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出门在外也不愁《the story of an hour》这个故事讲的是什么？
《the story of an hour》这个故事讲的是什么？
08-09-18 & 发布
The story of an hour
大家都知道马兰德夫人的心脏有毛病，所以在把她丈夫的死讯告诉她时都是小心翼翼的，尽可能地温和委婉。坏消息是她的姐姐约瑟芬告诉她的，她连话都没说成句，只是遮遮掩掩地向她暗示。她丈夫的朋友理查兹也在场。当火车事故的消息传来的时候，理查兹正好在报社里，遇难者名单上布兰特雷·马兰德的名字排在第一个……
Knowing that Mrs. Mallard was afflicted with a heart trouble, great care was taken to break to her as gently as possible the news of her husband's death.
It was her sister Josephine who told her, in broken sentences, veiled hints that revealed in half concealing. Her husband's friend Richards was there, too, near her. It was he who had been in the newspaper office when intelligence of the railroad disaster was received, with Brently Mallard's name leading the list of &killed.& He had only taken the time to assure himself of its truth by a second telegram, and had hastened to forestall any less careful, less tender friend in bearing the sad message.
She did not hear the story as many women have heard the same, with a paralyzed inability to accept its significance. She wept at once, with sudden, wild abandonment, in her sister's arms. When the storm of grief had spent itself she went away to her room alone. She would have no one follow her.
There stood, facing the open window, a comfortable, roomy armchair. Into this she sank, pressed down by a physical exhaustion that haunted her body and seemed to reach into her soul.
She could see in the open square before her house the tops of trees that were all aquiver with the new spring life. The delicious breath of rain was in the air. In the street below a peddler was crying his wares. The notes of a distant song which some one was singing reached her faintly, and countless sparrows were twittering in the eaves.
There were patches of blue sky showing here and there through the clouds that had met and piled above the other in the west facing her window.
She sat with her head thrown back upon the cushion of the chair, quite motionless, except when a sob came up into her throat and shook her, as a child who has cried itself to sleep continues to sob in its dreams.
She was young, with a fair, calm face, whose lines bespoke repression and even a certain strength. But now there was a dull stare in her eyes, whose gaze was fixed away off yonder on one of those patches of blue sky. It was not a glance of reflection, but rather indicated a suspension of intelligent thought.
There was something coming to her and she was waiting for it, fearfully. What was it? S it was too subtle and elusive to name. But she felt it, creeping out of the sky, reaching toward her through the sounds, the scents, the color that filled the air.
Now her bosom rose and fell tumultuously. She was beginning to recognize this thing that was approaching to possess her, and she was striving to beat it back with her will-as powerless as her two white slender hands would have been.
When she abandoned herself a little whispered word escaped her slightly parted lips. She said it over and over under her breath: &Free, free, free!& The vacant stare and the look of terror that had followed it went from her eyes. They stayed keen and bright. Her pulses beat fast, and the coursing blood warmed and relaxed every inch of her body.
She did not stop to ask if it were or were not a monstrous joy that held her. A clear and exalted perception enabled her to dismiss the suggestion as trivial.
She knew that she would weep again when she saw the kind, tender h the face that had never looked save with love upon her, fixed and gray and dead. But she saw beyond that bitter moment a long procession of years to come that would belong to her absolutely. And she opened and spread her arms out to them in welcome.
There would be no one to live for her durin she would live for herself. There would be no powerful will bending her in that blind persistence with which men and women believe they have a right to impose a private will upon a fellow-creature. A kind intention or a cruel intention made the act seem no less a crime as she looked upon it in that brief moment of illumination.
And yet she had loved him-sometimes. Often she had not. What did it matter! What could love, the unsolved mystery, count for in face of this possession of self-assertion, which she suddenly recognized as the strongest impulse of her being!
&Free! Body and soul free!& she kept whispering.
Josephine was kneeling before the closed door with her lips to the keyhole,imploring for admission. &Louise, open the door! I open the door-you will make yourself ill. What are you doing, Louise? For heaven's sake open the door.&
&Go away. I am not making myself ill.& No; she was drinking in a very elixir of life through that open window.
Her fancy was running riot along those days ahead of her. Spring days, and summer days, and all sorts of days that would be her own. She breathed a quick prayer that life might be long. It was only yesterday she had thought with a shudder that life might be long.
She arose at length and opened the door to her sister's importunities. There was a feverish triumph in her eyes, and she carried herself unwittingly like a goddess of Victory. She clasped her sister's waist, and together they descended the stairs. Richards stood waiting for them at the bottom.
