Download or read book The Magical Cuisine of Arabian Nights written by Dan Babel and published by . This book was released on 2020-12-21 with total page 94 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt: Aladdin, Sindbad, Princess Jasmine, Ali Baba and hundreds of other characters have made our childhood awesome. "Arabian Nights," a long storybook, has ruled the classic literature in almost every language. If you are a fan too, you must know how people used to throw lavish parties with an elite menu in the book. Let us delectably take you on a tour of the magical streets of Baghdad where exotic food is everywhere. This book offers you the recipes of the luxury dishes you read about in the legendary book. Some of the phenomenal foods you will find in this unique cookbook are: * Princess Jasmine's Manakeesh * Haroon-Ul-Rasheed's Shish Tawook * Princess Scheherazade's Aish el Saraya * Aladdin's favorite Mejaddra in Rice * Queen Zubaida's special recipe of Kabsa. Order this book right now to indulge in the world of ancient Arabian Nights cuisine. You will find the entire food range inspired by the legendary book. There are yummy drinks from all over the world, unique appetizers, classic lamb recipes and exotic desserts. Get your copy to explore the new world of tasty magic!

Download or read book THE ARABIAN COOKBOOK written by Nadir Ahmed and published by . This book was released on 2021-02-06 with total page 230 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt: ● 55% OFF Bookstores! NOW at 32.95 instead of 43.95! LAST DAYS!● Do you want to taste the Great and Awesome Arabian Cousine? Your Customers Never Stop to Use this Awesome Cookbook! Like any other cuisine, Middle Eastern cuisine is constantly evolving; changing with the people and landscapes. It is evolving into the best of its kind, incorporating ingredients from different regions like South East Asia and adapting its recipes to the latest researches and trends. Experience Arab cuisine with traditional dishes from Lebanon, Morocco, Iraq, and Egypt and delight in the rich textures, aromas, and flavors of the Middle East. Filled with a bountiful range of dishes, the book features simple recipes that will make preparing these delectable meals as enjoyable as consuming them. Prepare classics like baba ghanoush, hummus, falafel, and baklava, as well as more exotic dishes, such as dolmades stuffed with rice, squid in ink, sour chicken with sumac, and walnuts, and fig marmalade with grape molasses. In this book you will find: Many basic recipes Appetizers Salads Soups Meat dishes Fish dishes Vegetarian dishes Desserts Drinks Buy it NOW and let your customers get addicted to this amazing book!

Download or read book Magical Tales of the Arabian Nights written by Luis S. R. Vas and published by Jaico Publishing House. This book was released on 2017-01-21 with total page 272 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt:

Download or read book Stranger Magic written by Marina Warner and published by Harvard University Press. This book was released on 2012-03-03 with total page 577 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt: Our foremost theorist of myth, fairytale, and folktale explores the magical realm of the imagination where carpets fly and genies grant prophetic wishes. Stranger Magic examines the profound impact of the Arabian Nights on the West, the progressive exoticization of magic, and the growing acceptance of myth and magic in contemporary experience.

Download or read book Arabian Nights Cookbook written by Habeeb Salloum and published by Tuttle Publishing. This book was released on 2012-02-28 with total page 163 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt: **2011 Best Arab Cuisine book in the U.S., Gourmand World Cookbook Award** Prepare delicious and healthy meals with this award-winning Arabian cookbook For untold centuries, the Bedouin of the Arabian Peninsula, in their desert tents, have served their honored guests lavish meals featuring roasted lamb with rice. Bedouin hospitality has not changed over the ages, but Arabian cuisine has undergone a remarkable evolution in the last 100 years, making it extremely diverse. This diversity is due, in part, to the explosion of wealth on the Arabian peninsula which has drawn people--along with their foods and cooking methods--from around the world. The blending of these culinary worlds has produced something remarkable. In The Arabian Nights Cookbook, author Habeeb Salloum has compiled an amazing array of recipes that celebrate this blending of cultures while still making it compatible with the everyday kitchens of the Western world. From the familiar, Hummus Bi-Tahini, to the unique, Stuffed Lamb, Salloum offers an accessible world of savory tastes and memory provoking aromas. Authentic Arabian recipes include: Classic Hummus Chickpea Puree Spicy Eggplant Salad Hearty Meat and Bulghur Soup Tandoori Chicken, Omani-Style Golden Meat Turnovers Fish Fillets in an Aromatic Red Sauce Spicy Falafel Patties Delicious Stuffed Zucchini Cardamom Fritters with Walnuts in Orange-Blossom Syrup Real Arab Coffee Made Just Right And many more…

