发表于2025-01-06
伊迪丝·华顿(Edith Wharton, 1862年1月24日-1937年8月11日),是19 世纪末女性现实主义作家的代表,她的一生推出了近十余部作品,包括中、长篇小说、诗歌、传记和文学批评等不同体裁。由于她生活的局限性,她的小说一般都是以一种极其细腻的手法描写着贵族生活,所以也被人称为温和现实主义作家。美国女作家,作品有《高尚的嗜好》、《纯真年代》、《四月里的阵雨》、《马恩河》、《战地英雄》等书。
ON A January evening of the early seventies, Christine Nilsson was singing in "Faust" at the Academy of Music in New York.
Though there was already talk of the erection, in remote metropolitan distances "above the Forties," of a new Opera House which should compete in costliness and splendour with those of the great European capitals, the world of fashion was still content to reassemble every winter in the shabby red and gold boxes of the sociable old Academy. Conservatives cherished it for being small and inconvenient, and thus keeping out the "new people" whom New York was beginning to dread and yet be drawn to; and the sentimental clung to it for its historic associations, and the musical for its excellent acoustics, always so problematic a quality in halls built for the hearing of music.
It was Madame Nilsson's first appearance that winter, and what the daily press had already learned to describe as "an exceptionally brilliant audience" had gathered to hear her, transported through the slippery, snowy streets in private broughams, in the spacious family landau, or in the humbler but more convenient "Brown coupé." To come to the Opera in a Brown coupe was almost as honourable a way of arriving as in one's own carriage; and departure by the same means had the immense advantage of enabling one (with a playful allusion to democratic principles) to scramble into the first Brown conveyance in the line, instead of waiting till the cold-and-gin congested nose of one's own coachman gleamed under the portico of the Academy. It was one of the great livery-stableman's most masterly intuitions to have discovered that Americans want to get away from amusement even more quickly than they want to get to it.
When Newland Archer opened the door at the back of the club box the curtain had just gone up on the garden scene. There was no reason why the young man should not have come earlier, for he had dined at seven, alone with his mother and sister, and had lingered afterward over a cigar in the Gothic library with glazed black-walnut bookcases and finial-topped chairs which was the only room in the house where Mrs. Archer allowed smoking. But, in the first place, New York was a metropolis, and perfectly aware that in metropolises it was "not the thing" to arrive early at the opera; and what was or was not "the thing" played a part as important in Newland Archer's New York as the inscrutable totem terrors that had ruled the destinies of his forefathers thousands of years ago.
The second reason for his delay was a personal one. He had dawdled over his cigar because he was at heart a dilettante, and thinking over a pleasure to come often gave him a subtler satisfaction than its realisation. This was especially the case when the pleasure was a delicate one, as his pleasures mostly were; and on this occasion the moment he looked forward to was so rare and exquisite in quality that—well, if he had timed his arrival in accord with the prima donna's stage-manager he could not have entered the Academy at a more significant moment than just as she was singing: "He loves me—he loves me not—he loves me!—" and sprinkling the falling daisy petals with notes as clear as dew.
She sang, of course, "M'ama!" and not "he loves me," since an unalterable and unquestioned law of the musical world required that the German text of French operas sung by Swedish artists should be translated into Italian for the clearer understanding of English-speaking audiences. This seemed as natural to Newland Archer as all the other conventions on which his life was moulded: such as the duty of using two silver-backed brushes with his monogram in blue enamel to part his hair, and of never appearing in society without a flower (preferably a gardenia) in his buttonhole.
"M'ama . . . non m'ama . . ." the prima donna sang, and "M'ama!" with a final burst of love triumphant, as she pressed the dishevelled daisy to her lips and lifted her large eyes to the sophisticated countenance of the little brown Faust-Capoul, who was vainly trying, in a tight purple velvet doublet and plumed cap, to look as pure and true as his artless victim.
