Lord Dunsany, was a prolific Irish author who is considered by many to be one of the major influences on fantasy and horror fiction of the 20th century. A lifelong writer, Dunsany explored writing in all its forms: short stories, novels, essays, plays, fiction and non-fiction, all of which were appreciated by a worldwide audience.
     Born Edward John Moreton Drax Plunkett in July of 1878, Dunsany grew up among wealth and privilege. His father, John William, the 17th Baron of Dunsany, was a scholar and mechanical engineer, who installed the first Irish telephone system, and was also an inventor and popular political figure. Dunsany grew up on the estate of Dunsany and later attended both Eton and Sandhurst. Upon the death of his father in 1899, Dunsany assumed his position as the 18th Baron of Dunsany and, after serving in the Coldstream Guards during the Boer War, returned to Dunsany in 1901, where he lived for the remainder of his life.
     The early work of Lord Dunsany is made up of short fantasy stories, many of which share the same imagery, history and references, making them some of the earliest fantasy works to be set in a "Shared Universe." All the stories in his first collection, The Gods of Pegana, take place in the same imaginary land and its publication in 1905 was met with great success. The other collections he produced prior to WWI are of a similar type, although he did not seem fixed on any one land for his tales. These early fantasies also bordered on parody at times and even subtle horror. Dunsany also began to write plays during this pre-WWI period and gained great notoriety as a playwright (at one point, there were 5 Dunsany plays being performed simultaneously in New York).
     After serving in active duty during WWI, Dunsany returned to writing, but his output turned more towards straight fiction and nonfiction, in the form of short stories, novels, essays and poetry. He did not entirely abandon fantasy, however, and his novels The King of Elfland's Daughter (1924) and The Charwoman's Shadow (1926) are set in a "realistic" fantasy world with its own geography and history and were influential on the works of both Tolkein and Lovecraft. Dunsany also began a series of "realistic" stories about a single character, Joseph Jorkens and the Edwardian club where his adventures began.
     Dunsany continued to write in his many varied styles for the remainder of his life. Some of his manuscripts were dictated to his wife, but many were written by hand using quills he trimmed himself from duck feathers found about the estate. His last novel, a science fiction work entitled The Last Revolution, was completed before his untimely death after surgery for an attack of appendicitis in 1957.
     When dealing with Dunsany's short stories, it is difficult to tie some of the stories to any one period, mainly due to the haphazard way in which his works were printed. Many of his short story collections were reprinted after their initial release with the same title, but with contents that changed with each reprinting. Other reprints had different titles then the original, often titles that were quite similar to works by other authors. Fortunately, there are many Dunsany scholars out there who have the first editions, so it is safe to say that the story presented here, "The True History of The Hare and The Tortoise," comes from the early period of Dunsany's work and first appeared in the 1915 printing of the book Fifty-One Tales.
Introduction ©Bob Gay
July, 2004

     For a long time there was doubt with acrimony among the beasts as to whether the Hare or the Tortoise could run the swifter. Some said the Hare was the swifter of the two because he had such long ears, and others said the Tortoise was the swifter because anyone whose shell was so hard as that should be able to run hard too. And lo, the forces of estrangement and disorder perpetually postponed a decisive contest.
     But when there was nearly war among the beasts, at last an arrangement was come to and it was decided that the Hare and the Tortoise should run a race of five hundred yards so that all should see who was right.
     "Ridiculous nonsense!" said the Hare, and it was all his backers could do to get him to run.
     "The contest is most welcome to me," said the Tortoise, "I shall not shirk it."
     O, how his backers cheered.Feeling ran high on the day of the race; the goose rushed at the fox and nearly pecked him. Both sides spoke loudly of the approaching victory up to the very moment of the race.
"I am absolutely confident of success," said the Tortoise.
     But the Hare said nothing, he looked bored and cross. Some of his supporters deserted him then and went to the other side, who were loudly cheering the Tortoise’s inspiriting words. But many remained with the Hare.
     "We shall not be disappointed in him," they said.
"A beast with such long ears is bound to win."
     "Run hard," said the supporters of the Tortoise.
     And "run hard" became a kind of catch-phrase which everybody repeated to one another. "Hardshell and hard living. That’s what the country wants. Run hard," they said. And these words were never uttered but multitudes cheered from their hearts.
     Then they were off, and suddenly there was a hush.
     The Hare dashed off for about a hundred yards, then he looked round to see where his rival was.
     "It is rather absurd," he said, "to race with a Tortoise." And he sat down and scratched himself.
     "Run hard! Run hard!" shouted some.
     "Let him rest," shouted others. And "let him rest" became a catch-phrase too.
     And after a while his rival drew near to him.
     "There comes that damned Tortoise," said the Hare, and he got up and ran as hard as could be so that he should not let the Tortoise beat him.
     "Those ears will win," said his friends. "Those ears will win; and establish upon an incontestable footing the truth of what we have said."
     And some of them turned to the backers of the Tortoise and said: "What about your beast now?"
     "Run hard," they replied. "Run hard."
     The Hare ran on for nearly three hundred yards, nearly in fact as far as the winning-post, when it suddenly struck him what a fool he looked running races with a Tortoise who was nowhere in sight, and he sat down again and scratched.
     "Run hard. Run hard," said the crowd, and "Let him rest."
     "Whatever is the use of it?" said the Hare, and this time he stopped for good. Some say he slept.
     There was desperate excitement for an hour or two, and then the Tortoise won.
     "Run hard. Run hard," shouted his backers.
     "Hard shell and hard living: that’s what has done it." And then they asked the Tortoise what his achievement signified, and he went and asked the Turtle.
     And the Turtle said, "It is a glorious victory for the forces of swiftness."
     And then the Tortoise repeated it to his friends. And all the beasts said nothing else for years. And even to this day, "a glorious victory for the forces of swiftness" is a catch-phrase in the house of the snail.
     And the reason that this version of the race is not widely known is that very few of those that witnessed it survived the great forest-fire that happened shortly after. It came up over the weald by night with a great wind. The Hare and the Tortoise and a very few of the beasts saw it far off from a high bare hill that was at the edge of the trees, and they hurriedly called a meeting to decide what messenger they should send to warn the beasts in the forest.
     They sent the Tortoise.