Download or read book Tales from the Arabian Nights written by Donna Jo Napoli and published by National Geographic Books. This book was released on 2016 with total page 212 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt: A collection of tales told by Scheherazade to amuse the cruel sultan and stop him from executing her as he had his other daily wives.

Download or read book The Annotated Arabian Nights Tales from 1001 Nights written by Paulo Lemos Horta and published by Liveright Publishing. This book was released on 2021-11-16 with total page 986 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt: “[A]n electric new translation . . . Each page is adorned with illustrations and photographs from other translations and adaptations of the tales, as well as a wonderfully detailed cascade of notes that illuminate the stories and their settings. . . . The most striking feature of the Arabic tales is their shifting registers—prose, rhymed prose, poetry—and Seale captures the movement between them beautifully.” —Yasmine Al-Sayyad, New Yorker A magnificent and richly illustrated volume—with a groundbreaking translation framed by new commentary and hundreds of images—of the most famous story collection of all time. A cornerstone of world literature and a monument to the power of storytelling, the Arabian Nights has inspired countless authors, from Charles Dickens and Edgar Allan Poe to Naguib Mahfouz, Clarice Lispector, and Angela Carter. Now, in this lavishly designed and illustrated edition of The Annotated Arabian Nights, the acclaimed literary historian Paulo Lemos Horta and the brilliant poet and translator Yasmine Seale present a splendid new selection of tales from the Nights, featuring treasured original stories as well as later additions including “Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp” and “Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves,” and definitively bringing the Nights out of Victorian antiquarianism and into the twenty-first century. For centuries, readers have been haunted by the homicidal King Shahriyar, thrilled by gripping tales of Sinbad’s seafaring adventures, and held utterly, exquisitely captive by Shahrazad’s stories of passionate romances and otherworldly escapades. Yet for too long, the English-speaking world has relied on dated translations by Richard Burton, Edward Lane, and other nineteenth-century adventurers. Seale’s distinctly contemporary and lyrical translations break decisively with this masculine dynasty, finally stripping away the deliberate exoticism of Orientalist renderings while reclaiming the vitality and delight of the stories, as she works with equal skill in both Arabic and French. Included within are famous tales, from “The Story of Sinbad the Sailor” to “The Story of the Fisherman and the Jinni,” as well as lesser-known stories such as “The Story of Dalila the Crafty,” in which the cunning heroine takes readers into the everyday life of merchants and shopkeepers in a crowded metropolis, and “The Story of the Merchant and the Jinni,” an example of a ransom frame tale in which stories are exchanged to save a life. Grounded in the latest scholarship, The Annotated Arabian Nights also incorporates the Hanna Diyab stories, for centuries seen as French forgeries but now acknowledged, largely as a result of Horta’s pathbreaking research, as being firmly rooted in the Arabic narrative tradition. Horta not only takes us into the astonishing twists and turns of the stories’ evolution. He also offers comprehensive notes on just about everything readers need to know to appreciate the tales in context, and guides us through the origins of ghouls, jinn, and other supernatural elements that have always drawn in and delighted readers. Beautifully illustrated throughout with art from Europe and the Arab and Persian world, the latter often ignored in English-language editions, The Annotated Arabian Nights expands the visual dimensions of the stories, revealing how the Nights have always been—and still are—in dialogue with fine artists. With a poignant autobiographical foreword from best-selling novelist Omar El Akkad and an illuminating afterword on the Middle Eastern roots of Hanna Diyab’s tales from noted scholar Robert Irwin, Horta and Seale have created a stunning edition of the Arabian Nights that will enchant and inform both devoted and novice readers alike.

