Pans labyrint: Het labyrint van de faun
2 lug 2019
Editore: Querido (2 luglio 2019)
Lingua: Olandese
ISBN-10: 9045123525
ISBN-13: 978-9045123523
Can the long-lost princess find her way home? Sinister characters, dark corners, and a war-torn world await you in a brand new illustrated fantasy novel, written by Guillermo del Toro himself. Return to the dark fairy tale world of Pan's Labyrinth and experience stories just waiting to be brought to light.
Può la principessa perduta ritrovare la strada di casa? Personaggi sinistri, angoli
oscuri e un mondo devastato dalla guerra ti aspettano in un nuovissimo romanzo
fantasy illustrato, scritto da Guillermo del Toro stesso. Torna al mondo oscuro
delle fiabe di Pan's Labyrinth e vivi storie che aspettano solo di essere portate
alla luce.
Dalla seconda/terza di copertina
Indringende en adembenemende YA fantasyroman gebaseerd op de film Pan’s Labyrinth
In het Spanje van de jaren ’40 gaat Ofelia met haar moeder bij haar stiefvader wonen. Hij is officier in het leger van Franco en heeft zijn hoofdkwartier in een afgelegen molen in een donker bos. Ofelia’s moeder is zwanger en wordt al snel na de verhuizing ziek. Terwijl haar moeder elke dag zwakker wordt en de wrede aard van haar stiefvader zich steeds meer openbaart, beginnen voor Ofelia de grenzen tussen fantasie en werkelijkheid te vervagen. Ofelia ontdekt in de buurt van het bos een verborgen wereld, die aanvankelijk sprookjesachtig lijkt maar steeds gruwelijker wordt…
De bekroonde filmmaker Guillermo del Toro vroeg Cornelia Funke een boek te schrijven gebaseerd op zijn veelgeprezen Pan’s Labyrinth. Cornelia Funke heeft het verhaal op haar geheel eigen manier bewerkt tot een YA roman waarin sprookjesachtige magie en realiteit op unieke wijze vervlochten zijn.
In het Spanje van de jaren ’40 gaat Ofelia met haar moeder bij haar stiefvader wonen. Hij is officier in het leger van Franco en heeft zijn hoofdkwartier in een afgelegen molen in een donker bos. Ofelia’s moeder is zwanger en wordt al snel na de verhuizing ziek. Terwijl haar moeder elke dag zwakker wordt en de wrede aard van haar stiefvader zich steeds meer openbaart, beginnen voor Ofelia de grenzen tussen fantasie en werkelijkheid te vervagen. Ofelia ontdekt in de buurt van het bos een verborgen wereld, die aanvankelijk sprookjesachtig lijkt maar steeds gruwelijker wordt…
De bekroonde filmmaker Guillermo del Toro vroeg Cornelia Funke een boek te schrijven gebaseerd op zijn veelgeprezen Pan’s Labyrinth. Cornelia Funke heeft het verhaal op haar geheel eigen manier bewerkt tot een YA roman waarin sprookjesachtige magie en realiteit op unieke wijze vervlochten zijn.
Dalla seconda/terza di copertina
Fantastico fantasy penetrante e mozzafiato basato sul film Pan's Labyrinth
Negli anni '40 della Spagna, Ofelia va a vivere con il suo patrigno con sua madre.
È un ufficiale dell'esercito di Franco e ha il suo quartier generale in un mulino
a distanza in una foresta oscura. La madre di Ofelia è incinta e si ammala poco
dopo la mossa. Mentre sua madre si indebolisce ogni giorno e la natura crudele del
suo patrigno diventa sempre più evidente, i confini tra fantasia e realtà cominciano
a confondersi con Ofelia. Ofelia scopre un mondo nascosto vicino alla foresta, che
inizialmente sembra una favola ma diventa sempre più orribile ...
Il pluripremiato regista Guillermo del Toro ha chiesto a Cornelia Funke di scrivere
un libro basato sul suo acclamato film di Pan's Labyrinth. Cornelia Funke ha modificato
la storia nel suo modo unico in un romanzo YA in cui la magia e la realtà delle fiabe
si intrecciano in un modo unico.
