLYN FLIEGER
blacksmith
Big Woods
There was once a village, not long ago for those with a long memory, nor very
far for those with long legs. Bosque Grande it was called, because it was bigger
than Bosque Pequeno, a few miles away, deep in the trees. However, it wasn't
very big, despite being prosperous at the time, and a reasonable number of
people lived there, good, bad and mixed, as is normal.
It was a remarkable village in its own way, well known in the surrounding
region for the skill of its artisans in various trades, but, more than anything, for
its cuisine. It had a large kitchen, which belonged to the Village Council, and
the Master Chef was an important person. Casa do Cuca and the Kitchen were
next to the Great Hall, the largest and oldest building in the place, as well as
being the most beautiful. It was built of good stone and good oak, and was well
cared for, although it was no longer painted or gilded as it once was. In the Hall,
the villagers held their meetings and their debates, and their public banquets,
and their family gatherings. Therefore, Cuca kept himself busy, since for all
these occasions he had to provide adequate food. For festivals, of which there
were many throughout the year, the food that was considered appropriate was
abundant and tasty. There was a festival that everyone looked forward to, as it
was the only one celebrated in winter. It lasted a week, and on the last day, at
sunset, a festival called the Banquet of Good Children took place, at which
there were not many guests. Undoubtedly, some who deserved the invitation
were forgotten, and some who did not deserve it were invited by mistake, for
that is the way it is, no matter how cautious those who organize such events
may try to be. Be that as it may, it was mainly the day of birth that qualified a
child to participate in the Banquet of the Twenty-Four, since it was only
celebrated every twenty-four years, and only twenty-four children were invited.
On this occasion, the Master Cook was expected to do his best, and, in addition
to many other good things, he used to bake the Big Cake.
It was above all for his excellence (or not) that his name was remembered, as
a Master Cook very rarely lasted long enough in office to make a second
Grande Bolo.
There came a time, however, when the reigning Master Chef — to everyone's surprise, as this
had never happened before — suddenly announced that he needed a vacation; and he went
away, no one knew where; and when he returned a few months later, he seemed somewhat
changed.
Before, he was a kind man, who liked to see other people have fun, although he himself was
serious and said very little. Now he was more jovial and often said and did very funny things;
and, at banquets, he sang happy songs, which was not expected from Mestres-Cucas.
He also brought an Apprentice with him, and this amazed the village.
It was no surprise that a Master Cook had an apprentice. It was normal. The Master chose
one in due time and taught him everything he could. And as they both grew older, the apprentice
took on most of the important work, so that when the Master retired or died, there he was, ready
to take over and become Master Cook. However, this Master had never chosen an apprentice.
He had always said “There's still a lot of time” or “I'm keeping my eyes open and I'll choose one
when I find one that suits me”.
Now, however, he had a simple boy with him, and not from the village. He was more agile than
the boys from Bosque, and faster, soft-spoken and very polite, but too young for the job,
practically a teenager, it seemed.
Still, choosing an apprentice was the Master Cook's business, and no one had the right to
interfere. Therefore, the boy stayed and was hosted at Casa do Cuca until he was old enough
to find his own accommodation. Soon people got used to seeing him there, and he made some
friends. Estes and Cuca called him Alf, but to the others he was just Novato.
The next surprise came just three years later. One spring morning, the Master Cook took off
his tall white hat, folded his clean aprons, hung up his white dolman, took a solid ash staff and
a small bag and left.
Before that, he said goodbye to the apprentice. There was no one else around.
“Goodbye for now, Alf,” he said. — I leave it to you to manage things the best way you can,
which is always very good. I hope everything works out. If we meet again, I hope you'll tell me
everything that happened.
Tell them I went on vacation again, but this time I'm not going back.
There was great commotion in the village when Novato gave this message to the people
who went to the Kitchen.
— What a thing to do! — they said. — And without warning or goodbye! What
shall we do without Mestre-Cuca? He left no one to take his place.
In all their conversations, no one ever thought of making the young Novato a Cuca.
He had grown a little in stature, but still looked like a boy, and he had only worked for
three years.
Finally, for lack of a better person, they appointed a man from the village who knew
how to cook trivial dishes quite well. As a young man, he had helped the Master when
there was a lot of work, but the Master had never grown fond of him and did not want
him as an apprentice. He was now a serious man, with a wife and children, and cautious
with money.
— At least he won't leave without warning — they said — and bad food is better than
nothing. The next Big Cake is seven years away, and by that time he should be able to
do it.
Noques, that was his name, was very happy with the way things turned out. He had
always wanted to become a Master Cook and had never doubted that he would achieve
it. For a while, when he was alone in the Kitchen, he used to wear his tall white hat,
look at a polished frying pan and say:
— How are you, Master? That hat suits you very well, it could have been made for
you. I hope everything goes well for you.
Everything went very well, because at the beginning Noques did his best and had
Novato to help him. In fact, he learned a lot from him, observing him furtively, but
without ever admitting it. However, in due time, the time for the Banquet of the Twenty-
Four approached, and Noques needed to think about how to make the Great Cake.
Secretly, he was worried, because although he could, with seven years of practice,
produce reasonable cakes and other sweets for ordinary occasions, he knew that his
Big Cake would be eagerly awaited and would have to please harsh critics, not just
children. A smaller cake, with the same ingredients and preparation, should be offered
to those who helped with the banquet. It was also expected that the Big Cake would
have something unusual and surprising and would not be a mere repetition of the
previous one.
In his opinion, the main thing was that the cake needed to be very sweet and tasty,
and he decided that it would be covered entirely in sugar icing (which Novato was
skilled at). “This will make him beautiful, like a fairy”, he thought. Fairies and sweets were
two of the very few notions he had about children's tastes. Fairies, he thought, were
forgotten with age, but he still enjoyed sweets.
— Oh! Fairy thing! — he exclaimed. — That gives me an idea.
And so he got it into his head that he would stick a little doll on a pinnacle in the
middle of the Cake, dressed all in white, holding a magic wand ending in a tinsel star,
and would write Fairy Queen in pink icing at her feet .
However, when he started to separate the ingredients to prepare the cake, he

discovered that he only had vague memories of what should go inside a Big Cake. So
he consulted some old recipe books left by previous chefs. They perplexed him, even
when he could decipher the handwriting, because they mentioned many things he had
never heard of and some he had forgotten and now had no time to get, but he thought
he would try one or two of the spices the books talked about. He scratched his head
and remembered an old black box, with several different compartments, in which the
last Cuca kept spices and other things for special cakes. He hadn't seen it since he took
office, but after a search he found it on a high shelf in the warehouse.
He took it out and blew the dust off the lid, but when he opened the box, he discovered
that very little of the spices remained, and that they were dry and moldy. However, in a
compartment in the corner, he discovered a small star, almost the size of a sixpence [*],
with a blackish appearance, as if it were made of silver, only oxidized.
- It's funny! — he said, holding it up to the light.
- No, it is not! — exclaimed a voice behind him, so suddenly that he jumped. It was
Novice's voice, and he had never spoken to the Master in that tone. In fact, he rarely
spoke to Noques unless he spoke to him first.
Very right and appropriate for a young man. He could be skilled with icing, but he still
had a lot to learn: that was Noques' opinion.
—What do you mean, little boy? — he asked, not very happy. — If it isn't
funny, what is it?
— It's fadic — explained Novato. — It comes from Fairyland.

Cuca then laughed.
“Okay, okay,” he said. —That means almost the same thing. But call her that if
you want. One day you will grow up. Now you can continue pitting the raisins. If you
notice anything funny, let me know.
— What are you going to do with the star, Master? — Newbie wanted to know.
— Put it on the cake, of course — replied Cuca. — She's perfect for that, especially
if she's fadic. — He chuckled. — I imagine that you yourself have been to children's
parties, not even that long ago, where little things like that were added to the mix, as
well as coins and things like that. Anyway, that's what we do in this village: it
entertains the children.
—But that's not small stuff, Master, it's a fairy star, insisted Novice.
— You already said that — Cuca replied harshly.
—Very well, I'll tell the children. It will make them laugh.
— I don't think you will, Master. But it's the right thing to do, very right —
Novato opined.
— Who do you think you're talking to? — said Noques.
Finally the Cake was made, baked and decorated, mainly by Novato.
— Since you're so obsessed with fairies, I'll let you play the Fairy Queen —
said Noques.
— Very well, Master. I'll do that if you're really busy. But was
your idea, not mine,” he replied.
— It's my job to have ideas, not yours — Noques concluded.
At the Banquet, the Cake was placed in the middle of the long table, inside a ring of
twenty-four red candles. Its top rose into a small white mountain, on whose flanks
grew little trees shining as with frost; At the peak, a tiny white figure, standing on one
foot like a dancing Snow Maiden, held in her hand a tiny wand of ice, sparkling with
light.
The children looked at her with wide eyes, and one or two of them clapped their
hands, exclaiming:
— Isn't it beautiful, fairy thing?!

This delighted Cuca, but the apprentice seemed annoyed. Both were present:
the Master to share the Cake when the time came, and the apprentice to sharpen
the knife and hand it to him.
Finally Cuca took the knife, took a step towards the table and said:
— I need to tell you, dear ones, that beneath that beautiful frosting there is a
cake made of many things that are good to eat. But there are also, well mixed in
there, various pretty things, odds and ends and coins and so on, and they say it's
good luck to find one in your slice. There are twenty-four in the Cake, so there
should be one for each of you, if the Fairy Queen plays fair. But she doesn't always
do that: she's a naughty little creature. Ask Mr. Newbie.
The apprentice turned his back and focused on the children's faces.
- No! I almost forgot — Cuca continued. — Twenty-five tonight. There is also a

little silver star, special and magical, that's what Mr.
Noob. So be careful! If they break one of her beautiful front teeth with her, the
magic star won't fix it. But I think finding her means special luck.
The cake was good, and no one found any fault with it except that it was no
bigger than necessary. When it was all divided, there was
a large slice for each child, but no leftovers: no one could repeat it.
The slices soon disappeared, and from time to time an offal or a coin was
discovered. Some found one, others found two, and many found nothing,
because that's how luck works, whether there is a doll with a magic wand on
the cake or not. But after the Cake was eaten whole, there was no sign of any
magic stars.
— Well, look! — said Cuca. — Then it shouldn't be made of silver, after all, it
must have melted. Or maybe Mr. Newbie was right, and she really was magical
and just disappeared and returned to Fairyland. It's not a nice trick to play, I
don't think so. — He looked at Novice with a small smile, and the apprentice
looked at him with a dark look and didn't show a smile.
Even so, the silver star was indeed a fairy star: the apprentice was not one to
be fooled by things like that. What happened was that one of the boys at the
Banquet swallowed it without realizing it, despite finding a silver coin in his slice
of cake and giving it to Nell, the little girl next to him: she seemed very
disappointed at not finding it. no luck in your slice. Sometimes he wondered
what had really happened to the star, not knowing that it had stayed with him,
hidden somewhere where he couldn't feel it; because that's how it should be.
She waited there for a long time, until her day came.
The Banquet had been in the middle of winter, but now it was June, and at night
it was barely dark. The boy got up before dawn, as he didn't want to sleep: it
was his tenth birthday. He looked out the window, and the world seemed quiet
and hopeful. A light, cool, fragrant breeze stirred the awakening trees. Then
dawn came, and far away he heard the dawn song of the birds beginning,
which grew louder as he approached, until it rushed over him, filling all the land
around the house, and proceeded westward. like a wave of music, as the sun
rose over the edge of the world.
— This reminds me of Fairyland — he thought — but in Fairyland people

also sing. — Then he began to sing, loudly and clearly, using strange words
that he seemed to know by heart; and at that moment the star fell from his
mouth, and he caught it in his open hand. Now it was bright silver, sparkling in
the sunlight, but it throbbed and rose a little, as if it were about to fall.
fly away. Without thinking, he hit his head with his hand, and the star remained there in the
middle of his forehead for many years.
Few people in the village noticed the star, although it was not invisible to attentive eyes.
However, it became part of his face and normally didn't shine at all. Some of its light
passed into his eyes; and his voice, which had begun to become beautiful as soon as the
star came to him, became still more beautiful as he grew older. They liked to hear him
speak, even if it was just a “good morning”.
He became well known in the region, not only in his village, but in many others nearby,
for his great skill. His father was a blacksmith, and he followed his trade and perfected it.
He was called Blacksmith's Son while his father was still alive and then just Blacksmith.
Because at that time he was the best blacksmith between Far East Village and Western
Forest, capable of making all kinds of iron objects in his forge. Most of them, of course,
were simple and useful, intended for everyday needs: agricultural implements, carpenter's
implements, kitchen implements, pots and pans, bars and bolts and hinges, pot hooks,
firewood racks and horseshoes, things like that. They were strong and durable, but they
also exhibited a certain grace, as they were beautiful, good to handle and look at.
However, when he had time, he made some objects for pleasure. And they were
beautiful, for he knew how to work iron into wonderful shapes, which seemed as light and
delicate as a bouquet of leaves and flowers, but retained the iron's inflexible resistance or
seemed even stronger. Few people passed through one of the gates or railings he made
without stopping to admire it. No one could cross it once it was closed. Ferreiro sang
when he was making objects of this type, and when he started to sing, those around him
stopped work and went to the forge to listen.
That was all most people knew about him. In fact, it was enough, and more
than was available to most men and women in the village, even those who
were skilled and hardworking. However, there was more to know. For Blacksmith
became acquainted with Fairyland, and knew some of its regions as well as a
mortal can. However, since many people had become like Noques, he spoke
about this with few people, only his wife and children. His wife was Nell, to
whom he had given the silver coin, and his daughter was Nan, and his son was
Ned Son of the Blacksmith. In any case, I couldn't have hidden it from them,
because sometimes they saw the star shining on his forehead, when he
returned from one of the long walks he took alone, sometimes in the evening,
or when he returned from a trip.
From time to time he would depart, sometimes on foot, sometimes on
horseback, and it was generally supposed to be on business; and sometimes it
was, other times it wasn't. Be that as it may, it was not to receive work orders
or to buy pig iron and coal and other supplies, although he handled these things
carefully and knew how to earn some honest money. Yet he had his own affairs
in Fairyland, and he was welcome there, for the star shone brightly on his brow,
and he was as safe as a mortal in that dangerous country could feel. The
Lesser Evils avoided the star, and from the Greater Evils he was protected.
For this he was grateful, for he soon became wise and understood that the
wonders of Fairyland cannot be reached without risk and that many Evils
cannot be challenged without weapons whose power is too great for a mortal
to wield. He continued to be a student and explorer, not a warrior. And although
in time he learned to forge weapons that in his world would be powerful enough
to make great tales and be worth a king's ransom, he knew that in Fairyland
they would be of little importance. Therefore, among all the objects he made,
he does not remember ever having forged a sword, a spear or an arrowhead.
In Fairyland, at first, he generally walked in silence among the smaller people

and the tamer creatures, in the woods and meadows of beautiful valleys, and
by the clear waters, where at night strange stars shone and at dawn the shining
stars were mirrored. distant mountain peaks. On some of his briefer visits, he
spent contemplating just one tree or one flower; but later, on longer journeys,
he saw beautiful things and terrible things,
which he could neither remember clearly nor relate to his friends, despite
knowing that they resided deep in his heart. However, some things he did not
forget, and they remained in his mind as wonders and mysteries that he often
recalled.
When he began to walk far without a guide, he thought he would discover the
far reaches of the earth, but great mountains rose before him, and, surrounding
them by long paths, he finally arrived at a desolate coast. He stood by the Sea
of the Windless Storm, where the blue waves, like snow-capped hills, roll silently
from the No Light to the long beach, bringing the white ships returning from
battles in the Dark Confins, upon which the men know nothing. He saw a large
vessel being thrown over the land and the waters flowing back in foam without
making any noise. The elven sailors were tall and fearsome. Their swords
gleamed and their spears gleamed, and there was a piercing light in their eyes.
Suddenly they raised their voices in a song of triumph, whereupon his heart
trembled with fear, and he fell prostrate to the ground. The sailors passed over
it and set off towards the resounding hills.
After that, he no longer went to that beach, believing that he was in an island
region besieged by the sea, and turned his mind to the mountains, wanting to
reach the heart of the kingdom. Once, in these wanderings, he was surprised
by a gray fog, and for a long time he wandered aimlessly, until the fog rolled
away and he discovered that he was on a wide plain. Far in the distance there was a
great hill of shadow, and from that shadow, which was its root, he saw the King's
Tree rise, tower upon tower, to heaven. Its light was like the noonday sun, and it
produced at once countless leaves, flowers, and fruits, none of which were like
any that grew on the Tree.
He never saw that Tree again, despite searching for it many times. On one of his
journeys, climbing the Outer Mountains, he came to a deep valley in the middle
of them. In the lowest part there was a lake, calm and serene, although a breeze
stirred the woods that surrounded it. In this valley, the light was like a red sunset,
but the light was born from the lake. From a small cliff jutting above the water,
he looked down, and it seemed as if he could see to an immeasurable depth.
There he beheld strange forms of flame, bending, forking, and wavering like
great seaweeds in a sea abyss, and creatures of fire coming and going among
them. Taken aback, he went down to the water's edge and tried it with his foot,
but it wasn't water: it was harder than stone and more slippery than glass. He
stepped on it and fell heavily, and a resounding crash ran across the lake and
echoed from its shores.
Presently the breeze rose and became a Wild Wind, roaring like a great beast,
and swept him and hurled him onto the bank, and drove him up the slope,
making him whirl and fall like a dead leaf. With his arms he wrapped his arms
around the trunk of a young birch and clung to it, and the Wind fought fiercely
with them, trying to tear him away. The birch, however, bent to the ground from
the blast and enveloped him in its branches. When at last the Wind passed, he
stood up and saw that the birch was bare. It had been stripped of all its leaves
and was crying, tears falling from its branches like rain. He put his hand on the
white shell saying:
— Blessed be the birch! What can I do to compensate or be grateful?

He felt the tree's response climbing up his hand:
- Anything. Go away! The Wind is behind you. You don't belong here. Go
away and never come back!
As he climbed out of that valley, he felt the birch's tears running down his face,
and they were bitter on his lips. His heart was saddened when he took the long
road, and for some time he did not enter Fairyland again. However, he could
not abandon it, and when he returned, his desire to immerse himself in the land
was even stronger.
He finally found a road through the Outer Mountains and continued on until he reached
the Inner Mountains. They were tall, steep and scary.
However, he finally came across a passage that he managed to climb. One day, very
boldly, he crossed a narrow crevice and looked down, although he did not know it, on the
Valley of Ever Morning, where the green surpasses the green of the meadows of the
Outer Fairyland as much as they surpass ours in spring. There the air is so clear that the
eyes can make out the red tongues of birds singing in the trees on the opposite side of
the valley, despite it being very wide and the birds no bigger than wrens.
On the inner edge, the mountains fell in great slopes filled with the sound of gurgling
waterfalls, and he ran forward, full of joy. As he set foot on the grass of the Valley, he
heard elven voices singing, and on a lawn next to a river shining with lilies he came
across many maidens dancing. The speed, grace, and ever-changing manner of her
movements enchanted him, and he stepped forward toward the wheel. They then
suddenly became still, and a young maiden with flowing hair and a pleated skirt came to
meet them.
He addressed him laughing:
—You're getting cheeky, Starry Front, aren't you? Aren't you afraid of what the Queen
might say if she knew this? Unless you have her permission.
He was embarrassed, because he realized his own thought and knew that she had
read it: that the star on his forehead was a passport to go wherever he wanted and now
he knew that it wasn't. However, she smiled as she spoke again:
- Come! Now that you are here, you will dance with me and she took him by the hand
and led him to the circle.
There they danced together, and for a while he knew what it was like to have the agility,
the power and the joy to accompany her. For a while. For soon, it seemed to her, they
stopped again, and she bent down and picked up a white flower from before her feet and
put it in his hair, saying:
— Now, goodbye! Who knows, perhaps we will meet again, with the Queen's permission.
He remembered nothing about the journey back from that meeting until he saw
himself riding along the roads of his country. And in some villages people stared at
him in amazement and watched him until he was out of sight. When he arrived at
his house, his daughter came running and greeted him happily: he had returned
earlier than expected, but not too early for those who were waiting for him.
- Daddy! —she exclaimed. - Where were you? Your star is shining brightly!
As he crossed the threshold, the star dimmed again, but Nell took it for granted.
hand and took him to the fireplace, and there he turned and looked at him.
— Dear Husband, where have you been and what have you seen? - He asked. —
There is a flower in your hair. — She carefully took it off his head and placed it in his hand.
It looked like something seen from a great distance, even though it was there. A light
came from the flower that produced shadows on the walls of the room, which were now
darkening with the sunset. The shadow of the man before the flower grew larger, and his
great head bowed over it.
— You look like a giant, Daddy — said the son, who until then had remained silent.
The flower did not wither or dim, and they kept it as a secret and a treasure. The
blacksmith made her a small jewelry box with a key, and there she stayed and was
passed down to many generations of her family. And those who inherited the key would
sometimes open the jewelry box and admire the Living Flower for a long time, until the
box closed again: the time at which it closed was not theirs to choose.
The years did not stop in the village. Many had already passed. At the Children's Banquet
where the blacksmith received the star, he had not yet turned ten. Then came another
Banquet of the Twenty-Four, and by then Alf had become Master Chef and chosen a new
apprentice, Harper. Twelve years later, the blacksmith returned with the Living Flower.
And now another Banquet of the Twenty-Four Children was about to take place next
winter. One day that year, Blacksmith was walking in the woods of Outer Fairyland. It was
autumn, there were golden leaves on the branches and red leaves on the ground.
Footsteps came
from behind, but he didn't pay attention to them or turn around, as he was deep in thought.
On that visit he had received a summons and had gone on a long trip. It
seemed longer than any other he had ever undertaken. He had been guided
and protected, but he had little memory of the paths he had taken, for he had
often been blinded by mist or shadow, until he finally reached a high place
beneath a night sky of countless stars. There he was led before the Queen
herself. She did not wear a crown nor did she have a throne. He was standing
there in his majesty and glory, and all around him was a great army, shimmering
and shining like the stars. But she was taller than the tips of their great spears,
and over her head burned a white flame. He signaled to him that if
approached, and shuddering he stepped forward. A loud, clear trumpet sounded, and,
lo and behold, they were alone.
He stood before her but did not kneel in reverence, as he was distressed and felt
that for someone so humble all gestures would be in vain. Finally he looked up and
looked at her face, and her eyes looked gravely at him.
He was disturbed and amazed, because at that moment he recognized her: the
beautiful maiden of the Green Valley, the dancer before whose feet the flowers
bloomed. She smiled when she realized he remembered and approached. They had
a long conversation, most of the time without words, and he learned many things from
her thoughts, some of which gave him joy and others filled him with grief.
Then his mind went back in time, remembering his life, until he reached the day of the
Children's Banquet and the arrival of the star, and suddenly he saw the little dancing
figure with his magic wand. Embarrassed, he lowered his eyes before the Queen's
beauty. She, however, laughed again, as she had laughed in the Valley of Always
Morning.
"Do not grieve for me, Starry Front," he said. — Don't even be too ashamed of your
people. Better a little doll, perhaps, than no souvenir from Fairyland. For some, the
only glimpse. For others, awakening. Since that day you have longed in your heart to
see me, and I granted your wish. But I can't give you anything more. Now, in farewell,
I will make you my messenger. If you meet the King, tell him: “The time has come. Let
him choose.”
“But, Lady of Fairyland,” he stammered. –, Where is the King then? —

