老人与海(轻松英语名作欣赏-中学版)(5级下)(txt+pdf+epub+mobi电子书下载)

作者：海明威

出版社：外语教学与研究出版社

格式: AZW3, DOCX, EPUB, MOBI, PDF, TXT

老人与海(轻松英语名作欣赏-中学版)(5级下)试读：

致读者

童年时代动人的童话故事和经典名著永远是人无法抹去的温情回忆。现在，你可以尽情沉浸在英文经典殿堂中，欣赏英文作品的原汁原味。“轻松英语名作欣赏”专为需要提高英语阅读及听力水平的各类读者而设计，系列中收录的都是大家耳熟能详的故事，简单而亲切。通过阅读和收听这套有声读物，你的英语阅读水平和理解能力都会得到明显的提高。

本系列分为五个级别，词汇量逐级扩大，“如何使用本书”和“如何提高英语阅读水平”提供了概括性的指导。另外，本系列还针对不同的故事内容设计了“你读懂了多少”（Comprehension Quiz），帮助你检测阅读理解的效果。“阅读准备”（Before You Read）以图文并茂的形式让读者对生词形成一定的感性认识，并在文中给出更详尽的注释。书后附有译文，帮助你更好地理解故事。本系列还配有精美的插图和“背景知识”（Understanding the Story），让你的阅读更加多姿多彩。

各书的内容由英语国家的专业编辑人员在标准美国英语的基础上，根据不同级别读者的语言水平进行改编，也可应用于英语课堂教学。

现在，让我们开始“轻松英语名作欣赏”听读的快乐体验吧！

关于故事和说故事的人

欧内斯特·海明威是美国著名作家。他早在高中时期就开始在校报上发表短篇小说，表现出很高的创作天赋。高中毕业后，他决定不上大学，而是在当地报社找了一份记者的工作。1918年，海明威加入了红十字会并由此参加了第一次世界大战。他在意大利前线负伤，回到家中。接下来，他移居欧洲，结识了许多著名的作家并且继续写作。1923年，他的第一本书《三个短篇小说和十首诗》问世。1929年出版的《永别了，武器》则为他奠定在小说界的地位起到了至关重要的作用。1952年出版的《

老人与海

I have been a fisherman all my life. I am old now, but I am still strong and determined. I am a master fisherman. That means I have a lot of knowledge about how to catch a fish. However, I have not caught a fish for many weeks. I know that I will catch a fish soon. So I go out in my boat every day and put out my fishing lines.

我做了一辈子的渔夫。现在我老了，但是我仍然强壮而坚毅。我是一个很棒的渔夫，也就是说，我知道很多捕鱼的知识。可是，我已经有好几个星期没有捕到一条鱼了。我相信不久一定会捕到鱼的，所以我每天都驾船出海，放出鱼线。Boy　男孩

I live in Havana, near the beach with all the other fishermen. I learned how to fish when I was very young. The old man taught me everything I know about fishing. He is a great man, but my parents think he's unlucky. I believe he will catch a great fish again one day.

我和其他所有的渔夫一起住在哈瓦那靠近海滩的地方。我很小就学会了怎样捕鱼。我所有捕鱼的知识都是老人教的。他是一个非常好的人，但是我的父母认为他不走运。我相信他终有一天能再捕到大鱼。第1章最差的运气CHAPTER 1 The Worst Kind of Luck

He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days without catching a fish. During the first forty days without a fish the boy's parents had told him that the old man was now definitely salao- the worst form of unlucky. The boy's parents had ordered him to go in another boat, which caught three good fish the first week. It made the boy sad to see the old man come back each day with his skiff empty. He always went down to help him carry the lines, or the gaff and harpoon and the sail patched with flour sacks, so that when it was furled it looked like the flag of permanent defeat.

The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles on the back of his neck and deep scars on his hands from handling lines of heavy fish. The dark spots of the benign skin cancer that the tropical sun brings were on his cheeks. His scars were as old as forgotten memories.

Everything about him was old except his eyes. They were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated.

"Santiago," the boy said to him, "I could go with you again. We've made some money." The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him.

"No," the old man said. "You're with a lucky boat. Stay there."

"But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks."

"I remember," the old man said. "I know you did not leave me because you doubted."

"It was papa who made me leave. I am a boy and I must obey him."

"I know," the old man said.

"He hasn't much faith."

"No, but we have. Haven't we?"

"Yes. Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we'll take the stuff home."

"Why not?" the old man said. "Between fishermen."

They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man, but he was not angry. The older fishermen looked at him and were sad, but they did not show it. The successful fishermen of that day had already butchered their marlin and carried them to the ice truck that would take them to the market in Havana. Those who had caught sharks had taken them to the shark factory on the other side of the cove. When the wind came from the east a smell came from the shark factory.