Dalla quarta di copertina
Indringende en adembenemende YA fantasyroman gebaseerd op de film Pan’s Labyrinth
In het Spanje van de jaren ’40 gaat Ofelia met haar moeder bij haar stiefvader wonen. Hij is officier in het leger van Franco en heeft zijn hoofdkwartier in een afgelegen molen in een donker bos. Ofelia’s moeder is zwanger en wordt al snel na de verhuizing ziek. Terwijl haar moeder elke dag zwakker wordt en de wrede aard van haar stiefvader zich steeds meer openbaart, beginnen voor Ofelia de grenzen tussen fantasie en werkelijkheid te vervagen. Ofelia ontdekt in de buurt van het bos een verborgen wereld, die aanvankelijk sprookjesachtig lijkt maar steeds gruwelijker wordt…
De bekroonde filmmaker Guillermo del Toro vroeg Cornelia Funke een boek te schrijven gebaseerd op zijn veelgeprezen Pan’s Labyrinth. Cornelia Funke heeft het verhaal op haar geheel eigen manier bewerkt tot een YA roman waarin sprookjesachtige magie en realiteit op unieke wijze vervlochten zijn.
In het Spanje van de jaren ’40 gaat Ofelia met haar moeder bij haar stiefvader wonen. Hij is officier in het leger van Franco en heeft zijn hoofdkwartier in een afgelegen molen in een donker bos. Ofelia’s moeder is zwanger en wordt al snel na de verhuizing ziek. Terwijl haar moeder elke dag zwakker wordt en de wrede aard van haar stiefvader zich steeds meer openbaart, beginnen voor Ofelia de grenzen tussen fantasie en werkelijkheid te vervagen. Ofelia ontdekt in de buurt van het bos een verborgen wereld, die aanvankelijk sprookjesachtig lijkt maar steeds gruwelijker wordt…
De bekroonde filmmaker Guillermo del Toro vroeg Cornelia Funke een boek te schrijven gebaseerd op zijn veelgeprezen Pan’s Labyrinth. Cornelia Funke heeft het verhaal op haar geheel eigen manier bewerkt tot een YA roman waarin sprookjesachtige magie en realiteit op unieke wijze vervlochten zijn.
Dalla quarta di copertina
Fantastico fantasy penetrante e mozzafiato basato sul film Pan's Labyrinth
Negli anni '40 della Spagna, Ofelia va a vivere con il suo patrigno con sua madre.
È un ufficiale dell'esercito di Franco e ha il suo quartier generale in un mulino
a distanza in una foresta oscura. La madre di Ofelia è incinta e si ammala poco dopo
la mossa. Mentre sua madre si indebolisce ogni giorno e la natura crudele del suo
patrigno diventa sempre più evidente, i confini tra fantasia e realtà cominciano a
confondersi con Ofelia. Ofelia scopre un mondo nascosto vicino alla foresta, che
inizialmente sembra una favola ma diventa sempre più orribile ...
Il pluripremiato regista Guillermo del Toro ha chiesto a Cornelia Funke di scrivere
un libro basato sul suo acclamato film di Pan's Labyrinth. Cornelia Funke ha
modificato la storia nel suo modo unico in un romanzo YA in cui la magia e la realtà
delle fiabe si intrecciano in un modo unico.
PROLOGUE
It is said that long, long ago,
there lived a princess in an underground realm, where neither lies nor
pain exist, who dreamt of the human world. Princess Moanna dreamt of a
perfect blue sky and an infinite sea of clouds;
she dreamt of the sun and the grass and the taste of rain. . . . So,
one day the princess escaped her guards and came to our world. Soon the
sun erased all her memories and she forgot who she was or where she came
from. She wandered the earth, suffering cold,
sickness, and pain. And finally, she died.
Her father, the king, would not
give up searching for her. For he knew Moanna’s spirit to be immortal
and hoped that it one day would come back to him.