Because he had asked the people of Fairyland that question many times, and they
had all said the same thing: “He didn’t tell us.”
And the Queen replied:
“If he didn't tell you, Starry Front, I can't tell you. But he travels a lot and can be
found in unlikely places. Now kneel in reverence. He then knelt down, and she bent
down and put her hand on his head, and a great silence came over him. It seemed to
him that he was at once in the World and in Fairyland, and also outside of them and
examining them, so that he was at once in a state of deprivation and control, and at
peace. When, after a short time, the silence passed, he raised his head and stood up.
Dawn took over the sky, and the stars were pale. The Queen was gone. Far in the
distance he heard the echo of a trumpet in the mountains. The high field where he
stood was silent and empty, and he knew that his path now led back to deprivation.
That meeting place was long behind him, and there he was, walking among the fallen
leaves, reflecting on everything he had seen and learned. The footsteps got closer.
Then, suddenly, a voice beside him said:
—Are you going my way, Starry Front?
With a start, he abandoned his thoughts and saw a man at his side. He was tall and
walked softly and lightly. He was dressed entirely in dark green and wore a hood that
partially obscured his face. The blacksmith was intrigued, as only the people of
Fairyland called him “Starry Front”, but he could not remember ever seeing that man
there; and yet I felt, uneasily, that I should know him.
— Which way are you going, then? - He asked.
— I'm going back to your village now — replied the man — and I hope
May you be too.
— Indeed, I am — confirmed the blacksmith. — Let's walk together. But now

something came to mind. Before I began my journey home, a Great Lady left me a
message, but soon we will be leaving Fairyland, and I don't think I will ever return. Will
you come back?
— Yes, I'll be back. You can give the message to me.
—But the message is for the King. Do you know where to find him?
- Know. What is the message?
— The Lady only asked me to tell you: “The time has come. Let him choose.”
- I understand. Don't worry anymore.
Then they walked side by side along the path, in silence, broken only by the rustling of
leaves at their feet. However, after a few miles, while they were still on the edge of
Fairyland, the man stopped. He turned to the blacksmith and threw back his hood.
Then the blacksmith recognized him. It was Alf the Novice, as the blacksmith still called
him, always remembering the day when, still young, Alf had stood in the Hall, holding
the shining knife for cutting the Cake, and his eyes had shone in the light of the night.
candles. He must be an old man now, as he had been Master Chef for many years. But
there, standing under the threshold of the Outer Woods, he looked like the apprentice
he had long ago, but more
masterful: there was no gray in his hair or wrinkles on his face, and his eyes shone
as if reflecting light.
— I would like to speak to you, Ferreiro Filho do Ferreiro [*], before we return to
your land,” he said.
The blacksmith was astonished at this, as he himself had often wanted to speak to
Alf, but had never been able to. Alf had always greeted him affably and looked at him
kindly, but he seemed to avoid talking to him alone. Now he looked at the blacksmith
with sympathy, but he raised his hand and with his index finger touched the star on
his forehead. The flash in his eyes went out, and then the blacksmith knew that he
had come from the star and that it had been shining brightly, but now its brightness
had dimmed. He was surprised and walked away angrily.
— Don't you think, Master Blacksmith, that it's time to abandon this object? —
asked Alf.
—What does that matter to you, Mestre-Cuca? - he responded. - And why would i
do that? Isn't she mine? It came to me, and can't we keep things that come to us like
this, at least as a souvenir?
- Some things. Those that are free gifts and given as souvenirs.
Others, however, are not given like this. They cannot belong to a man forever, nor be
treasured as an inheritance. They are borrowed. You didn't think, perhaps, that
someone else might need this object. But that's how it is. Time is pressing.
Then the blacksmith became worried, for he was a generous man and remembered with
gratitude everything that the star had brought him.
—So what should I do? Shall I give it to one of the Great Ones of Fairyland?
Should I give it to the King? — And, as he said this, the hope arose in his heart that on such
a mission he could enter Fairyland once again.
“You could give it to me,” Alf suggested, “but you might think that's too difficult. Will you
come with me to my storage room and return it to the box your grandfather put it in?
— I didn't know that — said the blacksmith.
—No one knew except me. I was the only one with him.
—Then I suppose you know how he got the star and why he put it in the box.
— He brought her from Fairyland, you already know that — said Alf. — He left it behind
in the hope that it could reach you, his only grandson. That's what he told me, because he
thought I could fix it. He was her mother's father.
I don't know if she told him anything about him, if she even knew anything to tell him. Ginete
was his name, and he was a great traveler. He had seen many things and was capable of
doing many things before he settled down and became Master-
Cuca. But he left when you were only two years old, and they couldn't find
anyone better to replace him than Noques, poor thing. Still, as we expected, I
became a Master in time. This year I will make another Big Cake: the only Cuca
in memory who made the second one. I want to put the star inside him.
— Very well, you will have it — decided the blacksmith. He looked at Alf as if
try to read your mind. — Do you know who will find her?
— What does that matter to you, Master Blacksmith?
— I would like to know if you know, Mestre-Cuca. It could make it easier for
me to part with an object that is so dear to me. My daughter's son is too young.
— Could and couldn't. We’ll have to see,” said Alf.
They said nothing more, and continued on their way until they left Fairyland and
finally returned to the village. They then walked to the Hall. The sun was already
setting in the world, and there was a red light in the windows. The golden
carvings of the great door glowed, and strange faces of many colors looked
down from the gutters beneath the roof. It had not been long since the Hall had
been reglazed and repainted, and there had been much debate in the Council
on this subject. Some did not appreciate it and called it “modern”, while others,
with more knowledge, knew that it was a return to the old custom. Still, since it
hadn't cost anyone a penny and the Chef himself must have paid for it, they
allowed him to do as he thought best. But the blacksmith had not seen him in
such a light before, and he stopped and looked around the Hall in amazement,
forgetting his mission.
He felt a touch on his arm, and Alf led him to a small door at the back. He
opened it and led the blacksmith along a dark corridor, into the warehouse.
There he lit a long candle and, after unlocking a cupboard, he took the black
box down from the shelf. Now it was polished and decorated with silver scrolls.
He lifted the lid and showed it to the blacksmith. A small compartment was
empty; the rest were full of spices, fresh and spicy, and the blacksmith's eyes
began to water. He put his hand on his forehead, and the star left promptly, but
he felt a sudden stab of pain, and tears ran down his face. Although the star
shines brightly again, lying in its
hand, he could see her only as a blurred flash of light that seemed very far away.
“I can't see clearly,” he said. — You need to save it for me. — He held out his hand, and
Alf took the star and placed it in its place, and it
turned off.
The blacksmith turned without saying anything else and felt his way to the door. On
the threshold he discovered that his vision had cleared again. It was late afternoon, and
the Evening Star shone in a luminous sky, next to the Moon. Standing for a moment
admiring its beauty, he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around.
— You gave me the star of your own free will — said Alf. — If you still want to know which
child it goes to, I'll tell you.
- Yes I want.
— Go to whichever one you indicate.
The blacksmith was surprised and did not respond immediately.
— Well — he began, hesitantly — I wonder what you think of my choice. I think you have
little reason to like the name Noques, but, well, his grandson, Tim from Noques de Beiravila,
comes to the Banquete. Noques de Beiravila is very different.
“I noticed that,” declared Alf. — He had a wise mother.
— Yes, my Nell's sister. But, kinship aside, I love little Tim. Even though it's not an obvious
choice.
Alf smiled.
— Neither were you. However, I agree. In fact, I had already chosen Tim.
—Then why did you ask me to choose?
— The Queen wanted me to do so. If you had chosen someone else, I would have
given in.
The blacksmith looked at Alf for a long time. Then suddenly he leaned over
deep.
— I finally understand, sir. He gave us an immense honor.
“I've been rewarded,” said Alf. —Now go home in peace!

When the blacksmith arrived home, on the western outskirts of the village, he
found his son at the forge door. He had just locked it, as the day's work was done,
and now he was standing guard over the white road where his father used to
return from his trips. Hearing footsteps, he turned around in surprise and, seeing
him coming from the village, ran forward to meet him. She wrapped her arms
around him, welcoming him with affection.
“I've been waiting for you to come since yesterday, Daddy,” he said. Then,
looking at his father's face, he exclaimed, worried: — You look so tired! Took a
long walk, perhaps?
—Very long indeed, my son. The entire distance from dawn to late afternoon.
They entered the house together, and except for the fire flickering in the fireplace,
it was dark. The son lit candles, and for some time they sat by the fire, without
speaking, as the blacksmith was overcome by great fatigue and deprivation.
Finally he looked around, as if regaining consciousness, and asked:
Why are we alone?
His son gave him a reproachful look.
- Why? Mom is there in Pequeno, at Nan's house. And the second

little boy's birthday. They expected you to be there too.
- Oh yes. I should be. I should have been, Ned, but I was late, and for a while I
had to think about some matters that drove everything else from my mind.
However, I haven't forgotten Tomzinho.
He reached for his shirtfront and took out a small leather bag.
soft.
— I brought him something. A little thing, maybe old Noques called it that, but
it comes from Fairyland, Ned. — She took a small silver object from her bag. It
looked like the smooth stem of a tiny lily, from the top of which emerged three
delicate flowers that drooped like well-proportioned bells. And they were bells, for
when he shook them lightly, each flower uttered a faint, clear note. At that
enchanting sound, the candles flickered and then, for a moment, they glowed
with white light.
Ned's eyes were wide with astonishment.

— Can I look at him, Daddy? - he requested. He held it carefully between his fingers and peered
into the flowers. — The work is wonderful! - he said. —And, Daddy, the bells have a scent... a
scent that reminds me... reminds me... well, of something I've forgotten.
— Yes, the perfume comes a little after the bells ring. But don't be afraid to handle it, Ned. It
was made for a little child to play with. It cannot harm you, nor will any harm come to you from it.
The blacksmith put the gift back into the bag and put it away.
— I'm going to take him to Bosque Pequeno tomorrow — he said. — Nan and her Tom and
Mom will forgive me, who knows. As for Tomzinho, his time has not yet come to count the days...
and the weeks, and the months, and the
years.
- It is true. Go, Daddy. I would like to go with you, but it will take some time before I can go to
Pequeno. I couldn't have gone today, even if I hadn't waited for him here. There is a lot of work to
do, and more coming.
— No, no, son of the Blacksmith! Take time off! Grandfather's name has not yet weakened my
arms. Bring on the work! Now there will be two pairs of hands to attack you, every working day. I'm
not going on trips again, Ned, not on long trips, if you know what I mean.
— Is that how it is, Daddy? I wondered what became of the star. This is hard. — He took his
father's hand. — I feel sad for you, but I also see something good in this, for this house. You know,
Master Blacksmith, there is a lot you can still teach me, if you have time. And I don't just mean the
iron craft.
They had dinner together, and long after finishing they were still sitting
at the table, while the blacksmith told his son about his last trip to Fairyland and other things that
came to his mind, but he said nothing about choosing the next person to receive the star.
Finally the son looked at him and said:
— Dad, do you remember the day you came back with Flower? I said you looked like a giant,
given the shadow. The shadow was the truth. So it was with the Queen herself that you danced!
However, you delivered the star. I hope it goes to someone equally deserving. The child should be
grateful.
— The child won't know — explained the blacksmith. — That's how it goes with such gifts. Well,
there it is. I passed it on and went back to the hammer and
tenacious.
It's a strange thing, but old Noques, who mocked his apprentice, had never been
able to get the disappearance of the star in Bolo out of his head, despite the fact
that this event had happened so many years ago. He had become fat and lazy and
retired from his position when he turned sixty (not a very old age in the village).
Now he was nearing the end of his ninth decade and was a very bulky person, as
he still ate voraciously and was crazy about sugar. He spent most of the day, when
he was not at the table, in a large chair by the window of his cottage or by the door
if the weather was good. He liked to talk, as he still had many opinions to offer.
Lately, however, his conversation had turned mainly to the one Great Cake he had
made (of which he was now firmly convinced), for whenever he fell asleep it
entered his dreams. Newbie sometimes stopped to exchange a word or two with
him. The old cook still called him that, and he himself expected to be called Master.
Novato took care to do it, and it was a point in his favor, although there were others
that Noques liked more.
One afternoon, Noques was dozing in his chair by the door after dinner.
He woke up with a start and saw Novato standing nearby, looking down on him.
Greeted him.
- Hello! I'm glad to see you, because that cake came to mind again.
In fact, right now I was thinking about him. It was the best cake I've ever made,
and that's no small feat. But perhaps you have forgotten it.
— No, Master. I remember him very well. But what ails you? It was a good
cake, and it was appreciated and praised.
- It is clear. I did it. But that doesn't bother me. She's the little girl, the star.
I can't imagine what became of her. Of course it wouldn't melt. I only said that to
prevent the children from being afraid. I wonder if one of them swallowed it. It
would be possible? You can swallow one of those coins and not notice it, but not
that star. Although small, it had sharp edges.
- Yes Master. But do you really know what the star was made of? Do not
worry about it. Someone swallowed it, I assure you.
- But who? Well, I have a long memory, and somehow that day stuck with me. I
can remember all the children's names. Let me
think. It must have been Miller's Molly! She was greedy and devoured her food.
Now she's as fat as a bag.
— Yes, some people are like that, Master. But Molly didn't devour
your cake. She found two offal in her slice.
— Oh, did you find it? Well, then it was Harry from the Cooper. A boy barrel
with a mouth as big as a frog.
— I would say, Master, that he was a kind boy, with a big friendly smile. In any case, he was so
careful that he crumbled his slice before eating it. He found nothing but cake.
— Then it must have been that pale little girl, Fanqueiro's Lily. She
He used to swallow pins as a baby, and they didn't hurt him.
— It wasn't Lily, Master. She only ate the frosting and sugar and gave the filling
to the boy sitting next to her.
— Then I give up. Who was? It seems like you were watching very closely, if you're not making
it up.
— It was the Blacksmith's son, Master, and I think it did him good.
— Now, go! — laughed old Noques. — I should have known you were playing a game with me.
Do not be ridiculous! At that time Ferreiro was a quiet and slow boy. Now he makes more noise: a
kind of singer, they say.
But he is cautious. Don't take any risks. Chew twice before swallowing, and you've always done
that, if you know what I mean.
— I understand, Master. Well, if you don't believe it was Ferreiro, I can't help you.
Now it might not make much difference. Will it ease your mind if I tell you that the star is already
back in the box? Here is she!
Novato was wearing a dark green cloak, which Noques now noticed for the first time. From its
folds he extracted the black box and opened it under the old cook's nose.
— There's the star, Master, down there, in the corner.
Old Noques started coughing and sneezing, but finally looked inside the box.
— It really is! — he exclaimed. — At least that's what it seems like.

— It's the same, Master. I was the one who put it there a few days ago. She will be back
for the Big Cake this winter.
- There is! Noques glanced at Novato sideways, then laughed until he shook like jelly. —
Got it, got it! Twenty-four children and twenty-four pieces of luck, and the star was an extra.
Then you pinched it out before baking and saved it for another time. You've always been a
roguish, smart guy, we could say. And frugal: he didn't even waste a bit of butter. Haha ha!
So that's what happened. I should have guessed.
Well, that's settled. Now I can nap in peace. — He settled down in the chair. — Take care that
this apprentice of yours doesn't play any tricks on you! Artists don't know all the arts, they say.
— He closed his eyes.
— See you soon, master! — said Novato, closing the box with such a click that the cook
opened his eyes again. — Noques, your knowledge is so great that I only dared to tell you
something twice. I told you the star came from Fairyland, and I just told you it went to the
blacksmith. You laughed at me. Now, as I say goodbye, I'm going to tell you one more thing.
Don't laugh again! You are a futile, fat, idle and sly old impostor. I did most of your work.
Without thanking you, you learned everything you could from me, except respect for Fairyland
and a little courtesy. You don't even have enough to wish me good morning.
— If it's a matter of courtesy — Noques replied — I don't see any in calling the older and
better people bad names. Take your Fairy and her
nonsense to another place! Good morning to you, if that's what you've been waiting for.
Now get going! — He waved his hand in a mocking gesture. — If you have one of your fairy
friends hiding in the Kitchen, send them to me and I'll take a look at them. If he waves his
magic wand and makes me thin again, he'll go up in my opinion,” he laughed.
— Could you spare a few moments for the King of Fairyland? — replied the other.
To Noques' dismay, he grew in stature as he spoke.

He threw the cloak back. He was dressed like a Chef at a Banquet, but his white robes
shimmered and sparkled, and on his forehead was a great jewel like a radiant star. His face
was young but stern.
“Old man,” he said. – at least you’re not older than me. As for being better, you often
made fun of me behind my back. Now challenge me
openly?
He took a step forward, and Noques cowered before him, trembling. He tried to scream for help,
but found he could barely whisper.
- No sir! — he croaked. — Don't hurt me! I'm nothing but a poor man
old.
The King's face softened.
- Sadly yes! You tell the truth. Do not be afraid! Rest assured!
But don't you hope the King of Fairyland will do something for you before you leave him? I grant
your wish. Goodbye! Now go to sleep!
He wrapped himself in his cloak again and headed towards the Hall. But before he disappeared,
the old cook's wide eyes were closed, and he
snored.
When the old cook woke up, the sun was setting. He rubbed his eyes and shivered a little, as the
autumn air was somewhat chilly.
- Ufa! What a dream! It must have been that pork for dinner,” he said.
From that day on, he was so afraid of having nightmares of this kind that he barely risked eating
anything, for fear that it might make him feel unwell, and his meals became very brief and simple.
Soon he lost weight, and his clothes and skin hung from his body in folds and folds. The children
called him old Rag-and-Bones. After some time, he discovered that he was able to walk around the
village again and only walked with the help of a cane. He lived many years longer than he would
have otherwise. In fact, it is said that the only memorable thing he accomplished was completing his
centenary. However, until the last year of his life he could be heard saying to anyone who wanted to
listen to his story:
—Terrible, we could call it. But it was a foolish dream, when you think about it. King of the Fairies!
Well, he didn't have any magic wand. And those who stop eating lose weight. It's natural. Very
reasonable. There is no magic in this.
The time has come for the Banquet of the Twenty-Four. Ferreiro was there to sing songs, and his
wife was there to help with the children. Ferreiro looked at them as they sang and danced and
thought that they were more beautiful and lively than the children of his childhood. For a moment,
the desire crossed his mind
to know what Alf would have done in his spare time. Any of the children would
have been able to find the star. However, her eyes were fixed mainly on Tim, a
rather chubby little boy, clumsy when dancing, but with a sweet voice when he
sang. He was sitting at the table in silence, watching the knife being sharpened
and the cake being cut. Suddenly he said:
— Dear Mr. Cuca, just cut a small slice for me, please. I've already eaten so
much that I feel satisfied.
“Okay, Tim,” said Alf. — I'll cut you a special slice. I think that
it will go down easily.
Blacksmith watched Tim eating his cake slowly but with pleasure. However,
when he found neither offal nor coin inside it, he seemed disappointed.
However, soon a light began to shine in his eyes, and he laughed and rejoiced,
and sang softly. Then he stood up and began to dance alone, with a peculiar
grace never before demonstrated. All the children laughed and clapped.
“So everything is fine”, thought Ferreiro. “It means you are my heir. I wonder
what strange places the star will take him to. Poor old Noques! But I imagine he
will never know what a shocking thing happened in his family.”
I never knew. But something happened at that Banquet that pleased him
immensely. Before it ended, Mestre-Cuca said goodbye to the children and
everyone else who was present.
“Now I'm going to say goodbye,” he declared. — I will leave in a day or two.
The Master Harper is well prepared to take my place. He's a great cook and, as
you know, he comes from your village. I'll go home. I don't think they'll miss me.
The children said goodbye happily, politely thanking Cuca for his beautiful
cake. Only little Tim took him by the hand and whispered:
- I am really sorry.
In the village, in fact, several families missed Alf for a while.

