一个青年艺术家的画像（英文版）

CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V

作者:(爱)乔伊斯
乔伊斯，爱尔兰有名小说家，也是现代文坛极具很好不错与影响力的作家。1882年出生于都柏林。曾在都柏林大学攻读语言学，博览群书。毕业后前往巴黎，靠写书评和教英语为生，后来将这一时期的书评和美学笔记汇编成《詹姆斯·乔伊斯评论文集》，于1959年出版。

1903年因母亲病危回国。1904年开始，应邀为《爱尔兰农家》杂志撰定短篇小说，共十五篇，后集结以《都柏林人》为书名出版，颇受好评。之后陆续发表的《一个青年艺术家的肖像》等，因成功地融合了象征主义和现实主义，也引起极大的反响。
1922年，其代表作《尤利西斯》在巴黎出版书中所采用的“意识流”创作手法，引起诸多讨论和瞩目，影响亦颇为深远。乔伊斯的其他代表作品还有《为芬尼根守灵》等。

He blessed himself and climbed quickly into bed and， tucking the end of the nightshirt under his feet， curled himself together under the cold white sheets， shaking and trembling. But he would not go to hell when he died; and the shaking would stop. A voice bade the boys in the dormitory good night. He peered out for an instant over the coverlet and saw the yellow curtains round and before his bed that shut him off on all sides.
The light was lowered quietly
The prefect's shoes went away. Where？ Down the staircase and along the corridors or to his room at the end？ He saw the dark. Was it true about the black dog that walked there at night with eyes as big as carriage-lamps？ They said it was the ghost of a murderer. A long shiver of fear flowed over his body He saw the dark entrance hall of the castle. Old servants in old dress were in the ironing-room above the staircase. It was long ago. The old servants were quiet. There was a fire there， but the hall was still dark. A figure came up the staircase from the hall. He wore the white cloak of a marshal; his face was pale and strange; he held his hand pressed to his side. He looked out of strange eyes at the old servants.They looked at him and saw their master's face and cloak and knew that he had received his death-wound. But only the dark was where they looked: only dark silent air. Their master had received his death-wound on the battlefield of Prague far away over the sea. He was standing on the field; his hand was pressed to his side; his face was pale and strange and he wore the white cloak of a marshal.
O how cold and strange it was to think of that！ All the dark was cold and strange. There were pale strange faces there， great eyes like carriage-lamps.They were the ghosts of murderers， the figures of marshals who hadreceived their death-wound on battlefields far away over the sea. Whatdid they wish to say that their faces were so strange？
VISIT， WE BESEECH THEE， 0 LORD， THIS HABITATION AND DRIVEAWAYFROM ITALL... Going home for the holidays！ That would be lovely: the fellows had toldhim. Getting up on the cars in the early wintry morning outside the doorof the castle. The cars were rolling on the gravel. Cheers for the rector！ Hurray！ Hurray！ Hurray！ The cars drove past the chapel and all caps were raised. They drove merrily along the country roads. The drivers pointed with their whips to Bodenstown. The fellows cheered. They passed the farmhouse of the Jolly Farmer. Cheer after cheer after cheer. Through Clane they drove， cheering and cheered. The peasant women stood at the half-doors， the men stood here and there. The lovely smell there was in the wintry air: the smell of Clane: rain and wintry air and turf smouldering and corduroy The train was full of fellows: a long long chocolate train with cream facings. The guards went to and fro opening， closing， locking， unlocking the doors. They were men in dark blue and silver; they had silvery whistles and their keys made a quick music: click， click: click， click. And the train raced on over the fiat lands and past the Hill of Allen.The telegraph poles were passing， passing. The train went on and on. It knew. There were lanterns in the hall of his father's house and ropes of green branches. There were holly and ivy round the pierglass and holly and ivy， green and red， twined round the chandeliers. There were red holly and green ivy round the old portraits on the walls. Holly and ivy for him and for Christmas.
Lovely..
All the people. Welcome home， Stephen！ Noises of welcome. His mother kissed him. Was that right？ His father was a marshal now: higher than a magistrate. Welcome home， Stephen！
Noises...
There was a noise of curtain-rings running back along the rods， of water being splashed in the basins. There was a noise of rising and dressing and washing in the dormitory: a noise of clapping of hands as the prefect went up and down telling the fellows to look sharp. A pale sunlight showed the yellow curtains drawn back， the tossed beds. His bed was very hot and his face and body were very hot. He got up and sat on the side of his bed. He was weak. He tried to pull on his stocking. It had a horrid rough feel. The sunlight was queer and cold.
Fleming said:
--Are you not well？
He did not know; and Fleming said:
--Get back into bed. I'll tell McGlade you're not well.
--He's sick.
--Who is？ --Tell McGlade. ---Get back into bed. --Is he sick？ A fellow held his arms while he loosened the stocking clinging to his foot and climbed back into the hot bed. He crouched down between the sheets， glad of their tepid glow. He heard the fellows talk among themselves about him as they dressed for mass. It was a mean thing to do， to shoulder him into the square ditch，they were saying.
Then their voices ceased; they had gone. A voice at his bed said:
--Dedalus， don't spy on us， sure you won't？
Wells's face was there. He looked at it and saw that Wells was afraid.
--I didn't mean to. Sure you won't？
His father had told him， whatever he did， never to peach on a fellow.He shook his head and answered no and felt glad.
Wells said: --I didn't mean to， honour bright. It was only for cod. I'm sorry
The face and the voice went away. Sorry because he was afraid. Afraid that it was some disease. Canker was a disease of plants and cancer one of animals: or another different. That was a long time ago then out on the playgrounds in the evening light， creeping from point to point on the fringe of his line， a heavy bird flying low through the grey light. Leicester Abbey lit up. Wolsey died there. The abbots buried him themselves.
It was not Wells's face， it was the prefect's. He was not foxing. No， no:he was sick really He was not foxing. And he felt the prefect's hand on his forehead; and he felt his forehead warm and damp against the prefect's cold damp hand. That was the way a rat felt， slimy and damp and cold.Every rat had two eyes to look out of. Sleek slimy coats， little little feet tucked up to jump， black slimy eyes to look out of. They could understand how to jump. But the minds of rats could not understand trigonometry When they were dead they lay on their sides. Their coats dried then. They were only dead things.
The prefect was there again and it was his voice that was saying that he was to get up， that Father Minister had said he was to get up and dress and go to the infirmary And while he was dressing himself as quickly as he could the prefect said:
--We must pack off to Brother Michael because we have thecollywobbles！
He was very decent to say that. That was all to make him laugh. But hecould not laugh because his cheeks and lips were all shivery: and then theprefect had to laugh by himself.
The prefect cried:
--Quick march！ Hayfoot！ Strawfoot！
They went together down the staircase and along the corridor and past the bath. As he passed the door he remembered with a vague fear the warm turf-coloured bogwater， the warm moist air， the noise of plunges，the smell of the towels， like medicine.
P12-15