In another body, at another time. Perhaps in another place.
He would wait.
Down to his last breath.
Until the end of time.
PROLOGO
Si dice che molto, molto tempo fa, vivesse una principessa in un regno sotterraneo,
dove non esistono né bugie né dolore, che sognavano il mondo umano. La principessa
Moanna sognava un perfetto cielo blu e un infinito mare di nuvole; sognava il sole,
l'erba e il sapore della pioggia. . . . Così, un giorno la principessa è sfuggita
alle sue guardie e venne nel nostro mondo. Ben presto il sole cancellò tutti i suoi
ricordi e dimenticò chi era o da dove veniva. Ha vagato per la terra, soffrendo
freddo, malattia e dolore. E infine, è morta.
Suo padre, il re, non voleva rinunciare a cercarla. Perché sapeva che lo spirito
di Moanna doveva essere immortale e sperava che un giorno sarebbe tornato da lui.
In un altro corpo, in un altro momento. Forse in un altro posto.
Aspettava.
Fino al suo ultimo respiro.
Fino alla fine dei tempi.
1
All the Shapes Evil Takes
All the Shapes Evil Takes
There once was a forest in the
north of Spain, so old that it could tell stories long past and
forgotten by men. The trees anchored so deeply in the moss-covered soil
they laced the bones of the dead with their roots while
their branches reached for the stars.
So many things lost, the leaves were murmuring as three black cars came driving down the unpaved road that cut through fern and moss.
But all things lost can be found again, the trees whispered.
It was the year 1944 and the girl
sitting in one of the cars, next to her pregnant mother, didn’t
understand what the trees whispered. Her name was Ofelia and she knew
everything about the pain of loss, although she was
only thirteen years old. Her father had died just a year ago and Ofelia
missed him so terribly that at times her heart felt like an empty box
with nothing but the echo of her pain in it. She often wondered whether
her mother felt the same, but she couldn’t
find the answer in her pale face.
“As white as snow, as red as blood,
as black as coal,” Ofelia’s father used to say when he looked at her
mother, his voice soft with tenderness. “You look so much like her,
Ofelia.” Lost.
They had been driving for hours,
farther and farther away from everything Ofelia knew, deeper and deeper
into this never-ending forest, to meet the man her mother had chosen to
be Ofelia’s new father. Ofelia called him the
Wolf, and she didn’t want to think about him. But even the trees seemed
to whisper his name.
The only piece of home Ofelia had
been able to take with her were some of her books. She closed her fingers
firmly around the one on her lap, caressing the cover. When she opened
the book, the white pages were so bright against
the shadows that filled the forest and the words they offered granted
shelter and comfort. The letters were like footprints in the snow, a
wide white landscape untouched by pain, unharmed by memories too dark to
keep, too sweet to let go of.
“Why did you bring all these books,
Ofelia? We’ll be in the country!” The car ride had paled her mother’s
face even more. The car ride and the baby she was carrying. She grabbed
the book from Ofelia’s hands and all the comforting
words fell silent.
“You are too old for fairy tales, Ofelia! You need to start looking at the world!”
Her mother’s voice was like a broken bell. Ofelia couldn’t remember her ever sounding like that when her father was still alive.
“Oh, we’ll be late!” Her mother sighed, pressing her handkerchief to her lips. “He will not like that.”
He . . .
She moaned and Ofelia leaned forward to grab the driver’s shoulder.
“Stop!” she called. “Stop the car. Don’t you see? My mother is sick.”
The driver throttled the engine
with a grunt. Wolves—that’s what they were, these soldiers accompanying
them. Man-eating wolves. Her mother said fairy tales didn’t have
anything to do with the world, but Ofelia knew better.
They had taught her everything about it.
She climbed out of the car while
her mother stumbled to the side of the road and vomited into the ferns.
They grew as densely between the trees as an ocean of feathery fronds,
from which gray-barked trunks emerged like creatures
reaching up from a sunken world below.