Someone was opening the front door with a latchkey. It was Brently Mallard who entered, a little travel-stained, composedly carrying his gripsack and umbrella. He had been far from the scene of accident, and did not even know there had been one. He stood amazed at Josephine' at Richards' quick motion to screen him from the view of his wife.
But Richards was too late.
When the doctors came they said she had died of heart disease-of joy that kills.
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The Story of an Hour
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The Story of an Hour
Kate Chopin
【故事梗概】
&路易丝的丈夫布伦特里的朋友理查兹带来不幸消息，说布伦特里已在火车事故中不幸身亡。将这一不幸消息告诉路易丝的是她的姐姐约瑟芬。路易丝本来就心脏不好，得知这一不幸时扑到姐姐怀里放声大哭，泪水就像突然降临的暴雨一般。哭过一阵子之后，她独自回到房间，关上门，不让任何人进去。
她疲惫地坐在临窗的一张大扶手椅里，不停地哽咽着。她看到窗外一片春意盎然的景象，空气中透出雨水的气息；她听到街上小贩在叫卖着货物，远处有人在唱歌，无数的麻雀在叽叽喳喳地叫着。
她很年轻，白皙、安详的脸上显露出压抑乃至一种莫名的力量。此时的她目光茫然地注视着蓝天。
有一种感觉向她悄悄袭来，她在恐惧地等待着。她不知道这种感觉是什么，因为它太微妙了，难以言表。后来她渐渐意识到这种感觉究竟是什么，并力图用自己的意志力把它压制下去。但一切努力都是徒劳的。她脱口而出：自由了，自由了。是的，她再也不要屈服于别人的意志了，她可以做自己的主人了。
她有时爱自己的丈夫，但大多数时间她并不爱他。她现在明白了，自由比爱情更令人心旷神怡。她开始憧憬着未来美好的日子——属于自己的日子。最后在姐姐的再三恳求下，她起身打开了门。此时的她，目光有神，脸色红润，显出从未有过的健康。她和姐姐一起下了楼，理查兹正在楼下等着。
这时，有人用钥匙打开了门，进来的不是别人，正是路易丝的丈夫布伦特里。他风尘仆仆，手提旅行包，拿着雨伞。他压根就不知道发生了什么车祸，因此他搞不懂，为什么约瑟芬看到他回来时会那样惊叫，为什么理查兹会那么快地一个箭步上前，试图把他挡住，好让路易丝不要看见他。可是，理查兹的动作稍嫌晚了些，路易丝还是看到了自己的丈夫。
&医生赶到时，说路易丝因喜悦过度而死于心脏病。
【作品欣赏】
Knowing that Mrs. Mallard was afflicted with a heart trouble, great care was taken to break to her as gently as possible the news of her husband's death.&
It was her sister Josephine who told her, veiled hints that revealed in half concealing. Her husband's friend Richards was there, too, near her. It was he who had been in the newspaper office when intelligence of the railroad disaster was received, with Brently Mallard's name leading the list of &killed.& He had only taken the time to assure himself of its truth by a second telegram, and had hastened to forestall any less careful, less tender friend in bearing the sad message.&
She did not hear the story as many women have heard the same, with a paralyzed inability to accept its significance. She wept at once, with sudden, wild abandonment, in her sister's arms. When the storm of grief had spent itself she went away to her room alone. She would have no one follow her.&
There stood, facing the open window, a comfortable, roomy armchair. Into this she sank, pressed down by a physical exhaustion that haunted her body and seemed to reach into her soul.&
She could see in the open square before her house the tops of trees that were all aquiver with the new spring life. The delicious breath of rain was in the air. In the street below a peddler was crying his wares. The notes of a distant song which some one was singing reached her faintly, and countless sparrows were twittering in the eaves.&
There were patches of blue sky showing here and there through the clouds that had met and piled one above the other in the west facing her window.&
She sat with her head thrown back upon the cushion of the chair, quite motionless, except when a sob came up into her throat and shook her, as a child who has cried itself to sleep continues to sob in its dreams.&
She was young, with a fair, calm face, whose lines bespoke repression and even a certain strength. But now there was a dull stare in her eyes, whose gaze was fixed away off yonder on one of those patches of blue sky. It was not a glance of reflection, but rather indicated a suspension of intelligent thought.&
There was something coming to her and she was waiting for it, fearfully. What was it? S it was too subtle and elusive to name. But she felt it, creeping out of the sky, reaching toward her through the sounds, the scents, the color that filled the air.&
Now her bosom rose and fell tumultuously. She was beginning to recognize this thing that was approaching to possess her, and she was striving to beat it back with her will--as powerless as her two white slender hands would have been. When she abandoned herself a little whispered word escaped her slightly parted lips. She said it over and over under hte breath: &free, free, free!& The vacant stare and the look of terror that had followed it went from her eyes. They stayed keen and bright. Her pulses beat fast, and the coursing blood warmed and relaxed every inch of her body.&
She did not stop to ask if it were or were not a monstrous joy that held her. A clear and exalted perception enabled her to dismiss the suggestion as trivial. She knew that she would weep again when she saw the kind, tender h the face that had never looked save with love upon her, fixed and gray and dead. But she saw beyond that bitter moment a long procession of years to come that would belong to her absolutely. And she opened and spread her arms out to them in welcome.&
