Jane Eyre簡·愛 英文原版 [平裝]

Jane Eyre簡·愛 英文原版 [平裝] pdf epub mobi txt 電子書 下載 2025

Charlotte Bronte(夏洛蒂·勃朗特) 著
圖書標籤:
  • 經典文學
  • 英文原版
  • 小說
  • 維多利亞時期
  • 女性文學
  • 愛情
  • 成長
  • 哥特小說
  • 社會批判
  • 人物傳記
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齣版社: Penguin
ISBN:9780451530912
商品編碼:19008632
包裝:平裝
叢書名: Signet Classics
齣版時間:2008-04-01
用紙:膠版紙
頁數:408
正文語種:英文
商品尺寸:10.67x2.54x17.53cm

具體描述

編輯推薦

  《簡·愛》是夏洛蒂·勃朗特的成名作及代錶作,也是集經典性與流行性於一體的世界文學經典名著的典型代錶。小說女主人公簡·愛是英語文學中最早在社會生活中爭取獨立自主,並積極進取的女性形象之一;男主人公羅切斯特則是繼《失樂園》中的撒旦之後,頗為典型的“黑色英雄”之一。

內容簡介

Featuring an Introduction by Erica Jong, this book stars one of the most unforgettable heroines of all time. Jane Eyre is a first-person narrative of the title character. The novel goes through five distinct stages: Jane's childhood at Gateshead, where she is emotionally and physically abused by her aunt and cousins; her education at Lowood School, where she acquires friends and role models but also suffers privations and oppression; her time as the governess of Thornfield Hall, where she falls in love with her Byronic employer, Edward Rochester; her time with the Rivers family during which her earnest but cold clergyman-cousin St John Rivers proposes to her; and the finale with her reunion with and marriage to her beloved Rochester.

  《簡·愛》創作於英國謝菲爾德,是一部帶有自傳色彩的長篇小說,它闡釋瞭這樣一個主題:人的價值=尊嚴+愛。《簡·愛》中的簡愛人生追求有兩個基本鏇律:富有激情、幻想、反抗和堅持不懈的精神;對人間自由幸福的渴望和對更高精神境界的追求。這本小說的主題是通過對孤女坎坷不平的人生經曆,成功地塑造瞭一個不安於現狀、不甘受辱、敢於抗爭的女性形象,反映一個平凡心靈的坦誠傾訴的呼號和責難,一個小寫的人成為一個大寫的人的渴望。   《簡·愛》是一部反響巨大的書。齣版商在1847年10月就齣版瞭這部作品。薩剋雷稱贊它是“一位偉大天纔的傑作”。次年印行第三版時,《評論季刊》上提到“《簡·愛》與《名利場》受到同樣廣泛的歡迎。喬治·艾略特則深深地被《簡·愛》陶醉瞭”。

作者簡介

Charlotte Bront and her sisters Anne and Emily are acclaimed English novelists and poets. Charlotte is best know for her masterpiece Jane Eyre, and is also the author of Shirley and Villette.

  夏洛蒂·勃朗特(1816~1855)英國女小說傢。艾米莉·勃朗特之姐。齣生於英國北部約剋郡的豪渥斯。夏洛蒂·勃朗特排行第三,有兩個姐姐、兩個妹妹和一個弟弟。兩個妹妹,即艾米莉·勃朗特和安恩·勃朗特,也是著名作傢,因而在英國文學史上常有“勃朗特三姐妹”之稱。夏洛蒂創作瞭《簡愛》、《雪莉》、《教師》、《維萊蒂》四部小說和一些詩歌。另有一部沒有完成的小說《愛瑪》:隻寫瞭兩章。”《簡·愛》是她的處女作,也是代錶作,至今仍受到廣大讀者的歡迎。

精彩書評

"So we open Jane Eyre....The writer has usby the hand, forces us along her road, makes us see what she sees, never leaves us for a moment or allows us to forget her. At the end we are steeped through and through with the genius, the vehemence, the indignation of Charlotte Bronte....It is the red and fitful glow of the heart's fire which illuminates her page."
--Virginia Woolf

精彩書摘

Chapter One

There 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 outdoor 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 mamma 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 small 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 crosslegged, 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 in 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--Bewick'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 isles

Of farthest Thule; and the Atlantic surge

Pours 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 older 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 was 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) Jane is not here: tell mamma 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 with flabby cheeks. He ought now to have been at school; but his mamma 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 a day, but continually: every nerve I had feared him, and every morsel of flesh on 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 mamma a while 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!"

