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呼啸山庄(英文版)

作者：（英）艾米莉·勃朗特

出版社：江苏凤凰文艺出版社出版时间：2017-02-01

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版权信息
本书特色
内容简介
目录
节选
作者简介

呼啸山庄(英文版) 版权信息

ISBN：9787559421654
条形码：9787559421654 ; 978-7-5594-2165-4
装帧：一般纯质纸
册数：暂无
重量：暂无
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英文版

呼啸山庄(英文版) 本书特色

读过犹如拥有一种财富。 ——诺贝尔文学奖获得者莫言《呼啸山庄》的丑恶与美并存，而且它所表达的力量也是一般小说家难以企及的……我不知道还有哪一部小说曾经如此令人吃惊地描述出爱情的痛苦、迷恋、残酷和执著。 ——英国作家毛姆她朝着一个四分五裂的世界望去，而感到她本身有力量在一本书中把它拼凑起来。那种雄心壮志可以在全部小说中感觉得到——一种部分虽受到挫折，但却具有宏伟信念的挣扎，通过她的人物的口中说出的不仅仅是“我爱”或“我恨”，却是“我们，全人类”和“你们，永存的势力……” ——英国作家弗吉尼亚·伍尔夫《呼啸山庄》以艺术的想象形式表达了十九世纪资本主义社会中人们精神上的压力、紧张与矛盾冲突。……《呼啸山庄》中的男男女女不是大自然的囚徒，他们生活在这个世界里，而且努力去改变它，有时顺利，却总是痛苦的，几乎不断遇到困难，不断犯错误。 ——英国评论家阿诺德·凯特尔《呼啸山庄》所写的爱情，不是那种客厅里的爱情，不是梳妆台前的爱情，也不是我们女人针线篓子里的爱情，总之它不是掌握在我们手里的爱情，它是一种力量。 ——中国当代作家、茅盾文学奖获得者王安忆 ◎世界十大文学名著之一，被誉为“英国文学史上震撼人心的奇特小说”《纽约时报》“世界十大名著”列第四，是英国文学史上ZUI奇特的一本书。所谓奇者：一是文学史上少见，二是作品表现的内容和艺术形式极为独特。它体现了一种凄厉、恐怖、残酷、神秘的不寻常的美学风格，被认为是在维多利亚时代小说中“唯一一部没有被时间的尘土遮没了光辉”的作品，是19世纪英国文学的代表作之一。 ◎“人间情爱的宏伟史诗”一部关于爱和恨、关于背叛和复仇的史诗级著作。作品中的爱情绝美，它的爱情故事时而缠绵、时而恐怖、时而绝望、时而炙热，有时像一首浪漫的序曲，有时又像一首疾风骤雨般的赞歌。 ◎小说充满了反抗精神及对灵魂自由的追求“我爱希斯克利夫，因为他比我更像我自己。他作为另一个我自己，永存于我的心中。”这不只是爱的独白，这是灵魂的认同。 ◎精装双封面，精心排版，值得收藏中文译文以直译为主，以方便中英文对照学习，译文经反复推敲，对忠实理解原著极有助益；在涉及到重要文化习俗之处，添加了精当的注释，以解疑惑。 ◎同名电影至今仍经久不衰，深受广大影迷喜爱故事的背景是一片狂风呼啸的荒原，故事中的人物保留着大自然的风貌和原始的本性：质朴、粗犷、率真、刚强，感情奔放不羁，举止疯狂无度，爱起来不顾一切，恨起来不计后果。全篇充满了强烈的反压迫、求自由的斗争精神，又始终笼罩着离奇、紧张、浪漫的艺术气氛。由于《呼啸山庄》的复杂性和多义性，一百多年来，对它的评述和研究卷帙浩繁，歧见纷呈。正如人们评价的那样，《呼啸山庄》是一部震撼人心的奇书。 Not?a?soul?knew?to?whom?it?belonged. (随书附赠“英英中”单词小册子，孩子阅读更顺畅；《纽约时报》“世界十大名著”列第四——“人间情爱的宏伟史诗”；文学史上震撼人心的“奇特小说”，“文学中的斯芬克斯”；爱恨·背叛·复仇·毁灭·绝望·重生。)

