约翰-克里斯朵夫第一卷(txt+pdf+epub+mobi电子书下载)

作者：罗曼.罗兰

出版社：辽宁人民出版社

格式: AZW3, DOCX, EPUB, MOBI, PDF, TXT

约翰-克里斯朵夫第一卷试读：

More classics to be soon published are:

Dracula by Bram Stoker

Dubliners by James Joyce

Gulliver's Travels into Several Remote Nations of the World by Jonathan Swift

Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson

Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad

The Strange Case of Dr.Jekyll and Mr.Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson

The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling

The Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain

The Vision of Hell by Dante Alighieri

The King James Version of the Bible

Essays of Michel de Montaigne Complete by Michel de Montaigne

The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Democracy and Education:An Introduction to the Philosophy of Education by Dewey

The Secret Adversary by Agatha Christie

Paradise Lost by John Milton

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The Story of Mankind by Hendrik van Loon ￥30.00

The Time Machine by H.G.Wells ￥13.00

The Essays on the Wisdom of Life

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Pascal’s Pensées by Blaise Pascal ￥23.00

The Pilgrim’s Progress by John Bunyan ￥14.00

Totem and Taboo by Sigmund Freud ￥11.00

The Story of My Life by Helen Keller ￥22.00

Jean-Christophe by Romain Rolland （Volume I） ￥33.00

War and Peace （I+

II

For the online order,please use the 2-dimentional bar code on the back cover.If you have any suggestions,please go to the publisher’s weibo:http:// weibo.com/lrs 2009.Or visit the publisher’s web-side.Or call 024-23284321.Is This Book for You?用文字谱写的一部英雄交响乐——“最经典英语文库”第四辑之《约翰·克里斯朵夫》导读马爽

十年磨一剑，一朝试锋芒。

十年著一书，一书盛百年。

法国著名评判现实主义作家、音乐史学家罗曼·罗兰的长河式小说《约翰·克里斯朵夫》就是这样一部思路横亘20年、撰写耗费10年的鸿篇巨制。这部20世纪最伟大的小说之一，不但让罗兰实现了心中的夙愿——创造一种用文字谱写乐章的新型艺术，并且帮助他荣获了1913年度法兰西学院文学奖和1915年诺贝尔文学奖。

罗曼·罗兰（1866-1944）在50岁之前一直默默无闻、两袖清风、深居简出，他虽然有思想、有才华、有追求，虽然写过戏剧、著过传记、办过杂志，但始终未引起重视，更不用说产生轰动。罗兰生活的年代，欧洲社会矛盾日益激化，政治局势动荡不安，而他的内心却一直努力保持着自己的远大理想和自由意志不受外界羁绊。然而时运不济——他与友人一起共谋的事业未能成功，普遍的人性弱点还给他们的友情蒙上了阴影；他雄伟的“人民戏剧”计划毁于妒忌；他为工人编写的话剧仅仅上演了一个夜场，他的婚姻生活又以突发形式匆匆收尾……事业的不顺利、生活的不如意等一连串重大打击令他窒息。但是罗兰的过人之处，便是他的理想和精神所显示出的强大抗击打特性。在绝望的时刻，他想起了他崇拜敬仰的伟人，如贝多芬、瓦格纳等，他用他们的奋斗经历来调整自己的心态，想着他们在遇到逆境和困难的时候是如何以行动战胜痛苦、以艺术战胜生活的。于是，已过不惑之年的罗兰做出了人生中的最重大决定——遁世隐居、埋头创作。为了写出自己多年梦想的《约翰·克里斯朵夫》，他毅然放弃了高等师范学校音乐史教授的职位，从世界隐退，而这一隐就是十年！

