呼啸山庄-世界文学经典读本-(英文版) 本书特色
以世界公认的经典版本为底本，仔细对照原版，精心编辑，选取与原版书相同的字体、相近的开本，并在装帧设计与印装质量上严格把关、精益求精。是一套与原版图书质量不分轩轾，但价格低廉得多的经典读本。 1. “世界文学经典读本”（英文原版）是专为中学生及英语爱好者精心打造的一款英文小说系列。与“大道行思”的其他产品一样，这个原版系列亦秉持公司的精品战略，在文字的校对质量及制作方面精益求精，努力通过我们诚意、勤恳的职场精神向读者奉献好的产品。 2. 丛书特聘许渊冲、屠岸、高莽、文洁若、乐黛云、成中英、柳鸣九、叶廷芳等著名学者、翻译家为学术顾问，从英美等主流文化中遴选具有广泛影响、多年来深受各国学生喜爱的优秀作品，旨在使学生在阅读中广闻博见，逐渐增强其对英语文学的兴趣及语感。 3. 丛书采择英、美等国著名出版机构通行的版本，努力呈现小说的原始风貌，使学生有机会品尝到原汁原味的英文名著。 4. 丛书从纸张到封面设计、开本规格，以及内文版式、行距、字体、字高、标点等方面，一律采用国际上英文图书的通行样式，与国外进口制品无异。
呼啸山庄-世界文学经典读本-(英文版) 内容简介
《呼啸山庄》讲述的是爱情与复仇的故事。吉卜赛弃儿希斯克利夫被山庄老主人恩肖收养，与主人的独生女儿凯瑟琳相恋，受到凯瑟琳哥哥的阻挠与凌辱，愤而出走。后希斯克利夫致富归来，对山庄年轻的主人及与其女友凯瑟琳结婚的地主林顿进行疯狂的报复。凯瑟琳婚后不幸，凄然离世；希斯克利夫在达到复仇目的之后亦在悒郁和神经错乱中死去。 通过这一爱情故事，作者似乎在向人们展示一幅畸形的现实人生图画，正是这个畸形的社会现实扭曲了人性，造成种种光怪陆离、可憎可怖的事件，给山庄及生活在山庄的人们的心头罩上一层沉重的阴霾。小说用纯正的盎格鲁－撒克逊语写成，字里行间洋溢着汪洋恣肆、酣畅淋漓的诗意，这在维多利亚时代的女作家群中恐怕是仅有的。
呼啸山庄-世界文学经典读本-(英文版) 目录
Contents
Chapter I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 001
Chapter II . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 005
Chapter III . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 012
Chapter IV . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 021
Chapter V . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 026
Chapter VI . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 029
Chapter VII . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 034
Chapter VIII . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 042
Chapter IX . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 048
Chapter X . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 060
Chapter XI . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 073
Chapter XII . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 081
Chapter XIII . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 090
Chapter XIV . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 098
Chapter XV . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 104
Chapter XVI . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 110
Chapter XVII . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 113
Chapter XVIII . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 126
Chapter XIX . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 133
Chapter XX . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 137
Chapter XXI . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 141
Chapter XXII . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 154
Chapter XXIII . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158
Chapter XXIV . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 164
Chapter XXV . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 171
Chapter XXVI . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 174
Chapter XXVII . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 177
Chapter XXVIII . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 186
Chapter XXIX . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 191
Chapter XXX . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 195
Chapter XXXI . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 200
Chapter XXXII . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 204
Chapter XXXIII . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 213
Chapter XXXIV . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 219
呼啸山庄-世界文学经典读本-(英文版) 节选
Chapter I1801I 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 arm-chair, 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.……
呼啸山庄-世界文学经典读本-(英文版) 作者简介
艾米莉·勃朗特（Emily Bront? ，1818－1848）是《简·爱》的作者夏洛蒂勃朗特的妹妹，虽一生只活了三十岁，作品也仅此一部，但她作为维多利亚时代天才的女作家的地位是不可动摇的。她和姐姐一同生长在约克郡一片荒原上贫穷的牧师家庭，既没受过系统的教育，也从未有过恋爱经验，然而，男女爱情在她的笔下竟被表现得如此缠绵凄绝、刻骨铭心，实在令许多学者百思不得其解。 两位女作家的父亲帕特里克·勃朗特来自北爱尔兰，母亲是威尔士人，都属于英伦三岛古老的凯尔特人，具有冲动的浪漫气质。一些传记作家告诉我们，艾米莉生性独立、豁达、纯真、刚毅，而又有些内向，颇有些男儿气概，对家乡的欧石楠荒原充满了诚挚的热爱，平素喜爱在荒原上漫步。我们或许略可从中一窥女作家内中火热的情怀。