Accustomed to John Reed's abuse, I never had an idea of replying to it: my care was how to endure the blow which would certainly follow the insult.

"What were you doing behind the curtain?" he asked.

"I was reading."

"Show the book."

I returned to the window and fetched it thence.

"You have no business to take our books; you are a dependant, mamma says; you have no money; your father left you none; you ought to beg, and not to live here with gentlemen's children like us, and eat the same meals we do, and wear clothes at our mamma's expense. Now, I'll teach you to rummage my bookshelves: for they are mine; all the house belongs to me, or will do in a few years. Go and stand by the door, out of the way of the mirror and the windows."

I did so, not at first aware what was his intention; but when I saw him lift and poise the book and stand in act to hurl it, I instinctively started aside with a cry of alarm: not soon enough, however; the volume was flung, it hit me, and I fell, striking my head against the door and cutting it. The cut bled, the pain was sharp: my terror had passed its climax; other feelings succeeded.

"Wicked and cruel boy!" I said. "You are like a murderer--you are like a slave-driver--you are like the Roman emperors!"



前言/序言


《傲慢與偏見》 作者:簡·奧斯汀 類型:經典文學、愛情小說、風俗小說 譯者:[此處可根據實際情況填寫常用譯者,例如:周煦良、王科一、王科等] 版本特點:[此處可根據實際情況填寫,例如:精裝/平裝,附帶導讀/注釋等] --- 內容梗概與主題深度剖析 《傲慢與偏見》(Pride and Prejudice)是英國文學史上最光輝的篇章之一,它以其機智的對白、入木三分的人物刻畫以及對十八世紀末十九世紀初英國鄉紳階層社會風貌的精準描摹,贏得瞭世界範圍內無數讀者的鍾愛。故事的核心圍繞著貝內特(Bennet)傢的五位女兒展開,尤其聚焦於二女兒伊麗莎白·貝內特(Elizabeth Bennet)與富有的達西先生(Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy)之間,從最初的誤解、對立,到最終理解、相愛的復雜曆程。 一、 婚姻的現實與理想的追求 故事的開端,便奠定瞭其強烈的社會背景:“一個擁有大量財産的單身漢,總有一天會需要一個妻子。”這一廣為人知的開場白,毫不掩飾地揭示瞭當時社會對女性而言,婚姻幾乎是唯一的經濟保障和上升途徑。貝內特夫人畢生的心願就是將女兒們嫁入豪門。然而,奧斯汀的高明之處在於,她並未將婚姻僅僅描繪成一樁利益交換,而是將其置於道德、情感和智識的交叉點上。 伊麗莎白是其中最獨特的一位。她擁有敏銳的洞察力、活潑的頭腦和不屈的獨立精神。她拒絕瞭暴躁的堂兄柯林斯先生(Mr. Collins)的求婚,即便這意味著放棄物質保障,也寜願堅持自我。她追求的是建立在相互尊重和真摯情感基礎上的結閤,這在當時無疑是相當前衛的。與之相對,大姐簡·貝內特(Jane Bennet)的美麗與善良讓她成為瞭完美的典範,但她的過於溫和也使得她在復雜的人際關係中容易受到傷害。 二、 傲慢與偏見的雙重陷阱 小說標題直指核心衝突:達西先生的“傲慢”與伊麗莎白的“偏見”。 達西的傲慢(Pride): 達西先生是一位擁有巨額財富和顯赫地位的貴族,他習慣於以社會階層和齣身來衡量一切。初次見麵時,他對伊麗莎白傢族社會地位的輕衊,以及對伊麗莎白“尚可”的評價(“她尚可,但不足以吸引我”),深深地刺傷瞭伊麗莎白的自尊心。他的傲慢源於根深蒂固的階級觀念,使他難以放下身段去平等地看待他人。 伊麗莎白的偏見(Prejudice): 伊麗莎白則因為達西的傲慢以及受威剋漢(Wickham)的花言巧語所濛蔽,對達西形成瞭強烈的負麵看法。她隻相信自己眼見為實的第一印象,並以一種近乎審判者的姿態,固執地拒絕相信達西可能有任何優點。這種偏見使得她錯失瞭對事物本質的判斷,甚至不惜以尖銳的言辭迴擊達西的求婚。 兩人的關係正是這種“傲慢”與“偏見”相互作用的結果。直到達西寫下那封至關重要的解釋信,揭露瞭威剋漢的真實麵目,並解釋瞭他乾預簡與賓利先生(Mr. Bingley)戀情的“苦衷”(源於對簡感情不夠堅定的誤判),伊麗莎白纔開始反思自己的判斷。 三、 人物群像的立體描繪 奧斯汀通過一係列精心構建的配角,豐滿瞭作品的社會畫捲: 賓利先生(Mr. Bingley): 善良、隨和,缺乏主見,是階級偏見(通過他的姐姐們和達西)的犧牲品。 柯林斯先生(Mr. Collins): 教區牧師,一位典型的趨炎附勢、迂腐可笑的人物。他是中産階級對貴族依附心態的諷刺性體現。 夏洛特·盧卡斯(Charlotte Lucas): 伊麗莎白最好的朋友,她接受瞭柯林斯的求婚,選擇瞭“務實”的婚姻。她的選擇為讀者提供瞭對當時社會睏境的另一種嚴肅考量。 威剋漢(George Wickham): 迷人的浪子,以英俊外錶和動聽故事包裝其道德敗壞的本質,是“錶象與真實”主題的關鍵注腳。 拉迪默夫人(Lady Catherine de Bourgh): 達西的姨媽,代錶瞭貴族階層的極端傲慢和對社會等級秩序的僵硬維護。她對伊麗莎白的威壓,反倒進一步激發瞭伊麗莎白的勇氣和對自由意誌的堅持。 四、 精神的成熟與超越階級 小說的後半部分著重描寫瞭伊麗莎白和達西在經曆個人危機和深刻反思後的“重生”。伊麗莎白在達西莊園彭伯利(Pemberley)的訪問中,看到瞭一個更為謙遜、仁慈的達西,一個懂得體恤下人、具有高尚品格的主人。這種環境的改變,促使她審視自己先前基於嫉妒和片麵信息的判斷。 達西也必須剋服他對財富和地位的執念。他最終采取瞭最具個人犧牲精神的行動——匿名幫助解決其小妹莉迪亞(Lydia Bennet)的私奔醜聞。這一舉動不僅展現瞭他對簡·奧斯汀式美德的真正理解(即責任感和正直),也證明瞭他對伊麗莎白深厚的、超越身份的愛。 五、 永恒的價值 《傲慢與偏見》不僅是浪漫小說的典範,更是一部深刻的社會諷刺劇。它探討瞭獨立思考的重要性、真愛必須建立在相互理解之上、以及個人價值如何超越僵化的社會標簽。奧斯汀以其獨特的幽默感和對白藝術,讓這部作品在問世兩百多年後,依然閃耀著智慧的光芒,是瞭解英國維多利亞時代前夕社會結構、習俗和女性命運的不可或缺的文本。 --- 附注: 本書包含深入的文本分析、時代背景介紹以及對主要人物關係發展的詳細注釋,旨在幫助讀者更全麵地理解奧斯汀作品的精妙之處。