十年中，他虽处于巴黎市中心，但是一直呆在租住的一幢公寓顶楼的两个破旧不堪的小房间里，没有邻居，没有服务员，只有堆得满满的书籍、几张朋友的照片和一尊贝多芬的半身像。除此之外，就是他的书桌和椅子。那十年，他等于把自己囚禁在这里，闭门隐居、与世隔绝——巴黎的喧嚣诱惑不了他，人心的浮躁打扰不到他。他每天要么埋头苦读、凝神思考，要么伏案创作、奋笔疾书。长时间的辛苦写作，加之睡眠不足、营养不良，他的脸色蜡黄、眼睑充血，额头很快爬满皱纹，头发也已变得花白……但是这些对他来说都无所谓，他看不见，也不去想，他脑子里装的尽是各种故事情节，各种人物关系，以及各种喜怒哀乐。可神奇的是，这么多年下来，虽然身体的很多部位都在退化、衰老，但他的心始终年轻、澎湃，充满了活力与激情；眼神一直炯炯有神，而且越来越光芒四射。所以，在创作接近尾声的时候，他整个人虽显得疲惫、衰弱，但精神仍旧强大、高亢。他瘦弱的身躯放射出神奇的力量，布满细碎褶皱的脸也显得魅力无限。《约翰·克里斯朵夫》一经问世，立即受到热捧，很快被翻译成十几种文字出版。1912年，罗兰在世界上、甚至在法国本土还是个无名小卒，到1914年就已经誉满全球了。罗兰就这样从黑暗走向光明，从默默无闻变得名声大噪，而且一发不可收拾。这部小说替他报了“充满虚荣心的市场”之仇，也完成了由于“人民戏剧”计划搁浅而变得渺茫的醒世愿望。

那么《约翰·克里斯朵夫》到底是怎样一部书呢？

这是一部以贝多芬为原型创作的小说。罗兰从1890年开始酝酿、构思，到1912年完成最后一卷，前后共花二十余年的时间。小说描写的是有德国血统的天才音乐家约翰·克里斯朵夫充满坎坷却不停奋斗的一生，塑造了一个充满不屈精神的人物形象。这是一个属于世界的英雄，而非某个民族的英雄——克里斯朵夫不断反抗腐朽没落的艺术和庸俗的社会环境，碰壁后能越挫越勇，并不断超越自我，追求更高的灵魂境界。这是贝多芬的精神，也是罗兰自己的精神。

小说中，作者把各种现象都以河喻之，使种种事件、人物、情节得以圆润地交织、流淌，彼此的关联、渗透也自然而然。此外，《约翰·克里斯朵夫》是部音乐小说，其各卷恰如交响乐的几个乐章——序曲（呈现部）、发展（展开部）、高潮（行板或慢板）和结尾（快板与急板，终曲），反映了克里斯朵夫的童真、反抗、悲情和复兴的人生历程，整部作品气势恢弘，奏成了一曲波澜壮阔的英雄交响乐。

小说中的三个人物——克里斯朵夫、奥里维和葛拉齐亚分别来自欧洲三国。德国的放荡不羁、法国的清新舒展、意大利的柔美可人，在罗兰的笔下被完美地糅合在一起。这欧洲“三重奏”从来没有被如此高雅、美妙并且具有象征意义地演绎出来过。而能够用文字谱写一部壮美的交响乐，供人用眼睛来观看并同时在脑中奏响、给人以灵魂享受的，就是天才作家了。在世界文学史上，只有罗兰能够做到将音乐与文学结合起来，因为他本人具有极深的音乐修养。他是钢琴家、音乐评论家和音乐史教授，同时又是文学家兼剧作家，加上他高尚的道德情操和追求纯洁艺术的心灵，所以，只有他才能书写出如此优秀的文艺作品——将主人公心路历程中的每段喜怒哀乐，人生经历中的每次悲欢离合、恩仇祸福、成败得失，都谱写成乐曲，轻重缓急、抑扬顿挫、起伏跌宕，形成扣人心弦的美妙音乐。正是这种创造手法使《约翰·克里斯朵夫》异军突起，成为文学史上的一部常青作品。Romain Rolland

Romain Rolland （29 January 1866-30 December 1944）was a French dramatist,novelist,essayist,art historian and mystic who was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1915 “as a tribute to the lofty idealism of his literary production and to the sympathy and love of truth with which he has described different types of human beings”.

Jean-Christophe （1904-1912）is the novel in ten volumes by for which Romain Rolland received the Prix Femina in 1905 the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1915.

The first four volumes are sometimes grouped as Jean-Christophe,the next three as Jean-Christophe à Paris,and the last three as La fin du voyage （Journey’s End）.

1.L’Aube （Dawn,1904）

2.Le Matin （Morning,1904）

3.L’Adolescent （Youth,1904）

4.La Révolte （Revolt,1905）

5.La Foire sur la place （The Marketplace,1908）

6.Antoinette （1908）

7.Dans la maison （The House,1908）

8.Les Amies （Love and Friendship,1910）

9.Le Buisson ardent （The Burning Bush,1911）

10.La Nouvelle Journée （The New Dawn,1912）

The English translations appeared between 1911 and 1913.