Some of his friends, especially Blacksmith and Harper, were saddened by his
departure and kept the Hall gilded and painted in memory of Alf. Most people,
however, were happy. Had been among them for a while
very long, and they did not regret the change. But old Noques banged his cane
on the ground and said bluntly:
— Finally he's gone! And I'm happy with that. I never liked him. He was artistic.
Too quick, we could say.
Afterword
The following page, in facsimile, which introduces this second part of the book, shows the
oldest draft version of the story. Typed in black ink, it had two revisions that can be
distinguished: one written in blue ink, with a fountain pen, and the other in red ink, with a
ballpoint pen. Judging by its appearance, the red review is the most recent, as in some
places it appears to have been written over the blue one. Through them, we can
reconstruct the author's process from the first creative impetus of inspiration, with the
successive stages of modification and elaboration. Thus, the page can serve as part for
the whole, showing the development of Tolkien's idea from the initial concept of
village cook and his cake, through the evolution of characters and situations, until the final
story.
Blacksmith of Bigwood was the last story that JRR Tolkien wrote, and also the last of
his works to be published in his lifetime. Composed many years after his other short fiction
works — Roverandom, Mestre Gil de Ham and Sr.
Bliss were written in the 1920s and 1930s; Folha, by Migalha, in 1943 Ferreiro began –,
writing in 1964, when his great work, The Lord of the Rings, was already more than a
decade behind and his lifelong dedication to the mythology of the Silmarillion was running
out. Tolkien was 72 when he began the story and 75 when it was published in 1967. Thus,
the book was the result of experience and reflection, of maturation, not of the exuberant
and energetic imagination of his youth and middle age. It does not have the adventurous
extroversion of Roverandom, the robust ironic humor of Mestre Gil, the reckless energy of
Sr. Bliss, nor the transcendent vision and sublime happy ending of Folha, de Migalha.
The story of the craftsman, of the blacksmith who travels to the Other World, is Tolkien's
homage to the world of imagination that he called Faërie — or Fairy or Fayery or Faery
[1]. The spelling varied, but the concept remained consistent.
Ferreiro is also his later, pure and uncompromising presentation of this world and its effect
on a human being who travels there. Thus, the story is the imaginative realization of the
theoretical concept he presented in his 1939 lecture-essay, “On Fairy-Stories.” In it Tolkien
sought to highlight the obvious but often unnoticed fact that fairy stories are not about
fairies, but rather about “the adventures of men in the Perilous Kingdom or its dark
confines”. He defended the fairies against the
popular misconception that they are sensitive and tiny. He defended fairyland against
the equally mistaken idea that it is delicate, cute and trivial when evaluated from a
human point of view. Stating exactly the opposite, he declared that Faërie is “a
dangerous land, in which there are traps for the unwary and dungeons for the too
bold”. And he continued: “A human being may perhaps consider himself fortunate to
have wandered in this kingdom, but its very richness and strangeness tie the tongue
of the traveler who wishes to relate them.
And while you're there, it's dangerous to ask too many questions, because the gates
might close and the keys might get lost.” The repeated use of the word dangerous is
a sign of how seriously Tolkien took the concept.
Ferreiro de Bosque Grande invites readers to experience what the fairy tale essay
explains: the adventures of a human being in the land of fairies, as well as the
dangers and wonders that exist in that realm. Although the unwary and occasionally
too bold Blacksmith encounters dangers and traps, he still considers himself
fortunate to have wandered into Faery (spelling used in the story). His “wealth and
strangeness” do not completely tie his tongue, as he relates his adventures to his
own family. However, to the other people in their everyday world, exemplified by the
crass and insensitive Noques, Ferreiro's (and Tolkien's) Fairyland is, at best, a mere
children's fable and, at worst, a joke. Although Ferreiro asks few questions while he
is there, in the end the gates close on him and the key, although not lost, still needs
to be returned to be passed on to another
person.
Protected by the star, which is his passport, Ferreiro can wander in the enchanted
kingdom, but he remains a visitor, not an inhabitant. No vision or event is explained
to him, no secret is discovered, no mystery is revealed. Fairyland makes no
concessions to human curiosity, nor does it have tolerance for human weakness.
Blacksmith is in danger because of innocent mistakes, such as stepping on the hard
surface of the lake, which awakens the Wild Wind and causes the birch to order him
to leave and never return. On the other hand, he also finds friends where he least
expects them, such as among the dancing maidens, when he becomes the Fairy
Queen's partner, but he doesn't know who she is. The wonderful, beautiful, and
terrible things he witnesses have a faedic history and meaning that he continues to
ignore. His adventures as a stranger in this strange land parallel those of Tolkien's
readers, for whom there is no explanation for what Blacksmith (or they) sees in
Fairyland. We can conjecture that Tolkien wanted readers to not only share the
experience of
Blacksmith's amazement, mystery and terror, but also his own, and perhaps even
perplexity at the richness and strangeness he encountered in his imaginative travels
to Fairyland.
The story had a curious genesis, evolving from a publisher's request that Tolkien
write the introduction to a new edition of George MacDonald's fairy tale The Golden
Key . Tolkien began the presentation trying to explain the true meaning of the word
fairy[2].
Fairy is very powerful. Even the bad author[3] cannot escape it.
He probably builds his tale from fragments of older tales, or from things he
only half-remembers, and these may be too strong for him to corrupt or
disenchant.
One may meet them for the first time in their foolish story, and catch a
glimpse of Fairy, and move on to things of better quality. This could be put
in the form of a short story like this: Once upon a time there was a cook,
and he thought about making a cake for a children's party. His main intention
was for him to be very sweet...
“Then I stopped,” he later wrote, “realizing that the 'tale' had created
life of its own and would have to be completed as a thing in itself.”
During the next two years, in which Blacksmith of the Great Wood was “completed
as a thing in itself,” Tolkien solved the problem. Instead of trying to explain Faery, he
described it. It kept the image of the cake very sweet to symbolize the popular
misconception of Faery as something sweetened and intended only for children.
Balancing the allegorical cake, however, is the very real human whose entry into the
enchanted realm allows him to “get a glimpse” of Faery in all its mystery, severity,
and beauty. Triggered by the image of the cake, the story was initially—and for much
of the time it was written—titled “The Big Cake,” but as Tolkien's imagination moved
from the cake to the boy, he altered the meaning of the cake. title to reflect this more
realistic approach, naming the story after its main character.
Having abandoned the presentation of MacDonald's story to devote himself to the

tale itself, by the beginning of the following year, 1965, Tolkien had drafted a
preliminary draft. In JRR Tolkien: A Biography, Humphrey Carpenter noted that
Blacksmith was “unusual” for Tolkien in that it was composed on a typewriter. This
would indeed be unusual for the man who, deprived of a pencil, compared himself to
a chicken without a beak. Carpenter's presumption was based
evidently in a statement Tolkien had made to Clyde Kilby that a certain typed
version of the story was “virtually the original” and “was never composed in
manuscript.” The original word and the phrase “was never composed” conveyed
the impression, quite reasonably, that the story was composed entirely on a
typewriter. However, even if we discount the various handwritten versions of
the presentation, there was at least a partial stage of handwritten composition,
an early version begun on the typewriter but continued in manuscript, a half-
and-half, a hybrid draft.
The apparent discrepancy between the assertion and the evidence can be
resolved by noting the word virtually in Tolkien's phrase: “virtually the original.”
Virtual simply means “for all intents and purposes, yet not in fact”. Since the
typed “original” in question incorporated much previously handwritten material,
it was undoubtedly “for all intents and purposes” the first fully realized draft and
therefore virtually the original. It is likely this complete draft, called by Tolkien a
“carelessly typed copy, corrected and altered by hand,” that was “never
composed” in manuscript.
Additionally, there are three complete versions of the story typed in single
space. There is a preliminary full draft A, a corrected full copy B, with side notes
and ink amendments, and a final clean copy C, with minimal corrections for
typing errors and notes such as “leave space” [between paragraphs], obviously
serving as instructions to the typographer. Draft A is probably the virtual original
that Tolkien mentioned in his note to Kilby. The header says “O Grande Bolo”,
but later a hand wrote “Ferreiro de Bosque” with a marker on the newsprint
wrapper.
Below that, the same hand (and pen) noted “full copy before final review.” Draft
B, revised from draft A, whose heading is also “The Big Cake”, contains the
additional episode of Blacksmith's adventure at the Lake of Tears. In some of
the preliminary drafts of this incident, conceived separately for insertion into the
story, the lake is clearly liquid, so fluid that Ferreiro can swim in it. In draft B
this has been revised, the surface of the lake appears as “harder than stone
and smoother than glass”. In draft C, smooth is replaced by polished, and the
surface of the lake is described in C, as in the published book, as “slipperier
than glass.”
Draft C also introduces the title change, with a separate title page on which
the typed Ferreiro de Bosque Grande appears, with the
Tolkien's signature written underneath, in ink. A large stamped postal envelope

addressed to “Miss Incledon, Woodcocks, Ditchling, Hassocks, Sussex” served
as the cover for C. Evidently, Tolkien had sent a copy of the story to his cousin
and contemporary Marjorie Incledon, May's eldest daughter, his mother's sister.
A handwritten note on the envelope identifies C as “Version as read in Black
Friars.” This version included a handwritten introduction addressed to an
audience of “everyone who might have come here expecting me to talk about
poetry”.
In a letter dated 28 October 1966, Tolkien described the afternoon at
Blackfriars to his grandson Michael George, then an undergraduate at Oxford.
“I did not warn you about my talk on Wednesday night,” he wrote. “I thought
you would be very busy. I didn't actually give a lecture, but I read a recently
written and unpublished short story; and you can read it when you have time:
Ferreiro de Bosque Grande; if I haven’t already inflicted it on you.” The
immediate nature of the reference to “Wednesday night” suggests that the
reading had occurred very recently, and, in fact, October 26, 1966, two days
before the date of the letter, was Wednesday. Tolkien described the night like this:
The event completely surprised me and also the promoters of the

series: the prior of Blackfriars and the director of Pusey House. It was
an unpleasant wet night. But such a crowd flocked to Blackfriars that
the refectory (a long hall, as long as a church) had to be emptied and
could not accommodate them. Arrangements for relays for the passages
outside had to be made hastily. I was told that more than eight hundred
people were able to enter. Things got very heated, and I think you were
better off elsewhere.[4]
In response to a question about this event, a different version was presented

by Father Bailey, then prior of Blackfriars, who had invited Tolkien to participate.
Father Bailey wrote:
As far as I remember, there was no publicity, other than perhaps a

sheet of paper taped to the church door. But word spread, and the
result was buses from London, Cambridge and perhaps even Leicester.
The talk was given in the cafeteria, a large room, with marble floors,
from Portugal, if I remember correctly, and chairs along the walls.
All the seats were occupied, and the floor was full of people sitting
with legs bent. As a result, the cable from the point located in the
middle of the floor to his [Tolkien's] microphone, high up in the cafeteria,
was damaged, so that people near the back couldn't hear him. But it
didn't matter — they sat calmly, looking at him as if he were one of the
apostles. Seeing him and looking at him was enough.
(Personal communication to the publisher.)
A second explanation for the difficulty in listening to the speaker is Tolkien's

apology to his audience that he was “suffering from the after-effects of a sore
throat”.
By the end of October 1966, therefore, the story was essentially in its final, as-
published form, for, apart from the proofreader's sporadic lateral corrections of
typographical errors, Blackfriars's version coincides in every detail with the later
book.
Ferreiro de Bosque Grande was published in November 1967 by George
Allen & Unwin Ltd. The book was a hardcover edition, in a small format (14.7 ×
10.5 cm), with illustrations by Pauline Baynes, who had done the illustrations
by Master Gil de Ham, The adventures of Tom Bombadil. In the same month,
Tolkien's North American publisher, Houghton Mifflin, published a slightly larger
hardcover edition (16.2 × 10.8 cm), with illustrations by Baynes. Both editions
were reprinted several times. The story was also published in Redbook
magazine n. 130 (December 1967, p. 58-61 and 101, 103-7), with illustrations
by Milton Glaser. In 1969, Ballantine Books published a double paperback
edition of Ferreiro de Bosque Grande and Mestre Gil de Ham. Allen & Unwin
published a second hardcover edition of the story in 1975, and a second North
American edition came out in 1978. New hardcover editions with illustrations
by Roger Garland were released by Unwin Hyman in 1990 and by Houghton
Mifflin in 1991. In 1997, HarperCollins included the story in Tales from the
Perilous Realm (the other stories were Master Gil de Ham, The adventures of
Tom Bombadil and Folha, by Migalha). With Tree and Leaf, Master Gil de Ham,
The Adventures of Tom Bombadil and Sir Gawain and the Green Knight,
Ferreiro was part of A Tolkien Miscellany , published by Science Fiction Book
Club in 2002. And these are just the English-language editions. The story has
been translated into Afrikaans, Dutch, German, Swedish, Japanese, Spanish,
Catalan, Czech, Polish, Hebrew, Portuguese[5], Russian, Finnish,
Italian, Serbo-Croatian and French. Compared to the story's evident popular

appeal, critical reaction to Ferreiro was mixed. Writing in the Children's Libraries
Newsletter, vol. 4, no. 2 (May 1968), Hugh Crago assessed that the book was
not as good as Tolkien's longer fiction and criticized the narrative for a lack of
humor, and its human characters for lacking the “glorious individuality” of
hobbits. A different view was presented by Christopher Derrick in Tablet, no.
222 (February 10, 1968). Derrick called Ferreiro a “sad, wise book” and “a myth
of great delicacy”. Frederick Lauritson, in Library Journal, n. 92 (November 15,
1967), felt that both the plot and characters lacked depth. In the National Review
of May 7, 1968, Jared Lobdell opined that although the book had “great
moments,” it was “a little too charming to bear rereading.” Reviewing it in the
New York Times Book Review on February 4, 1968, Robert Phelps correctly
called it an “elegy” and described it as “an unpretentious and obsessive tale.”
In the Horn Book of February 1968, RH Vigures considered the story “graceful,
joyful and beautiful”. Tolkien himself called it “the book of an old man, already
oppressed with the foreboding of deprivation,” and, taking his cue, many read
Ferreiro’s handing over of the star as Tolkien’s farewell to his art. Paul Kocher
considered the story to be the author's “Prospero speech,” and Humphrey
Carpenter saw in it “[Tolkien's] anxiety about the future and his growing grief
as old age approaches.”
Even though these elements are undeniably present, it would be a disservice

to the book and its author to assume that the story contains nothing more than
a long goodbye. By rights and apart from any biographical considerations, it
remains a true fairy tale in Tolkienian terms — a story “about
the adventures of men in the Perilous Realm” of Faërie, “the kingdom or state
in which fairies exist”. This kingdom contains “the oceans, the Sun, the Moon,
the firmament; and the Earth, and all things in it: tree and bird, water and stone,
wine and bread, and ourselves, mortal human beings, when we are enchanted.”
Perhaps the person who best assessed the quality of the story, illusory and
yet moving, was Roger Lancelyn Green, who observed in the Sunday Telegraph
of December 3, 1967 that “to look for meaning is to open the ball in search of
its rebound”. Tolkien loved the comment and wrote to Green to thank him. He
also kept, but not as a treasure, what is, without a doubt, the most scathing
commentary on the book, “Among a Faery Elite”, by Christopher Williams,
published in New Society on December 7
1967. In its superb disdain for Tolkien's goals, methods, and final product,
Williams's review rivals Edmund Wilson's assessment of The Lord of the Rings:
“Oo! Those Awful Orcs!” [Huh! What horrible Orcs!], in Nation, n. 182, April 14,
1956. Williams quoted phrases out of context, dismissed Tolkien's Faery as “the
medievalist's version of a cellophane patch” and proclaimed the story's unsuitability
for “modern children.” However, just as The Lord of the Rings outlived Edmund
Wilson, Blacksmith of Bigwood outlived Christopher Williams. It seems safe to
predict that the beauty and mystery of Tolkien's story will continue to delight and
interest
readers when the critics are long gone.
A particular aim of this new edition was to provide the reader with a glimpse of
the author at work, attaching to the story transcripts of documents relating to his
creation and evolution. Tolkien's explanation to Cly of Kilby of the story's genesis
and the ensuing transcript of his never-finished performance of The Golden Key
chart the progress of his invention, from dissatisfaction with George MacDonald
to the germ of his idea. to the story itself. The “Temporal scheme and characters”,
the “Suggestions for the end of the story” and the long and thoughtful essay
“Ferreiro de Bosque Grande” convey the meticulously mapped backstory and
philosophical underpinning, the invisible but essential support structure, of the
narrative.
The “Temporal scheme and characters” presents extensive genealogies and

stories about the main inhabitants of Bosque Grande. Focusing in particular on
the mysterious Grandpa Ginete, who leaves Bosque at the beginning of the story
never to return, he provides a year-by-year chronology that precedes the beginning
of the story by some seventy years and spans one hundred and twenty-three
generations. of the characters' lives. Tolkien gave his characters—who were
evidently as real to him as they were to each other—their proper names, their
family histories, and their relationships with each other and with the village.
The same concern led him to his “Suggestions for the end of the story”, to
speculation about the reasons and phrasing of the Queen's message and to
attention to the important relationship between Ferreiro and his son, with the
necessary absence of his wife and daughter de Ferreiro at the time of his final
return from Fairyland and with the dynamics of the final dialogue between the
Apprentice and Noques. The long essay, called “Blacksmith of Bosque Grande,”
like the story itself, examines the physical environment of the village, as well as
its moral and spiritual condition at the opening. The essay describes their crafts, especially th
cooking in village life; maps its relationship with the Bosque and with the smaller
villages, Bosque Pequeno and Vilamata, within the Bosque; and examines in
detail the relationship, implicit but vital, between the inhabitants of the human and
fadic worlds.
Finally, three facsimile documents provide evidence of the creation and revision
process. The hybrid draft, which unfortunately has two pages missing, still presents
what is probably its oldest version of the complete story, as it ends with the last
dialogue between the Apprentice and old Noques. The first half of this draft is
typed, while the second, continuing an uninterrupted sequence of thoughts, is
written in ink.
This draft contains elements that, despite being removed later, left their mark on
the story. The first is the object that goes inside the cake, which on the typed
pages is not a star, but a ring. In the manuscript continuation, the ring gives way
to the star, and remains so from then on. But, be it a ring or a star, the presence
of a legitimate fairy artifact was the necessary counterbalance to the other artifact,
the very sweet cake that represents Cuca's idea of something fairy.
The second is the blacksmith epithet. When the King meets the blacksmith in
Fairyland, he addresses him as “Gilthir”, and in the narrative it is added: “For that
was his name (Starry Front) in Fairyland; At home he was called Alfred Son of the
Blacksmith.” Just like the ring, the fadic name Gilthir disappears, as in all
subsequent drafts of this episode the blacksmith is simply called “Starry Front”, as
in the final published version. Reduced to Alf, the name was given to the
Apprentice, for whom the equation Alf = Elf was more suitable.
Two other facsimiles, a manuscript and a typed version of the episode “Lake of
Tears”, which were inserted, illustrate how Tolkien expanded Ferreiro de Bosque
Grande from the inside out. Added at the time of draft B and retained in C, the
scene evolved in four stages of composition: two very rudimentary single-page
handwritten versions, a clear but incomplete handwritten copy reproduced in this
volume, and a final single-page typed draft, also reproduced in this volume. The
trajectory of the story remained coherent from the beginning, but the narrative
design was elaborated by the addition of details and episodes.
This added material provides the reader with an expanded view of the creative
process, showing Tolkien literally thinking on paper, and
allows you to follow the author's path, from inspiration to formulation and
thorough revision, bringing Ferreiro de Bosque Grande and his author to life.
VERLYN FLIEGER
“Genesis of history”
Tolkien's note to Clyde Kilby
Possibly the most interesting item, which reveals the genesis of the story.
Sometime in 1964, I arranged with Pantheon Books to write a preface to G.
MacDonald's Golden Key , which they intended to publish as a “fairy story” for
children. No doubt I was approached because I mentioned G.
M. (and The G. Key in particular) with praise in Tree and Leaf, p. 26 (American ed.)
[6]. However, I discovered that a highly selective memory had only retained a few
impressions of things that moved me, and a critical rereading of GM deeply
displeased me. Of course, I had never thought of The GK as a story for children
(as much as G. McD apparently did). So the task proved unpleasant for me, but I
was relieved of it by the bankruptcy of the project (and, as far as I know, perhaps
of Pantheon Books).
When I was trying to say some useful things in a preface, it seemed inevitable
to deal with the term fairy - always inevitable today, whether talking to children or
adults (cf. Jack's letter of October 9, 1954 in recent collection).
In the course of this process, I tried to give an idea of “Faery” — and I said: “This
could be put into 'story' form like this” and then I went on to what is a first version
of Ferreiro de BG, pp . 11-20. Then I stopped, realizing that the “story” had created
a life of its own and should be completed as a thing in itself. If I had continued, I
would have just written a deeply critical essay or “anti-essay” on GM—unnecessary,
and regrettable, since GM has done great service to other minds, like Jack's. But
evidently he was born loving (moral) allegory, and I was born with an instinctive
aversion to it. “Phantastes” aroused him, and afflicted me with deep antipathy. In
any case, it is better to preach by example than by criticizing others. Ferreiro,
however, remains, so to speak, “an anti-GM treatise”. There is no allegory in Faery,
which is conceived as endowed with real, extramental existence. [There is a trace
of allegory in the human part that seems evident to me, despite the fact that no
reader or critic has yet come across it. As usual, there is no “religion” in the story,
but very clearly the Master Cook and the Great Hall, etc. are an allegory (somewhat
satirical) of the village church and the village priest: their functions continually
decline and they lose all contact with the
“arts”, reduced to the simple act of eating and drinking — with the last trace of
anything “different” remaining in children.]
Draft presentation of
Tolkien for The Golden Key
DON'T READ THIS! Not yet.
This is a famous fairy story. I hope you like her. This is all that needs to be said as
an “introduction”: Reader, I present to you the Golden Key.
I never read what they call “presentations” of stories, whether “fairy” or not, these
long speeches about the author or the story, and I don’t think anyone should read
them. It's not fair to the author or the reader. The author intended to speak directly
to his reader, and did not want someone else to interfere by warning him to pay
attention to this or that or to understand this or that, without the story having even
begun. Initially you need to have the freedom to notice and like (or dislike) this and
that on your own, without help or (most likely) hindrance. So don't pay attention to
me. At least not until they've read the story. For what is wrong with “presentations”
is their place. They should come second, not first, and be called “post lectiones” or
post-readings, and be like the conversations a reader might have with other people
who have read the story: such conversations could lead to a sharing of the story.
pleasure or a debate on disagreements, and even lead to a second reading.
After all, perhaps it would be very impolite and also uncomfortable if I said: “Dear
reader, may I introduce you to George MacDonald? I hope you notice his beautiful
beard, although you need to remember that in his time men wore beards, big
beards, but his is bigger and better than most. See his amazing clothes: his scarlet
cloak, his wonderful vest with dozens of golden buttons, and his jewels! But you
should see him in full Scottish Highland regalia, complete with kilt, tartan cloak and
dagger. And of course you noticed his Scottish accent and his name, and that
explains everything. Still, I need to warn you that he is a preacher, not just on the
platform or in the pulpit: in all his countless books he preaches, and it is his
preaching that is most valued by the adult people who most admire him.”
I think it would be best to just leave you and George MacDonald alone for a few
moments, walking or talking to each other, and let you first discover what you can
for yourselves, with your own eyes and ears.
But of course the conversation would be brief, just as The Golden Key is brief, despite
it being one of the best things MacDonald wrote. And after the reading or the meeting you
might want to ask questions. As soon as we meet them, people seem enigmatic; and the
remarkable people, very enigmatic. This also happens with his writings. So it might be
interesting to hear what others have to say, perhaps someone who has known the person,
or their books, better or longer. If it's interesting and you want to hear more, then read this.
If not, don't even bother.
If you're the kind of reader MacDonald was really targeting and you've read The Golden
Key, you won't forget the story. At least something will remain in your mind, as a beautiful
or strange or troubling image, and there it will grow, and so will its meaning, or one of its
meanings—its meaning for you to unfold as you too grow. For me, the main –, will go
image that remained was the great valley surrounded by compact and towering mountains,
with its smooth bottom, where shadows played, the sea of shadows cast by things that
could not be seen. When I reread the story after a few years, I was surprised by how many
things I had forgotten. But that still remains the center of the story for me. Now I discover
that, naturally, this stirred the imagination of other readers, although it did not seem as
important to all of them as it did to me, nor did it have the same “meaning” for them as it
did for me. However, it doesn't bother me. These images or visions that appear in such
stories are large and vivid, and no one who sees them, not even the author himself, fully
understands them. This is what happens with people (even small people) or with countries
(even provinces): they are too big, full of varied things, for even former friends or
inhabitants to have the same opinions about them. And when it comes to Fairyland, it has
no known boundaries, no maps! Travelers have to manage without them — probably the
best thing. For if they make one for their own use, they will lose it or discover that it will be
of no use when they return, especially if they go along a different road.
However, since MacDonald himself called The Golden Key a history