Newland Archer, leaning against the wall at the back of the club box, turned his eyes from the stage and scanned the opposite side of the house. Directly facing him was the box of old Mrs. Manson Mingott, whose monstrous obesity had long since made it impossible for her to attend the Opera, but who was always represented on fashionable nights by some of the younger members of the family. On this occasion, the front of the box was filled by her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Lovell Mingott, and her daughter, Mrs. Welland; and slightly withdrawn behind these brocaded matrons sat a young girl in white with eyes ecstatically fixed on the stage lovers. As Madame Nilsson's "M'ama!" thrilled out above the silent house (the boxes always stopped talking during the Daisy Song) a warm pink mounted to the girl's cheek, mantled her brow to the roots of her fair braids, and suffused the young slope of her breast to the line where it met a modest tulle tucker fastened with a single gardenia. She dropped her eyes to the immense bouquet of lilies-of-the-valley on her knee, and Newland Archer saw her white-gloved finger-tips touch the flowers softly. He drew a breath of satisfied vanity and his eyes returned to the stage.
No expense had been spared on the setting, which was acknowledged to be very beautiful even by people who shared his acquaintance with the Opera Houses of Paris and Vienna. The foreground, to the footlights, was covered with emerald green cloth. In the middle distance symmetrical mounds of woolly green moss bounded by croquet hoops formed the base of shrubs shaped like orange-trees but studded with large pink and red roses. Gigantic pansies, considerably larger than the roses, and closely resembling the floral pen-wipers made by female parishioners for fashionable clergymen, sprang from the moss beneath the rose-trees; and here and there a daisy grafted on a rose-branch flowered with a luxuriance prophetic of Mr. Luther Burbank's far-off prodigies.
In the centre of this enchanted garden Madame Nilsson, in white cashmere slashed with pale blue satin, a reticule dangling from a blue girdle, and large yellow braids carefully disposed on each side of her muslin chemisette, listened with downcast eyes to M. Capoul's impassioned wooing, and affected a guileless incomprehension of his designs whenever, by word or glance, he persuasively indicated the ground floor window of the neat brick villa projecting obliquely from the right wing.
"The darling!" though The Age of Innocence[纯真年代] [平装] 下载 mobi epub pdf txt 电子书 格式
The Age of Innocence[纯真年代] [平装] 下载 mobi pdf epub txt 电子书 格式 2025
The Age of Innocence[纯真年代] [平装] 下载 mobi epub pdf 电子书就我买时的价钱来说是相当划算的,打算回家再看,毕业前的最后一批书。
评分而逃犯的妻子刚生下了他们的女儿埃·斯黛拉,逃犯的妻子因为一起杀人罪被起诉,郝维辛小姐的律师帮助她摆脱了牢狱之灾,并把她的女儿埃·斯黛拉献给郝维辛小姐,然后用杀人罪和女儿的前途作威胁,因为杀人犯的女儿理应也被关进监狱,结果律师成功地让那逃犯的妻子老老实实地为他做了20几年的奴隶。
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Penguin US 版 纯真时代,很好的原版书!
评分我们可以把握自己的命运,可那些羁绊和琐碎的现实无形中消磨了我们的勇气。我们一次次地把自己的命运交到别人手中,那是不负责任还是太负责任?
评分很好啊,又快质量又好
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原版进口的图书,印刷质量超好,而且分量非常轻。在京东买东西放心。还会在京东买的。
评分詹姆和布雷妮的南下君临之路,完成了对詹姆的洗白。第一季那个鲁莽、浮夸的年轻人已经随着那只断掉的右手死掉了。近朱者赤近墨者黑,和瑟曦在一起的詹姆就是精虫上脑的莽夫,但和布雷妮同行之后,布雷妮身上那种强烈的道德意识、荣誉观念和生存意志都在积极地方面影响着詹姆。临行道别时,詹姆的真诚换取了布雷妮的信任,这是第一次,他人看待詹姆的眼神不是嘲笑不是愤怒而是相信,那一句“再见,杰米爵士”(都叫昵称了啊!在一起!)让人动容。而詹姆行至一半又折返回赫伦堡,将布雷妮从熊口中救出,不管是原著还是电视剧,这一幕里的詹姆可谓是热血真汉子!尽管没有靓丽的白袍,但是这一刻他就是一个真英雄。(20130513)
The Age of Innocence[纯真年代] [平装] mobi epub pdf txt 电子书 格式下载 2025