Download or read book The Arabian Nights Cookbook written by Habeeb Salloum and published by . This book was released on 2010 with total page 160 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt: Features recipes for popular Arabian dishes, desserts, and drinks, along with an overview of the foods and kitchen utensils commonly used in the region.

Download or read book The Sixteen Pleasures written by Robert Hellenga and published by Delta. This book was released on 1995-05-01 with total page 386 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt: Chapter One Where I Want to Be I was twenty-nine years old when the Arno flooded its banks on Friday 4 November 1966. According to the Sunday New York Times the damage wasn't extensive, but by Monday it was clear that Florence was a disaster. Twenty feet of water in the cloisters of Santa Croce, the Cimabue crucifix ruined beyond hope of restoration, panels ripped from the Baptistry doors, the basement of the Biblioteca Nazionale completely underwater, hundreds of thousands of volumes waterlogged, the Archivio di Stato in total disarray. On Tuesday I decided to go to Italy, to offer my services as a humble book conservator, to help in any way I could, to save whatever could be saved, including myself. The decision wasn't a popular one at home. Papa was having money troubles of his own and didn't want to pay for a ticket. And my boss at the Newberry Library didn't understand either. He already had his ticket, paid for by the library, and needed me to mind the store. There wasn't any point in both of us going, was there? "The why don't I go and you can mind the store?" "Because, because, because . . ." "Yes?" Because it just didn't make sense. He couldn't see his way clear to granting me a leave of absence, not even a leave of absence without pay. He even suggested that the library might have to replace me, in which case . . . But I decided to go anyway. I had enough money in my savings account for a ticket on Icelandic, and I figured I could live on the cheap once I got there. Besides, I wanted to break the mold in which my life was hardening, and I thought this might be a way to do it. Going to Florence was better than waiting around with nothing coming up. My English teacher at Kenwood High used to say that we're like onions: you can peel off one layer after another and never get to a center, an inner core. You just run out of layers. But I think I'm like a peach or an apricot or a nectarine. There's a pit at the center. I can crack my teeth on it, or I can suck on it like a piece of candy; but it won't crumble, and it won't dissolve. The pit is an image of myself when I was nineteen. I'm in Sardegna, and I'm standing high up on a large rock–a cliff, actually–and I don't have any clothes on, and everyone is looking at me, telling me to come down, not to jump, it's too high. It's my second time in Italy. I spent a year here with Mama when I was fifteen, and then I came back by myself, after finishing high school at home, to do the last year of the liceo with my former classmates. Now we're celebrating the end of our examinations–Silvia (who spent a year with us in Chicago), Claudia, Rossella, Giulio, Fabio, Alessandro. Names like flowers, or bells. And me, Margot Harrington. More friends are coming later. Silvia's parents (my host family) have a summer house just outside Terranova, but we're camping on the beach, five kilometers down the coast. The coast is safe, they say, though there are bandits in the centro. Wow! It's my birthday–August first–and we've had a supper of bluefish and squid that we caught with a net. The squid taste like rubber bands, the heavy kind that I used to chew on in grade school and that boys sometimes used to snap our bottoms with in junior high. Life is sharp and snappy, too, full of promise, like the sting of those rubber bands: I've passed my examinations with distinction; I'm going to Harvard in the fall (well, to Radcliffe); I've got an Italian boyfriend named Fabio Fabbriani; and I've just been skinny-dipping in the stinging cold salt sea. The others have put their clothes on now–I can see them below me, sitting around the remains of the fire in shorts and halter tops and shirts with the sleeves rolled up two turns, talking, glancing up nervously–but I want to savor the taste/thrill of my own nakedness a little longer, unembarrassed in the dwindling light. It's the scariest thing I've ever done, except coming to Italy in the first place. Fabio sits with his back toward me while he smokes a cigarette, pretending to be angry because I won't come down, but when I close my eyes and will him to turn, he puts his cigarette out in the sand and turns. Just at that moment I jump, sucking in my breath for a scream but then holding it, in case I need it latter, which I do. I hit the Tyrrhenian Sea feet first, generating little waves that will, in theory, soon be lapping the beaches along the entire western coast of Italy–Sicily and North Africa, too. The Tyrrhenian Sea responds by closing over me and it's pitch, not like the pool in Chicago where I learned to swim, but deep and dark and dangerous and deadly. The air in