There would be no one to live for durin she would live for herself. There would be no powerful will bending hers in that blind persistence with which men and women believe they have a right to impose a private will upon a fellow-creature. A kind intention or a cruel intention made the act seem no less a crime as she looked upon it in that brief moment of illumination.&
And yet she had loved him--sometimes. Often she had not. What did it matter! What could love, the unsolved mystery, count for in the face of this possession of self-assertion which she suddenly recognized as the strongest impulse of her being!&
&Free! Body and soul free!& she kept whispering.&
Josephine was kneeling before the closed door with her lips to the keyhold, imploring for admission. &Louise, open the door! I open the door--you will make yourself ill. What are you doing, Louise? For heaven's sake open the door.&&
&Go away. I am not making myself ill.& No; she was drinking in a very elixir of life through that open window.&
Her fancy was running riot along those days ahead of her. Spring days, and summer days, and all sorts of days that would be her own. She breathed a quick prayer that life might be long. It was only yesterday she had thought with a shudder that life might be long.&
She arose at length and opened the door to her sister's importunities. There was a feverish triumph in her eyes, and she carried herself unwittingly like a goddess of Victory. She clasped her sister's waist, and together they descended the stairs. Richards stood waiting for them at the bottom.&
Some one was opening the front door with a latchkey. It was Brently Mallard who entered, a little travel-stained, composedly carrying his grip-sack and umbrella. He had been far from the scene of the accident, and did not even know there had been one. He stood amazed at Josephine' at Richards' quick motion to screen him from the view of his wife.&
When the doctors came they said she had died of heart disease--of the joy that kills.&
【教师点评】
据说这个小小短篇发表后曾引起美国舆论的谴责。理由是作品中的主人公路易丝颇不道德，她在得知丈夫死讯后，非但没有悲痛之情，反而有种前所未有的释放、自由、喜悦之感，好像婚姻是枷锁，已婚妇女的自由要以丈夫的死亡为代价方能换得。在部分批评家看来，小说的这一题旨，无疑从一个侧面反映了小说家肖邦本人的阴暗心理，它挑战着人类传统的家庭婚姻制度，所以常常被认为是不道德的。其实，我们大可不必这样看。从故事的结局看，作者的艺术安排另有一番匠心，我们完全可以从另外一个角度来考察作者的道德立场；我们甚至可以说，这是个非常道德的短篇。毕竟，路易丝后来是不得好死——因喜悦过度，导致心脏病突发而猝死，这就是一个很好的证明。
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The Story of an Hour
Knowing that Mrs. Mallard was afflicted with a heart trouble, great care was taken to break to her as gently as possible the news of her husband`s death. It was her sister Josephine who told her, veiled hints that revealed in half concealing. Her husband`s friend Richards was there, too, near her. It was he who had been in the newspaper office when intelligence of the railroad disaster was received, with Brently Mallard`s name leading the list of ?killed.?He had only taken the time to assure himself of its truth by a second telegram, and had hastened to forestall any less careful, less tender friend in bearing the sad message. She did not hear the story as many women have heard the same, with a paralyzed inability to accept its significance. She wept at once, with sudden, wild abandonment, in her sister`s arms. When the storm of grief had spent itself she went away to her room alone. She would have no one follow her. There stood, facing the open window, a comfortable, roomy armchair. Into this she sank, pressed down by a physical exhaustion that haunted her body and seemed to reach into her soul. She could see in the open square before her house the tops of trees that were all aquiver with the new spring life. The delicious breath of rain was in the air. In the street below a peddler was crying his wares. The notes of a distant song which some one was singing reached her faintly, and countless sparrows were twittering in the eaves. There were patches of blue sky showing here and there through the clouds that had met and piled one above the other in the west facing her window.SparkNotes: The Story of an Hour: Themes, Motifs, and Symbols
& Themes, Motifs, and Symbols
Themes, Motifs, and Symbols
The Story of an HourKate Chopin
Themes, Motifs, and SymbolsAnalysis of Major CharactersStructure and Style
The Forbidden Joy of Independence