"Santiago," the boy said.

"Yes," the old man said. He was thinking of many years ago.

"Can I go out and get sardines for you for tomorrow?"

"No. Go and play baseball. I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net."

"I would like to go. If I cannot fish with you, I would like to serve in some way."

"You bought me a beer," the old man said. "You are already a man."

"How old was I when you first took me in a boat?"

"Five and you were nearly killed when I brought the fish in too green and it nearly destroyed the boat. Can you remember?"

"I can remember the tail slapping and the noise of the clubbing."

"Can you really remember that?"

"I remember everything from when we went together."

The old man looked at him with his confident, loving eyes. "If you were my boy I'd take you out," he said. "But you are your father's and your mother's and you are in a lucky boat."

"May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too."

"I have mine left from today."

"Let me get four fresh ones."

"One," the old man said. His hope and his confidence had never left him.

"Two," the boy said.

"Two," the old man agreed. "You didn't steal them?"

"I would," the boy said. "But I bought these."

"Thank you," the old man said. "Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current." He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility. But he knew it carried no loss of pride.

"Where are you going?" the boy asked.

"Far out. I want to be out before it is light."

"Are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?"

"I think so. And there are many tricks."

"Let us take the stuff home," the boy said, "so I can get the cast net and go after the sardines."

They picked up the things from the boat. The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden box with the fishing gear.

They walked to the old man's shack and went in through its open door. The shack was made of the tough part of the royal palm called guano.

In the shack there was a bed, a table, one chair and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal. On the brown walls there was a color picture of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre, both relics of his wife. Once there had been a photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it had made him lonely. Now it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt.

"What do you have to eat?" the boy asked.

"A pot of yellow rice with fish. Do you want some?"

"No. I will eat at home. Do you want me to make a fire?"

"No. I will make it later on."

"May I take the cast net?"

"Of course."

There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it. But they went through this fiction every day. There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too.

"Eighty-five is a lucky number," the old man said. "How would you like to see me bring one in that weighed over a thousand pounds?"

"I'll get the cast net and go for sardines. Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?"

"Yes. I have yesterday's paper and I will read about baseball."

The boy did not know whether yesterday's paper was fiction too. But the old man brought it out from under the bed.

"Perico gave it to me at the bodega," he explained.

"I'll be back when I have the sardines. I'll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning. When I come back you can tell me about baseball. Now keep warm, old man. Remember we are in September," the boy said.

"The month when the great fish come," the old man said. "Anyone can be a fisherman in May."

"I'm going for the sardines now," the boy said.

When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down. The boy took the old army blanket off the bed and spread it over the back of the chair and over the old man's strange but powerful shoulders. His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like a sail. The old man's head was very old and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face. He was barefoot.

The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep.

"Wake up, old man," the boy said.

The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away. Then he smiled.

"What have you got?" he asked.

"Supper," said the boy. "We're going to have supper."

"I'm not very hungry."

"Come on and eat. You can't fish and not eat."

"What are we eating?"

"Black beans and rice, fried bananas and some stew."

The boy had brought them in a metal container from the Terrace.

"That's very kind of you," the old man said. "Should we eat?"

"I've been asking you to," the boy told him gently. "I didn't want to open the container until you were ready."

"I'm ready now," the old man said. "I only needed time to wash."

Where did he wash? the boy thought. The village water supply was two streets down the road. I must have water here for him, and soap and a towel. Why am I so thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket.

"Your stew is excellent," the old man said.

"Tell me about baseball," the boy asked him.

"In the American League it is the Yankees as I said," the old man said happily.

"They lost today," the boy told him.

"That means nothing. The great DiMaggio is himself again."

"They have other men on the team."

"Naturally. But he makes the difference," the old man said. "Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace? I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him. Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid. I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing. They say his father was a fisherman. Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand."

"I used to sail on a big ship that went to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening."

"I know. You told me."

"Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?"

"Baseball. Tell me about the great John Jota McGraw," the boy said.

"He used to come to the Terrace sometimes in the older days. But he was rough and harsh-spoken when he drank too much."

"Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?"

"I think they are equal."

"And the best fisherman is you."

"No. I know others that are better."

"Qué va," the boy said, "There are many good fishermen and some great ones, but there is only you."

"Thank you. You make me happy. I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong."

"There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say."

"I may not be as strong as I think," the old man said. "But I know many tricks and I have resolution."

"You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning."

"Good night then. I will wake you in the morning."

"You're my alarm clock," the boy said.

"Age is my alarm clock," the old man said. "Why do old men wake so early? Is it to have longer days?"

