Eastern Tales by Many Story Tellers

The Story

The tapestry of these tales begins in Bagdad with Jalaladdeen, a young man raised in modest, quiet obscurity. His life is transformed when he encounters three brothers who lead him to an iron-bound chest. Through a series of curious rituals involving a lion’s tail, an eagle’s wing, and a precious, oily unguent that grants him unnatural vigor, he unlocks the chest to find a rare onyx gem. This stone, once worn, reveals his true heritage: he is a prince destined to reclaim his father’s throne. His journey out of shadow and into the light of his own sovereignty sets the tone for a collection where the boundaries between the mundane and the miraculous are constantly dissolving.

The narrative scope broadens to include the trials of Haschem, who navigates the treacherous waters of kidnapping and sorcery to rescue the Princess Handa. Haschem is no mere warrior; he possesses the art of a magician, capable of turning the profoundest grief of King Kadga Singa into sudden, overwhelming joy. Yet, even as heroes succeed, others find themselves drawn into darker realms. The story of Jochonan, a Rabbi who encounters a city of demons known as the Mazikin, serves as a sobering counterpoint. Here, the glittering wealth of a magnificent city hides a hollow, painful existence for its inhabitants, revealing that some destinations are traps for those who have stumbled into sin.

The collection then shifts to the mercantile world of Jussuf of Balsora, whose travels are less about geography and more about the strange, deceptive nature of human connection. Through encounters in Shiraz and beyond, Jussuf finds himself entangled with enigmatic figures—some benevolent, others manipulative—who use the language of commerce to mask deeper agendas. These stories often feature characters who must survive by their wits while being buffeted by the whims of enchanters and the rigid, sometimes cruel, demands of royal decree.

As the collection reaches its middle, the stakes grow increasingly personal and cosmic. The tales of Misnar, the Sultan of India, bring to the fore the struggle against the enchanter Ollomand and the usurper Ahubal. Misnar’s path is one of constant peril, where he must rely on the loyalty of his Vizier, Horam, and his own unwavering faith in a power higher than any mortal magic. His journey emphasizes the burden of leadership, where every decision is scrutinized and every alliance is potentially a betrayal.

This sense of precariousness is echoed in the history of the Seven Sleepers, whose long slumber in a cave spans generations, only to have their peaceful rest interrupted by the harsh, violent reality of a bygone tyrant, Dakianos. His eventual downfall at the hands of a supernatural serpent serves as a stark moral anchor, suggesting that even the most oppressive reign must eventually confront its own hubris.

The final movements of the book follow the fates of those like Hemjunah, the "Fair Wanderer," and the long-lost Alischar and Smaragdine. These stories focus on the restoration of domestic peace after long periods of exile and enchantment. Whether through the patience of Abosaber, whose stoicism in the face of absolute loss becomes a virtue that eventually leads to his elevation, or the eventual reunion of lovers, the conclusion of these tales emphasizes that grace is often found when one stops fighting the inevitable and instead learns to navigate it with quiet resolve.

The People

• Jalaladdeen: A sturdy, modest youth who grows up in a garden suburb, unaware of his royal blood until magical intervention forces him to accept his destiny as a king.
• Haschem: A resourceful and mysterious youth who uses his mastery of magical arts to navigate through the courts of kings and the ships of enchanters, serving as a restorer of broken families.
• Misnar: The Sultan of India, a ruler characterized by his humility and his recognition that his strength is not in his armies or his crown, but in his alignment with a divine, higher power.
• Abosaber: A man of profound, perhaps impossible, patience; he loses his children, fortune, and wife, yet refuses to despair, believing that his suffering is a necessary step in a larger, hidden plan.
• Smaragdine: A resilient and loving woman who, after being lost to her beloved Alischar, eventually chooses the quiet, authentic life of love and peace over the empty, performative grandeur of royal status.

In Its Own Voice

When the sorcerous reality of the world presses in on those who seek only a normal life, the internal conflict is sharp:

"Bennaskar," said I, "has for a month appeared as an angel before me; but one base action has deformed all his former purity."

The tension between the public face of a person and their hidden, often darker, motivations is a recurring theme:

"The enemies of Misnar," said the Sultan, as the Vizier Horam ended his report, "are many, and one only is his friend!"

Even in the midst of extreme adversity, the characters are often forced to confront the limits of their own understanding:

"I have been the instrument of a mean revenge on a helpless woman, and now I yet delay to inform the Cadi of the villanies of this house of enchantment."

What It's Really About

These tales explore the precariousness of human identity when placed within a world governed by arbitrary, often supernatural, forces. The central argument is that one’s true worth is rarely defined by social standing or wealth, but by a consistent internal architecture of patience, faith, and moral clarity. A character like Abosaber does not triumph because he is powerful; he triumphs because he remains uncorrupted by the chaos visited upon him. The book posits that the world is a place of illusions—where a merchant might be a prince in disguise, or a beautiful garden might hide a trap-door to a dungeon—and the only way to survive such instability is to cling to one's own integrity.

There is a distinct preoccupation with the concept of the "hidden truth." In every story, there is a layer of reality that is obscured by masks, enchantments, or the simple blindness of others. Misnar’s reliance on his vizier while his enemies surround him highlights the necessity of discernment; he must distinguish between the appearance of loyalty and the reality of intent. This thematic focus extends to the domestic sphere, where the relationship between parent and child, or husband and wife, is frequently tested by separation. The "lost child" or the "stolen princess" is not merely a plot device but an exploration of the fragility of the bonds that define us.

Furthermore, the book is concerned with the idea of providence. It suggests that while the characters are often helpless against the whims of sorcerers or the political machinations of sultans, there is an underlying order to their suffering. Patience is not presented as a passive surrender, but as an active form of resistance against the cruelty of fate. When characters like Abosaber or Jalaladdeen refuse to react with impulsive rage, they align themselves with a cosmic rhythm that eventually corrects the imbalance of their lives. The book does not argue that the world is inherently fair, but rather that it is responsive to the character of those who inhabit it. The villains—the enchanters and the tyrants—are ultimately undone by their own impatience and their inability to see beyond their own immediate, selfish desires, whereas the heroes are those who learn to endure.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate the dreamlike, episodic structure of folklore will find much to admire here. There is a distinct, rhythmic quality to the prose that feels like a window into a past way of storytelling—one that is not concerned with modern pacing or psychological realism, but with the moral weight of a decision and the sudden, dramatic turns of fortune. It feels less like a novel and more like a series of instructional fables told by a fire.

However, the modern reader should be prepared for the distance of the period. The attitudes toward gender, the nature of authority, and the swift, often brutal, implementation of royal justice reflect the time of their collection, which may strike a contemporary reader as stark or simplified. There is little time spent on the internal monologue of characters; instead, the focus is almost entirely on the action. Characters are often defined by their titles or their immediate predicament rather than a complex, layered history.

Despite this, there is an undeniable pleasure in the book’s unwavering commitment to the "wonder-stone" sensibility. It rewards those who are willing to suspend their need for modern complexity and instead embrace a world where a drop of lion fat can change a life, and where a stranger’s kindness can bridge the distance between a dungeon and a throne. It leaves the reader with a lingering sense of the fluidity of life—the idea that our present circumstances, no matter how dire or how magnificent, are perhaps only a temporary chapter in a much longer, more mysterious journey. It is a book for those who want to feel the weight of age-old morality tales, delivered with a warmth that suggests the teller knows just how much we all need to believe that patience and virtue have their own quiet, inevitable rewards.