The Neverending Story

by Michael Ende

‘You can’t look for the Old Man of Wandering Mountain. You can only find him.’

Her answer puzzled Atreyu. Hesitantly he asked: ‘Is he — is he like you?’ ‘He is like me,’ she replied, ‘because he is my opposite in every way.’

Little by little, she made out a faint reddish glow in the darkness. It came from an open book, which hovered in midair at the center of the egg-shaped room. It was tilted in such a way that she could see the binding, which was of copper-colored silk, and on the binding, as on the Gem, which the Childlike Empress wore around her neck, she saw an oval formed by two snakes biting each other’s tail. Inside this oval was printed the title: The Neverending Story

On the other side of the hovering book she now saw a man’s face. It was bathed in a bluish light. The light came from the print of the book, which was bluish green. The man’s face was as deeply furrowed as if it had been carved in the bark of an ancient tree. His beard was long and white, and his eyes were so deep in their sockets that she could not see them. He was wearing a dark monk’s robe with a hood, and in his hand he was holding a stylus, with which he was writing in the book. He did not look up.

he's an ipad kid

Close to fainting, he suddenly cried out: ‘Moon Child, I’m coming!’

It blew from the pages of the book that Bastian was holding on his knees, and the pages began to flutter wildly. Bastian felt the wind in his hair and face. He could scarcely breathe. The candle flames in the seven-armed candelabrum danced, wavered, and lay flat. Then another, still more violent wind blew into the book, and the candles went out. The clock in the belfry struck twelve.

‘Fantastica will be born again from your wishes, my Bastian. Through me they will become reality.’

‘From my wishes?’ Bastian repeated in amazement. He heard the sweet voice reply: ‘You know they call me the Commander of Wishes. What will you wish?’

ohhhhhh

‘The moment is forever,’ she replied. Bastian was silent. He didn’t understand what she had said, but he was in no mood to puzzle it out. He wanted only to sit there looking at her.

i'm glad it's not just me

But that didn’t matter now. What mattered was that the words gave him permission, ordered him in fact, to do whatever he pleased.

ummmmmm

Bastian was delighted at being handsome. It didn’t bother him that there was no one to admire him. On the contrary, he was glad to have the pleasure all to himself. He didn’t care a fig for being admired by the lugs who had always made fun of him. If he thought of them at all, it was almost with pity.

bastian you just made me gufaw

But little by little his pleasure in being handsome underwent a change. He began to take it for granted. Not that he was any less happy about it; but now he had the feeling that he had never been any different.

Bastian shouted for joy. He was the Lord of the Jungle!

okay Tarzan

The sun, which had risen in the meantime, disclosed a vision of devastation. Hardly anything was left of all the enormous night plants. More quickly than they had sprung up they crumbled under the glaring sunlight into dust and fine, colored sand. Gigantic tree trunks collapsed as sand castles do when they dry out. Bastian’s tree seemed to be the last still standing.

And so on from horizon to horizon. And between the hills, separating color from color, flowed streams of gold and silver sand.

He forgot that he had once been a namby-pamby, something of a crybaby, in fact.

OKAY

‘This, master, is my palace — and my tomb,’

‘Oh!’ Bastian cried. ‘I thought you had turned to stone.’ ‘So I had,’ the lion replied. ‘I die with every nightfall, and every morning I wake up again.’ ‘I thought it was forever,’ said Bastian. ‘It always is forever,’ said Grograman mysteriously.

‘Master,’ the lion replied calmly. ‘Didn’t you know that Fantastica is the land of stories? A story can be new and yet tell about olden times. The past comes into existence with the story.’

‘Here there is only life and death, only Perilin and Goab, but no story. You must live your story. You cannot remain here.’

‘You must go from wish to wish. What you don’t wish for will always be beyond your reach. That is what the words ‘far’ and ‘near’ mean in Fantastica. And wishing to leave a place is not enough. You must wish to go somewhere else and let your wishes guide you.’

