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简.爱-世界文学经典读本-(英文版)

作者：夏洛特.勃朗特

出版社：海天出版社出版时间：2017-07-01

开本： 32开 页数： 372页

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简.爱-世界文学经典读本-(英文版) 版权信息

ISBN：9787550720299
条形码：9787550720299 ; 978-7-5507-2029-9
装帧：暂无
册数：暂无
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简.爱-世界文学经典读本-(英文版) 内容简介

《简·爱》自出版至今已一百五十余年的历史，它成功地塑造了英国文学史中一个对爱情、生活、社会以及宗教都采取了独立自主的积极进取态度和敢于斗争、敢于争取自由平等地位的女性形象。《简·爱》的问世曾经轰动19世纪的文坛，在英国文学史上被称为一部经典传世之作，多少年来，它以一种不可抗拒的美感吸引了成千上万的读者。简·爱是一个新型女性，她改写了英国传统女性温柔可爱、逆来顺受的形象。简·爱出生贫苦，貌不惊人，但她坚决反抗自身受压迫、受屈辱的社会地位，始终捍卫自己独立的人格，并*终以和主人罗切斯特爱情的美满结局表达了作者对于品质、思想、人与人之间的关系的思考。这部小说一直受到广大读者的欢迎，同时也代表了夏洛特·勃朗特作品的风格和方向。

简.爱-世界文学经典读本-(英文版) 目录

The Author’s Note to the Third Edition . . . . . . . . . . . . . 001
Chapter 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 001
Chapter 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 005
Chapter 3 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 010
Chapter 4 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 017
Chapter 5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 029
Chapter 6 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 039
Chapter 7 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 045
Chapter 8 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 052
Chapter 9 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 058
Chapter 10 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 064
Chapter 11 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 073
Chapter 12 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 086
Chapter 13 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 094
Chapter 14 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 103
Chapter 15 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 113
Chapter 16 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122
Chapter 17 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 130
Chapter 18 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 146
Chapter 19 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158
Chapter 20 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 166
Chapter 21 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 178
Chapter 22 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 195
Chapter 23 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 201
Chapter 24 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 209
Chapter 25 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 224
Chapter 26 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 234
Chapter 27 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 242
Chapter 28 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 263
Chapter 29 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 277
Chapter 30 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 286
Chapter 31 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 293
Chapter 32 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 299
Chapter 33 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 308
Chapter 34 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 319
Chapter 35 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 336
Chapter 36 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 345
Chapter 37 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 353
Chapter 38 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 369

