In these medieval Arab tales, a heavy dollop of spice -

On its cover, "Tales of the Marvellous and News of the Strange" is described as "the first English translation of a medieval Arab fantasy collection." First discovered in 1933 in Istanbul, in a unique manuscript, it is now presented in English by the distinguished Arabist Malcolm C. Lyons, who a mere seven years ago brought out a complete and updated translation of "The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1001 Nights." For each of those three hefty volumes, Robert Irwin, best known for "The Arabian Nights: A Companion," supplied a characteristically learned and engaging introduction, as he does again for this new book.

Because the Istanbul manuscript has lost its first page, no one knows the collection's original title, but a contents page refers to its stories as "al-hikayat al-'ajiba wa'l-akhbar al-ghariba" — that is, as "tales of the marvelous and news of the strange." Internal evidence suggests that the book was originally put together in the 10th century, although the surviving manuscript dates from a later time, possibly as late as the 16th century. Its second half is likewise missing, so we have only 18 stories, s ome with significant lacunae, instead of a promised 42.

The tales themselves are very much what we think of as “Arabian Nights” stories. Here are magic rings, caves of wonder, jinn, astrologers, flying horses, deadly automatons and wicked viziers. But in “Tales of the Marvellous and News of the Strange,” one doesn’t find stories nested inside other stories like Chinese boxes, as one does in those told by Shahrazad. The tale-telling is less elaborate, even a bit rough and generic, and occasionally slightly muddled. But to compensate, there is lots of sex.

In “The Story of the Forty Girls and What Happened to Them With the Prince,” a Persian king invites his three sons to interpret a peculiar dream. The older sons tell their father what he wants to hear, but the youngest turns pale and exclaims that the king will be attacked by someone he cannot drive off and that this someone will be himself. Condemned to death in the desert, the despairing prince miraculously spies “a lofty and spacious castle towering to the sky.” Inside, he discovers a receiving hall with 40 thrones, 40 doors opening onto as many bedrooms and a banquet table arranged for 40 people. At this point, he hears the noise of horses’ hooves and quickly hides. “The riders came into the hall, disarmed and removed their riding gear, revealing themselves as women more beautiful than the houris of Paradise.”

In due course, our hero sleeps with all 40 of these amazons, each of whom conceives. But their sorceress leader generously forgives his dalliance with her maids, although he must now be true to her alone; otherwise, she warns, “I shall imprison you, torture you and load you with iron chains.”

So the prince enjoys his ease with this literally bewitching woman, until she announces that she and her companions must leave the castle for a single day. During their absence, he may amuse himself by looking through any of its chambers, “all except this one, which you are not to approach or open.” We all know what this means.

What he finds inside — and I'm not going to tell you — will be familiar to readers of the very similar "Third Dervish's Tale" in "The Arabian Nights." As Irwin reminds us, good stories move around, and at least some of these action-filled fantasies — in one, battle elephants fight with swords attached to their swinging trunks — probably originated in Persia or India. The precis-like titles of this collection might almost be announcements of coming attractions.

Here, for instance, is “The Story of Talha, the Son of the Qadi of Fustate, and What Happened to Him With His Slave Girl Tuhfa and How She Was Taken Away From Him and What Hardships Befell Until There Was Relief After Grief.” For something more lurid, consider “The Story of the Six Men: The Hunchbacked, the One-Eyed, the Blind, the Crippled, the Man Whose Lips Had Been Cut Off and the Seller of Glassware.” Glassware?

Several stories feature treasure-hunting or nautical adventure.

During one Sinbadian voyage, sailors encounter the centuries-old monk Simeon, a former companion to the biblical prophet Daniel and now a convert to Islam. He reveals that the Torah and New Testament originally included references to Muhammad, but these were later deleted by the Jews and Christians. He also rants with prophetic fury about how in the future the Islamic faithful will be corrupted by their secular neighbors, fall into heresy and neglect the holy ways of their ancestors.

Along with marvels galore, these pages are also replete with religiosity, racism and misogyny. “The Story of ‘Arus al-‘Ara’is and Her Deceit, as Well as the Wonders of the Seas and Islands” is told to persuade a grieving king to “hate women and girls and make him glad that his daughter died.” Irwin likens the tale’s ruthless protagonist to Medea, but a better comparison might be Milady of “The Three Musketeers,” whose sexual power is so great that she can bend any man to her will.

As the story opens, its narrator has been marooned on a desert island when one day a jinni — “the largest and blackest beast that I had ever seen” — wades ashore with a glass chest. Inside is a girl whose “beauty illumined all that was around her.” The jinni makes a fire, cooks a ram and shares the food with this dazzling beauty. “He then started to toy with the girl, getting closer and closer until he could lie with her while she did the same thing with him.”

Her name is ‘Arus al-‘Ara’is, and before long she coolly seduces the narrator, then slits the jinni’s throat.

Afterward, the lovely killer — totally unfazed — relates the story of her life. A king’s daughter, she was corrupted at an early age and quickly learned the useful tools of seduction and murder. For instance, needing to disguise from her fiance that she wasn’t a virgin, she arranged for her bachelorette party to be attacked by ruffians and all the women raped, herself included. She then made sure that the rapists were all caught and executed. Over time, ‘Arus al-‘Ara’is eliminates husbands, lovers, servants and even her mother. In exile, she pouts and flirts with a jinni until the poor besotted creature reluctantly agrees to pour fiery sand on her hometown and burn everything and everyone in it.

Of this woman, it could be said — as the collection writes of another femme fatale — “when she advanced she fascinated and when she turned back she destroyed.”

Though lacking the charm and artfulness of "The Arabian Nights," these medieval fantasies should nonetheless appeal to anyone who loves "tales of the marvelous and news of the strange." Just listen: "They say that Harun al-Rashid was very restless one night and summoned Masrur , his executioner. When he arrived quickly the caliph told him that he could not sleep and wanted him to fetch so meone to tell him a story ... "

Michael Dirda reviews books for The Washington Post every Thursday.

TALES OF THE MARVELLOUS AND NEWS OF THE STRANGE

Translated from the Arabic by Malcolm C. Lyons

Penguin. 447 pp. $30

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