Datlow, Ellen (ed) - Fairy Tales Retold / Датлоу, Эллен (ред) - "Волшебные сказки, рассказанные заново" [2009-2012, EPUB, ENG]

Introduction by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling The Months of Manhattan by Delia Sherman Cinder Elephant by Jane Yolen Instructions / Инструкции by Neil Gaiman Mrs. Big: "Jack and the Beanstalk" Retold by Michael Cadnum Falada: The Goose Girl's Horse by Nancy Farmer A Wolf at the Door by Tanith Lee Ali Baba and the Forty Aliens by Janeen Webb Swans by Kelly Link The Kingdom of Melting Glances by Katherine Vaz Hansel's Eyes / Глаза Гензеля by Garth Nix Becoming Charise by Kathe Koja The Seven Stage a Comeback by Gregory Maguire The Twelve Dancing Princesses by Patricia A. McKillip

Introduction by Terri Windling and Ellen Datlow Greenkid by Jane Yolen Golden Fur by Midori Snyder Chambers of the Heart by Nina Kiriki Hoffman Little Red and the Big Bad by Will Shetterly The Fish's Story by Pat York The Children of the Tilford Fortune by Christopher Rowe The Girl in the Attic by Lois Metzger The Harp That Sang by Gregory Frost A Life in Miniature by Bruce Coville Lupe by Kathe Koja Awake by Tanith Lee Inventing Aladdin / Сотворение Аладдина by Neil Gaiman My Swan Sister by Katherine Vaz

Introduction by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling Wizard's Apprentice / Ученик волшебника by Delia Sherman An Unwelcome Guest / Незваный гость by Garth Nix Faery Tales / Волшебные сказки by Wendy Froud Rags and Riches / Из грязи в князи by Nina Kiriki Hoffman Up the Down Beanstalk: A Wife Remembers / Вверх и вниз по бобовому стеблю: воспоминания великанши by Peter S. Beagle The Shoes That Were Danced to Pieces / Изношенные танцевальные туфли by Ellen Kushner Puss in Boots, the Sequel / Кот в сапогах. Продолжение by Joseph Stanton The Boy Who Cried Wolf / Мальчик, который выл, как волк by Holly Black Troll / Тролль by Jane Yolen Castle Othello / Замок Отелло by Nancy Farmer 'Skin / Жулик by Michael Cadnum A Delicate Architecture / Хрупкое создание by Catherynne M. Valente Molly / Молли by Midori Snyder Observing the Formalities / О вежливости by Neil Gaiman The Cinderella Game / Игра в Золушку by Kelly Link

  Hansel was ten and his sister, Gretel, was eleven when their stepmother decided to get rid of them. They didn’t catch on at first, because the Hagmom (their secret name for her) had always hated them. So leaving them behind at the supermarket or forgetting to pick them up after school was no big deal. It was only when their father got in on the “disappearing the kids” act that they realized it was serious. Although he was a weak man, they thought he might still love them enough to stand up to the Hagmom. They realized he didn’t the day he took them out into the woods. Hansel wanted to do the whole Boy Scout thing and take a water bottle and a pile of other stuff, but their dad said they wouldn’t need it. It’d only be a short walk. Then he dumped them. They’d just gotten out of the car when he took off. They didn’t try to chase him. They knew the signs. The Hagmom had hypnotized him again or whatever she did to make him do things. “Guess she’s going to get a nasty surprise when we get back,” said Hansel, taking out the map he’d stuffed down the front of his shirt. Gretel silently handed him the compass she’d tucked into her sock. . . .

Special to the Cumulonimbus Weekly Chronicle, as recounted by Mrs. Eunice Giant, 72 Fairweather Lane, East-of-the-Bean, Sussex Overhead

He seemed like such a nice boy. And he was a nice boy, really, for all the vexation he caused. They always are; I’ve never eaten a bad one yet. Oh, there’s some don’t care for the crunchiness, I know that, and there’s others who complain about that sort of salty aftertaste. But you clean the palate with a couple of firkins of ale, and where’s the harm, that’s what I say. No, I like boys just fine. Always have. The funny thing is that poor old Harvey didn’t like them, not really. Oh, he’d eat one now and then, if we were having dinner at someone’s house—I mean, you have to be polite, don’t you? But for himself, no . . . you could keep that man perfectly happy with a couple of cows, a couple of horses smothered in sheep, the way my mother used to do them—he loved that. Which wasn’t exactly what you might call labor-saving, because, after all, cows and horses don’t come running to you, do they? I mean, you have to go out and get them, and then you have to carry them all the way home. Not like people—you see what I’m getting at? . . .