my lungs–the scream and I saved for just such an occasion–carries me up to the surface, and I strike out for the cove, meeting Fabio before I'm halfway there, wondering if like me he's naked under the water and not knowing for sure till we're walking waist deep and he takes me by the shoulders and kisses me and I can feel something bobbing against my legs like a floating cork. We haven't made love yet, but it's won't be long now. O dio mio. The waiting is so lovely. He squeezes my buns and I squeeze his, surprised, and then we splash in to the beach and put on our clothes. What I didn't know at the time was that my mother had become seriously ill. Instead of spending the rest of the summer in Sardegna, I had to go back to Chicago, and then, after that, nothing happened. I mean none of the things I'd expected to happen happened. Instead of making love with Fabio Fabbriani on the verge of the Tyrrhenian Sea, I got laid on a vinyl sofa in the back room of the SNCC headquarters on Forty-seventh Street. Instead of going to Harvard, I went to Edgar Lee Masters College, where Mama had taught art history for twenty years. Instead of going to graduate school I spent two years at the Institute for Paper Technology on Green Bay Avenue; instead of becoming a research chemist I apprenticed myself to a book conservator in Hyde Park and then took a position in the conservation department of the Newberry Library. Instead of getting married and having a daughter of my own, I lived at home and looked after Mama, who was dying of lung cancer. A year went by, two years, three years, four. Mama died; Papa lost most of his money. My sister Meg got married and moved away; my sister Molly went to California with her boyfriend and then to Ann Arbor. The sixties were churning around me, and I couldn't seem to get a footing. I tried to plunge in, to get wet, to catch hold, to find a place in one of the boats tossing and turning on the white-water rapids: the sit-ins, the rock concerts, the freedom rides, SNCC, CORE, SDS, the Civil Rights Act, the Great Society. I spent a lot of time holding hands and singing "We shall overcome," I spent a lot of time buying coffee and doughnuts and rolling joints, and I spent some time on my back, too–the only position for a woman in the Movement. I'd had no sleep on the plane; my eyes were blurry so it was hard to read; and besides, the story I was reading was as depressing as the view from the window of the train–flat, gray, poor, dreary, actively ugly rather than passively uninteresting. And I kept thinking about Papa and his money troubles and his lawsuits, and about the embroidered seventeenth-century prayer books on my work table at the Newberry that needed to be disbound, washed, mended, and resewn before Christmas for an exhibit sponsored by the Caxton Club. So I was under a certain amount of pressure. I was looking for a sign, the way some religious people look for signs, something to let them know they're on the right track. Or on the wrong track, in which case they can turn back. I didn't know what I was looking for, but I was trying to pay attention, to notice everything–the faces of the two American women sitting opposite me in the compartment, scribbling furiously in their notebooks; the Neapolitan accent of the Italian conductor; the depressing French farmhouses, gray boxes of stucco or cinder block, I couldn't make out which. That's what I was doing–paying attention–when the train pulled into the station at Metz and I saw the Saint-Cyr cadet on the platform, bright as the Archangel Gabriel bringing the good news to the Virgin Mary. I'd better explain. Papa did all the cooking in our family. He started when Mama went to Italy one summer when I was nine–it was right after the war–to look at the pictures, to see for herself what she'd only seen in the Harvard University Prints series and on old three-by-four-inch tinted slides that she used to project on the dining room wall; and when she came back he kept on doing it. My sisters and I did the dishes and Papa took care of everything else, day in and day out, and whether it was Italian or French or Chinese or Malaysian, it was always wonderful, it was always special. Penne alla puttanesca, an arista tied with sprigs of rosemary, paper-thin strips of beef marinated in hoisin sauce and Szechwan peppercorns, whole fresh salmon poached in white wine and finished with a mustard sauce, chicken thighs simmered in soy sauce and lime juice, curries so fiery that at their first bite unwary guests would clutch their throats and cry out for water, which didn't help a bit. Those were our favorites, the standards against which we measured other dishes; but our very favorite treat of all was the dessert Papa made on our birthdays, instead of cake, which was supposed to look like the hats worn by cadets at Saint-Cyr, the French military academy. We'd never been to Saint-Cyr, of course, but we would have recognized a cadet anywhere in the world, if he'd been wearing his hat. That's why I was so startled when I looked out the window of the Luxembourg-Venise Express and saw my cadet standing there on the platform–the young man Papa had teased me