"I don't know," the boy said. "All I know is that young boys sleep late and hard. Sleep well, old man."

They had eaten with no light on the table. The old man rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them. He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed.KEY WORDS

skiff n. 小船

the Gulf Stream 墨西哥湾流

definitely adv. 绝对地

gaff n. 鱼钩

harpoon n. 鱼叉

sail n. 船帆

patch v. 打补丁

flour sack 面粉袋子

furl v. 收拢

permanent adj. 永久的

defeat n. 失败

gaunt adj. 憔悴的

wrinkle n. 皱纹

spot n. 斑点

benign adj. 良性的

cancer n. 癌症

tropical adj. 热带的

make money 赚钱

doubt v. 怀疑，不信任

obey v. 服从

faith n. 信念

offer v. 提供

stuff n. 东西

make fun of 取笑

butcher v. 屠宰

marlin n. 枪鱼，马林鱼

Havana n. 哈瓦那（古巴首都）

shark n. 鲨鱼

cove n. 小海湾

sardine n. 沙丁鱼

row v. 划船

throw a net 撒渔网

serve v. 干活，帮忙

green adj. 精力充沛的

destroy v. 毁掉，完全破坏

slap v. 拍打

club v. （用棍棒）击打

confident adj. 有信心的

bait n. 鱼饵

current n. 水流，海流

attain v. 获得，达到

humility n. 谦卑

trick n. 技巧，诀窍

cast net （撒放的）渔网

mast n. 桅杆

fishing gear 打鱼用具

shack n. 窝棚，简陋的小棚子

royal palm 王棕（一种特大棕榈树）

guano n. 海鸟粪

dirt n. 泥土

charcoal n. 木炭

relic n. 遗物

make a fire 生火

go through 进行

fiction n. 虚构的事

weigh v. 称重

bodega n. 酒馆，杂货铺

share v. 分配

keep warm 保暖

be asleep 睡着了

spread v. 铺开

(spread-spread-spread)

barefoot adj. 光脚的

wake up 醒来

for a moment 一会儿，片刻

bean n. 豆子

metal container 金属容器

be ready 准备好

water supply 水源，供水

thoughtless adj. 考虑不周全的

league n. 联盟

lose v. 失败，输

(lose-lost-lost)

be oneself （人）处于正常状态

make the difference 造成变化

used to 过去常常

timid adj. 羞涩的，胆怯的

as poor as 像……一样穷

in the older days 在过去的日子里

harsh-spoken adj. 说脏话的，出口伤人的

drink v. 喝酒

(drink-drank-drunk)

manager n. 经理

equal adj. 相当的，同等的

Qué va 〈西〉哪里哪里，你说什么呀，表示惊讶、不赞同

come along 出现

prove v. 证明

resolution n. 决心

ought to 应该

fresh adj. 精神饱满的

alarm clock 闹钟

roll up 卷起

trousers n. (pl.) 长裤

pillow n. 枕头

cover v. 覆盖

spring n. 弹簧Understanding the Story背景知识Hemingway andThe Old Man and the Sea海明威和《老人与海》

When Hemingway wrote The Old Man and the Sea, he was an old man himself. His previous novel was not a good book. But The Old Man and the Sea was instantly a huge success. The simple, clear language Hemingway used to describe an old man's determination to succeed one more time appealed to many readers all over the world. Some people think that Hemingway was writing about himself, as a writer who wanted one more big success.

Many other people believe Hemingway based the character on Gregorio Fuentes, a Cuban who worked for the author. Fuentes was the captain of Hemingway's fishing boat, the Pilar, when Hemingway lived in Cuba.

However, Fuentes once told a reporter a different story. One day he and Hemingway were sailing on the Pilar when they saw an old fisherman. This man was in a small boat and had a large fish tied to the side. Hemingway told Fuentes he wanted to write about the fisherman.

Perhaps Hemingway combined parts of himself, his friends and people he saw to create the main character. After all, that could be why the story appeals to so many readers: the old man represents all men who struggle, determined to win just one more time.

当海明威写作《老人与海》时，他自己也是一位老人了。他之前的那本小说并不出色，但是《老人与海》一出版就立刻获得了巨大的成功。海明威用简单易懂的语言描写了一位老人想要再次成功的决心，这打动了全世界的众多读者。有些人认为海明威描写的正是他自己，一位想要再次取得伟大成功的作家。

还有许多人相信海明威笔下角色的原型来自格雷戈里奥·富恩特斯，一个为这位作家工作的古巴人。海明威住在古巴时，富恩特斯是海明威的渔船“皮拉号”的船长。

但是，富恩特斯则对记者说了一个不同的故事。一天他和海明威乘坐“皮拉号”航行时，看见一个老渔夫在一艘小船上，船侧绑着一条大鱼。海明威告诉富恩特斯他想写关于这名渔夫的故事。

也许海明威是结合了自己、他的朋友和他所见到的人这三个部分而创造出了本书的主人公。归根到底，这可能正是故事吸引了如此多读者的原因：老人代表了进行斗争并决心再一次取得胜利的所有人。第2章出海远行CHAPTER 2 Far Out to Sea

The old man dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long, golden beaches. He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats come riding through it. As he slept he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought in the morning.