呼啸山庄(英文版) 内容简介

小说叙述了恩萧和林顿两家两代人的感情纠葛这样一个错综复杂、惊心动魄的故事。呼啸山庄的主人恩萧先生带回来一个身份不明的吉卜赛弃儿，取名希斯克利夫，极为宠爱。恩萧死后，希斯克利夫被恩萧的儿子辛德雷贬为奴仆，并百般迫害，而原本与他亲密无间的凯瑟琳也受外界影响改而爱上画眉田庄的埃德加，因此愤而出走。三年后，希斯克利夫致富回乡，而此时凯瑟琳已嫁给埃德加，为此，他进行了疯狂的报复，夺取辛德雷的家财，故意娶埃德加的妹妹伊莎贝拉进行迫害……内心痛苦不堪的凯瑟琳在分娩中死去。多年后，希斯克利夫又施计使埃德加的女儿小凯瑟琳嫁给了自己即将死去的儿子小林顿。埃德加和小林顿都死了，希斯克利夫很终把埃德加家的财产也据为己有。复仇得逞了，但是他无法从对死去的凯瑟琳的恋情中解脱出来，当他看到被复仇计划弄得遍体鳞伤的两个相爱的孩子哈里顿和凯茜时，便想起自己与凯瑟琳的爱情。他放弃了复仇，绝食而死……

呼啸山庄(英文版) 目录

Chapter 01 DOWN THE RABBIT-HOLE

Chapter 02 THE POOL OF TEARS

Chapter 03 A CAUCUS-RACE AND A LONG TALE

Chapter 04 THE RABBIT SENDS IN A LITTLE BILL

Chapter 05 ADVICE FROM A CATERPILLAR

Chapter 06 PIG AND PEPPER

Chapter 07 A MAD TEA-PARTY

Chapter 08 THE QUEEN’S CROQUET-GROUND

Chapter 09 THE MOCK TURTLE’S STORY

Chapter 10 THE LOBSTER QUADRILLE

Chapter 11 WHO STOLE THE TARTS?