of fairies, I believe something must be said about “fairies”.
If something is called a “fairy story”, the first thing to look at is the word “story”. No
matter what comes next: simple, fairy, about the past, ghosts, scientific, cautionary, moral,
or simply funny, it needs to tell something. A story is a
series of related events that should interest a listener in their own right, but
especially because they are arranged in sequence from chosen beginning to
chosen ending. I say “chosen” referring to the “inventor,” because the beginning
and end of a story are to her what the edges of the canvas or an added frame
are to the painting of, say, a landscape. It focuses the accountant's attention,
and yours, on a small part of the country. But of course there are no real limits:
under the earth, and in the sky above it, and in the remote and dimly glimpsed
far reaches, and in the unrevealed regions on either side, there are things that
influence the very shape and color of the part represented. Without them, it
would be very different, and they are really necessary to understand what you
see.
Still, if we look at the painting, or listen to the story, we should be captured
by it, we should want to hear it all (perhaps more than once), we should enjoy
hearing it, even before we start to think why. Otherwise, the story will have
failed (for us). The word placed next doesn't matter much, although it can help,
from the beginning, to read it in the right mood. However, it can also be
misleading. Stories, like the people who write them, are not easy to label or
describe with a single word. Sincere people (preachers, for example) can also
have humor; people linked to science can and sometimes write poetry and
even fairy stories. It may also be that you have an aversion to certain labels
and avoid anything with which one of them appears associated, such as a
sermon or medicine, and say “it’s not for me” without even trying it.
Either way, the most important and also most misleading label is fairy. On
the one hand, nowadays the label is often used incorrectly, and “especially
suitable for children” is often added to “fairy story”, which is enough to put off
any child (no matter what age group that word is used for). covers). Although it
is actually a compliment to “fairy stories”, since children in general are good
judges of stories like stories: if they captivate them, they make them want to
continue listening or reading. It was George MacDonald's own young children
who first heard Alice's Adventures in Wonderland read from the manuscript,
and Lewis Carroll published it because it delighted them.
On the other hand, fairy is often misunderstood. It was once a “great word,”
including many wonderful things, but in customary usage it has languished, so
that I suppose now, for many people, it means first a
little creature, like a tiny human being, cute or mischievous, who is normally
invisible to us. However, “fairy stories” are not just stories in which imaginary
creatures of this type appear. Many don't even mention them. In several others,
when they appear (as in The Golden Key), they are not important. You may
have noticed that, although George MacDonald wrote this story a hundred
years ago, he himself spoke of “the little creatures commonly called fairies”, but
added: “but there are many different kinds of fairies in Fairyland”. I could have
said “older, more powerful and important species”, but leave that for the readers
to discover, if they don't already know.
The truth is... I only mention this historical fact because it is impossible to
understand the meaning of fairy without knowing it... the truth is that fairy
originally didn't even mean a “creature”, small or large. It meant enchantment
or magic and the enchanted world or country where wonderful people lived,
great and small, with strange powers of mind and will, for good and for evil.
There all things were wonderful: earth, water, air and fire, and all living and
growing beings, animals and birds, and trees and herbs, were strange and
dangerous, for they possessed hidden powers and were more than they
appeared to mortal eyes. . Thus, when fairy was associated with another word
(used as an adjective), such as wand or story or godmother, or in Fairy Queen
and Fairyland, it did not mean (and still does not mean) “a cute little fairy”. It
means powerful, magical, belonging to the Fairyland or coming from that
strange world. The Fairy Queen was not a queen in fairy form, but the Queen
of Fairyland, an important and dangerous person, even though she was
beautiful, Queen of the enchanted world and all her people. A fairy story is a
story about that world, a glimpse of it; if you read it, you will enter Fairyland with
the author as your guide. It can be a bad or good guide: bad if it doesn't take
the adventure seriously and is just “telling a tale” that it believes is good enough
for “children”; It's good if you know something about Fairyland and have seen
glimpses of it that you're trying to put into words. But Fairy is very powerful.
Even the bad guide cannot escape you. He probably builds his tale from
fragments of older tales or from things he only half-remembers, and these may
be too strong for him to corrupt or disenchant.
One may meet them for the first time in their foolish tale, catch a glimpse of
Fairyland, and move on to better things.
This could be put in the form of a “short story” like this. There once was a
cook, and he imagined making a cake for a children's party.
His main intention was for it to be very sweet, and he intended to cover it entirely
with sugar icing [here the text is interrupted]...
Temporal scheme and characters

“The Big Cake”
Characters
A. Alf, mysterious Apprentice named by V. Called Rookie by most people. Later he became MC
(Mestre-Cuca). Finally revealed as King of Fairyland, he lived in the village for 58 years (for his own
reasons), but, it is assumed, he never stopped visiting his kingdom during that time.
*AND. Ella, daughter of V. She married VF (see F) and was the mother of F.
F. Ferreiro. The main person in the story. He became the best blacksmith in the village and the
region. He received the “fairy star” at the Banquet and became a traveler in Fairyland. His name
(probably Ned, like his son) is not recorded. It was called the Starry Front in Fairyland.
JF. Young Blacksmith, his son Ned. NF. Nell (Weaver), his wife. NFF. Nan (Blacksmith's daughter),
his daughter and eldest descendant. VF. Old Blacksmith, his father, to whom he succeeded.
FR. The Fairy Queen. Appears only seen by F in Fairyland.
H. Harper. Succeeded A as MC.
N. Noques. V succeeded as MC, as they couldn't find anyone better when V (who had never
appointed an apprentice) left suddenly and didn't return.
NB. Noques de Beiravila, his grandson (see T). NF, NFF, see F.
*R. Rosa Cantadora, a beautiful young woman from a distant village, taken by V as his wife. She
died giving birth to E.
T. Tim, son of Noques de Beiravila and, therefore, great-grandson of Noques. His mother was W,
sister of NF, wife of Ferreiro. Inherited the star.
V. “Grandpa”. His name was Ginete. After an adventurous youth, she married R and settled down.
Later it became
He became MC's apprentice then, and finally MC himself. He was F's maternal grandfather.
*W. Wyn (Weaver), sister of NF and mother of NB.
Names marked with an asterisk are not mentioned by name in the story as told, but would be
important in a complete account. Two other people also appear quickly: TA, Tom (Artifice) de Bosque
Small, who married Nan, daughter of Blacksmith; and his son Tomzinho,
grandson of the blacksmith. Four children, also present at the banquet when F
received the star, are mentioned: in addition to Nell (NF), Molly the Miller, Harry
the Cooper and Lily the Fanboy.
Dates. Since no person older than V appears in the story, to show the sequence
of events and the ages of the various actors, the dates are calculated from the
year of V's birth, which was arbitrarily taken as 1000.
Year
1000 Birth of V.
1018 V leaves on his “travels” and only returns to Bosque Grande at irregular
intervals, until 1035.
1027 Birth of VF.
1030 Birth of N.
1035 V marries R and returns with her to Bosque Grande.
1037 E, daughter of V and R, is born and dies. V becomes a serious and taciturn
man.
1038 MC's apprentice dies in an accident. V offers to help him and learn the trade.
Try it out and quickly improve.
1044 V becomes MC.
1048 V holds a Banquet of the Twenty-Four with notable success.

Although he himself does not participate, he reintroduces singing and dancing (long
left aside) as part of the children's entertainment.
1052 N, a young man without a job, despite believing he has the skills to carry out
many of them, offers himself to V as an assistant. N's help is allowed when there is a
lot of work, but once he learns a little, he believes he knows everything.
V doesn't like him and some time later doesn't want him as an employee. V refuses
to appoint an apprentice from among the village boys.
1055 N marries a woman who has some money. He doesn't do anything in particular,
but cooks as a “hobby”.
1062 And, at the age of 25, he marries VF, who is ten years older. He had been
considered a confirmed bachelor, “too busy with work to think about getting married.”
In the spring immediately following the wedding, V goes on “vacation”. His daughter
E, an excellent cook, runs the Kitchen in his absence and declines N's help. V returns
just in time for the Winter Feast.
He takes A with him, as an apprentice, to everyone's surprise. She appears to be no
more than twelve or thirteen years old. Now V is a much happier man. It can be
assumed that he returned to Fairyland to pay a visit.
1063 F is born in June.

1065 N (Nell Weaver) is born, also in June. In the fall, V leaves again and announces
that he will not return. Leave A in charge. (Deposits a silver star in a black spice box in
the storeroom.) The Village Council does not want to appoint A as Master Chef because
he looks like a simple boy. For lack of anyone better, they name N as MC. A continues
as N's apprentice.
1072 Another Banquet of the Twenty-Four takes place. N puts the silver star on the Big
Cake among other coins and odds and ends, but in fact A does most of the Cake and all
the decorating. F and N[ell] are two of the children present. F swallows the star without
knowing it.
1073 F discovers the silver star at dawn on his tenth birthday in June.
1078 F begins to help his father VF in the forge, demonstrating an extraordinary talent.
1079 H is born.
1090 N, now very fat and lazy, retires at age 60. For a long time A did practically all his
work, as many in the village imagine.
A, now appearing to be a man in his 40s, is named MC.
1091 F marries Nell. F is 28 years old; Nell, 26. The marriage is probably delayed by F's
travels to Fairyland and his need to take on more and more of his father's work. It seems
that F went to Fairyland a few times a few years immediately after getting married and
did not go beyond its borders.
Probably most of his long journeys to Fairyland were undertaken between 1098 and 1108
and in 1115-1120.
1093 NFF (Nan) is born in May.
1095 A appoints H his apprentice.
1096 JF (Ned) is born in spring. In winter, a Banquet of the Twenty-Four is celebrated. It

was the first driven by A, having been praised as “the best we can remember”.
1104 VF dies (77).
1105 E, wife of VF, dies. F and his family move from a small house to the Old Forge
House. It is on the West Road, and is the last house in the village on that side.
1108 F returns from a long visit to Fairyland, bringing the Living Flower, given to him by the
dancing maiden.
1112 NB's son Tim is born in March.
1117 Nan marries Tom Artífice de Bosque Pequeno: a remote relative (third cousin),
descendant of V's mother's sister.
1118 Tomzinho, son of Nan and grandson of F, is born in autumn.
1120 F makes his last trip to Fairyland and meets the Queen. A catches up with him on the
way back. And he hands the star to A, who puts it in the black box. A pays a visit to old N.
The Banquet of the Twenty-Four is celebrated. The star passes to Tim. A announces his
departure. H becomes MC in the early days of 1121.
Suggestions for the end

of the story
The Fairy-Apprentice (it is evidently suggested that he was actually the King, on an
“adventure” or mission in the mortal world) must have had an apprentice himself: the
situation of Cuca who leaves and leaves no successor cannot be repeated. It is necessary
to make some mention of this at the beginning of the story. Who was the apprentice?
Not Blacksmith's son, as that would have put Ap.-Fada in close connection with the
blacksmith. Nor, of course, again an “elven” person. Or nothing is said about the choice of
the ap. May Ap.-Fada succeed, or else it should be someone important.
Who knows, Old Noques' son?
When Ferreiro returns home after handing over the star, should more be said than has
already been said about what became of him? In an earlier draft it is written that he could
return to Fairyland, as the star mark that remained on his forehead was still visible to the
people of Fairyland. But he couldn't go too deep, nor could he ever visit any new place or
see anything new that he hadn't seen before. (This, of course, has a meaning: there comes
a time, for writers and artists, when invention and “vision” cease, and they can only reflect
on what they have seen and learned.) However, this is not the point. crucial aspect of
history, which includes sacrifice and the transmission, confidently and without holding on to
things, of power and vision to the next generation. Another aspect is that visions of the
imagination are not enough, they are just images and suggestions.
When wisdom comes, the mind, although enriched by imagination, having learned or seen
from afar truths only perceptible in this way, needs to prepare to abandon the world of Men
and Fairyland.
In the scene at the forge, in which the son is obviously taking over his father's work in the
world of Men, although his hints about the "Fairy Land" never go beyond what he received
from his father at second hand - and as for his wife and the daughter? I feel like there
shouldn't be anyone in the house except the son and the father. But the wife cannot have
died — something about that would need to have been said before. Easier not to say
anything. It is better? But I think a banal, very “mortal” and domestic tone should be used,
making the adventures in Fairyland seem very remote, even absurd.
?The daughter should have married — perhaps to a man in another village. A
wife called unexpectedly to the birth of their first child, the

the blacksmith's first grandson.
What should be the message to the King? And what does it mean? You are expected. That
might sound like an order to go back. But the King's supremacy must be maintained. Otherwise it
must just be a message from a wife to an absent husband, which is not the sort of thing to be sent
by such a messenger. OR, if important and urgent, it must refer to the realm of Fairyland and its
government, and to matters beyond mortal concern. In any case, the Queen must have at least
known where to find the King, and could have sent a faster and better informed messenger. It's
time. This could be sensibly interpreted as a message that actually concerned the blacksmith. She
could tell the King, if he received her, that the Queen had seen and examined the blacksmith and
now judged that the time had come for him to give up the star. (An opinion that the King probably
already had, and possibly the Queen did not: he expected the result of the conversation with her,
perhaps, in addition to her opinion.) This message would be sent by the blacksmith himself,
because he was involved and was returning from immediately to the place where the King was.
The Queen said “if you find him”. She didn't know if the blacksmith would recognize him after all.
He didn't need to know that the King would arrange a meeting precisely within the limits of
Fairyland, where recognition was more likely. If the blacksmith had recognized him, there would
no longer be any doubt that “the time had come”.
It is intended to suggest that the blacksmith did not consciously recognize the King as such. He
had always had a vague idea that the “Apprentice” was a special person, and now he knew that
he, at least, also walked in Fairyland.
Now I vaguely perceived that he had some authority attached to the star—nothing more than that.
However, the King had induced him to abandon the star without using force or authority, as an act
of generosity.
It is likely that message delivery should be introduced earlier.

Then the wisdom of the King in plotting the surrender in that way would be shown, instead of
revealing himself. Like this:
After “[...] how to deal with the star”.
They said nothing more, and continued along the path together. They had passed the limits of
Fairyland and were approaching the village when suddenly the blacksmith
stopped.
“Master Cuca,” he said. –, something... — and then: — “the time has come”.
Continue: — I understand. Now go home in peace.

They continued walking until they finally reached the village hall, and in the world
the sun was setting and there was a red light in the windows; the golden carvings of
the great door glowed.[7] Cuca opened a small door at the back and led the blacksmith
along a dark corridor, into the warehouse.
He lit a long candle, unlocked a cupboard and took the black box down from the shelf.
Continue as in the version until “[...] in a clear sky, next to the Moon”.
Now write: Then he sighed deeply and went his way; but once again he looked
back and saw the Apprentice Cuca, tall, standing in the narrow door, watching him.
Both raised their hands in farewell.
Now, in the growing darkness, he walked quickly towards his home...
In any case, the message would hasten the King's departure. His mission was
accomplished — or would be when the star passed to another child. After the next
High Holiday, in three months—it was now the beginning of October, he would soon
be gone, leaving the apprentice in charge.
Question: Should the story end with the rather absurd episode of the Apprentice
talking to the fat and cocky Velho Noques? The original idea was that it was the king-
cook, who before leaving Noques was revealed to him, but this had no effect on him
and was attributed to a dream after an appetizing dinner. ?It could be the new
Apprentice, who was aware, from the king-cook, of the blacksmith's return of the star
to the box. (But that would eliminate the comical details of Star Party memories, which
are what really matter.)
?It should be said to whom the star was passed, I don't think so.
[This essay has been transcribed to be as faithful as possible to Tolkien's

typescript, in which he inserted secondary information in notes within the text,
writing them down as ideas occurred to him, often in the middle of a paragraph,
sometimes in the middle of a sentence. His method of marking the notes was to
type them in red, so that they stand out from the text, despite being fully inserted
into it. Here the notes are reproduced in the same position in which Tolkien
originally wrote them, but in gray and in a smaller size.]
This brief tale is not an “allegory,” although, of course, it is open to allegorical interpretations
at certain points. It is a “Fairy Tale”, the kind in which beings that might be called “fairies”
or “elves” play a role, are associated in action with people, and seen as having a “real”
existence, that is, an existence in its own right and independent of human imagination
and invention. It is set in an imaginary (but English) rural area, before the advent of
machinery as a driving force, but at a time when a prosperous community, mainly of
artisans, in an agricultural environment, could be aware and have the resources to import
luxury products like sugar and spices. It is suggested that this prosperity, based on the
diligent work and skill of the greater part of the community, had begun to have the effect
of making many of them vulgarly conceited and coarser.
Thus, it is clear that at the time of the story's opening the “festivals” celebrated mainly
involved eating and drinking; little thought was given to dancing, singing and telling
stories. There is no mention of musical instruments, except in the name Harpist (which,
as we will see, is significant). The Great Hall is no longer painted or decorated.
The geographic links between the Big Woods and Fairyland are inevitably, but also
intentionally, kept vague. In such stories there must be some means or means of access
to and from Fairyland, available at least to elves as well as privileged mortals. However, it
is also necessary that the Fairy Land and the World (of Men), despite being in contact,
occupy a different time and space, or occupy them in different ways. So, although it
appears that the Blacksmith may enter the
Fairyland relatively at will (being especially privileged), it is evident that it is a

land or world of unknown limits, which contains seas and mountains. It is also
clear that, even during a brief visit (such as an afternoon walk), he may spend
much more time in Fairyland than his absence counts for in the world. On your
long travels, an absence from home for, say, a week is enough to enable
explorations and experiences in Fairyland equivalent to months or even years.
As far as geography is concerned, Fairyland is located (or its entrances are)

to the west. “From Vila Fare-Leste à Floresta Poente” indicates the borders of
the world to the villagers: from the easternmost village of people of their kind to
the Forest, still uncultivated, immediately to the west. Thus, the Bosque villages
represent a previous intrusion of human settlements into the strange region of
the Forest; Bosque Pequeno is still a village in a clearing. The Forest is still
close to the west bank of Bosque Grande. The forge is at the end of its western
bank (if we want, because of the need for firewood as fuel). Either way, this
makes it easier for the Blacksmith to enter the Forest without being observed
by anyone other than those at home, or to go on “business” trips without his
movements being the subject of gossip.
In many Fairy Stories the idea is used that time passes quickly in Fairyland,
so that a man who finds his way there may leave after what seems like a brief
episode and discover that years, even centuries, have passed. They passed.
Except as a mere device to bring a man from the past into contact with a (for
him) future time - that is, in a story in which this is the real crux and Fairyland
as such is not seriously considered - I have always felt that this was a mistake:
an error of credibility, if a Fairyland of any kind is to be taken seriously. It is true
that the fact that apparent time in Fairyland is much longer than one realizes is
commonly reported about mortal interlopers in Fairyland. It is also true that in
some effective experiences the time they take may seem short and prove to be
much longer when contact with everyday matters is resumed. This occurs
mainly after absorption (driven mainly by a vivid interest and also, commonly,
by pleasure) in things such as reading, watching plays, participating in
entertainment or meetings with friends. I have often said that this idea must
have originated in taverns, as nowhere does time “fly” so quickly compared to
the daily experience of sitting, drinking and chatting with dear friends in a
tavern. I'm sure there's some truth to that. But there are other experiences.
Notably that of dreams,
in which one can discover that a long (or full) experience occupied a brief time
in the extramental world. Perhaps “narrative” is the only common measure.
What takes a long time to report properly is long. (I mean: to report, if we wish
or need to do so. A diary writer who writes on a certain day “nothing to report”
probably means “nothing that interests me” or “nothing of the kind I normally
record for future reference.”) ) “O minutes as long as years!” Perhaps the
dream is a better analogy for this purpose. However, you also need to consider
this: the Fairyland in this story is special. If we accept it while we are “in” the
story, then clearly the Sovereigns of Fairyland—who are presented as interested
in Men (not necessarily first and foremost) and beneficent—need to be able to
arrange that the experiences of privileged human people in Fairyland can be
lived without them abandoning their normal human life. Your time in Fairyland
needs to be different, even if it is contiguous at certain points. For them, human
time is also or can be longer than that of Fairyland. The King has lived in
Bosque Grande for fifty-eight years.
About the location. Entry into the “geographical” limits of Fairyland also
involves entry into Fairytime. How does a mortal “enter” the geographic realm
of Fairyland? Evidently not in a dream or illusion. Physical objects, such as the
star, the Living Flower and the elven toy, survive transplants from Fairyland to
the World. In fairy stories it is common for entry into the fadic world to be
presented as an underground journey, into a hill, mountain or something
similar. The origins of this don't matter to me here. They are found, to a large
extent, in the obituary imagination. However, as they are used, they often result
in mere “rationalizations” — such as reducing the size of the “elves” —, a way
of producing a land of prodigies in the same geography as that of Men . They
are neither more believable nor more interesting than the stories of Edgar Rice
Burroughs, which deal with a vast underground world. For me, they kill the
very kind of “literary belief” they aim to produce.
My symbol is not the underground, whether necrological and orphic, or