用戶評價

評分

選擇這本《簡·愛》的英文原版平裝,是我一直以來的一個小小願望。終於拿到手,它的質感確實沒有讓我失望,紙張的觸感溫潤,印刷清晰,雖然是平裝,但裝訂牢固,翻閱起來非常舒適。我一直認為,文學作品最核心的魅力,在於其原創的語言。中文翻譯雖然精妙,但總歸是隔瞭一層。而閱讀英文原版,就像直接品嘗陳年的佳釀,那種原汁原味的醇厚感,是任何轉述都無法替代的。我尤其喜歡作者在描寫簡·愛內心世界時的那些精巧的詞匯和句子結構,它們能夠精準地傳達齣人物復雜的思緒和情感。每一次閱讀,都能從中體會到英語作為一種語言的細膩和力量,那種情感的層次感和語境的微妙變化,都讓我受益匪淺。這本書,對我而言,不僅僅是一部小說,更是一次沉浸式的語言和情感之旅,而英文原版,無疑是開啓這場旅程的最佳鑰匙。

評分

這本《簡·愛》簡直是打開瞭我對經典文學的另一扇窗!收到的時候,就為這平裝版的質感驚喜不已。不是那種硬邦邦的精裝,也不是 flimsy 的紙質,恰到好處的厚度和柔韌度,拿在手裏,有一種溫暖而踏實的觸感。翻開書頁,那排版和字體,是我一直以來閱讀英文原版書籍所鍾愛的類型,清晰、優雅,字裏行間似乎帶著一種沉靜的力量,仿佛作者本人就坐在我對麵,娓娓道來。我一直對英語的細微之處和錶達方式很感興趣,而閱讀原版《簡·愛》,無疑是一種極緻的體驗。那些在中文翻譯中可能會被削弱或改變的語境、情感的微妙層次,在英文原著裏得到瞭最直接、最生動的展現。我常常會停下來,反復咀嚼某個詞匯,或者某一句的句式結構,體會它所傳達齣的力量感和情感張力。每一次閱讀,都能從中獲得新的理解和感悟,這種沉浸式的閱讀體驗,是任何摘要或解讀都無法比擬的。這本書不僅僅是一本書,更像是一位老友,在寂靜的夜晚,陪我一同經曆那些起伏跌宕的人生。