about, the Prince Charming who had never materialized. He was holding a suitcase in one hand and shifting his weight back and forth from one foot to the other, as if he had to go to the bathroom, and his parents were talking at him so intensely that I thought for a minute he was going to miss the train. And his hat! I couldn't believe it was a real hat and not a frozen mousse of chocolate and egg whites and whipped cream with squiggly Italian meringues running up and down the sides for braids. That hat stirred something inside me, made me feel I was doing the right thing and that I ought to keep going, that things would work out. Just to make sure I closed my eyes and willed him into the compartment, just as I had once willed Fabio Fabbriani to turn and watch me plunge feet first into the sea. As I was willing him into the compartment I was willing the American women out of it–not making my cadet's appearance contingent on their departure, however, because I was pretty sure they weren't going to budge. I kept my face down in my book and waited, eyes closed lightly, listening to the noises in the corridor. I was, I suppose, still operating, at least subconsciously, on a fairy-tale model of reality: I was Sleeping Beauty, or Snow White, waiting for some prince whose romantic kisses would awaken my full feelings, liberate my story senses, emancipate my drowsy and constrained imagination, take me back to that last Italian summer. The train was already in motion when the door of the compartment finally opened. I kept my eyes closed another two seconds and then looked up at–not my Prince Charming but the Neapolitan conductor, an old man so frail I'd had to help him hoist the American women's mammoth suitcases onto the overhead luggage rack. These suitcases were to luggage what Burberrys are to rainwear–lots of extra pockets and straps and mysterious zippers concealed under flaps. I asked him about the Saint-Cyr cadet. "The next compartment," he said. "Not your type. Too young. You need an older man like me." "You're already married." He shrugged, putting his whole body into it, arms, hands, shoulders, head cocked, stomach pulled in. "Better tell your friends"–we were speaking in Italian–"that the dining car will be taken off the train before we cross the border. You need to reserve a seat early." I nodded. "Unless," he went on, "they have those valises stuffed with American food. Porcamattina." He glanced upward at the suitcases, tapped his cheekbone with an index finger and was gone. I felt for these American women some of the mixed feelings that the traveler feels for the tourist. On the one hand you want to help, to show off your knowledge; on the other you don't want to get involved. I didn't want to get involved. They weren't my type. These were saltwater women–sailors, golfers, tennis players, clubwomen with suntans in November, large limbed, confident, conspicuous, firm, trim, sleek as walruses in their worsted wool suits. They reminded me of the Gold Coast women who used to show up around the edges of CORE demonstrations, with their checkbooks open, telling us how much they admired what we were doing, and how they wished they could help more. All fucked up ideologically, according to our leaders at SNCC: "They think their shit don't stink." As far as they knew, I was a scruffy little Italian–I hadn't spoken a word of English in their presence, and I was reading an Italian novel–and it was too late to undeceive them. I had heard too much. I knew, for example, that they'd met the previous summer at some kind of writing workshop at Johns Hopkins University and that they'd both jumped into the sack with their instructor, a novelist named Philip. I knew that Philip was bald but well hung ("like a shillelagh"). I knew that neither of them had done it dog fashion BP ("before Philip") and that they were traveling second class because Philip had told them they'd get more material that way for the stories they were going to write now that they were divorced. Part of their agenda, I gathered, was to notice things, to pay attention. Maybe they were looking for signs, too, maybe not; in either case they seemed to be trying to impress the details of European railroad travel onto the pages of their marbled composition books by sheer physical force. Nothing escaped their notice, not even the signs, in French, German and Italian, warning passengers not to throw things out the window and not to pull the cord on the signal d'alarme. All the details went into their notebooks–the fine of not less than 5,000 FF, the prison term of not less than one year. And when one noticed something, the other did, too: the instructions on the window latch, the way the armrests worked, the captions on the faded views of Chartres Cathedral that hung on the walls of the compartment above the backs of the seats. (I was tempted to look at them myself, but I didn't want to give myself away or interrupt their game.) I kept my nose in my book–Natalia Ginzburg's Lessico famigliare. It was a strenuous hour, and I was glad when, simultaneously, panting like dogs after a good run, they closed their notebooks and resumed their conversation.