The two other cars had stopped as
well and the forest was swarming with gray uniforms. The trees didn’t
like them. Ofelia could sense it. Serrano, the commanding officer, came
to check on her mother. He was a tall, bulky
man who talked too loudly and wore his uniform like a theater costume.
Her mother asked him for water in her broken-bell voice, and Ofelia
walked a little way down the unpaved road.
Water, the trees whispered. Earth. Sun.
The fern fronds brushed Ofelia’s
dress like green fingers, and she lowered her gaze when she stepped on a
stone. It was gray like the soldiers’ uniforms, placed in the middle of
the road as if someone had lost it there. Her
mother was once again vomiting behind her. Why does it make women sick
to bring children into the world?
Ofelia bent down and closed her
fingers around the stone. Time had covered it in moss, but when Ofelia
brushed it off, she saw it was flat and smooth and that someone had
carved an eye on it.
A human eye.
Ofelia looked around.
All she could see were three
withered stone columns, almost invisible among the high ferns. The gray
rock from which they were carved was covered with strange concentric
patterns and the central column had an ancient corroded
stone face gazing out into the forest. Ofelia couldn’t resist. She
stepped off the road and walked toward it, although her shoes were wet
with dew after just a few steps and thistles clung to her dress.
The face was missing an eye. Just like a puzzle missing a piece—waiting to be solved.
Ofelia gripped the eye-stone and stepped closer.
Underneath the nose chiseled with
straight lines into the gray surface, a gaping mouth showed withered
teeth. Ofelia stumbled back, when between them a winged body as thin as a
twig stirred, pointing its long, quivering
tentacles at her. Insect legs emerged from the mouth and the creature,
bigger than Ofelia’s hand, hastily scuttled up the column. Once it
reached the top, it raised its spindly front legs and started gesturing
at her. It made Ofelia smile. It seemed like such
a long time since she’d last smiled. Her lips weren’t used to it
anymore.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
The creature waved its front legs
once more and uttered a few melodic clicking sounds. Maybe it was a
cricket. Did crickets look like this? Or was it a dragonfly? Ofelia
wasn’t sure. She had been raised in a city, between
walls built from stones that had neither eyes nor faces. Nor gaping
mouths.
“Ofelia!”
The creature spread its wings.
Ofelia followed it with her eyes as it flew away. Her mother was standing
just a few steps down the road, Officer Serrano by her side.
“Look at your shoes!” her mother chided with that soft resignation her voice held so often now.
Ofelia looked down. Her damp shoes were covered with mud, but she still felt the smile on her lips.
“I think I saw a Fairy!” she said. Yes. That’s what the creature was. Ofelia was sure.
But her mother wouldn’t listen. Her
name was Carmen Cardoso, she was thirty-two years old and already a
widow and she didn’t remember how it felt to look at anything without
despising it, without being afraid of it. All
she saw was a world that took what she loved and ground it to dust
between its teeth. So as Carmen Cardoso loved her daughter, loved her
very much, she had married again. This world was ruled by men—her child
didn’t understand that yet—and only a man would
be able to keep them both safe. Ofelia’s mother didn’t know it, but she
also believed in a fairy tale. Carmen Cardoso believed the most
dangerous tale of all: the one of the prince who would save her.
The winged creature that had been
waiting for Ofelia in the column’s gaping mouth knew all of this. She
knew many things, but she was not a Fairy—at least not in the sense we
like to think of them. Only her master knew her
true name, for in the Magic Kingdom to know a name was to own the being
that carried it.
From the branch of a fir tree, she
watched Ofelia and her mother get back into the car to continue their
journey. She’d waited for this girl for a long time: this girl who had
lost so much and would have to lose so much more
to find what was rightfully hers. It wouldn’t be easy to help her, but
that was the task her master had given her, and he didn’t take it
lightly when his orders weren’t followed. Oh no, he didn’t.
Deeper and deeper into the forest
the cars drove, with the girl and the mother and the unborn child. And
the creature Ofelia had named a Fairy spread her insect wings, folded
her six spindly legs, and followed the caravan.
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