‘Every door in Fantastica,’ said the lion, ‘even the most ordinary stable, kitchen, or cupboard door, can become the entrance to the Temple of a Thousand Doors at the right moment. And none of these thousand doors leads back to where one came from. There is no return.’

At this time another change took place in Bastian. Since his meeting with Moon Child he had received many gifts. Now he was favored with a new one: courage. And again something was taken away from him, namely, the memory of his past timidity.

Bastian didn’t know that he would not keep his promise. Much much later someone would come in his name and keep it for him. But that’s another story and shall be told another time.

‘When a person is only half an ass like me, and not a complete one, she senses certain things.

‘You saw me. I know that. But I’ve always been the way I am now.’ ‘Really and truly?’ ‘I should know. Shouldn’t I?’ Bastian cried. ‘Yes,’ said Atreyu, looking at him thoughtfully. ‘YOU should know.’

‘I brought you to Fantastica,’ said Atreyu. ‘I think I ought to help you find the way back to your own world. You mean to go back sooner or later, don’t you?’

And since it was Bastian who led the way, they were actually going deeper and deeper into Fantastica, heading for the Ivory Tower at its very center. What the consequences for him would be, he wouldn’t learn until much later.

His memory had been broken into bits, and the bits seemed as vague and far away as if they had concerned an entirely different person.

oh, this book is actually about me.

All afternoon they rode through the dark-green twilight.

hoa hoa hoa

Then he added casually: ‘By the way, we’re being followed.’

lol

The air was warm and heavy with the strange and none too pleasant scent of the orchids. That scent seemed fraught with evil.

‘If that’s the case,’ said Atreyu, ‘wouldn’t it be more sensible to change our direction?’ ‘No,’ said Bastian. ‘But there’s no reason why we should tangle with this Xayide. I think we should steer clear of her.’ ‘There is a reason,’ said Bastian. ‘What reason?’ ‘Because I feel like it,’ said Bastian. Atreyu looked at him openmouthed.

my jaw? on the floor.

‘Some more of your good advice?’ said Bastian with a sardonic smile.

this is all coming from a 10/12 yr old btw

In case you’ve forgotten, I saved Fantastica,

boy...

You don’t know me yet, but if you go on like this – you’ll get to know me.’

In the distance Horok Castle rose up from the orchid forest. It really did look like a giant hand with five outstretched fingers.

The whole building was many stories high, and the windows were like glittering eyes looking out over the countryside. It was known with good reason as the Seeing Hand.

‘That’s the trouble with magic swords,’ said Hydorn. ‘When you need them, they go on strike.’

‘Oh yes, you will,’ said Bastian. ‘Because I command it.’ The luckdragon looked at Atreyu, who nodded almost imperceptibly. But Bastian had seen that nod.

all parts of Fantastica poured in

the name Fantastica makes me irrationally angry

A flag affixed to the roof was decorated with Bastian’s coat of arms, a seven-armed candelabrum.

HIS COAT OF ARMS???

If they expected him to back down they had another think coming; his will was of steel.

boy, you're 10 years old wtf are you on about?

My will can control anything that’s empty.’

interesting...

‘My knowledge,’ she murmured, ‘is not of the kind that can be proved.’ ‘Then keep it to yourself,’

And the more he tried to make her come, the fainter became his memory of that glitter in his heart, until in the end all was darkness within him.

‘You can only wish as long as you remember your world. These people here used up all their memories. Without a past you can’t have a future. That’s why they don’t get older. Just look at them. Would you believe that some of them have been here a thousand years and more? But they stay just as they are. Nothing can change for them, because they themselves can’t change anymore.’

What he had hoped was his ruin and what he had feared his salvation.

but that is another story and shall be told another time.

kinda sick of hearing this tbh

But what was he actually like? He no longer knew. So much had been given to him in Fantastica, and now, among all these gifts and powers, he could no longer find himself.