pseudoscientific in jargon, but the Forest: the regions still immune to human
activities, not yet dominated by them (dominated! not conquered!). If Fairy-
Time at some points is contiguous with ours, contiguity will also occur at related
points in space — or that is the theory for the purposes of the story. At certain
points on the edges of the Forest or just after crossing them, a person
Human beings can come across these contiguous points and penetrate there
into TF time and space. — if it is able or authorized to do so. In the relatively
brief time of history (or even several generations of Men in your suggested
“historical” background), these points will remain recognizable and capable of
being revisited by those who have encountered them before. Penetrating
deeply into Fairyland or reaching its distant reaches from such points represents
a passage increasingly distant from a familiar or anthropocentric world.
However, in this story the Forest and the Tree remain dominant symbols. They
occur in three of the Blacksmith's four “remembered” and recorded experiences
— before his farewell to the Queen. They don't happen at first because it is at
that point that he discovers that Fairyland is “unlimited” and mainly involves
vast regions and events that do not concern Men and are impenetrable by them.
The situation in the village of Bosque Grande is evidently of this kind. It was
governed, in local terms, by a council probably a group of the leaders of the
main and most prosperous “trades”. The trades were still traditional and largely
hereditary: passed from father to son or from women to their daughters. But
when there were no children or none available with sufficient aptitude, a
craftsman could take on an “apprentice,” and this usually meant inclusion in the
home and family. There were no proper surnames. The names Blacksmith,
Cooper, Miller, Artifice, Weaver, Weaver (for women), Bricklayer[8] and similar
names indicated that their owners actually practiced the trade or, in some
cases, trade, just as, in prosperous villages, salesmen of “imported” goods,
such as Fanqueiro or Especieiro or Grocer[9]. Children were given simple
names, placed after the name of their father's trade or sometimes, in the case
of girls, after their mother's, such as “Fanny da Tecelã”.
*
Noques is a deliberate exception. He has a “geographical” name (he
lives near the oak)[10]. It does not refer to any office. It seems that he
has “means”, that is, he probably owns some land outside the village,
and is descended from the peasant or agricultural people of the
surrounding region. In such a case, or in the case of jobs practiced by
several people or families, other definitions could be added, such as
“(of) Beiravila”, that is, living in the last house, at one or the other end
of the main street.
The names chosen are simple abbreviated names, presenting little

relationship with their original forms: Ned, Tim, Tom, Nell, Nan etc. This allows you
to use Alf for the elven apprentice. (This name was evidently given to him by the
Master Cook who took him.)
Cooking was an exception. Despite being a recognized and esteemed skill, it

was not practiced as a family job, nor, in general, as a way of making a living.
There was nothing that corresponded to restaurants. Foreigners on business could
obtain food and accommodation at the only Inn: there was, at that time, no other
name for it, but above the door one could still see a carved stone, much disfigured
by time, apparently bearing the representation of three trees and the inscription
Welco¯ to þe Wode[11]. But it was not used by the villagers. Domestic cooking was
practiced in the home, by women and men — mainly by women, unless they were
busy artisans. The Master Cuca, however, was a public servant, and an important
one.
It was paid for by public funds, as were the provisions for public banquets. His
position was not hereditary, but chosen, as far as possible, by taste and talent.
This and succession were usually due to the MC choosing an apprentice in time to
train him before retiring. Of course, the apprentice was usually a village boy. As a
rule, several applied for the apprenticeship, since the position was enviable and
brought with it the Casa do Cuca, adjacent to the Hall. However, the waiting time
before succession could be very long. The MC could retire at any time, after being
satisfied with the apprentice's achievements. But he was not obliged to retire and
was often reluctant to do so, despite being provided with a decent pension and a
comfortable cottage. When he retired, however, the Apprentice succeeded him
without discussion, except in very extraordinary circumstances.*
* Such a set of circumstances occurs in the story: the death or departure

of the MC before he had appointed an apprentice, or before A. was
considered trained or old enough for the responsibility. Grandpa Ginete's
behavior at the beginning of the story was totally exceptional and strange.
But it was possible for accidents to happen to an Apprentice. In fact,
Grandpa G. owed his position to one of these accidents (as well as to his
own versatile talents). The previous MC's A. (who was already old and
thinking about retirement) died due to a falling tree on a day of violent
storm, just before the Winter Banquet. Ginete offered help in the
emergency and
He soon proved to be so ingenious that a few years later the MC was able to
retire and hand over the position to him.
This “Grandpa Ginete”, who seems to have triggered the events of this story, was
evidently a remarkable and peculiar person. His name was Ginete, indicating that he was
neither a member nor practitioner of one of the main “crafts”. The Ginetes were interested
in horses and their livelihood came, in addition to training and treating horses, from acting
as the equivalent of the local courier and delivery service. They carried urgent messages
or letters and sometimes transported packages to other villages and rural properties,
especially distant ones, often returning with similar missions.
This part of his job especially suited Rob, his father's youngest son. He took a lot after his
mother, a Pied Piper from Bosque Pequeno, and was busy and adventurous. He started
making deliveries on horseback when he was just over fifteen. He soon became known
for the speed and accuracy with which he carried messages or carried out errands and for
his reluctance to return and report. Some time later, he stopped living in Bosque Grande
and only returned there at irregular intervals, as he saw fit. He became a “traveler”, a man
without a fixed home or support. During this period, despite the countless rumors that
were circulating, nothing was really known about his travels and adventures, until one day
he returned, apparently armed with money and certainly with a wife. She was a young and
beautiful woman called Rosa, a Singer from Vilamata, a distant village beyond Bosque
Pequeno. She was much younger than him, who at that point must have been at least
thirty-five years old.
Two years later their daughter Ella was born, but her mother died during childbirth.
Ginete, who had already seemed, to those who remembered him as a boy, to have
transformed into a silent and thoughtful man, then became sad and taciturn. He was rarely
seen outside during the day, but he was sometimes found walking alone by those who
were out very late or very early, before dawn. The following year was long remembered
as a bad year in Bosque, beginning with heavy snowfall and continuing violent and stormy
until the end. At the beginning of December, a strong wind caused a lot of damage in the
village and knocked down many old trees. The Mestre-Cuca's apprentice at the time was
practically the same age as Ginete, a man called Artifice, competent and appreciated,
who hoped to soon become Mestre-Cuca (which everyone also expected), since the old
Cuca intended to retire. shortly. Unfortunately Artifice was on his way home, leaving
of the Kitchen just at sunset, when a great gust caused an old ash tree standing
near his house topple over, and he was crushed and killed by the falling tree.
The village was covered in mourning and the old Mestre-Cuca was dismayed,
as the Winter Banquet was approaching and he did not have a competent
helper. The next day Ginete went to the Kitchen and gave the old man all the
help he could. Before nightfall everything was in better order than it had been
for years, and new plans for the arrangement of the Banquet were drawn up.
When preparing to go home, Ginete said:
—Another pair of hands is useful, Master. If mine are of any use during your
grief and difficulty, say so, and I will be by your side as long as you need me.
That's how Ginete became Cuca's employee. To his surprise and that of the
entire village (because, in any case, nothing was known about his wandering
life that could have given him the opportunity to learn the trade), Ginete not only
demonstrated a lot of knowledge, but also a great talent for learning faster. .
The Winter Banquet went well, and before the next one it was understood that
Ginete was accepted as a regular apprentice. When Cuca finally retired, about
six years after Artífice's death, there was no doubt about the succession, and
Ginete became Mestre-Cuca. He continued to be a taciturn man, with a slightly
sad face, but with quick movements. He was not sullen or hostile, but he clearly
took pleasure in pleasing and delighted in other people's joy, despite taking
little part in it. His head seemed to be somewhere else, if that was possible to
say about someone who took care of everything that was part of his duties so
promptly, and with such skill. The Banquet of the Twenty-Four that took place
four years after he became Master was remarkable; in fact, they said it was the
best thing that had been celebrated in the memory of those who lived. And the
happiest. For singing and dancing were reintroduced, after long neglect, as part
of the entertainment.
The rest of the story of Ginete's time as Mestre-Cuca is told in the short story.
When he turned 52 he still hadn't appointed an apprentice, which began to
cause concern. Not that he needed help anymore. Ginete was active and more
than capable. His daughter Ella was also an excellent cook and often helped
out at private family parties or in times of pressure during the Banquets. For all
the secondary tasks, such as washing, cleaning, preparing, serving and others,
Master Cuca could, of course, always find
lots of help. It was the matter of succession that troubled the Council. It was at this time that a
young man named Noques presented himself for admission. Ginete didn't like him, but,
because of the pressure to start training a successor, he gave him an opportunity. He knew a
little about cooking, but not nearly as much as he believed. He was difficult to teach, as he
was not a smart student and did not like being corrected. When he found something
complicated, he soon gave up, and then pretended to consider it unimportant.
— It's just nonsense — I liked to say —, it may please some, but it doesn't
there is great need for this.
Ginete did not appoint him as an apprentice. For some time he was called upon to help with
very hectic times, but soon Ginete completely despised him.
Undoubtedly, it was because of his experience with Noques (in part, there may have been
other reasons) that Ginete became so obstinate and resisted all pressure to find an apprentice
for many years. He didn't have one when he decided to unexpectedly go on vacation, despite
being 62 years old at the time and having been an MC for eighteen. He left in the spring,
immediately after his daughter's marriage to Ferreiro (full name: Joe Ferreiro de Beira Oeste*).
Therefore, the busiest time of the year was approaching, despite the great Spring Banquet
having passed. However, Ella was able to take on the kitchen work and had help from her
friends. He refused to discuss anything with Noques, whom he didn't like. (It was said that
Noques, “trying to find a side door to the Kitchen”, as the rumors said, had proposed marriage
a few years earlier.)
* It was called that because there were several Blacksmiths in the village, but Joe
was the son of the head of the trade, owner of the old Old Forge on the western
outskirts of the village. Joe was dedicated to his craft and to his father, who
dominated him greatly. He was her youngest son (of many) and her only son. It was
only after his father died that Joe thought (or was able to think) about marriage. He
was then 35 years old, and Ella, 25. Unlike his father, Joe's first child was a boy: the
Blacksmith (Son of the Blacksmith) of the story, followed by three daughters.
This is the “outside” story of Rob Ginete, before his return in winter from his “holiday year”,
bringing with him an apprentice of unknown origin. Ginete clearly liked this “boy” a lot. They
were close and confidant. Ginete evidently considered him a person of great abilities (despite
his young age) and believed that he would overcome all the difficulties caused by the departure.
sudden from the MC. It seems likely that Ginete left without warning, knowing,
or at least hoping, that his apprentice would be allowed to succeed him if the
Council were faced with a sudden vacancy without time to argue with him or
pressure him. It probably never occurred to him that it was possible for Noques
to meddle. What Alf the apprentice thought is another matter. Therefore, it is
necessary to examine as much of Alf and Ginete's past lives as possible.
There is almost no doubt that Ginete knew that Alf was an elf in disguise.
(The name Alf he gave him demonstrates this, although it was common enough
in the village to go unnoticed.) But it is also obvious that he was unaware of his
identity, despite supposing him to be an emissary and servant of the “Greats of
Fairyland.” , and must have known something of their purposes, since indeed
he himself was engaged in helping them.
Although all this remains vague in the story, the next “background” will serve
to explain the events. The western villages of the region, including Bosques
and Vilamata, were originally points of contact between Fairyland and that
country of Men. At an earlier period they were actually within the limits of the
Forest, as their names indicate. Bosque Pequeno was still surrounded by trees;
Vilamata was even deeper into the Forest. The people in these three villages
were descendants of closely related people and, at least in the case of Bosques,
marriage within the family was still frequent.
Vilamata, however, was then seen as a place where many people were strange
and old-fashioned, either because they were deeper in the Forest, or simply
because the village was further away, rarely visited except by horsemen and
“travelers” from Bosque Grande. (B. Grande's trade routes, so to speak, mostly
ran east.)
The Bosque crafts, on which their present prosperity was based, in the
beginning really owed their fame and commercial success to the special skill
and “artistic” quality which contact with Fairyland had given them. But
commercial success had started to take effect some time ago. The village had
become comfortable and self-satisfied. The artistic quality of their products was
declining, and to some extent so was traditional craftsmanship, although this
had not yet affected their market. However, the village did not realize the risk it
was running: a decrease in its prosperity, which would not be sustained forever
by the “good name” and the connections established with customers from the
east nor by simple effort and business acumen. If the bond between the
villagers and Fairyland were severed, the village would return to its original form.
miserable origins. In fact, all was not well in the village. Those who worked in
trades and exports were becoming richer and more important, dominating the
Council. Lower trades and professions, especially those whose function was
merely local, were in decline.
Many had stopped following their parents and became employees, serving
blacksmiths, craftsmen and weavers. People like Narradores (storytellers),
musicians: flutists, harpists, guitarists, fiddlers and horn players* and singers[12],
and also those with skills in drawing, painting and carving or forging beautiful
objects.
*Meaning “horn players”, not makers. These people also practiced the
craft of making musical instruments, which were once in some demand;
however, this small trade had fallen into decline.
The Dyers, due to their connection with the weaving trades (of great
importance), continued to prosper, but were (without realizing it) losing both
taste and skill.
The vulgarization of Bosque Grande is demonstrated by Noques. It is
obviously a somewhat extreme case, but it clearly represents an attitude that
was spreading rapidly throughout the village and had increasing weight.
Festivals are becoming, or have already become, mere occasions for eating and drinking.
Songs, stories, music and dance no longer play any role - at least they are not
funded (like cooking and food provision) with public funds, and, when they do
occur, it is only at family celebrations, and especially to amuse children . The
Hall is no longer decorated, although its structure is in good condition. History
and legend and, above all, any stories having to do with “faery”, came to be
considered children's stuff, condescendingly tolerated for the entertainment of
the very young.
Evidently the situation is such that it has aroused Fairyland's concern. Why? It
has been clearly demonstrated that Fairyland is, in itself, a vast world that does
not depend on Men for its existence and that does not engage primarily nor, in
fact, mainly with Men. Therefore, the relationship must be one of love: the Elven
People, the main and dominant inhabitants of Fairyland, after all have a kinship
with Men and a permanent love for them in general. Although no moral
obligation commits them to
helping Men and not needing their help (except in human matters), from time
to time they try to help them, to ward off evil from them and to have relations
with them, especially through the intermediary of certain men and women
whom they consider suitable.*
* Obviously it is possible that they have a “moral” obligation (the

sanctions of which we do not know). It may be contained in the word
“kinship” and may also be due to the fact that, ultimately, the enemy
(or enemies) of Fairyland is the same as that of Men. Certainly the
Elven world, as portrayed here, is not independent of the existence of
the Human world, unlike what happens with Men. The world which
Men know as their habitation existed and could exist without them, but
not Men without it. It is likely that the world of Fairyland cannot exist
without our world and is affected by its events—and that the reverse is
also true. The “health” of both is affected by the state of the other. Men
do not have the power to assist the Elven People in organizing and
defending their kingdom; but Elves have the power (as long as they
find internal cooperation) to help protect our world, especially in an
attempt to redirect Men when their evolution tends to distort or destroy
their world. Thus, it may be that Elves also have a deliberate self-
interest in human affairs.
They, the Elven People, are therefore “beneficial” towards Men and are not
entirely alien, although many things and creatures in Fairyland itself are strange
to Men, even downright hostile. Their goodwill is perceived above all when
they try to maintain or restore relationships between the two worlds, since the
Elves (and even some Men) realize that this love for the Fairy Land is essential
to full and adequate human evolution.
Love for Fairyland is love for love's sake: a relationship with all things, animate
and inanimate, that includes love and respect and dispels or modifies the spirit
of possession and domination. Without it, even simple “Utility” will in fact
become less useful; or it will turn into cruelty and lead only to mere power,
ultimately destructive.* Thus, the relationship of Apprentice in the story is
interesting. Men, in a large part of their activities, are or should be in the
condition of apprentices in relation to the Elven People.
* For this reason, the Elven People are reluctant to give any human
person possession of any device of their own that is endowed with the
Elven power that Men call by various names, such as magic .
Most Men will certainly misuse it, as a mere instrument for their own power
and success. And Men will tend to cling to it as a personal possession.
In an attempt to rescue Bigwood from its decline, the Elves reverse the situation,
and the King of Fairyland himself comes to serve as an apprentice in the village.
This was arranged through Ginete. On his youthful travels, Ginete was attracted
to the Forest. At some point, probably close to turning 18, he ventured into it and
by “accident” came across one of the “entrances” to Fairyland.*
* This was probably arranged or awaited by the Elves. They demonstrate

quite considerable knowledge of the people of the villages and their
marriages and heredity.
It is not revealed how they obtained it, but the events of the story show
that it would have been possible for disguised Elves to move around the
villages without being recognized — especially as “knights”, “travelers”
and itinerant workers. Thus, it is understandable that a Ginete would be
chosen for a special contact.
Many of young Rob Ginete's companions, in his first wanderings through
the region, may in fact have been Elves, through whose acquaintance
and dialogue he was guided in the desired directions and moods.
We know nothing of his adventures there. Evidently they occurred between the age
18 and 35 years old. It is likely that they were similar to those reported about the
Blacksmith, but they would not be the same. For example, it seems clear that he
has never seen either the King or the Queen, despite knowing of their existence
and being largely directed by their orders or requests. He probably encountered
serious dangers, and therefore these must have been the reason for his occasional
returns to Bosque Grande (to rest) and also for his increasingly silent and thoughtful
manner, which was particularly noted when, at the age of 35, he returned to
Bosque Grande with a wife and “settled down”.
The King saw that for his missionary plan he needed men who knew much
more about Fairyland than had been known for a long time, but that these
“explorers” would have to have some protection. He then invented the symbol or
insignia of the silver star, invented or revived it. His own insignia was a shining
star on his forehead. The symbol was a very small representation of her. Thus,
those who wore it were accredited (as if stamped with a crown and OHMS!) and
received the guidance and protection of all the Elven People, as servants or
favored of the King. But it remained the King's property and was not transferable
nor inheritable.*
Nor, of course, did it grant the user the right to act as he pleased or go
wherever he wished in Fairyland.
Evidently, this star was given to Ginete at some point during her later visits to
Fairyland. Not directly by the King (unless he was in disguise), but by a
messenger of his, so that from the beginning Ginete knew something about its
nature and purpose and realized the greatness of the favor - and that sooner or
later he would have to renounce it. It seems likely that Ginete gave up visiting
Fairyland when he fell in love with the beautiful Singing Rose of Vilamata and
married her.* He returned to Bosque Grande.
Heredity plays an important role in history. Thus, Ginete's mother was a