Chapter 12 ALICE’S EVIDENCE

展开全部

呼啸山庄(英文版) 节选

CHAPTER 1 1801.―I have just returned from a visit to my landlord―the solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with. This is certainly a beautiful country! In all England, I do not believe that I could have fixed on a situation so completely removed from the stir of society. A perfect misanthropist’s heaven: and Mr. Heathcliff and I are such a suitable pair to divide the desolation between us. A capital fellow! He little imagined how my heart warmed towards him when I beheld his black eyes withdraw so suspiciously under their brows, as I rode up, and when his fingers sheltered themselves, with a jealous resolution, still further in his waistcoat, as I announced my name. “Mr. Heathcliff?” I said. A nod was the answer. “Mr. Lockwood, your new tenant, sir. I do myself the honour of calling as soon as possible after my arrival, to express the hope that I have not inconvenienced you by my perseverance in soliciting the occupation of Thrushcross Grange: I heard yesterday you had had some thoughts―” “Thrushcross Grange is my own, sir,” he interrupted, wincing. “I should not allow any one to inconvenience me, if I could hinder it―walk in!” The “walk in” was uttered with closed teeth, and expressed the sentiment, “Go to the Deuce.” even the gate over which he leant manifested no sympathising movement to the words; and I think that circumstance determined me to accept the invitation: I felt interested in a man who seemed more exaggeratedly reserved than myself. When he saw my horse’s breast fairly pushing the barrier, he did put out his hand to unchain it, and then sullenly preceded me up the causeway, calling, as we entered the court,―“Joseph, take Mr. Lockwood’s horse; and bring up some wine.” “Here we have the whole establishment of domestics, I suppose,” was the reflection suggested by this compound order. “No wonder the grass grows up between the flags, and cattle are the only hedge-cutters.” Joseph was an elderly, nay, an old man: very old, perhaps, though hale and sinewy. “The Lord help us!” he soliloquised in an undertone of peevish displeasure, while relieving me of my horse: looking, meantime, in my face so sourly that I charitably conjectured he must have need of divine aid to digest his dinner, and his pious ejaculation had no reference to my unexpected advent. Wuthering Heights is the name of Mr. Heathcliff’s dwelling. “Wuthering” being a significant provincial adjective, descriptive of the atmospheric tumult to which its station is exposed in stormy weather. Pure, bracing ventilation they must have up there at all times, indeed: one may guess the power of the north wind blowing over the edge, by the excessive slant of a few stunted firs at the end of the house; and by a range of gaunt thorns all stretching their limbs one way, as if craving alms of the sun. Happily, the architect had foresight to build it strong: the narrow windows are deeply set in the wall, and the corners defended with large jutting stones. Before passing the threshold, I paused to admire a quantity of grotesque carving lavished over the front, and especially about the principal door; above which, among a wilderness of crumbling griffins and shameless little boys, I detected the date “1500,” and the name “Hareton Earnshaw.” I would have made a few comments, and requested a short history of the place from the surly owner; but his attitude at the door appeared to demand my speedy entrance, or complete departure, and I had no desire to aggravate his impatience previous to inspecting the penetralium. One stop brought us into the family sitting-room, without any introductory lobby or passage: they call it here “the house” pre-eminently. It includes kitchen and parlour, generally; but I believe at Wuthering Heights the kitchen is forced to retreat altogether into another quarter: at least I distinguished a chatter of tongues, and a clatter of culinary utensils, deep within; and I observed no signs of roasting, boiling, or baking, about the huge fireplace; nor any glitter of copper saucepans and tin cullenders on the walls. One end, indeed, reflected splendidly both light and heat from ranks of immense pewter dishes, interspersed with silver jugs and tankards, towering row after row, on a vast oak dresser, to the very roof. The latter had never been under-drawn: its entire anatomy lay bare to an inquiring eye, except where a frame of wood laden with oatcakes and clusters of legs of beef, mutton, and ham, concealed it. Above the chimney were sundry villainous old guns, and a couple of horse-pistols: and, by way of ornament, three gaudily-painted canisters disposed along its ledge. The floor was of smooth, white stone; the chairs, high-backed, primitive structures, painted green: one or two heavy black ones lurking in the shade. In an arch under the dresser reposed a huge, liver-coloured bitch pointer, surrounded by a swarm of squealing puppies; and other dogs haunted other recesses. The apartment and furniture would have been nothing extraordinary as belonging to a homely, northern farmer, with a stubborn countenance, and stalwart limbs set out to advantage in knee-breeches and gaiters. Such an individual seated in his armchair, his mug of ale frothing on the round table before him, is to be seen in any circuit of five or six miles among these hills, if you go at the right time after dinner. But Mr. Heathcliff forms a singular contrast to his abode and style of living. He is a dark-skinned gipsy in aspect, in dress and manners a gentleman: that is, as much a gentleman as many a country squire: rather slovenly, perhaps, yet not looking amiss with his negligence, because he has an erect and handsome figure; and rather morose. Possibly, some people might suspect him of a degree of under-bred pride; I have a sympathetic chord within that tells me it is nothing of the sort: I know, by instinct, his reserve springs from an aversion to showy displays of feeling―to manifestations of mutual kindliness. He’ll love and hate equally under cover, and esteem it a species of impertinence to be loved or hated again. No, I’m running on too fast: I bestow my own attributes over-liberally on him. Mr. Heathcliff may have entirely dissimilar reasons for keeping his hand out of the way when he meets a would-be acquaintance, to those which actuate me. Let me hope my constitution is almost peculiar: my dear mother used to say I should never have a comfortable home; and only last summer I proved myself perfectly unworthy of one. While enjoying a month of fine weather at the sea-coast, I was thrown into the company of a most fascinating creature: a real goddess in my eyes, as long as she took no notice of me. I “never told my love” vocally; still, if looks have language, the merest idiot might have guessed I was over head and ears: she understood me at last, and looked a return―the sweetest of all imaginable looks. And what did I do? I confess it with shame―shrunk icily into myself, like a snail; at every glance retired colder and farther; till finally the poor innocent was led to doubt her own senses, and, overwhelmed with confusion at her supposed mistake, persuaded her mamma to decamp. By this curious turn of disposition I have gained the reputation of deliberate heartlessness; how undeserved, I alone can appreciate. I took a seat at the end of the hearthstone opposite that towards which my landlord advanced, and filled up an interval of silence by attempting to caress the canine mother, who had left her nursery, and was sneaking wolfishly to the back of my legs, her lip curled up, and her white teeth watering for a snatch. My caress provoked a long, guttural gnarl. “You’d better let the dog alone,” growled Mr. Heathcliff in unison, checking fiercer demonstrations with a punch of his foot. “she’s not accustomed to be spoiled―not kept for a pet.” Then, striding to a side door, he shouted again, “Joseph!”

呼啸山庄(英文版) 作者简介

艾米莉?勃朗特（1818—1848），19世纪英国小说家、诗人，英国文学史上著名的“勃朗特三姐妹”之一。她生于贫苦但溢满书香的牧师之家，生性独立、刚毅，热情而又内向，《呼啸山庄》是她一生中weiyi的一部小说，奠定了她在英国文学史以及世界文学史上的地位。此外，她还创作了193首诗，被认为是英国一位天才型的女作家。 Emily Jane Bronte （1818—1848）, was an English novelist and poet who is best known for her only novel, Wuthering Heights, now considered a classic of English literature. Emily was the third-eldest of the four surviving Bronte siblings, between the youngest Anne and her brother Branwell. She published under the pen name Ellis Bell.

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