In &The Story of an Hour,& independence is a forbidden pleasure that can be imagined only privately. When Louise hears from Josephine and Richards of Brently&s death, she reacts with obvious grief, and although her reaction is perhaps more violent than other women&s, it is an appropriate one. Alone, however, Louise begins to realize that she is now an independent woman, a realization that enlivens and excites her. Even though these are her private thoughts, she at first tries to squelch the joy she feels, to &beat it back with her will.& Such resistance reveals how forbidden this pleasure really is. When she finally does acknowledge the joy, she feels possessed by it and must abandon herself to it as the word free escapes her lips. Louise&s life offers no refuge for this kind of joy, and the rest of society will never accept it or understand it. Extreme circumstances have given Louise a taste of this forbidden fruit, and her thoughts are, in turn, extreme. She sees her life as being absolutely hers and her new independence as the core of her being. Overwhelmed, Louise even turns to prayer, hoping for a long life in which to enjoy this feeling. When Brently returns, he unwittingly yanks Louise&s independence away from her, putting it once again out of her reach. The forbidden joy disappears as quickly as it came, but the taste of it is enough to kill her.
The Inherent Oppressiveness of Marriage
Chopin suggests that all marriages, even the kindest ones, are inherently oppressive. Louise, who readily admits that her husband was kind and loving, nonetheless feels joy when she believes that he has died. Her reaction doesn&t suggest any malice, and Louise knows that she&ll cry at Brently&s funeral. However, despite the love between husband and wife, Louise views Brently&s death as a release from oppression. She never names a specific way in which Brently oppressed her, hinting instead that marriage in general stifles both women and men. She even seems to suggest that she oppressed Brently just as much as he oppressed her. Louise&s epiphany in which these thoughts parade through her mind reveals the inherent oppressiveness of all marriages, which by their nature rob people of their independence.
Louise&s weeping about Brently&s death highlight the dichotomy between sorrow and happiness. Louise cries or thinks about crying for about three-quarters of &The Story of an Hour,& stopping only when she thinks of her new freedom. Crying is part of her life with Brently, but it will presumably be absent from her life as an independent woman. At the beginning of the story, Louise sobs dramatically when she learns that Brently is dead, enduring a &storm of grief.& She continues weeping when she is alone in her room, although the crying now is unconscious, more a physical reflex than anything spurred by emotion. She imagines herself crying over Brently&s dead body. Once the funeral is over in her fantasies, however, there is no further mention of crying because she&s consumed with happiness.
Heart Trouble
The heart trouble that afflicts Louise is both a physical and symbolic malady that represents her ambivalence toward her marriage and unhappiness with her lack of freedom. The fact that Louise has heart trouble is the first thing we learn about her, and this heart trouble is what seems to make the announcement of Brently&s death so threatening. A person with a weak heart, after all, would not deal well with such news. When Louise reflects on her new independence, her heart races, pumping blood through her veins. When she dies at the end of the story, the diagnosis of &heart disease& seems appropriate because the shock of seeing Brently was surely enough to kill her. But the doctors& conclusion that she&d died of overwhelming joy is ironic because it had been the loss of joy that had actually killed her. Indeed, Louise seems to have died of a broken heart, caused by the sudden loss of her much-loved independence.
The Open Window
The open window from which Louise gazes for much of the story represents the freedom and opportunities that await her after her husband has died. From the window, Louise sees blue sky, fluffy clouds, and treetops. She hears people and birds singing and smells a coming rainstorm. Everything that she experiences through her senses suggests joy and spring&new life. And when she ponders the sky, she feels the first hints of elation. Once she fully indulges in this excitement, she feels that the open window is providing her with life itself. The open window provides a clear, bright view into the distance and Louise&s own bright future, which is now unobstructed by the demands of another person. It&s therefore no coincidence that when Louise turns from the window and the view, she quickly loses her freedom as well.
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