With this is mingled the feeling of Andersen's
delicate whimsicality of style. The dear little Ugly Duckling waddles,
bodily, into your consciousness, and you pity his sorrows and anticipate
his triumph, before you begin.
This preliminary recognition of mood is what brings the delicious
quizzical twitch to the mouth of a good raconteur who begins an anecdote
the hearers know will be side-splitting. It is what makes grandmother sigh
gently and look far over your heads, when her soft voice commences the
story of "the little girl who lived long, long ago." It is a natural and
instinctive thing with the born story-teller; a necessary thing for anyone
who will become a story-teller.
From the very start, the mood of the tale should be definite and
authoritative, beginning with the mood of the teller and emanating
therefrom in proportion as the physique of the teller is a responsive
medium.
Now we are off. Knowing your story, having your hearers well arranged, and
being as thoroughly as you are able in the right mood, you begin to tell
it. Tell it, then, simply, directly, dramatically, with zest.
_Simply_ applies both to manner and matter. As to manner, I mean without
affectation, without any form of pretence, in short, without posing. It is
a pity to "talk down" to the children, to assume a honeyed voice, to think
of the edifying or educational value of the work one is doing.
Pages:
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106