評分

這本《簡·愛》英文原版,是我近期閱讀體驗中最滿意的一次。平裝的設計,讓我覺得更加親切和實用,我可以隨身攜帶,隨時隨地沉浸其中。打開書,我就被那種古樸典雅的排版風格吸引瞭,字體大小適中,印刷清晰,閱讀起來非常舒服,一點都不會感到疲憊。我一直對英語文學有著濃厚的興趣,而《簡·愛》作為一部世界名著,用英文原版來閱讀,對我來說,是一種至高無上的享受。我能夠直接感受到作者對於人物內心世界的細緻描繪,那些細膩的情感,那些深刻的哲思,都通過英文的語匯和句式,得到最淋灕盡緻的錶達。每一次翻開這本書,我都會被簡·愛那堅韌不拔的精神所打動,她對愛情的忠誠,對自由的嚮往,都通過她自己的語言,變得更加鮮活、更加震撼。這本書,不隻是一個故事,更是一次心靈的洗禮,而英文原版,則讓我得到瞭最純粹、最深刻的體驗。

評分

我對這本《簡·愛》的喜愛,很大程度上源於它那份純粹的、不加修飾的英文錶達。我一直認為,想要真正理解一個故事的靈魂,最好的方式就是去讀它的源頭。中文翻譯固然精彩,但總會有一些難以跨越的文化和語言鴻溝。而這本平裝版的英文原著,就像一麵清澈的鏡子,讓我得以窺見夏洛蒂·勃朗特筆下那個獨立、堅韌的靈魂最真實的麵貌。我特彆喜歡它在細節上的描繪,那些關於人物內心世界的細膩刻畫,通過英文的語匯和句式,顯得更加深刻和震撼。我常常會沉浸在簡·愛那些充滿力量的內心獨白中,感受她所承受的痛苦、她內心的掙紮,以及她對自由和尊嚴的不懈追求。每一次閱讀,都能感受到語言的魅力,那種精準、生動,又充滿情感張力的錶達,讓人拍案叫絕。這本書不僅僅是一部小說,更像是一堂關於人性、關於勇氣、關於愛的深刻課程,而英文原版,則是我學習這堂課程最直接、最有效的方式。

評分

這本《簡·愛》的平裝版本,對我來說,絕對是物超所值的一次購買。拿到手裏的時候,就覺得它有一種低調的質感,不張揚,卻透露齣一種沉甸甸的分量。頁麵的紙質、印刷的清晰度,都完全符閤我對一本好書的期待。更重要的是,閱讀英文原版,讓我有機會去感受夏洛蒂·勃朗特文字的原汁原味。我一直覺得,語言是思想的載體,而英文的錶達方式,尤其是19世紀的文學語言,有著其獨特的韻味和魅力。通過閱讀這本原著,我能夠更深入地理解簡·愛這個角色的復雜性,以及她所處的社會環境對她的影響。那些英文單詞的選用,那些句子的排列組閤,都仿佛在訴說著一個鮮活的故事,讓我身臨其境。我常常會因為某個詞語的精準錶達而驚嘆,或者因為某個句子所蘊含的情感深度而動容。這本書,不僅讓我重溫瞭經典,更是一次對英語學習的極大促進。

評分

比不上國內地攤2塊的盜版書,退迴還得不償失,京東不應該這樣消費彆人的信任!

評分

質量很差!就這麼小小的兩本,看著很久,紙張跟報紙似的。送初中生的,結果拿不齣手

評分

在京東買的最多的就是書啦~領券買名著很劃算啊。

評分

兒童節送給孩子的,書的質量很好,一個暑假夠看瞭

評分

不錯?

評分

小孩學習用,物流挺快的,書質量也好。

評分

很好看的英文書籍,經典很有收藏價值

評分

一本書壓彎瞭半邊放在裏麵,髒兮兮的,紙張廉價,再也不敢在京東買書。

評分

垃圾盜版書,建議不要買

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