The best folklore books

Did someone say monsters? As much as I love the stories about the dark sides of human souls, there is nothing quite better than actual monsters. And this anthology packs them in, I’m talking the literal stuff of nightmares! Creatures designed by writers who obviously love monsters as much as the readers; demons with frames and features that only a mother could love. This parade of monsters was a lot to absorb in one sitting, which is the whole point of my list – collections that give you so much to dig into that it leaves you breathless. Short of being an all-out gore-fest, Monster Brawl! is so well curated that you might be surprised to find that you care about a few of them. 

This quirky little title captures a wealth of information about the deep relationship between people and bees. Ransome delves into mythology and folklore from around the world and across a huge span of history. Every page seems to offer some new and unexpected connection or story, from ancient Egyptians ferrying their honeybee hives up and down the River Nile to the Mayans cultivating a rainforest species with the agreeable trait of lacking a sting. No other book gives the reader such an exhaustive and entertaining exploration of how bees, more so than any other insect, have been part of human cultures since the dawn of civilization.

Reading H. P. Lovecraft’s best stories, I always start to feel as if I’m digging away at the accepted reality of modern man, peeling it back to reveal another, older, truer reality hidden underneath. It’s an eerie process. In that final reality, I find the Old Gods are still waiting. Over the course of the past 10,000 years, perhaps they only blinked an eye. But now, each page I turn brings them closer. That abysmal reality of the Old Gods is only hinted at in the stories – Cthulhu is a presence rather than a character – but I don’t doubt for a moment how dangerous it is, because Lovecraft makes us believe, deep down, that their return is inevitable.

Folklore and nature conservation is a subjects close to my heart. When I met my husband, an ecologist, many of our first conversations were on the importance of narrative to get people interested in conservation efforts. Folklore is the perfect tool.

This book does that job beautifully. As a piece of narrative nonfiction, it collects fairy tales, personal memoirs, and natural history in a lyrical journey through the forests of England. Maitland centers each chapter on an English woodland and the stories associated with it, be they fairy tales or history. More importantly, she discusses not only how myth shapes culture, but how landscape shapes myth. I reference it time and again not only as an academic, but as an author who creates worlds rich in landscape and folklore.

Stagolee, the bad man who will not back down, is an icon of African American mythology. His defining moment, the Christmas night murder of Billy Lyons is the subject of folk and blues songs from the turn of the twentieth century to the present day. Though many know the story, before Cecil Brown’s book, most did not realize that the story was true. On Christmas night, 1895, in St. Louis, “Stack” Lee Shelton shot Billy Lyons in a fight over a Stetson hat. Stagolee Shot Billy documents the events leading to the murder while shining a light on the culture, attitudes, and politics of the St. Louis black community in the 1890s. The shooting of Billy Lyons is a Gilded Age murder that continues to resonate.

Yap's debut collection is full of brilliant moments and haunting images. She wraps together Filipino folklore with characters who are endlessly rich and fascinating, and the result is sometimes terrifying, sometimes weird and unsettling, and always gorgeous. This book will leave you feeling as if uncanny worlds are waiting for you to discover them, just out of view. Many of these stories go to dark places, but then you stumble on a sweet tale like "A Spell For Foolish Hearts," involving a gay magician, a love potion, and a complicated relationship. You'll wish you could read this book for the first time more than once.

Although he only ever wrote one story actually set at Christmas, M. R. James and his ghost stories have become forever linked to the festive season. This began in the early 1890s when, while Provost of King’s College, Cambridge, he read his stories aloud to the undergraduate members of the college’s Chit-Chat-Club on Christmas Eve. The connection was cemented in the 1970s through Lawrence Gordon Clark’s annual adaptations for the BBC’s A Ghost Story for Christmas, of which I was a devotee. I didn’t start avidly reading James until buying this collection in the 1990s. Anyone familiar with only the TV adaptations may find James’ style takes a little getting used to, but the effort will be richly rewarded. With so many classic stories to his name, M. R. James’ reputation as the greatest ghost story writer in the English language is richly deserved. 

This anthology holds a special place in my heart. I received a copy of it as a Christmas present from my dear grandmother in 1979. Just holding it in my hands brings back so many happy memories of that long-departed lady. The book contains just eleven stories, but it is “a collection of deliciously scary fare.” Among the choice delicacies contained within its covers is the shortened version of A Christmas Carol made by Dickens for his public readings of the story, which I read in his imagined voice. Alongside anthology favourites by Hugh Walpole, Algenon Blackwood, and Jerome K. Jerome are less familiar, but equally rewarding ghostly tales by Marjorie Bowen, Oliver Onions, Margery Allingham, and others. I don’t know if it is still in print, but anyone who takes the trouble to find a copy will be richly rewarded. 

I found this book moving. On one level it is the mythology of the planet we know as Venus, from the perspective of the Maasai people. On another level it speaks to the condition of age and loneliness. And I love the illustrations, which take the reader into the landscape of East Africa and show us the humanity of the old man. Like all the best tales, it can be enjoyed by both children and adults.