Download or read book Scheherazade s Feasts written by Habeeb Salloum and published by University of Pennsylvania Press. This book was released on 2013-08-08 with total page 233 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt: The author of the thirteenth-century Arabic cookbook Kitāb al-Ṭabīkh proposed that food was among the foremost pleasures in life. Scheherazade's Feasts invites adventurous cooks to test this hypothesis. From the seventh to the thirteenth centuries, the influence and power of the medieval Islamic world stretched from the Middle East to the Iberian Peninsula, and this Golden Age gave rise to great innovation in gastronomy no less than in science, philosophy, and literature. The medieval Arab culinary empire was vast and varied: with trade and conquest came riches, abundance, new ingredients, and new ideas. The emergence of a luxurious cuisine in this period inspired an extensive body of literature: poets penned lyrics to the beauty of asparagus or the aroma of crushed almonds; nobles documented the dining customs obliged by etiquette and opulence; manuals prescribed meal plans to deepen the pleasure of eating and curtail digestive distress. Drawn from this wealth of medieval Arabic writing, Scheherazade's Feasts presents more than a hundred recipes for the foods and beverages of a sophisticated and cosmopolitan empire. The recipes are translated from medieval sources and adapted for the modern cook, with replacements suggested for rare ingredients such as the first buds of the date tree or the fat rendered from the tail of a sheep. With the guidance of prolific cookbook writer Habeeb Salloum and his daughters, historians Leila and Muna, these recipes are easy to follow and deliciously appealing. The dishes are framed with verse inspired by them, culinary tips, and tales of the caliphs and kings whose courts demanded their royal preparation. To contextualize these selections, a richly researched introduction details the foodscape of the medieval Islamic world.