He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great events, nor of great fish, nor of fights, nor of contests of strength, nor of his wife. Now he only dreamed of places and of the lions on the beach. They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy. He never dreamed about the boy.

He woke up, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on. He went up the road to wake the boy. The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and the old man opened it and walked in quietly. He took hold of the boy's foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him. The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on.

The old man went out the door and the boy came after him. He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, "I am sorry."

"Qué va," the boy said. "It is what a man must do."

They walked down the road to the old man's shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats.

When they reached the old man's shack the boy took the rolls of line in the basket, the harpoon and gaff, and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder.

"Do you want coffee?" the boy asked.

"We'll put the gear in the boat and then get some." They had coffee from condensed-milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen.

"How did you sleep, old man?" the boy asked. He was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep.

"Very well, Manolin," the old man said. "I feel confident today."

"So do I," the boy said. "Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits."

"I'll be right back," the boy said. "Have another coffee. We have credit here."

The old man drank his coffee slowly. It was all he would have all day and he knew that he should drink it. For a long time now eating had bored him and he never carried a lunch. He had a bottle of water in the bow of the skiff and that was all he needed for the day.

The boy was back now with the sardines and the two baits, and they went down to the skiff, feeling the pebbled sand under their feet. They lifted the skiff and slid her into the water.

"Good luck, old man."

"Good luck," the old man said.

He fitted the rope lashings of the oars onto the thole pins and, leaning forward, he began to row out of the harbor in the dark. There were other boats going out to sea and the old man heard the dip and push of their oars even though he could not see them.

The old man knew he was going far out and he left the smell of the land behind and rowed out into the clean early morning smell of the ocean.

In the dark the old man could feel the morning coming and as he rowed he heard the sound of flying fish leaving the water. He was very fond of flying fish as they were his principal friends on the ocean. He was sorry for the birds, especially the small delicate dark terns that were always flying and looking and almost never finding. And he thought, the birds have a harder life than we do except for the robber birds and the heavy strong ones. Why did they make birds so delicate and fine as those sea swallows when the ocean can be so cruel? She is kind and very beautiful. But she can be so cruel.

He always thought of the sea as la mar which is what people call her in Spanish when they love her. Sometimes those who love her say bad things about her but they always speak of the sea as though she were a woman. Some of the younger fishermen, who had motorboats, speak of her as el mar which is masculine. They speak of her as a contestant or a place or even as an enemy. But the old man always thought of her as feminine and as something that gave or withheld great favors, and if she did wild or wicked things it was because she could not help them. The moon affects her as it does a woman, he thought.

He was rowing steadily and it was no effort for him.

"Today I'll row out where the schools of albacore are and maybe there will be a big one with them."

Before it was really light he had his four baits out at different depths and he was drifting with the current. There was no part of the hook that a great fish could feel which was not sweet-smelling and good-tasting.

The boy had given him two small fresh tunas which hung on the two deepest lines and, on the others, he had a big blue runner and a yellow jack. Each line was as thick as a big pencil and was looped onto a stick so that any pull or touch on the bait would make the stick dip.

Now the old man rowed gently to keep the lines straight and at their proper depths. The sun rose thinly from the sea and the old man could see the other boats, low on the water and well in toward the shore. He looked down into the water and watched the lines that went straight down into the dark water. He kept them straighter than any other fisherman.

I keep them with precision, he thought. Only I have no luck anymore. But who knows? Maybe today. Every day is a new day. It is better to be lucky. But I would rather be exact. Then when luck comes you are ready.

Just then he saw a man-of-war bird with his long black wings circling in the sky ahead of him. He made a quick drop and then circled again.

"He's got something," the old man said aloud. "He's not just looking."

"Dolphin," the old man said aloud. "Big dolphin."

As the old man watched, a small tuna rose in the air, turned and dropped into the water. Another and another rose and they were leaping in long jumps after the bait. After a while the stern line became taut under his foot.

He dropped his oars and felt the weight of the small tuna's shivering pull. He could see the fish in the water as he pulled it in. The old man hit him on the head for kindness and kicked him under the stern.

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