For me, The Black Company opened a whole range of personalities that could “work” for fantasy—the grim, desperate men of the Company are not good men… but they’re heroes nonetheless. I found The Black Company’s focus on character over grandiose plot to be refreshing after many years of reading swollen tomes. Even better, The Black Company taught me a lot about focusing in on the relationship between men: the Company men talk like the men I know, gruff, to the point, competitive and combative even when they’re working together. It feels rough and real in a way that sticks with me even years later. As a dad and an educator, my reading time is limited; Cook gets far more across, in far less space, than many other fantasy authors.

There may not be a simpler book that paints a more complex picture of friendship as Frog and Toad. The chapters would be the perfect length for bedtime reading if the two amphibians weren’t so engrossing that both you and your young one will keep deciding on “just one more” until you’ve read them all. Frog and Toad are clever, and naïve, and sweet, and always funny.

Although magic doesn’t feature as strongly in this as the other recommendations and in the subsequent books in the series, I recommend this it cleverly disguises magic within the world, it's not showy but still believable, something which makes you think. It's also a gripping tale that connects Atlantis with the stories around King Arthur.

Part poetry, part flash fiction; part memoir, part imagination; part history, part fantasy. The Naked World is like a dream, images, and snatches of phrases wrestle with fact and trauma. It’s a story of survival, it’s a story of suffering. It’s a story of immigration, it’s a story of remaining stuck. It’s ephemeral and it stays with you. Did it happen to you? To someone else? To all of us?

“They say the people could fly. They say that long ago in Africa some of the people knew magic. And they could walk up on the air like climbin on a gate. And they flew like blackbirds over the fields.” These beautiful words and those that follow have remained in my heart from the moment I first discovered this story in Hamilton’s 1985 folktale collection. The inspiring messages of hope, faith, and the innate desire for freedom are powerfully conveyed through Hamilton’s fine storytelling and the Dillons’ elegant art. I love the feeling of triumph as “old and young who were called slaves” join hands, rise in the air, and fly away to freedom.

Golem’s illustrations are certainly not detailed in the same way as the others on this list; the imagery in this retelling of the Golem of Prague story is composed entirely of colorful cut paper, layered and woven into bold, dynamic scenes. Whereas the first four books I’ve recommended invite hours of poring over worldbuilding detail and density of information, Golem compels readers to marvel over the construction of its illustrations. How does the golem pierce through the spidery paper web of paper smoke? How are the sheets stacked to imply depth and shadow? Is this seriously all paper?! 

This intriguing mystery drew me in, especially having read the first two books of the trilogy. Lightening and Mayan folklore are the paranormal aspects, which I found to be truly unique. These themes wound through the previous books also. Dani, the main character, has a prophetic grandmother who passes on a ring purporting it will show her the way. Stories focusing on solving a mystery while drawing clues from items or family histories from the past are some of my favorite reads.

Diana Wynne Jones was a wonderful woman who always responded to my questions in a tidy hand, delighting a little boy who had made himself an author pen-pal. When a twelve-year-old Brian begged for a copy of her Fire and Hemlock—my library suffered a flood and its copy, lost—the best she could procure for the out-of-print book was a solitary copy she possessed… in Japanese. Our correspondence lasted several letters, topics ranging the gamut from life in England, the University of Oxford, and writing in general. It’s a retelling of the Scottish ballad, “Tam Lin,” and stars a strong female protagonist and an elegant take on magical realism. 

This beautifully written, beautifully illustrated, hilarious tale of an unlikely friendship is so fantastic that it spawned a beloved series! Both the words and the art will keep you and your young one engaged and giggling. The original Ivy and Bean remains my favorite, but the entire series is wonderful. Perfect early chapter books for mischievous readers.

Growing up and finding our ways in the world is a lifelong process of trials and errors. There are moments of despair and joy. Hopes can be crushed. New Dreams are born. This beloved story is one that I still think about when I see how I’m judged by all sorts as I simply mind my own life and try to find my way. In the hands of the great storyteller, Hans Christian Anderson, the metaphor of an ugly duckling becoming a gorgeous swan, tells us how overcoming our adversities will indeed help us become a beauty. Thank you Hans!

Like Golding, Garner is best known for his children’s books – tales that spring from the ancient mythology of his local Cheshire and wander into realms of high fantasy. But it is this slim novella, a collection of four stories binding as many generations of Garners (they have inhabited the region for centuries and they were, all of them - up until Alan, craftsmen, builders, laborers) that moves me to raptures. Beginning with a wide-eyed child’s discovery of cave drawings, the stories haul stone up above ground to lay out the longwalls of Garner’s mason progenitors and erect the spire of the local church, worn by Garner’s grandfather "like a dunce-cap.” The imagery and wordplay are stunning, binding dialect and landscape like a spell.