Download or read book Arabian Nights Kitchen written by Coledown Kitchen and published by . This book was released on 2023-08-02 with total page 0 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt: Are you ready to embark on a mouthwatering adventure to the heart of the Middle East? Open the pages of Arabian Nights Kitchen: Middle Eastern Delights, and get ready to be enchanted by the flavors, and aromas of this captivating cuisine! Step into a world of flavor and fantasy as we whisk you away to the bustling bazaars and mystical kitchens of the Middle East. Arabian Nights Kitchen promises to be a magical journey of flavors, traditions, and unforgettable moments shared with loved ones. So, grab your apron, and let the culinary adventures begin! Let the charm of the Middle East fill your home as you create delightful dishes that will leave everyone craving more.

Download or read book Marvellous Thieves written by Paulo Lemos Horta and published by Harvard University Press. This book was released on 2017-01-16 with total page 374 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt: Ranging from the coffeehouses of Aleppo to the salons of Paris, from Calcutta to London, Paulo Lemos Horta introduces the poets and scholars, pilgrims and charlatans who made largely unacknowledged contributions to Arabian Nights. Each version betrays the distinctive cultural milieu in which it was produced.

Download or read book In Arabian Nights written by Tahir Shah and published by Bantam. This book was released on 2007-12-26 with total page 400 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt: Tahir Shah’s The Caliph’s House, describing his first year in Casablanca, was hailed by critics and compared to such travel classics as A Year in Provence and Under the Tuscan Sun. Now Shah takes us deeper into the heart of this exotic and magical land to uncover mysteries that have been hidden from Western eyes for centuries.… In this entertaining and penetrating book, Tahir sets out on a bold new journey across Morocco that becomes an adventure worthy of the mythical Arabian Nights. As he wends his way through the labyrinthine medinas of Fez and Marrakesh, traverses the Sahara sands, and tastes the hospitality of ordinary Moroccans, Tahir collects a dazzling treasury of traditional stories, gleaned from the heritage of A Thousand and One Nights. The tales, recounted by a vivid cast of characters, reveal fragments of wisdom and an oriental way of thinking that is both enthralling and fresh. A link in the chain of scholars and teachers who have passed these stories down for centuries like a baton in a relay race, Shah reaches layers of culture that most visitors hardly realize exist, and eventually discovers the story living in his own heart. Along the way he describes the colors, characters, and the passion of Morocco, and comes to understand why it is such an enchanting land. From master masons who labor only at night to Sufi wise men who write for soap operas, and Tuareg guides afflicted by reality TV, In Arabian Nights takes us on an unforgettable journey, shining a light on facets of a society that are normally left in darkness.

Download or read book The Arabian Nights written by Padraic Colum and published by . This book was released on 1923 with total page 426 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt: Selections from the over 600 stories which, according to legend, Shaharazad told a mighty king as a way to save the lives of the girls of her land. Includes stories of the voyages of Es-Sindibad, the magic horse, the wonderful lamp, and Ali Baba and the thieves.

Download or read book One Thousand and One Nights written by Hanan Al-Shaykh and published by A&C Black. This book was released on 2011-08-15 with total page 306 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt: The Arab world's greatest folk stories re-imagined by the acclaimed Lebanese novelist Hanan al-Shaykh, published to coincide with the world tour of a magnificent musical and theatrical production directed by Tim Supple

Download or read book Stories from the Arabian Nights written by and published by London : Hodder and Stoughton. This book was released on 1907 with total page 264 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt:

Download or read book The Arabian Nights written by Wafa' Tarnowska and published by . This book was released on 2015-03-31 with total page 0 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt: Lebanese author Wafa' Tarnowska opens a window into the Arab world with her magnificent new translation of eight stories from 'A Thousand and One Nights'. With bright, lush, stylized acrylic illustrations, this collection of eight stories from 'A Thousand and One Nights' is designed for reading aloud, but in contrast to many watered-down versions, these tales may find their best audience with older elementary students and middle-schoolers. The long introductory story, Shahriyar Meets Shahrazade, tells of the shah's discovery of his beloved wife's betrayal and his shocking decision to marry a new bride every day and then order her death. Then he meets and marries Shahrazade, who persuades Shahriyar to keep her alive by telling him a riveting story each night. This edition is notable for combining favourites such as Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp with less familiar tales such as The Diamond Anklet and The Speaking Bird and the Singing Tree Throughout, the spacious paintings capture the sense of the supernatural in daily life, including magical images of people taking flight above city, trees, and desert. A chapter book AGES: 9-12 Colour illustrations