Pied Piper from Bosque Pequeno; his wife was from the Singers of
Vilamata, an even more “old-fashioned” village, where Elven traditions
(and contacts) were still maintained. Through his daughter Ella, these
trades were joined to the great trade of Blacksmithing.
However, tragedy overtook him with the death of his wife, and the following
year he returned to Fairyland many times, but in secret, although perhaps not
having gone beyond its borders. As an MC Apprentice, I would still have the
opportunity to make brief unnoticed visits. But when he turned 44 and became
MC, his visits almost certainly stopped. The Master Cook was watched too much
(and for nine or more months of the year he was quite busy) to be absent for a
long time. He could, of course, have given the excuse of visiting his wife's
relatives in Vilamata to go out sometimes, but there is no news of that. His
sadness and “his mind that seemed to be elsewhere” were undoubtedly due not
only to his grief but also to this deprivation. Suddenly he couldn't take it anymore
and went on his unexpected and unprecedented vacation. I didn't say where I was going. P
to Vilamata and there he entered Fairyland again, in the place where he had
done so for the first time. (It is also likely that this place had a connection to
Rosa. It is possible that she was also someone who visited the “Outer Fairyland”
and that he first encountered her in its confines.)
During this visit he evidently contacted the Elven People again. And the
Apprentice's plan was suggested to him. It seems likely that this occurred in a
similar way to that in which the King (as Alf) later approached the Blacksmith.
An Elf came across him as he was leaving Fairyland and, claiming the King's
authority, said that he should be taken back as a Rider's Apprentice, to which
he agreed. It is clear that during the trip back to Bosque Grande, and even
more so during the three years of close association with “Alf”, Ginete would
learn a lot about the King's project. He did not guess that Alf was the King, but
he accepted it. o as an Elf with the authority of the King. In particular, he treated
him as an equal or superior. At first he was certainly quite surprised, even
dismayed, when Alf insisted on appearing at Bosque Grande as a little boy.*
However, he explained it as being necessary.
* Since Ginete evidently did not intend to return to the position of MC,
of which he had grown tired, for longer than necessary to train his
apprentice, Alf's apparently extreme youth would probably cause
difficulties. The Council apparently had the right to interfere in the
apprentice's choice, and this included a reasonable expectation of succession.
Although the appointment of the MC was nominally made by the
Council, the latter, as a rule, did not interfere, although it had the right
to do so, especially in the absence of the MC (for example, if he died
in office or, as in this unprecedented case , leave the village). Ginete
had been fair and (he believed) political in praising Alf's general skill
and competence, but the Council, contrary to what he expected, was
now exercising its right, faced with what seemed to him the absurdity
of appointing to an important position a person who He appeared to be
a rather tall boy, but not much more than fifteen years old.
It was easier to pretend to be a “boy”. He also intended to make a very long

stay in Bosque Grande — including in his plans to prepare at least two Great
Cakes, which would be memorable, and leave behind the tradition of a long,
bright and joyful “reign,” as well as culinary excellence, along with the rumor
that this was due to beneficial intrusion from
Fairyland. Therefore, it was necessary to give him time to age in human fashion, at
least at a believable pace.
Alf himself must have been well aware that the situation and mood of the village
(which he had gone to heal) would, in effect, prevent his appointment when Ginete
left, and he was content to continue as an apprentice. Of course he would do that.
In such a situation, a new incoming MC could not fire the suitably appointed
apprentice even if he wanted to, at least until he had spent a few years in the
position, and even then he would have to have a solid charge of incompetence. It is
possible to assume that Noques' appointment was in fact part of Alf's plan and was
“arranged” by him — during those three years he had made “friends” in the village
and, without a doubt, found it easy to spread the opinion that they should give it a
chance. to Noques. This was, so to speak, a direct attack on Bosque Grande's core
of vulgarity and presumption, possibly with some (if not much) hope of transformation.
Noques, however, proved to be a character who was too vain and also too petty.
He was cunning and cunning enough to recognize Alf's usefulness to him, but his
courtesy only increased Noques' arrogant manners, while his services did not
produce gratitude, but rather antipathy. Noches, however, had a virtue, or the
remnant of one. It seems that he generally liked children, in his own way: a joking
and condescending way. But it allowed him to admit that Fairyland was at least
something that amused them, and he enjoyed the fun of the “lucky bits” in the Cake.
* It seems likely that the idea of the “Fairy Queen” on the Cake was in fact
Noques himself, despite him being too lazy to carry it out.
It will be noted that Alf realized Noques' idea, but mitigated it with skill and
beauty, in his own way. It even included the silly theory that “fairies” need
to have “magic wands”, one of Noques’ fixed ideas. It was, of course, an
insult to the Queen and yet a “glimpse” of Fairyland for the impressionable,
as the Queen later explains.
Alf made good use of this. He was as generous as Noques was stingy; and it seems
that he had a kind feeling (not just pity) towards Noques, probably based on his
kindness to children (according to his understanding), not just the only fun intended
for them that the story reports. His last dialogue with a very elderly Noques should
not be interpreted
as torment or malice towards a stupid and defeated opponent. It was an attempt (albeit a
desperate one) to reach an agreement before Alf left, and to get a pale glimpse into the old
man's head of what was happening. It is likely that he intended to finally give a clue that the
honor of the star would fall to a descendant of Noques himself. But Noques' exaggerated
rudeness — after all, Terra-Fada aside, he was talking to a man who had been an MC longer
than him — was too much to bear. Alf demonstrated pity and kindness in exchange for
confessing (even if only out of fear) that Noques was “just a poor old man,” and more subtly
arranging for his wounded pride to take refuge in the idea that it had been nothing more than
a dream.
There remain some questions. How did Alf come to be accepted?
Why was Ginete happier after returning from vacation? Where did you go
after your final match?
Alf was probably introduced in Bosque Grande, by Ginete, as “Alf de Vilamata”. His youth
justified his not having a professional name. The tradition that the people of Vilamata were
“relatives” was still in force, although it was now outdated and visited very rarely, and this
would fit the situation. A young man from one of the easternmost villages might cause
resentment, but one would also expect him to be more normal. It was known that Ginete's
wife came from Vilamata; and, no doubt, many assumed that Alf was one of their relatives.
Ginete was happier because he thought he had found a solution to his problem. He was
in touch with Fairyland during the dark year after his young wife's death; and offering himself
to the MC, and becoming MC in due course, was certainly a requirement of the King (through
emissaries). He did the best he could - which was very good - but he soon became very
tired of the position and its publicity and the restriction on his movements. After eighteen
years, I couldn't stand it anymore without taking a break. However, the “apprentice project”
gave him hope of leaving his post without actually harming the village, while also furthering
the King's purposes. He was also renewed by his visit to Fairyland.
He remained in office for the minimum amount of time and then left — undoubtedly, back
to Vilamata. He certainly thought it likely that he would meet Alf again, and before too much
time passed, as he himself was already 65 years old. He must have expected this meeting
to take place within the confines of Fairyland. Rider
he was now “starry-eyed”, but he had probably planned a visit at least to the
Outer Fairyland. His daughter was already happily married and busy, and he
felt free. He returned to Vilamata, from where he could enter Fairyland through
the “entrance” with which he had long been familiar, but to live and end his
days with his wife's family. It should be noted that the blacksmith, when he was
“unstarred”, never intended to revisit Fairyland.
Without a doubt, he could have done so if he had wanted to. However, he could
not have penetrated deeply into the realm again. Evidently, his experiences
had been much more dangerous and grandiose than Ginete's, and he could no
longer be content with the “Outer Fairyland”. He needed to refrain from or be
tempted to take trips for which he no longer had “license” or protection. And he
wasn't free. I had to think about the family. Especially the son. He still had ten
or even fifteen good years of work ahead of him, and he needed to establish
his son in the trade as fully as possible before retiring. The son was already 24
years old and had not yet married. While Nell and her daughter Nan were
probably also friends with the Elves and even roamed the Outer Fairyland, Ned
depended on his father: he could receive the “Fairyland” only through the
knowledge and company of the older Blacksmith. Thus he was just one of the
normal, practical and simple men and workers whose enlightenment and
strengthening constituted one of the objectives of the King's plan.
There is no need to look for allegory. All the teachings contained in this short
story are implicit, and would be no less present if it were a simple narrative of
historical events. Note, however (as often happens in my stories), that there is
no religion. There is no church or temple.
Among the professions there is no parish priest or priest. The closest thing
there is are festivals. Judging by the only one mentioned by name, the Winter
Feast at the solstice, they must have been seasonal, associated with Spring,
Summer Solstice, the Harvest, and the like. In origin, such festivals are not
separable from “religion”, but in Bosque Grande, at the time of history, they
evidently no longer have any religious reference: no more than our surviving
Quarter Days[13]. (In no ceremony is any power or powers propitiated,
supplicated, or thanked.) In a story written by a religious man, this is a clear
indication that religion is not absent, but rather subsumed: the story is not about
religion, nor particularly about its relation to other things. Therefore, it does not
appear as such. Otherwise, a brief essay on its meaning would have been
better than a short story.
Evidently, the Great Hall is, in a way, an “allegory” of the village church; the
Mestre-Cuca, who lives in the house next to the church and whose position is not
hereditary, who is responsible for his own instruction and succession, but who does
not exercise one of the “secular” or profitable offices — and is still supported
financially for the village –, clearly represents the Parish Priest and the priesthood.
“Cooking” is a domestic affair practiced by men and women: personal religion and
prayer. The Mestre-Cuca presides over and provides for all religious festivals of
the year, and also all religious occasions that are not universal: births, weddings
and deaths. The Great Hall, however, is no longer painted or decorated. The
ancient carvings, whether grotesque like gargoyles or beautiful and of religious
significance, are only preserved by mere custom. The Hall is kept rain-proof,
weather-proof, and warm: that is the first object of any work spent in it. Festivals
are mere public gatherings to talk over food and drink: there are no more songs,
music or dances. The church was “reformed”. The memory of “happier” days
survives, but the majority of the village would not approve of any resumption of
them. The fact that an MC sings is considered at odds with his
office.
Zeal and sober hard work are most commendable, but the profit motive for such
perseverance is becoming predominant. The less commercially profitable an
occupation is, the less esteemed it is. (It is felt that, although there is still no sign
of this, the time is not far off when the position of MC will be abolished. The Hall
will become a mere place of business, owned by the Crafts Council, capable of
being rented to large family events for those who can afford this luxury. If Cucas
survive, they will become merchants, opening eating houses and cafeterias
adapted to the different tastes of customers.)
BUT Fairyland is not religious. It is quite clear that it is neither Heaven nor
Paradise. Certainly its inhabitants, the Elves, are neither angels nor emissaries of
God (direct). The story is not about religion itself. The Elves are not involved with a
project to reawaken religious devotion in Bosque Grande. The allegory of Cooking
would not be suitable for such a meaning.
Fairyland represents at the very least an escape (at least mental) from the iron
circle of that which is familiar and, even more so, from the inflexible circle of belief
that is known, possessed, controlled, and therefore (ultimately) all that is familiar.
worth considering — a constant awareness of a world beyond these circles. More
profoundly, it represents love: that is, a love and a
respect for all things, “inanimate” and “animate”, a non-possessive love towards
them as “different” things. This “love” will produce both compassion and delight.
Things that are seen in its light will be respected and will also appear delightful,
beautiful, wonderful, even glorious. In fact, it can be said that Terra-Fada
represents Imagination (without definition, since it encompasses all definitions of
this word): aesthetics; exploratory and receptive; and artistic; inventive, dynamic,
(sub) creative. This complex — of awareness of an unlimited world outside our
home parish; of a love (in compassion and admiration) for the things that are in
him; and from a desire for wonder and wonder, both perceived and conceived,
this “Fairy Land” is as necessary to the health and full functioning of the Human –,
as sunlight is to physical life: sunlight seen as distinct from the ground, let's say,
despite actually permeating and modifying even him.
[Draft and hybrid

transcription of “The Big Cake”]
Once upon a time there was a village, not long ago for those with long
memories, not very far away for those with long legs. It was large and there
lived a reasonable number of people, good, bad and mixed, as is normal, and
some were a little elven, as was still common at that time, despite the people
of that land not having a good reputation. It was an unremarkable village except
for one thing. It had a large kitchen, and the Master Cook was an important
person; because the Kitchen House was part of the Village Hall: the largest
and oldest building in the place and the only one that was truly beautiful. There
once a week the villagers ate a meal together, and most of them went regularly,
except for the very old, or the very young, or anyone who was sick. There were
also several festivals during the year, for which Cuca needed to prepare special
banquets.
There was a festival that everyone awaited eagerly, even the very old, as it
was the only one in winter. It lasted several days, and on the last day, at sunset,
there was an entertainment for children called Festa, and only part of the
village's children participated in it (by invitation). There were never more than
twenty-four invitations, and it was an honor to receive one of them. I dare say
that some who deserved it were left out, and some who did not deserve it were
invited by mistake, for that is the way it is, no matter how cautious those who
organize such affairs may try to be. In any case, it was pure luck (as we say) to
participate in a Great Festival, since it was only celebrated every twenty-four
years, and Cuca was expected to do his best for the occasion. Among many
other delightful things which the children especially liked (in his opinion), he
used to provide a Big Cake; and for the success of this
his name was remembered later, as the Master Chefs rarely lived long enough to make
more than one Big Cake.
There came a time, however, when the reigning Mestre-Cuca, to everyone's surprise,
as this had never happened, said he wanted a vacation; and he went away, no one
knew where; and when he returned a few months later, he seemed somewhat changed.
His cuisine, in any case, had changed for the better, despite some of his dishes and
sweets being new; and, because they were strange, they were not to everyone's taste.
Before he was a very serious man, who spoke very little, but now he often made jokes,
saying and doing quite ridiculous things, and, at banquets, he insisted on singing songs,
which was not expected from Master Cooks.
He also brought with him an Apprentice; and that was amazing.
It was no surprise that a Master Cook had an apprentice. It was normal. The Master
Chef would choose one, very often one of his own children, and teach him everything
he could; and as they both grew older, no doubt the apprentice did most of the work, so
that when the Master died or retired, there he was, ready to take over and become
Master Cook. However, this Master had no son and had never chosen an Apprentice. I
had always said “I still have a lot of time” or “I have my eyes open and I will choose one
when I find one that suits me”. Now, however, he had a simple boy with him, and he
was not from the village. He was thinner than the boys from Bosque, and faster, soft-
spoken and very polite, but ridiculously young for the job, practically a teenager, it
seemed. Still, choosing an apprentice was the Master Cook's business, and no one had
the right to interfere with him; therefore the boy was left alone, and soon people became
accustomed to seeing him there, and he made some friends. Most people called him
Novato, but Cuca called him Alf.
The next surprise came just three years later. One spring morning, the Master Cook
took off his tall white hat, folded his clean aprons, hung up his white dolman, picked up
a solid ash staff and a small
bag
and said goodbye to Novato. There was no one else around.
— Goodbye for now, Alf — he said goodbye. — I leave you to manage things as best you
can. I hope things go well. If we meet again, I hope to hear all about it. Tell them I went on
vacation again, a long vacation, I hope, but when it's over I won't come back.
There was great commotion in the village when Novato gave this message to the people
who came to the Casa de Cozinha.
— What an attitude [without warning or goodbye]! — they commented. — And what will
we do without Mestre-Cuca? He left no one to take his place.
Because in all their conversations and discussions no one ever thought of making the
young Novato a Cuca. He had grown a little in stature, but still looked like a boy, and he had
only worked for three years. Finally, for lack of anyone better, they appointed a man from
the village, who knew how to make simple food very well, despite not being a great pastry
chef. [As a young man, he had helped the Master at one time or another, but the Master
had not become attached to him and had never made him his apprentice.] He was a serious
type of man, with a wife and children, and careful with money.
— At least he won’t leave without warning — they said — and even cooking
mediocre is better than nothing.
Some added:
— There are seven years until the next Big Cake; Until then he can improve a lot.
Noques, as that was his name, was very happy with the way things turned out. For a
while, he used to wear his tall white hat when he was alone in the kitchen, look at a polished
frying pan and say:
- Good morning Master! This hat fits him very well, it makes him look very tall.
I hope everything goes well for you.
Everything went very well, as Noques did his best and had the Apprentice to help him
and, in fact, to teach him, but he never admitted this.
However, in due time, the time of the Great Feast approached, and Noques needed to think
about how to make the Great Cake. Secretly I was worried because, despite being able,
with seven years of practice, to produce
[The next two pages disappeared, and the narrative restarts in the
middle of a sentence, at the top of page 6, with an observation from Cuca.]
—Very pretty, a fairy thing — he said, although he had no idea what that meant, as his plan
was to stick a little doll on top, dressed in tufts of cotton, holding a magic wand ending in a
tinsel star. However, before getting to work, having only a vague memory of what should go
into a “party cake”, he consulted some old recipe books left behind by previous chefs. He was
perplexed, because they mentioned many things that he had never heard of or had forgotten
and didn't know where to find.
Some of them he considered quite unsuitable, as they were neither sweet nor very soft.
However, he thought about trying some of the spices the books talked about. He scratched
his head and remembered an old black box, with several compartments, in which the previous
cook used to store spices, as well as other things for special cakes. It was on a high shelf and
he hadn't opened it for a long time.
When he opened it, he discovered that there were very few spices left, and what was left
was somewhat dry and moldy. However, in one of the compartments, he found a blackened
ring, as if it were made of silver and tarnished.
- That's weird! — he said, holding it up to the light.
- No, it is not! — said a voice that made him jump: it was the voice of his apprentice, who
had come in behind him, and he had never dared to speak without being spoken to. He was
just a little boy; smart and quick, “but he still has a lot to learn” (the cuca thought).
Then:
—What do you mean, boy? — asked the cuca, uncomfortable. — If it isn't

strange, so what?
— It's a magic ring — said the apprentice.
The cuca then laughed and said:
— Right, right. — Call him whatever you want! One day you will grow up. Now
You can continue pitting the raisins. If you notice any magic, let me know.
— What are you going to do with the ring? — asked the apprentice.
— Put it on the cake, of course — replied the cuca. — Of course you yourself
I've been to children's parties,
and it wasn't that long ago, and little odds and ends like that were added to the mix, plus
little silver coins and things like that. This entertains the children.
—But, Cuca, this isn't small stuff, it's a magic ring — observed the apprentice.
— You already said that — said Cuca, irritated. —Very well, I'll tell the
children. It will make them laugh.
The cake was made on time, covered and decorated according to Cuca's imagination.
At the party, it was placed in the middle of the tea table, inside a circle of 24 red candles.
The children looked at him with wide eyes, and some said:
— Isn't it beautiful, fairy thing?! — which pleased Cuca, but not the apprentice. (Both
were there, the chef to share the cake when the time came and the apprentice to give him
the knife he had sharpened.)
Finally, Cuca took the knife, took a step towards the table and said:
— I need to tell you, dear ones, that beneath that beautiful frosting there is a cake made
of many things that are good to eat. But there are also, well mixed in there, various pretty
things, odds and ends and coins and so on, and they say it's good luck to find one of them
in your slice. And tonight there is also a ring, a magic ring (that's what my boy says here).
So be careful. If they break one of his beautiful front teeth with him, the magic ring won't fix
it. You won't, will you, my boy? — he said, turning to the apprentice. The boy, however, did
not respond.
It was a pretty good cake, and when it was all divided, there was a big slice for each
child and there was nothing left. The slices soon disappeared, and from time to time an
offal or a coin was discovered. Some found one, others found two, and many found nothing,
because that's how luck works. But, when the cake had been eaten whole, there was no
sign of any magic ring.
— Well, look! — said Cuca. — It must have been magical. Unless, after all, it wasn't
made of silver and melted, which is most likely. — He looked at the apprentice with a smile.
The apprentice looked at him and didn't smile.
However, the ring was magical (the apprentice was the kind of person who
who[14] was not mistaken about this kind of thing); and what happened was that
one of the little boys swallowed it without realizing it. And he didn't realize it for a
long time after, until the Cake and the Party were almost forgotten by the other
children who participated in it. But the ring stayed with the boy, hidden somewhere
where he couldn't feel it (because it was made to do so), until his day came.
The party had been in winter, but now it was the beginning of summer, and at
night it was barely dark. The boy got up before dawn, as he did not want to sleep.
He looked out the window, and the world seemed quiet and hopeful. Then dawn
came, and far away he heard the dawn song of the birds begin, and it drew
nearer, until it rushed over him, filling all the land around his house, and
proceeded westward like a wave. of music; and the sun rose over the trees.
— This reminds me of Fairyland — he thought — but in Fairyland people also

sing. — And he started singing using strange words. At that moment, the ring fell
from his mouth and he picked it up. Now it was bright silver, sparkling in the sun.
He placed it on the index finger of his right hand, it fit, and he wore it for many
years. Few people noticed the ring, although it was not invisible; however, very
few could avoid noticing his eyes and his voice. The eyes contained a light; and
the voice, which had begun to become beautiful as soon as the ring came to him,
[Here the typewritten text stops in the middle of the page. The story
continues in elaborate handwritten calligraphy, on a small lined notebook
or notepad paper, marked by hand, in the upper right corner, with “a” to
“h”.]
it became even more beautiful as he grew. He became well known in the

neighborhood for his great ability. His father was a blacksmith, and he followed
his trade and perfected it. He made many useful things—instruments and
frying pans, bars and bolts, hinges and horseshoes,and things like that—and
they were perfect and strong, and they also exhibited a certain grace, for they
were extremely well proportioned; and some objects he made for pleasure,
which were beautiful, since he knew how to work iron into wonderful shapes
and designs, which seemed as light and delicate as a bouquet of leaves and
flowers, but retained the inflexible resistance of iron or seemed stronger yet.
Few could pass one of its gates or railings without stopping to admire it; no
one could cross it once it was closed. He used to sing while he worked. And
that was all most people knew about him—in fact, it was enough, and more
than most men could reach. However, he also became familiar with
Fairyland and knew some parts of it well—as well as any mortal can, though,
with the exception of his wife and children, few suspected . But he was welcome
in Fairyland and was rarely in danger there, as evil things avoided the star. One
day, however, he was walking through a forest in Fairyland. It was autumn, and
there were red leaves on the branches and on the ground. There were footsteps
coming from behind, but he was thinking about the leaves and didn't turn around.
A man caught up with him and suddenly said at his side:
— Are you going my way, Gilthir? — that was its name (Starry Front) in
Fairyland; At home he was called Alfred Filho do Ferreiro.
—What is your path? - He asked.
— I'm going home — replied the man, and Alfred looked at him and saw that he
was the Apprentice: he was now a tall man, but a little stooped, and he had
wrinkles on his forehead and face, despite being only a little older. than Alfred.
“Me too,” he said. — Let's walk together.
They walked side by side for many miles, in silence, broken only by
by the rustle of red leaves
at your feet. But at last, before they left Fairyland, the Apprentice stopped and, turning to
Alfred, touched his star.
— Don't you think it's time to abandon this object? - He asked.
- Why would I do that? Isn't she mine? It came in my slice of cake.
- Why? Because we shouldn't hold on to such gifts for too long. They cannot belong to us
forever. And because now it's time for someone else to have their turn. Someone needs her.
—So what should I do? Give it to one of the Great Ones of Fairyland? To the King, who
knows?
"You could give it to me," said the Apprentice, "but perhaps you would think that would be
too difficult." Will you come with me to where I work and return it to the box where your
grandfather kept it?
"I didn't know that," said Alfred.
— Well, he was your mother's father, and he left before his time had come, and it was
Cuca before Cuca who made the cake for his party: the best they could find to follow his
grandfather, who had no son, and his daughter was a seamstress. But now I'm Cuca.
Someday soon I'm going to make another big party cake, and I think the star should go inside
it.
[addition in irregular font at the top of the page:
and the Apprentice took the box from its shelf in the storeroom. He
showed it to Alfred. Maybe it was the spices, which were fresh and spicy,
but her eyes watered.
“I can't see very clearly,” he said. — You need to save it for me. — Then
he gave it to the Apprentice, and the star fell in its place and went out.]
“Very well,” said Alfred. — Do you know who will find her? I would like to
to know. That would make it easier to separate from her.
— I may guess — said the Apprentice — but it’s not Cuca who
choose. [The star, or those who made it, does this, I think.]
Then they returned to the village together, and Alfred put the star in the box.
This one was clean now and well stuffed. Only a small compartment was empty,
and the star fell into it and went out.
Alfred had felt a pang when he took it off his forehead, and now he felt
distressed when he let it fall from his hand, as he believed he was giving up the
power to re-enter Fairyland. But he discovered that this was not the case. All the
people and creatures of Fairyland could still see the star mark on his forehead,
and its light remained in his eyes. However, after that, he never saw new things
in Fairyland again, nor did he reach regions he had not visited before.
Now, it's (perhaps) strange, but old Cuca, who made fun of the Apprentice, had
never been able to get that cake or the star out of his head, despite having
continued as Cuca for many years. He was now a very old man and no longer
cooked. He was very fat, as he continued to eat voraciously and liked sugar. He
spent most of his time sitting in a large chair by his window or by his door if the
weather was good. He liked to talk, as he had many opinions to share or offer, and
he was always happy when someone stopped to talk to him (or listen to him).
The Apprentice often did this—old Cuca still called him that, and he himself
expected to be called Master. The Apprentice never stopped doing it, and it was a
big point in his favor, although there were others that old Cuca appreciated more.
One afternoon, he was dozing in his chair after dinner when he saw the
Apprentice standing nearby, looking down on him.
— Good afternoon — said the old man. — I'm glad to see you, because there's
one thing I can't get out of my head, waking or sleeping, that you'll be able to
remember. I still wonder about that little star. Yes, it's the one that years ago I put
in the best cake I've ever made (and that's no small feat). But
Have you forgotten about him?
— No, master, I remember him very well. But what ails you? It was a good cake,
and was praised and appreciated.
- It is clear. I did it. But that doesn't bother me. It's the star. I can't imagine what
became of her. I said it must have melted, but that was just to keep the children from
being scared. Of course it wouldn't melt. Then I thought that someone must have
swallowed it. But will it be possible? You can swallow a coin and not notice it, but
not that star. It was small, but it had sharp edges.
—But you don't know what it was made of, master! Don't worry. Someone
swallowed it, I assure you. Can't guess who it was?
— Well, I have a long memory, and that day is engraved in it, and I can remember
the names of all the children. Let me think! Was it Molly Moleiro?
She was greedy and devoured the food, now she is as fat as a barrel.
— Yes, some people are like that, Master — said the Apprentice, looking at
Cuca's vest. —But it wasn't Molly. She found a threepence coin in her slice.
- It found! Harry Cooper, then? It had a mouth as big as a frog's and its cheeks were
full.
- Oh no! He wouldn't swallow a raisin seed. I left one or two inside and hoped he would
find them. He took them out of his mouth with his finger.
— So that little girl... Lily Longo? I used to swallow pins when

baby, and they didn't hurt him.
- Oh no! She only ate the marzipan and sugar and gave the stuffing to Molly
Miller, sitting next to him.
— Then I give up. Who was? [It seems like you were observing a lot
carefully or inventing everything.]
— Alfred Son of the Blacksmith, of course, Master — replied the Apprentice.
— Now, go! — laughed old Cuca. — I should have known you were playing a game
with me and making everything up. Do not be ridiculous! Alfred Filho do Ferreiro is a
simple and hard-working man today, just as he was a quiet and sensible boy back then.
Cautious, we might say. I thought before I spoke. He looked around before jumping. He
didn't let anything go down that would hurt him. I chewed before swallowing, and still do,
if you know what I mean.
— I understand, Master. Very well then. You can think however you want. But now the
star returned to the box. Come see.
— You know I can't. I can't even scroll there. But seeing is believing.
“Then I'll bring the box,” said the Apprentice.

