Period+1-+Norway

​ NORWAY

Unlike many other European countries, Norway has an unbroken folk music tradition. Since folk music has been passed along continuously from generation to generation, there has been no need for a folk music revival. This has served as an inspiration for a number of Norwegian composers, including [|Edvard Grieg] . To some extent the Hardanger fiddle and the accordion represent the two poles of Norwegian folk music - the former with its drone and often delicate atonality, and the latter with its brash chromaticism. Please see also [|Norwegian Accordion Musicians Association] .

The instruments, from a harp to a violin, have few components other than ice added, only their strings and wood to attach them to the musical scuptures. They were played at a concert at the world's only ice music festival in Geilo. ** Norwegian cuisine ** in its traditional form is based largely on the raw materials readily available in Norway and its mountains, wilderness and coast. It differs in many respects from its continental counterparts with a stronger focus on game and fish. Modern Norwegian cuisine, although still strongly influenced by its traditional background, now bears the marks of globalization: pastas and pizzas and the like are as common as meatballs and cod as staple foods, and urban restaurants sport the same selection you would expect to find in any western European city.

**//Smorbukk (Butterball) //** "Run out, my little Butterball," said the old woman, "and see who Goldtooth's barking at." So the boy run outs, and came in and said, "Oh, heaven help me! Here comes a big ,tall Troll-hag, with her head under her arm and a sack on her back!" "Run under the breadboard and hide!" said his mother. Then in came the big Troll. "Good day!" she said. "God bless you!" said Butterball's mother. "Isn't Butterball at home today?" asked the Troll. "No, he's in the woods with his father bagging grouse," replied the mother. "Devil take it! Said the Troll-hag. "I've got such a fine little silver knife I wanted to give him!" "Pip, pip! Here I am! said Butterball, from underneath the breadboard, and out he came. "I'm so old and my back's so stiff," said the Troll. "You'll have to pop down into the sack and fetch it yourself." When Butterball was well down inside, the Troll-hag swung the sack on her back and rushed out through the door. But, when they had gone a bit on the way, the Troll grew tired and asked," How far must I go to find a place to take a nap?" "A furlong," said Butterball. So the roll put the sack down by the side of the road, and went off through the woods by herself, and lay down to sleep. In the meantime, Butterball saw his change. He took his knife, ripped a hole in the sack, and popped out. Then he put a large pine root in his place, and home he ran to his mother. When the Troll got home and laid eyes on what she had in the sack, she was beside herself with rage. The next day the old woman sat baking again. All at once the dog started to bark. "Run out, my little Butterball," she said, "and see what Goldtooth's barking at". "Oh nay! Oh nay! That nasty beast!" said Butterball. "Now she's coming back, with her head under her arm and a big sack on her back!" "Run under the breadboard and hide!" said his mother. "Good day!" she said. "God bless you!" said Butterball's mother. "Isn't Butterball at home today?" asked the Troll. "No, he's in the woods with his father bagging grouse," replied the mother. "Devil take it! Said the Troll-hag. "I've got such a fine little silver fork I wanted to give him!" "Pip, pip! Here I am! said Butterball, and out he came.. "My back's so stiff," said the Troll. "You'll have to pop down into the sack and fetch it yourself." When Butterball was well inside the sack, the Troll flung it on her back and set off. When they had gone a good bit on the way, she grew tired and asked, "How far off is it to where I can sleep?" "Halve a mile," replied Butterball. So the Troll put the sack down by the side of the road, and went up through the woods, and lay down to sleep. While the Troll was away, Butterball made a hole in the sack, and when he was out he put a big stone inside. When the Troll-hag got home, she made a fire in the hearth, hung a huge pot over, and was going to stew Butterball. But when she took the sack, thinking it was Butterball she was going to shake out, down fell the stone, making a hole in the bottom of the pot, so the water ran out and put out the fire. Now the Troll was terribly angry and said, "No matter how heavy he makes himself this time, I'll trick him just the same, I will!" The third time was just like the others; Goldtooth started to bark, and so the mother said to Butterball, "Run out, my little Butterball, and see who Goldtooth's barking at". So Butterball ran out, and came back in again and said:" Oh mercy me! It's that Troll again, with her head under her arm and a sack on her back!!" "Run under the breadboard and hide!" said the mother "God bless you!" said Butterball's mother. "Isn't Butterball at home today?" asked the Troll. "Indeed he isn't!" said the mother. "He's out in the woods with his father bagging grouse." "Devil take it! Said the Troll-hag. "I've got such a pretty little silver spoon I wanted to give him!" "Pip, pip! Here I am! said Butterball, and out he came from underneath the breadboard. "My back's so stiff," said the Troll-hag. "You'll have to pop down into the sack and fetch it yourself." When Butterball was well down inside, the Troll threw the sack on her back and set off on the way. This time she didn't go off by herself and lie down to sleep, but strode straight home with Butterball in the sack. And when they got there, it was a Sunday. Then the Troll said to her daughter, "Now you must take Butterball, and cut'im up, and make out of'im the time I come back. For now I'm going to church and invite my friends to a feast." When the Troll had gone, the daughter was going to take Butterball and butcher him, but she didn't quite know how she was to set about it. "Wait and I'll show you how to go about it, I will," said Butterball. "Lay your head on the stool and you'll see,"  She did just so, poor thing, and Butterball took the ax and chopped off her head, just like a chicken's. Then he put the head in the bed and the carcass in the pot, and made broth of the Troll's daughter. And when that was done, he scrambled up over the door, dragging the pine root and the stone with him, and one he placed over the door and the other on the Troll's chimney pipe. When the Trolls came home from the church, and saw the head in the bed, they thought the daughter was asleep; but then they want over to taste the broth. "Tastes good, this Butterball broth!" said the Troll-hag. "Tastes good, this daughter broth!" said Butterball, but they paid no attention to that. Then the Mountain Troll took the spoon and was going to taste. "Tastes good, this Butterball broth!" he said. "Tastes good, this daughter broth!" said Butterball, perched up on the chimney pipe. Then they took to wondering who was talking, and wanted to go out and have a look. But when they got to the door, Butterball threw the pine root and the stone at their heads and killed them all. Then he took all the gold and silver there was in the house - and now he was rich indeed, if you please - and then he went to his mother.
 * T **here was once an old woman who sat baking. She had a little boy, and he was so round and fat, and fond of good things to eat, that she called him "Butterball". And she had a dog called "Goldtooth" . All at once the dog started to bark.

citations: [] web: 20 october, 2009 [] web: 20 october, 2009 [] web: 20 october, 2009