展开全部

简.爱-世界文学经典读本-(英文版) 节选

The Author’s Note to the Third EditionI avail myself of the opportunity which a third edition of “Jane Eyre” affords me, of again addressing a word to the Public, to explain that my claim to the title of novelist rests on this one work alone. If, therefore, the authorship of other works of fiction has been attributed to me, an honour is awarded where it is not merited; and consequently, denied where it is justly due.This explanation will serve to rectify mistakes which may already have been made, and to prevent future errors.Currer Bell.April 13th, 1848.Chapter 1THERE was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning; but since dinner (Mrs. Reed, when there was no company, dined early) the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so sombre, and a rain so penetrating, that further out-door exercise was now out of the question.I was glad of it: I never liked long walks, especially on chilly afternoons: dreadful to me was the coming home in the raw twilight, with nipped fingers and toes, and a heart saddened by the chidings of Bessie, the nurse, and humbled by the consciousness of my physical inferiority to Eliza, John, and Georgiana Reed.The said Eliza, John, and Georgiana were now clustered round their mama in the drawing-room: she lay reclined on a sofa by the fireside, and with her darlings about her (for the time neither quarrelling nor crying) looked perfectly happy. Me, she had dispensed from joining the group; saying, “She regretted to be under the necessity of keeping me at a distance; but that until she heard from Bessie, and could discover by her own observation, that I was endeavouring in good earnest to acquire a more sociable and childlike disposition, a more attractive and sprightly manner — something lighter, franker, more natural, as it were — she really must exclude me from privileges intended only for contented, happy, little children.”“What does Bessie say I have done?” I asked.“Jane, I don’t like cavillers or questioners; besides, there is something truly forbidding in a child taking up her elders in that manner. Be seated somewhere; and until you can speak pleasantly, remain silent.”A breakfast-room adjoined the drawing-room, I slipped in there. It contained a bookcase: I soon possessed myself of a volume, taking care that it should be one stored with pictures. I mounted into the window-seat: gathering up my feet, I sat cross-legged, like a Turk; and, having drawn the red moreen curtain nearly close, I was shrined in double retirement.Folds of scarlet drapery shut in my view to the right hand; to the left were the clear panes of glass, protecting, but not separating me from the drear November day. At intervals, while turning over the leaves of my book, I studied the aspect of that winter afternoon. Afar, it offered a pale blank of mist and cloud; near a scene of wet lawn and storm-beat shrub, with ceaseless rain sweeping away wildly before a long and lamentable blast.I returned to my book — Berwick’s History of British Birds: the letterpress thereof I cared little for, generally speaking; and yet there were certain introductory pages that, child as I was, I could not pass quite as a blank. They were those which treat of the haunts of sea-fowl; of “the solitary rocks and promontories” by them only inhabited; of the coast of Norway, studded with isles from its southern extremity, the Lindeness, or Naze, to the North Cape —“Where the Northern Ocean, in vast whirls,Boils round the naked, melancholy islesOf farthest Thule; and the Atlantic surgePours in among the stormy Hebrides.”Nor could I pass unnoticed the suggestion of the bleak shores of Lapland, Siberia, Spitzbergen, Nova Zembla, Iceland, Greenland, with “the vast sweep of the Arctic Zone, and those forlorn regions of dreary space, — that reservoir of frost and snow, where firm fields of ice, the accumulation of centuries of winters, glazed in Alpine heights above heights, surround the pole, and concentre the multiplied rigours of extreme cold.” Of these death-white realms I formed an idea of my own: shadowy, like all the half-comprehended notions that float dim through children’s brains, but strangely impressive. The words in these introductory pages connected themselves with the succeeding vignettes, and gave significance to the rock standing up alone in a sea of billow and spray; to the broken boat stranded on a desolate coast; to the cold and ghastly moon glancing through bars of cloud at a wreck just sinking.I cannot tell what sentiment haunted the quite solitary churchyard, with its inscribed headstone; its gate, its two trees, its low horizon, girdled by a broken wall, and its newly-risen crescent, attesting the hour of eventide.The two ships becalmed on a torpid sea, I believed to be marine phantoms.The fiend pinning down the thief’s pack behind him, I passed over quickly: it was an object of terror.So was the black horned thing seated aloof on a rock, surveying a distant crowd surrounding a gallows.Each picture told a story; mysterious often to my undeveloped understanding and imperfect feelings, yet ever profoundly interesting: as interesting as the tales Bessie sometimes narrated on winter evenings, when she chanced to be in good humour; and when, having brought her ironing-table to the nursery hearth, she allowed us to sit about it, and while she got up Mrs. Reed’s lace frills, and crimped her nightcap borders, fed our eager attention with passages of love and adventure taken from old fairy tales and other ballads; or (as at a later period I discovered) from the pages of Pamela, and Henry, Earl of Moreland.With Bewick on my knee, I was then happy: happy at least in my way. I feared nothing but interruption, and that came too soon. The breakfast-room door opened.“Boh! Madam Mope!” cried the voice of John Reed; then he paused: he found the room apparently empty.“Where the dickens is she!” he continued. “Lizzy! Georgy! (calling to his sisters) Joan is not here: tell mama she is run out into the rain — bad animal!”“It is well I drew the curtain,” thought I; and I wished fervently he might not discover my hiding-place: nor would John Reed have found it out himself; he was not quick either of vision or conception; but Eliza just put her head in at the door, and said at once —“She is in the window-seat, to be sure, Jack.”And I came out immediately, for I trembled at the idea of being dragged forth by the said Jack.“What do you want?” I asked, with awkward diffidence.“Say, ‘What do you want, Master Reed?’” was the answer. “I want you to come here;” and seating himself in an arm-chair, he intimated by a gesture that I was to approach and stand before him.John Reed was a schoolboy of fourteen years old; four years older than I, for I was but ten: large and stout for his age, with a dingy and unwholesome skin; thick lineaments in a spacious visage, heavy limbs and large extremities. He gorged himself habitually at table, which made him bilious, and gave him a dim and bleared eye and flabby cheeks. He ought now to have been at school; but his mama had taken him home for a month or two, “on account of his delicate health.” Mr. Miles, the master, affirmed that he would do very well if he had fewer cakes and sweetmeats sent him from home; but the mother’s heart turned from an opinion so harsh, and inclined rather to the more refined idea that John’s sallowness was owing to over-application and, perhaps, to pining after home.John had not much affection for his mother and sisters, and an antipathy to me. He bullied and punished me; not two or three times in the week, nor once or twice in the day, but continually: every nerve I had feared him, and every morsel of flesh in my bones shrank when he came near. There were moments when I was bewildered by the terror he inspired, because I had no appeal whatever against either his menaces or his inflictions; the servants did not like to offend their young master by taking my part against him, and Mrs. Reed was blind and deaf on the subject: she never saw him strike or heard him abuse me, though he did both now and then in her very presence, more frequently, however, behind her back.Habitually obedient to John, I came up to his chair: he spent some three minutes in thrusting out his tongue at me as far as he could without damaging the roots: I knew he would soon strike, and while dreading the blow, I mused on the disgusting and ugly appearance of him who would presently deal it. I wonder if he read that notion in my face; for, all at once, without speaking, he struck suddenly and strongly. I tottered, and on regaining my equilibrium retired back a step or two from his chair.“That is for your impudence in answering mama awhile since,” said he, “and for your sneaking way of getting behind curtains, and for the look you had in your eyes two minutes since, you rat!……

简.爱-世界文学经典读本-(英文版) 作者简介

夏洛特·勃朗特（Charlotte Bront?），英国女作家，出生在英格兰北部约克郡，是勃朗特三姐妹中的大姐。夏洛特早年的生活条件十分艰苦，后当过家庭教师。1847年出版的第一部小说《简·爱》，叙述的是一个在恶劣的生存环境中奋斗的孤女的故事。此后她又于1853年发表了颇含自传成分的《维耶特》，算不上漂亮而又无依无靠的维耶特靠智慧和才能博得了人们的尊敬，但小说冲破了惯常的有情人终成眷属的套路，而用女主人公冲破困难罗网的胜利者身份结束。夏洛特于1855年结婚，几个月后病逝，死时不满40岁。

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