And he went to look for her. He opened it under old Cuca's nose. — There is the star,
Master. Downstairs, in the corner.
Old Cuca was sneezing and coughing, as some of the spices had gone up his nose.
But when he wiped his eyes, which were running, he looked at the box.
— It is! — he exclaimed. — if my eyes aren't playing tricks on me with so many tears.
—No pieces, Master. I put the star there with my own hand, doesn't it?
not even a week. She could come back for a cake, I believe.
— Ha-ha! — said old Cuca with a cunning look, then laughed until he shook like jelly.
— So that's how it was, and I never realized it. You were always a smart boy, even
though you had strange ideas or invented them to provoke me. But economical, that's
what you've always been. He didn't waste a raisin or a bit of butter. So you pinched that
little star out of the mixture while stirring [and kept it safe]. Well, case closed. Who
knows, maybe now I'll take a carefree nap. But thank you very much for coming.
— Take your nap, Master — said the Apprentice and wished him good morning. But
he turned around before leaving. — Still — he said, without any Master — when he
wakes up he will be able to think again, if he doesn't get too fat and sleepy.
Drafts and transcriptions

of “Lake of Tears”
But when he tried to walk closer to the woods He never

saw that Tree again, though he often looked for it, and not long after he came to
the Lake of Tears in the middle was
the Isle of Wildwind enveloped him again and when he let go
he discovered that he was near the
Ends of Fairyland walking towards [?] the direction of his own land.
Then for some time he tried to find the Tree again but he never saw it again. On
one of his walks [?] he arrived at L. das Lágrimas, where in the middle of which was
the Island of VS, but he did not know their names.
The lake lay calm and still, calm and smooth, and the island seemed close: The
white birch trees that grew on it were shining white, and were reflected in the lake,
which lay calm and still like a mirror. He tasted the
water and it was cool and sweet, so he waded and swam to the island: and For a
long time it seemed to come
no closer, and when he finally
reached the shore he was exhausted. He discovered that it was a large island, and
when walking in the Forest he saw that all the trees were beautiful/young
and with full foliage their leaves trembled in the sunlight. However there was no
movement in the air. Suddenly
heard well
far away
and the sun darkened.
One day he arrived at a lake that he had heard called Lake of Tears, although he
didn't know why it was called. He tasted the water and it was bitter, and his heart
was saddened as he walked in the forest on the slopes above the lake, although all
the trees there were young and beautiful and with full foliage, and the sun was shining.
Then he heard the Wind coming from far away, roaring like a wild beast; and he the
Wind burst into the forest, uprooting everything that had no roots and pushing before
him everything that could not resist him. With his arms he wrapped his arms around
the trunk of a white birch and clung to it, and the Wind fought fiercely with him,
dragging his arms away; but the birch bent to the ground with the blast, and its
branches enveloped him in their boughs.
Finally the sun shone again, and he saw all the leaves of the forest whirling like
flying clouds in the sky, flying before the Wind that carried them away, but all the
trees were bare. Every tree was bare.
Then all the trees wept, and tears ran from their branches and shoots like gray rain
and some gathered into trickles of water that flowed into the lake below.
— Blessed be the birch! — he said, placing his hands affectionately on its white
shell. — What can I do to show my gratitude? — and felt the response of the tree
climbing through her hand and her arm, and she said:
- Anything. But if you see the King, tell him. When he returns he will calm the
Wind and we will But get out of here! I believe The Wild Wind is after you. If you see
the King, tell him. Only he can calm the Wind after it has been provoked
[manuscript] Then he heard a sigh [manuscript] Hears the Wind [?] and
can't see any stars
Grades
Alf
Derived from the Old English ælf, Old Norse alfr, and related to the Modern English
elf, Alf has in all these languages the meaning of “elf,” a supernatural (but not divine)
being who was believed to influence human affairs. Elves were part of the popular beliefs
of Northern Europe, of the “inferior” mythology, as opposed to the “superior” one, of the
gods. In Anglo-Saxon times, the word was used in personal names, as part of compounds
such as Ælfwine (“Friend of the Elves”), Ælfbeorht (“Bright as an Elf”), Ælfred (“Elf
Council”), names that reached the modern English such as Alwyn/Elwin, Albert and
Alfred.
Ferreiro ’s first draft called the hero “Alfred Filho do Ferreiro[15]”. Strictly speaking, a
more suitable name for the Blacksmith would have been Ælfwine, “Friend of the Elves”,
while Ælfred, “Elf Counsel”, would have better suited the King, who advises the
Blacksmith to hand over the star.
“the tall white hat”

In a letter written to Roger Lancelyn Green in December 1967, Tolkien noted: “[...] But
behold there appears [in history] Merton [his College at Oxford].
Our present admirable little chef (with a tall hat) is, pictorially at least, the original
Alf” (Letters, no. 299).
“It’s fadic”
Fay, “magical, possessing magical powers.”

Afterword
“About fairy tales”
“On Fairy Tales” was first presented in 1939 as the Andrew Lang Lecture at
the University of St. Andrews, Scotland. The text was expanded for inclusion in
the memorial volume Essays Presented to Charles Williams , a collection
intended as a festschrift[16] for Williams and published by CS Lewis after his
premature death. Along with the short story Folha, by Migalha, “About fairy
tales” was published in 1964 as part of Tree and Leaf. The entire volume was
later reprinted as a separate section of The Tolkien Reader in 1966. It is included
in The Monsters and the Critics and Other Essays, edited by Christopher Tolkien
and published in 1983.
Tolkien was quite concerned with establishing the true meaning of the term
fairy. In a footnote in “On Fairy Tales” (The Monsters and the Critics, p. 111[17])
he refers to daoine-sithe (Old Irish), tylwyth teg (Welsh) and huldu-fólk
(Germanic). . Sídhe is Irish, Scottish Gaelic and Manquise for a fairy hill, the
dwelling of the fadic people, and by extension the Otherworld or the Hells. The
equivalent Welsh term is Annwfn, often translated as “hells”. The fairies
themselves are called in Irish daoine sídhe, “people of the hill”, and in Welsh y
tylwyth teg, “the beautiful people”.
A strong belief that non-human beings with supernatural powers are present
in the human world could be found throughout the British and Irish countryside
in the 19th and early 20th centuries. The investigation of such beliefs and the
collection of the stories, proverbs, and folk customs (such as leaving a pot of
milk on the doorstep before going to bed) that expressed them were the focus
of the newly developing discipline of folk studies.
Clyde Kilby
In 1964, Tolkien was contacted by professor Clyde Kilby, from Wheaton
College, in Illinois, United States. After that, the two corresponded from time to
time. Wheaton was then organizing the collection of
manuscripts and defining the place dedicated to research on the works of CS

Lewis, JRR Tolkien, Charles Williams, Owen Barfield, Dorothy L. Sayers, George
MacDonald and GK Chesterton, which became the Wade Center. In November
1967, shortly after the publication of Blacksmith of Bigwood, Kilby asked Tolkien
about the possibility of purchasing manuscripts of the story.
In response, Tolkien sent Kilby, in the United States, a description of the drafts
and provisional manuscripts, including his recollection of how the story came to
be. To Kilby's disappointment, Wheaton College was unable to meet the price,
and the manuscripts ended up in the Tolkien Collection of the Western Manuscripts
Department of the Bodleian Library[18] in Oxford.
“The Big Cake”
The original title was derived from the cake idea introduced at the end of
Tolkien's abortive presentation of The Golden Key. The change in Ferreiro de
Bosque Grande 's final drafts signaled Tolkien's shift in focus from the cake to the
boy; also a shift from allegory (in which a sweet symbolizes a concept) to the fairy
story (of how an ordinary man ventures into fairyland and what he finds there). In
a less obvious way, it made reference to stories and authors external to the story.
In a letter to his grandson Michael George, Tolkien wrote that the title featuring
Smith [Blacksmith] was intended “to suggest a premature Woodhouse [Wodehouse]
or story in the B[oys'] O[wn] P[aper]” (Letters, no. 290). Four novels from PG
Wodehouse's early career tell the comic misadventure of their hero
Rupert Smith (he spells it “Psmith”), who begins as a schoolboy in Psmith in the
City (1910) and transforms into an archetypal Wodehouse hero during the course
of Psmith Journalist (1915), Leave it to Psmith (1923) and Mike and Psmith (1935).
The Boy's Own Paper , whose readership is self-explanatory, was a weekly

periodical of eight or ten pages. It was published by the Religious Tract Society
and had a remarkably long life, being published continuously from 1879 to 1967.
The issues featured science, natural history, riddles, school stories and adventures,
brief biographies of “Men of Whom speaks” (such as Thomas Edison and Charles
Darwin) and also short stories and serial novels by authors
popular characters such as Jules Verne, Algernon Blackwood, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and G.
A. Henty.
Tolkien's title, an ironic homage to these two stalwarts of British fiction, was
almost certainly not intended to be taken seriously in the context of the story.
“more slippery than glass”

Slidder, an archaic adjective now obsolete, means “slippery, easily slipped”.
It comes from the Old English slider, from slÿdan, “to slide”. The first recorded
use of the word dates from the 13th or early 9th century, in the Anglo-Saxon
Runic Poem n. 29: “Is byþ offereald un3emetum slider” [“The ice is exceedingly
cold, immeasurably slippery”]. A closer parallel to Tolkien's use of the word
occurs in the Middle English text Handling Synne by Robert Mannynge of
Brunne, c. 1303, which describes a brygge [bridge] “as sledyr as any glas” [“as
slippery as glass”].
“Version that was read in BlackFriars”

This event, sponsored jointly by the prior of Blackfriars, Father Bede Bailey,
and the warden (principal, not master, as Tolkien erroneously writes) of Pusey
House, Father Hugh Maycock, was part of a series on “Faith and Literature ”.
Blackfriars is a Dominican priory and the University of Oxford's permanent

private seat of pre-graduate and graduate studies in Roman Catholic theology.
It is directly across Pusey Street, opposite Pusey House, which was opened in
1884 as a memorial to Dr. Edward Pusey, a leading figure in the Oxford
Movement [19]. Pusey House, on the corner of Pusey Street and St. Giles', is
committed to bringing the Church of England closer to the Roman Catholic
Church and restoring its Catholic life and witness to the former.
Not surprisingly, the prior of Blackfriars and the warden of Pusey House
invited Tolkien, a Roman Catholic and member of the Oxford University
community, to give a talk as part of their series. It may have been surprising
that Tolkien presented a story of his own in its place. His introduction justified
this substitution by noting that the story “contains elements that are relevant to
the consideration of Poetry,
with a capital P, or which some may consider as such”. There was a Tolkien-
esque precedent for this substitution. Invited in 1938 to give a lecture on fairy
tales to a society of pre-graduates at Worcester College, Tolkien, in his place,
read to the audience the then unpublished tale Master Gil de Ham.
“inadequacy of the story for 'modern children'”

Perhaps based on the format (as the first edition was slightly larger than the
original Beatrix Potters published by F. Warne & Co.), Williams misunderstood
the story's intent and intended audience. It is not for children, modern or otherwise,
as Tolkien took great pains to make clear.
He wrote to Roger Lancelyn Green saying that “the story was (of course) not
intended for children! The book of an old man, already oppressed with the omen
of 'deprivation'” (Letters, n. 299).
Genesis of the story
George McDonald
George MacDonald (1824-1905), Victorian novelist and secular preacher, was
the author of many stories for and about children, including The Princess and the
Goblin, The Princess and Curdie, and At the Back of the North Wind , as well as
two philosophical and spiritual stories for adults, Lilith and Phantastes. He also
wrote several fairy stories, including The Golden Key, perhaps the best known.
The Golden Key as a “fairy tale for children”

Nothing in the correspondence between Tolkien and Pantheon Books suggests
that the publisher intended the book to be aimed at children. In Michael di Capua's
first letter to Tolkien, dated September 2, 1964, he simply invited him to write a
preface to The Golden Key. Tolkien responded on September 7, agreeing and
asking about the deadline. Di Capua wrote again on September 23, 1964:
Do you agree that it would not be possible to address your preface to the
young reader, even if this is an illustrated edition of a story that MacDonald
called a “fairy tale”? If you wanted to address this hypothetical child, I
would be happy, but I suspect that trying to write about this story in that
context might limit you. I think you might find it more satisfying to address
an adult reader of MacDonald, and we can assume that a child who can't
handle what you have to say will simply skip the preface. But again, the
choice is yours.
Since nothing in the previous correspondence had addressed the issue of

young readers (indeed, he seemed to be avoiding the subject), it is possible that
the topic was raised in an unrecorded conversation, over the phone or in person,
to which the letter of Di Capua was an answer.
“project collapse”
In the end, The Golden Key was not published by Pantheon Books. In 1966, Michael di
Capua changed publishers, moving from Random House to Farrar, Strauss and Giroux and
taking the MacDonald project with him. The book was published by Farrar in 1967, with
illustrations by Maurice Sendak and an afterword by W.H.
Auden. The dust jacket featured a quote from Tolkien's essay “On Fairy Tales” in which he said:
“Magic, the fairy tale... can be transformed into a vehicle of Mystery. At least that's what George
MacDonald tried, realizing stories of power and beauty when he succeeded, as in The Golden
Key.”
“Jack’s letter of October 9, 1954”
“Jack” was C.S. Lewis, Tolkien’s friend and colleague at Oxford, who died in November 1963.
The “recent collection” in which “Jack’s” letter is cited is Lewis’s Letters to an American Lady .
to an American Lady], edited by Clyde Kilby and published in 1967 by William B. Eerdmans
Publishing Company. On October 9, 1954, Lewis wrote to the “American lady,” Mary Willis:
The fairies — the people of Shidhe (pronounced Shee) — still have believers in many
parts of Ireland and are greatly feared. I stayed in a charming bungalow in County
Louth where they said the woods were haunted by ghosts and fairies. But it was these
that frightened the rural people. Which gives you the point of view — a ghost much
less alarming than a fairy. A man from Donegal told a parish priest I met that one
night, as he was walking home on the beach, a woman came out of the sea, and “her
face was pale as gold”. I saw a leprechaun shoe [20], given to a doctor by a grateful
patient. It was as long, and a little more than as wide, as my index finger, made of soft
leather and a little worn on the sole. But put any idea of comical or pleasant creatures
out of your head. They are greatly feared, and called “the good people” not because
they are good, but to calm them down. I have found no trace of anyone who believes
or ever believed (in England or Ireland) in Shakespeare's tiny fairies, which are a
purely literary invention.
Leprechauns are smaller than men, but most fairies are human in stature, and some
are taller. (Lewis, p. 32.)
A curious corollary to Lewis's anecdote about the leprechaun 's shoe is found
in the Tolkien Centennial Conference Souvenir Book. In it Canon Norman
Power recounts an evening with Tolkien, at a meeting of the Lovelace Club of
Worcester College in 1938 (the meeting referred to earlier, at which he read
Master Gil of Ham). Canon Powers wrote:
As the long night continued, the Friendship Cup[21] went around,

tongues loosened and we all became more relaxed and jovial.
We discuss the reality of Dragons and other inhabitants of Faerie.
To my delight, Tolkien asserted, with great erudition and a wealth of
literary evidence, that there must be something real behind the universal
perception of what a dragon is. Asked about other beings, Tolkien [...]
emptied his pockets. An astonishing collection of scrap metal
accumulated on the floor next to me, such as Bilbo or Gandalf
themselves might have been proud to possess. Entangled in a large
ball of string was a green shoe that Tolkien untangled. It was strange,
about eleven inches long, and pointy, too big to be a doll's shoe. I
touched it: it felt like the skin of some creature like a snake or a lizard.
Tolkien stated decisively, and with apparent sincerity, that it was a
leprechaun's shoe.
Draft presentation of Tolkien for The Golden Key
“edges of the canvas”, “frame added” to the painting

Here Tolkien's images surprisingly recall the concept illustrated at the end of
Folha, by Migalha, when Migalha for the first time sees, beyond the edges of his
screen, the “remote and faintly glimpsed distances” and the hitherto unrevealed
regions of both sides, the land of which your Tree is a part. Tolkien discusses
much the same point in “On Fairy Tales,” where he accuses the convention of
dream narratives of enclosing “a good picture” in a “deformed frame.” The
mechanism for falling asleep and waking up is the
deformed frame, as he denies the amazement of the dreamed content, which
upon awakening is repudiated as being “just” a dream. The idea is perhaps most
extensively covered in the first part of The Notion Club Papers[23], in which the
Club members discuss and criticize the appropriateness of various arbitrary
“framing” devices through which an author establishes time travel or in space
(Sauron Defeated , p. 163-70).
Temporal scheme and characters

The “Time scheme and characters” plan exists in three states. The oldest
consists of three handwritten pages, the most unfinished of which is a year-by-
year listing of events beginning in 1000, with “Nascimento de Vovô Cuca”, and
ending in 1120-1121, with “Grande Festa Alf part and leave Trompeiro like M.-
Cuca”. Important marginal notes narrate and expand the sequence of events. At
the bottom of the page there is a brief list giving the ages of the members of
Ferreiro's family at the time of the story, as follows:
Blacksmith 51
Wife 51
Nan 26
Ned 28
The page is crossed out by a line that crosses it from top to bottom. A second
page, not crossed out, consists of narrative notes that deal mainly with the story
of “Old Grandpa Cuca” and his family. A third
page extends the story to the village and its trades. All three pages are continuous,
in the same handwriting, and appear to have been written at the same time.
A second draft of the “Temporal Scheme”, typed, has corrections and amendments
in ink, including a change from “Trompeiro” to “Harpista” as the name of the third
Mestre-Cuca. The change maintains the association with music, as Tolkien took
care to clarify that this character, who does not play an active role in the story,
should be a musician. A note specifies that horner is the name for “someone who
plays the horn”[24], not like, in the rest of the trades, someone who works with horn
as a material, as happens with wood or stone. This change remains in the third
copy, clean and typed, which is the one reproduced here.
Ferreiro de Bosque Grande Essay
“This brief tale is not an 'allegory'”

Tolkien expressed his displeasure with the allegory so firmly and on so many
occasions that one is tempted to consider the protest exaggerated. In the preface
to the second edition of The Lord of the Rings, he wrote:
[...] cordially, I do not appreciate allegories in all their manifestations, and

it has always been that way since I became adult and perceptive enough
to detect their presence. I like history much more, whether true or
invented, with its varied applicability to readers' thoughts and experiences.
I think many confuse “applicability” with “allegory”, but the first resides in
the reader's freedom, and the second, in the author's purposeful
domination.
Indeed, as Tom Shippey has pointed out, Tolkien used allegory frequently and
to good effect. He used it twice in his essay “Beowulf: The
Monsters and the Critics” [Beowulf: the monsters and the critics], once to portray
the beginning of Beowulf studies as a fairy tale of the Sleeping Princess (the
poem), in which all fairies, except Poetry, are allowed, being present at the child's
christening, and once in the poem's allegory as a tower. What he seems to have
detested and repudiated was “moral” allegory (see his remarks on CS Lewis in
his account of the genesis of the story to Clyde Kilby), in which the second level
of meaning relates to a moral, ethical, religious position. or politics.
Still, he admits that there is a level of allegory in Ferreiro beyond the initial idea
of the very sweet cake, as he highlights in his essay about the story. This is not
the philological allegory proposed by Shippey, who sees Tolkien, a fantasy
scholar, as Blacksmith, the skeptical Noques as the figure of the critic and the
Chef as the figure of the philologist. On the contrary, Tolkien suggested that the
Hall would be the village church, the Cuca would be the Parish Priest and the
Cookery would be personal religion and prayer. This level of meaning, however,
is so latent that it is almost invisible. In the end, it is perhaps easier to accept
Tolkien's preference for applicability that “lies in the freedom of the reader,” rather
than allegory, the “purposeful domination of the author.”
“O minutes as long as years!”

