The Story of an Hour

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发表于 2018-6-13 11:07:47 | 显示全部楼层 |阅读模式
资源所属专业类别:英语
资源名称:TheStory of an Hour
资源说明:本文来源于 Short Fiction
资源关键字:free   love
资源作者:Kate Chopin
资源类型:文本类素材
资源语言:英文
Knowingthat Mrs. Mallard was afflicted with a heart trouble, great care was taken tobreak to her as gently as possible the news of her husband's death.
It was her sister Josephine whotold 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 beenin the newspaper office when intelligence of the railroad disaster wasreceived, 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 bearingthe sad message.
She did not hear the story as manywomen have heard the same, with a paralyzed inability to accept itssignificance. She wept at once, with sudden, wild abandonment, in her sister'sarms. 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 openwindow, a comfortable, roomy armchair. Into this she sank, pressed down by aphysical exhaustion that haunted her body and seemed to reach into her soul.
She could see in the open squarebefore her house the tops of trees that were all aquiver with the new springlife. The delicious breath of rain was in the air. In the street below apeddler was crying his wares. The notes of a distant song which some one was singingreached her faintly, and countless sparrows were twittering in the eaves.
There were patches of blue skyshowing here and there through the clouds that had met and piled one above theother in the west facing her window.
She sat with her head thrown backupon the cushion of the chair, quite motionless, except when a sob came up intoher throat and shook her, as a child who has cried itself to sleep continues tosob in its dreams.
She was young, with a fair, calmface, whose lines bespoke repression and even a certain strength. But now therewas a dull stare in her eyes, whose gaze was fixed away off yonder on one ofthose patches of blue sky. It was not a glance of reflection, but ratherindicated a suspension of intelligent thought.
There was something coming to herand she was waiting for it, fearfully. What was it? She did not know; it wastoo 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 theair.
Now her bosom rose and felltumultuously. She was beginning to recognize this thing that was approaching topossess her, and she was striving to beat it back with her will--as powerlessas her two white slender hands would have been.
When she abandoned herself alittle whispered word escaped her slightly parted lips. She said it over andover under her breath: "free, free, free!" The vacant stare and thelook of terror that had followed it went from her eyes. They stayed keen andbright. Her pulses beat fast, and the coursing blood warmed and relaxed everyinch of her body.
She did not stop to ask if it wereor were not a monstrous joy that held her. A clear and exalted perceptionenabled her to dismiss the suggestion as trivial.
She knew that she would weep againwhen she saw the kind, tender hands folded in death; the face that had neverlooked save with love upon her, fixed and gray and dead. But she saw beyondthat bitter moment a long procession of years to come that would belong to herabsolutely. And she opened and spread her arms out to them in welcome.
There would be no one to live forduring those coming years; she would live for herself. There would be nopowerful will bending hers in that blind persistence with which men and womenbelieve they have a right to impose a private will upon a fellow-creature. Akind intention or a cruel intention made the act seem no less a crime as shelooked upon it in that brief moment of illumination.
And yet she had lovedhim--sometimes. Often she had not. What did it matter! What could love, theunsolved mystery, count for in face of this possession of self-assertion whichshe suddenly recognized as the strongest impulse of her being!
"Free! Body and soulfree!" she kept whispering.
Josephine was kneeling before theclosed door with her lips to the keyhole, imploring for admission."Louise, open the door! I beg, 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 makingmyself ill." No; she was drinking in a very elixir of life through thatopen window.
Her fancy was running riot alongthose days ahead of her. Spring days, and summer days, and all sorts of daysthat would be her own. She breathed a quick prayer that life might be long. Itwas only yesterday she had thought with a shudder that life might be long.
She arose at length and opened thedoor 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 hersister's waist, and together they descended the stairs. Richards stood waitingfor them at the bottom.
Some one was opening the frontdoor with a latchkey. It was Brently Mallard who entered, a littletravel-stained, composedly carrying his grip-sack and umbrella. He had been farfrom the scene of accident, and did not even know there had been one. He stoodamazed at Josephine's piercing cry; at Richards' quick motion to screen himfrom the view of his wife.
But Richards was too late.
When the doctors came they saidshe had died of heart disease-- of joy that kills.
资源评价:这是一片非常有名的短篇小说。它讲诉了一个很不寻常的故事,这个故事就发生在一个小时之内:患有心脏病的Mrs.Mallard 从妹妹口中得知丈夫在事故中丧生,像平常妻子一样,听到这个噩耗之后,她悲痛万分。她把自己锁在房间里,回想她和丈夫之间的感情,她发现自己的婚姻并不幸福,她想到自由,于是这个时候她已经不再悲痛,而是转而高兴。因为丈夫的去世,她获得了自由。结局更是出人意料,她的丈夫不但没有去世,而且还活生生地站在她面前,而Mrs.Mallard 却因为受不了这个打击而心脏病发去世。因为她渴望的自由从他丈夫出现在她面前那一刻起,就没有办法得到了。这篇小说构思非常独特,作者把文中女主人公心理过程的变化以及内心的挣扎描写得十分具体。作者没有用多少文字描写女主人公如何不幸,如何地不自由,但是一系列详细的心理过程的刻画,已经足以让读者对女主人公产生同情。天才作者安排了一个出人意料的结局,这既是结局,也是全文的最高潮,说明文章的主旨,“在男人占主导的社会,无论女人多么努力也很难获得真正的自由。”

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