《一个青年艺术家的画像(英文版世界文学经典读本)》是乔伊斯靠前次运用意识流手法写就的长篇小说。它宣告了一个文学新时代的到来。读完《尤利西斯》，或许需要某种勇气，而读完《一个青年艺术家的画像》，你需要的仅仅是打开靠前页。因为正像所有浩瀚河流的源头，它清澈，纯净，宛如新生。

这是乔伊斯早年创作的一部自传体小说，描写主人公迪达罗斯由童年、少年乃至青年各阶段的成长：在校遭体罚，青春萌动时期的嫖妓，以及邂逅一名少女，互生情愫，表现了迪达罗斯知性和宗教－哲学观念的觉醒，起而反抗平庸、鄙陋的都柏林传统社会和宗教势力，摒弃为教会服务的人生道路，决心成为一名艺术家。在叙事技巧及语言风格方面，本书“在世界上产生巨大影响”，并成为乔伊斯后来的很好之作《尤利西斯》和《芬尼根的醒来》的先声。作品的另一特色，即常常省略掉句子的标点。此书1904年开始写作，1911年差点儿被作者付之一炬，还是乔伊斯的妹妹把手稿抢救出来，在美国诗人埃兹拉·庞德的鼓励下发表于《利己主义者》。1998年，美国现代图书馆评选“20世纪100很好英文小说”，本书以第三名入选。

定价：为出版社全国统一定价；

文轩价：为商品的销售价，是您最终决定是否购买商品的依据；受系统缓存影响，最终价格以商品放入购物车后显示的价格为准；

新广告法规定所有页面信息中不得出现绝对化用词和功能性用词。

本店非常支持新广告法，但为了不影响消费者正常购买，页面明显区域本店已在排查修改，对于不明显区域也将会逐步排查并修改，我们此郑重声明：本店所有页面上的绝对化用词与功能性用词在此声明全部失效，不作为赔付理由。涉及“教育部声明”中的商品，均不代表教育部指定、推荐的具体版本，仅代表该商品的内容为指定、推荐书目。因极限用词引起的任何形式的商品赔付，本店不接收且不妥协。希望消费者理解并欢迎联系客服帮助完善，也请职业打假人士高抬贵手。