All efforts to locate the source of this quote have so far been unsuccessful.
Fairy > Faërie > Fayery > Faery

A little etymology may help to put in order the spellings of this word used by
Tolkien, which are apparently inconsistent and idiosyncratic. The modern word fairy
comes from the Middle English faerie, from the Old French faerie/ faierie,
“enchantment”, from fae, “fairy”, which in turn originated from the Latin fÿta, “the
Fates”, plural of fÿtum, “Destiny”. , neutral past participle of fÿrÿ, “to speak.” Thus,
Destiny[25] was “spoken; what was said”, for example, a curse or a blessing; and
in its derivation fairy had considerably darker implications than those that the
traditional phrase “fairy tale”[26] carries.
Tolkien clearly preferred the Middle English spelling and usage, as well as the
darker connotations. I felt that the word fairy, as conventionally used in modern
English, had been degraded and divorced from its original, complex and powerful
meaning. He chose older spellings to dissociate the word from its modern
connotations of attractiveness, delicacy and diminutive stature and bring it back to
the older, considerably darker meanings it once had. In Tolkien's lexicon, the word
properly meant “enchantment”, especially through the spoken word, as in magic or
sorcery.
In “On Fairy Tales”, he spelled the word as Faërie. In some early drafts of
Ferreiro, he used a modified Middle English spelling, Fayery, close to that used by
Chaucer in the “Tale of the Woman of Bath”, where the Woman begins her account
with the observation:
“In th'olde days of the Kyng Arthour,

Of which that Britons speken greet honour,
Al was this land fulfilled of Fayeye”.[27]
Tolkien would have agreed with the Woman. In “About Fairy Tales”, he
noted that “the good and bad story of Arthur's court is a 'fairy tale'”.
His final spelling of the word in Blacksmith simply dropped the medial y and
Chaucer's final e , simplifying it to Faery. It is worth noting that, coherently, the
word is spelled Fairy when it is used by old Noques,
while the preferred spelling, Faery, is the standard usage for the story's narrator and
also for Blacksmith, the Queen, and Alf.
Noques
Tolkien characterizes the name Noques[28] as “geographical” to distinguish it
from more typical village trade names such as Blacksmith or Moleiro. While
etymologically it does mean “living near the oak”, it is also, as Tolkien knew, a
standard name for a fool or fool, an ignorant person.
The name and type have at least one other similar occurrence in his work, with the
“Velho Noques de Beirágua”[29], who participates in the explanatory conversation in
the Branch of Hera, in the opening chapter of The Lord of the Rings. This Noques is
suspicious deeply from Frodo's connections with the Brandenburgs "down in
Buckland, where the people are so strange." That his doubts about the Brandebuks
make it easier for him to think badly of them is demonstrated by the dismal addition
to the story of Frodo's parents' watery death: "I heard that she [Frodo's mother]
pushed him [Frodo's father], and he pushed her pulled it into the water.” It is clear
that for Noques, whose judgment is cast into doubt by his own name, no story about
outsiders coming from the other side of the river is too scandalous to be believed; in
fact, the more picturesque, the better.
Like many in Hobbit Village (in fact, almost everyone except Bilbo, Frodo, Sam,
Merry, and Pippin), Noques is narrow-minded and xenophobic, automatically
distrusting anyone he doesn't know. Along with Red Red, Noques represents the
unimaginative and skeptical hobbit type, whose opposite type is Sam Gamgee, with
his romantic desire to see the elves. Thus, the name Nokes/Noakes functions as a
kind of shorthand for willful ignorance and prejudice.
Bosque [Big, Small], Vilamata and the Woods[30]

The village names in Ferreiro are all etymologically associated with the idea of a
wood or forest, which in the story is purposely its closest location. Bosque Grande is
next to the edge of Bosque Oeste. Bosque Pequeno, where Ginete, Ferreiro's
grandfather, comes from, is located within its limits; It's a village in the clearing.
Vilamata, where Rosa Cantadora, Ferreiro's grandmother, comes from, is even
deeper in the forest. Both Bosque villages, Big and Little, derive their first name
[Wootton] from the Old English wudu-tun, “TUN [town, “village”] in or by a forest”. O
The name Walton most likely derives from the Old English W(e) ald-tun “TUN [town,
“village”] in a forest or grove”.
Tolkien may also have had in mind a second meaning of Walton, as it is possible
that the element wal derives not from w(e)ald, but from walh or wealh, a Germanic
word normally translated as “foreigner”, applied by the Anglo invaders. Saxons to native
speakers of Brittisc [British], a Celtic language. Over time, the Germanic word and its
derivatives became synonymous with British and British and ended up replacing these
terms. Thus, the name Walton may refer to a village [tun] of Wealas, speakers of what
would then have been the Wælisc language (modern Welsh ). Four Waltons, currently
located in the Birmingham region, close to where Tolkien grew up, may demonstrate
the presence of Welsh-speaking people there, in the period after the establishment of
the Anglo-Saxons, a circumstance of which he would certainly have been aware. The
two meanings, “woodland” and “Welsh”, however, are not mutually exclusive and may,
in fact, be related, in that Tolkien's location of Walton, deep in a forest, was intended to
imply great closeness and familiarity with his Faery, with a strong Celtic influence.
Celtic mythology, specifically Irish and Welsh, traditionally locates the Otherworld in
the west, sometimes across the sea or underground, but often in a forest. Tolkien's
preference for using a forest as the entrance to his Faery may have something to do
with his familiarity with “Pwy ll”, the First Branch of the Welsh Mabinogion . At the
beginning of this story, Pwyll, Prince of Dyfed, who has gone hunting in a forest, meets
Arawn, King of Annwfn (the Welsh Otherworld), in a woodland clearing. The two switch
forms and Pwyll spends the next year in Annwfn, while Arawn reigns in Dyfed.
Tolkien's personal library catalog lists diplomatic editions[31] of the White Book of
Rhydderch and the Red Book of Hergest, two medieval manuscripts of the Mabinogion,
from which he made his own transcription and partial translation of “Pwy ll”. Among his
notes on “Pwyll” is a discussion of the etymology of “Annwfn”.
narrators, guitar players [32]
These are old words for storytellers and fiddle players. Since a modern reader is
unlikely to recognize any of these
terms, they seem to have been used largely for archaic effect.
However, in fact, the verb form of sedger was still in use in a corner of England
in the first decades of the 20th century, as Tolkien would know. He contributed
the foreword to A New Glossary of the Dialect of the Huddersfield District by
Walter E.
Haigh, published in 1928, which lists se¯, past sed, “to say, speak”, from Middle
English seggen; in Old English, secgan, “to say.”
Tolkien was quite familiar with such ancient words from A Middle English
Vocabulary , his lexicon appended to Kenneth Sisam's Fourteenth Century Verse
and Prose. In it, as well as in his essay, Tolkien glosses seggers (Middle English
segge(n), “to tell”) as “professional storytellers,” while also explaining crouders
as “fiddlers” (Middle English croud, crouþ, Welsh crtwh, "fiddle"). His Middle
English review of Sir Orfeo included crouders, but when he translated this poem
into modern English he replaced crouders with fiddlers .
However, since in their essay they are both listed as musicians, crowthers
must differ in some way from fiddlers.[33] The instruments are comparable, but
not equal. Fiddle is self-explanatory and still used, both word and instrument,
while the OED[34] defines the now obsolete word crowd as an equally obsolete
Celtic instrument of the viola class, which in ancient times had three strings. ,
and later there were six, four of which were played with a bow and two were
plucked. The difference is partly etymological, as croud is of Celtic origin, and
fiddle, Germanic. It's clear that Tolkien wanted both.
Archaic words may have helped establish in your mind a general sense of
time and place. His essay, little more explicit than the opening of the story, with
its “not long ago nor far away”, sets the scene in an “imaginary (but English)
countryside, before the advent of machinery as the driving force”. This
corresponds to a time span of twelve or thirteen centuries, leaving history floating
in time. The archaic words have the effect of anchoring it somewhere in or near
the 14th century. The inclusion of the old words, not in the story itself, but in the
collateral essay, seems consistent with the fact that Tolkien eliminated slider
from the Lake of Tears episode. The simple language of the narrative creates its
own world and focuses attention on the theme, not the period. The introduction
of old words into the essay conveys a
feeling of detachment, as of an isolated rustic environment, or of antiquity seen in

historical perspective.
Tolkien's visions of Faërie

The nature of Fairyland, as illustrated in the story and described in the
accompanying essay, contradicts in some respects Tolkien's earlier discussion in
“Of Fairy Tales.” There he wrote that, “if elves are real and do exist, independently
of our stories about them, then this too is certainly true: elves are not primarily
interested in us, nor we in them. Our destinies are distinct, and it is rare that our
paths meet.” In the story, he shows what he clearly states in the essay: that the
individuals of Terra-Fada are “interested in Men (not necessarily in the first place)
and beneficial”; that the relationship is “one of love” and that the inhabitants of
Terra-Fada have “after all, a kinship with Men and a permanent love for them in
general”.
OHMS
On His/ Her Majesty's Service[35], identifying stamp used by the government of
Great Britain to designate official correspondence. Applied to the King, this would
mean that he was there a messenger of the Queen, carrying her message to
Ferreiro in an official capacity.
“The church was 'reformed'. The memory of 'happier' days survives”

Tolkien's allegorical argument at this point, that the Hall (the Church) is no
longer painted or decorated, but has become merely utilitarian—“reformed”
because “there are no more songs, music, or dances”—may refer to the most
extreme aspects of the Protestant Reformation. These discouraged the decoration
of churches and severely reduced the performance of rituals and ceremonies in
religious practices and forms of worship. They also banned more secular
celebrations and entertainment such as singing (except hymns) and dancing. His
reference, in the next sentence, to a memory of “merry” days, recalls the
expression “Merry England ”[36], a phrase that evokes a utopian, pre-industrial
way of life, now ruined by the rise of commerce and motivation. profit, a decline
attributed to Bosque Grande in the next paragraph of the essay. It may also be an
allusion to the proverbial phrase that
is often used to contrast the (presumably) worse present with a past, but (also
presumably) better and therefore happier time, as in Olivia's comment in Twelfth
Night that “it has never been a merry world since the humble pretense was
called praise", or the Clown's observation in Measure for Measure that "it has
never been a merry world since, of two usuries, the gayer was lowered, and
the worse was allowed by order of the law a toga of skin to keep it warm”[37].
The opening phrase, a generic aphorism, applied to any situation, for example,
the Duke of Suffolk's comment about Cardinal Wolsey that “there has never
been joy in England since we had Cardinals here!”, or in the more oblique “it
was a merry world (said the Papist) before the Bible was published in English.”
Hybrid draft
The handwritten pages of this draft were apparently copied, in part, from four handwritten pages
of a more rudimentary draft, written in ink over a now illegible penciled text. On these more
rudimentary pages, the paragraphs are numbered in the margin from 1 to 7, but not in the sequence
in which they appear. Numbering is clearly a different and preferable paragraph reorganization
scheme that appears in clean handwritten copy.
“your name (Starry Front) in Fairyland”
The literal translation of Gilthir would not be “Starry Front”, but “Starry Face”. The name is a word
or lexical compound that derives from the languages invented by Tolkien. The proto-Eldarin gilé
glossed in the Etymologies (HME[38], v.
5, The Lost Road , p. 358) as “shine”, with the variant gîl, “star”. The Sindarin thir is more difficult to
trace, but appears in the name Caranthir, “Dark Face,” the name of Fëanor's fourth son. The
etymology of thir is given in the linguistic magazine Vinyar Tengwar, n. 41, July 2000, p. 10, as
follows: þîr, “face” (< stÿrÿ). An earlier, slightly different derivation appears in the Etymologies under
“THÿ- look or seem. N[39]thîr (*thÿrÿ) aspect, face, expression, countenance” (HME, v. 5, The Lost
Road, p. 392).
“At home he was called Alfred Filho do Ferreiro”
Called simply “the boy” in the typed pages, the blacksmith is often referred to as Alfred in the
manuscript pages, while the character who in later drafts is called Alf is here called simply “the
Apprentice.” The name changed its reference as the story evolved, as shown by a singular case in
the typescript. On page three, for the only time, the first Cuca says goodbye to “Edwy”, with Edwy
then crossed out and Alf written over it. It seems clear that the decision to associate the Apprentice
with Fairyland by name must have been taken, therefore, some time after the draft was completely
written. The name Edwy never appears again and was obviously only considered for a short time
before being replaced. One Edwy (or Eadwig; the name means “merry war”) was king of Wessex
from 955 to 959, but since it is unlikely that Tolkien intended to reference Edwy of Wessex, he may
have intended the name to be a variant of Edwyn or
Edwin, from the Anglo-Saxon Eadwine, “friend of contentment” or “friend of

happiness”. This name, along with its variants Edwin and Audoin, features
significantly in Tolkien's two unfinished time travel stories about the Fall of
Númenor, The Lost Road and The Notion Club Papers.
Footnotes
[*] One pound sterling was equivalent to 120 pence; a sixpence coin was about 19 mm in
diameter. [No. from T.]
[*] In the original, Smith Smithson. [No. from T.]
[1] Here translated by Terra-Fada to maintain the semantic and etymological connection with
fairy . To clarify the term, a note from the translator already included in JRR Tolkien: a
biography, by Humphrey Carpenter (São Paulo, Martins Fontes, 1992, p. 273):
There is no Portuguese word that can adequately translate the rich meanings of
the term. Fairy (sometimes spelled as faerie, faery, faërie, faëry) means fairy,
fantastic being, enchanted land, place of unreal beauty, the set of nature spirits.
Used as an adjective, it suggests magical, unreal beauty. [No. from T.]
[2] “Fairy” or, by extension, “Fairy Land”. [No. from T.]
[3] In fact, Tolkien wrote “guide”, not “author”, since he described the author of the story as a
guide through the enchanted land. [No. from T.]
[4] Carpenter, Humphrey. JRR Tolkien's letters. Curitiba, Ed. Arte e Letra, 2006, p. 207. [No.
from T.]
[5] It is not known that there was a Portuguese version at the time of this translation into Brazilian
Portuguese. [No. from T.]
[6] P. 26 of the Brazilian edition (WMF Martins Fontes, 2013). [No. from T.]
[7] This hall had been redecorated by Novo Cuca at his own expense. [No. from A.]
[8] In the original, the names of the offices that in English also serve as family surnames
appear: Smith, Cooper, Miller, Wright, Weaver, Webster, Stonewright (Mason). [No. from T.]
[9] In the original, Draper, Spicer, Chandler. [No. from T.]
[10] The name in the original is Noakes, from the ancient atten oke, “by the oak”. [No. from
T.]
[11] “Welcome to the Forest”, in Old English [N. from T.]

[12] In the original, names of professions that in English serve as family surnames appear once
again: Sedgers, Pipers, Harpers, Crowthers, Fiddlers, Horners, Sangsters and, soon after,
Dyers. [No. from T.]
[13] “Days of the Quarter”, the first days of each quarter or those on which quarterly payments
are made. [No. from T.]
[14] According to the original, the “que” (who) appears repeated. [No. from T.]
[15] In the original, Alfred Smithson. [No. from T.]
[16] From the German Festschrift, “commemorative writing”. [No. from T.]
[17] Tolkien, JRR Tree and leaf. São Paulo, WMF Martins Fontes, 2013, p. 6.
[18] In the original, The Tolkien Collection in the Department of Western Manuscripts of the
Bodleian Library. [No. from T.]
[19] Anglican Church Movement in the early 19th century. [No. from T.]
[20] Leprechaun from Irish folklore. [No. from T]
[21] Loving Cup, in the original [N. from T.]
[22] About 28 cm. [No. from T.]
[23] Abandoned novel, published in Sauron Defeated, vol. IX of The History of Middle-earth .
[No. from T.]
[24] In English, horn designates both the horn of an animal and the trumpet, a musical
instrument. [No. from T.]
[25] Or Fado. [No. from T.]
[26] “Fairy tale”. [No. from T.]
[27] “In the ancient days of King Arthur, / Of which the British speak with great honor, / All this
land was full of Fayerye.” [No. from T.]
[28] In the original, Nokes. [No. from T.]
[29] In the original, “Old Noakes of Bywater”. [No. from T.]
[30] In the original: Wootton and Walton and the Wood [N. from T.]
[31] A diplomatic edition seeks to reproduce exactly, through typography, what is written in a
manuscript. [No. from T.]
[32] In the original, Sedgers, Crowthers. [No. from T.]
[33] Violeiros, in this translation. [No. from T.]

[34] Oxford English Dictionary, the most authoritative dictionary of the English language.
Tolkien contributed to its writing. [No. from T.]
[35] In the Service of His Majesty. [No. from T.]
[36] “Merry England.” [No. from T.]
[37] From Shakespeare's plays called (in the original), respectively, Twelfth Night and
Measure for Measure: “'Twas never merry world since lowly feigning was called'd
compliment” and “'Twas never merry world since, of two usuries, the merriest was put
down, and the worst allowed by order of law a furred gown to keep him warm.” [No.
from T.]
[38] The History of Middle-earth. [No. from T.]
[39] Noldorin, an Elvish language whose variant was later called Sindarin. [No. from T.]
This work was originally published in English under the title SMITH
OF WOOTTON MAJOR, by HarperCollins Publisher Ltd., in 1967.
© 1967, The Tolkien Trust
Copyright © 2015, Editora WMF Martins Fontes Ltda., São Paulo, for this edition.
All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, stored in
retrievable electronic systems, or transmitted by any electronic, mechanical or other form
or means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
1st edition2015
Digital edition2015
Translation
RONALD EDUARD KYRMSE
Editorial monitoring
Fernando Santos
Original preparation
Marcia Menin
Graphic revisions
Maria Luiza Favret
Solange Martins
Production of the ePub file
Booknando Books
International Cataloging-in-Publication (CIP) Data

(Brazilian Book Chamber, SP, Brazil)
Tolkien, JRR, 1892-1973.
Ferreiro de Bosque Grande [electronic book] / JRR

Tolkien; edited by Verlyn Flieger; translated Ronald Eduard
Kyrmse. – São Paulo: Editora WMF Martins Fontes, 2015.
18.1 Mb; ePUP

Original title: Smith of Wootton Major

ISBN 978-85-469-0011-4
Fiction – Children’s Literature I. Flieger, Verlyn.

II. Title.
15-10149 CDD-028.5
Indexes for systematic catalog:

Fiction: Children's literature 028.5
Fiction: Youth literature 028.5
All rights of this edition reserved to

Editora WMF Martins Fontes Ltda.
Rua Prof. Laerte Ramos de Carvalho, 133 01325-030 São Paulo SP Brazil
Tel. (11) 3293.8150 Fax (11) 3101.1042
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SÃO PAULO 2015

Blacksmith of Bosque Grande

“Genesis of History” – Note from Tolkien to Clyde Kilby

Draft presentation of Tolkien for The Golden Key

Temporal scheme and characters of “The Big Cake”

Suggestions for the end of the story

Blacksmith of Bosque Grande

Draft and hybrid transcription of “The Big Cake”

Drafts and transcriptions of “Lake of Tears”

“DON’T READ THIS! Not yet."

He was firmly convinced that editorial presentations were an unnecessary intrusion, as

Reader, I present to you the Blacksmith of Bosque Grande.

However, when he started to separate the ingredients to prepare the cake, he

- It's funny! — he said, holding it up to the light.

— It's fadic — explained Novato. — It comes from Fairyland.

— You already said that — Cuca replied harshly.

— Who do you think you're talking to? — said Noques.

— It's my job to have ideas, not yours — Noques concluded.

— Isn't it beautiful, fairy thing?!

- No! I almost forgot — Cuca continued. — Twenty-five tonight. There is also a

— This reminds me of Fairyland — he thought — but in Fairyland people

In Fairyland, at first, he generally walked in silence among the smaller people

— Blessed be the birch! What can I do to compensate or be grateful?

“But, Lady of Fairyland,” he stammered. –, Where is the King then? —

And the Queen replied:

—Are you going my way, Starry Front?

— Which way are you going, then? - He asked.

— Indeed, I am — confirmed the blacksmith. — Let's walk together. But now

— Yes, I'll be back. You can give the message to me.

- Know. What is the message?

- I understand. Don't worry anymore.

— I didn't know that — said the blacksmith.

— Could and couldn't. We’ll have to see,” said Alf.

— Go to whichever one you indicate.

The blacksmith was surprised and did not respond immediately.

“I noticed that,” declared Alf. — He had a wise mother.

—Then why did you ask me to choose?

— I finally understand, sir. He gave us an immense honor.

“I've been rewarded,” said Alf. —Now go home in peace!

Why are we alone?

His son gave him a reproachful look.

- Why? Mom is there in Pequeno, at Nan's house. And the second

Ned's eyes were wide with astonishment.

Finally the son looked at him and said:

— There's the star, Master, down there, in the corner.

— It really is! — he exclaimed. — At least that's what it seems like.

To Noques' dismay, he grew in stature as he spoke.

The King's face softened.

In the village, in fact, several families missed Alf for a while.

Having abandoned the presentation of MacDonald's story to devote himself to the

Tolkien's signature written underneath, in ink. A large stamped postal envelope

The event completely surprised me and also the promoters of the

In response to a question about this event, a different version was presented

As far as I remember, there was no publicity, other than perhaps a

A second explanation for the difficulty in listening to the speaker is Tolkien's

Italian, Serbo-Croatian and French. Compared to the story's evident popular

Even though these elements are undeniably present, it would be a disservice

The “Temporal scheme and characters” presents extensive genealogies and

DON'T READ THIS! Not yet.

However, since MacDonald himself called The Golden Key a history