General Preface

Millions of Chinese are learning English to acquire knowledge and skills for communication in a world where English has become the primary language for international discourse.Yet not many learners have come to realize that the command of the English language also enables them to have an easy access to the world literary classics such as Shakespeare’s plays,Shelley’s poems,mark Twain’s novels and Nietzsche’s works which are an important part of liberal-arts education.The most important goals of universities are not vocational,that is,not merely the giving of knowledge and the training of skills.

In a broad sense,education aims at broadening young people’s mental horizon,cultivating virtues and shaping their character.Lincoln,Mao Zedong and many other great leaders and personages of distinction declared how they drew immense inspiration and strength from literary works.As a matter of fact,many of them had aspired to become writers in their young age.Alexander the Great （356-323 B.C.）is said to take along with him two things,waking or sleeping:a book and a dagger,and the book is Iliad,a literary classic,by Homer.He would put these two much treasured things under his pillow when he went to bed.

Today,we face an unprecedented complex and changing world.To cope with this rapid changing world requires not only communication skills,but also adequate knowledge of cultures other than our own home culture.Among the most important developments in present-day global culture is the ever increasing cultural exchanges and understanding between different nations and peoples.And one of the best ways to know foreign cultures is to read their literary works,particularly their literary classics,the soul of a country’s culture.They also give you the best language and the feeling of sublimity.

Liaoning People’s Publishing House is to be congratulated for its foresight and courage in making a new series of world literary classics available to the reading public.It is hoped that people with an adequate command of the English language will read them,like them and keep them as their lifetime companions.

I am convinced that the series will make an important contribution to the literary education of the young people in china.At a time when the whole country is emphasizing “spiritual civilization”,it is certainly a very timely venture to put out the series of literary classics for literary and cultural education.Zhang ZhongzaiProfessorBeijing Foreign Studies UniversityJuly,2013 Beijing

总序

经典名著的语言无疑是最凝练、最优美、最有审美价值的。雪莱的那句“如冬已来临，春天还会远吗？”让多少陷于绝望的人重新燃起希望之火，鼓起勇气，迎接严冬过后的春天。徐志摩一句“悄悄的我走了，正如我悄悄的来；我挥一挥衣袖，不带走一片云彩”又让多少人陶醉。尼采的那句“上帝死了”，又给多少人以振聋发聩的启迪作用。

读经典名著，尤其阅读原汁原味作品，可以怡情养性，增长知识，加添才干，丰富情感，开阔视野。所谓“经典”，其实就是作者所属的那个民族的文化积淀，是那个民族的灵魂缩影。英国戏剧泰斗莎士比亚的《哈姆雷特》和《麦克白》等、“意大利语言之父”的但丁的《神曲》之《地狱篇》《炼狱篇》及《天堂篇》、爱尔兰世界一流作家詹姆斯·乔伊斯的《尤利西斯》及《一个艺术家的肖像》等、美国风趣而笔法超一流的著名小说家马克·吐温的《哈克历险记》以及《汤姆索亚历险记》等，德国著名哲学家尼采的《查拉图斯特拉如是说》及《快乐的科学》等等，都为塑造自己民族的文化积淀，做出了永恒的贡献，也同时向世界展示了他们所属的民族的优美剪影。

很多著名领袖如林肯、毛泽东等伟大人物，也都曾从经典名著中汲取力量，甚至获得治国理念。耶鲁大学教授查尔斯·希尔曾在题为《经典与治国理念》的文章，阐述了读书与治国之间的绝妙关系。他这样写道：“在几乎所有经典名著中，都可以找到让人叹为观止、深藏其中的治国艺术原则。”

经典名著，不仅仅有治国理念，更具提升读者审美情趣的功能。世界上不同时代、不同地域的优秀经典作品，都存在一个共同属性：歌颂赞美人间的真善美，揭露抨击世间的假恶丑。

读欧美自但丁以来的经典名著，你会看到，西方无论是在漫长的黑暗时期，抑或进入现代进程时期，总有经典作品问世，对世间的负面，进行冷峻的批判。与此同时，也有更多的大家作品问世，热情讴歌人间的真诚与善良，使读者不由自主地沉浸于经典作品的审美情感之中。

英语经典名著，显然是除了汉语经典名著以外，人类整个进程中至关重要的文化遗产的一部分。从历史上看，英语是全世界经典阅读作品中，使用得最广泛的国际性语言。这一事实，没有产生根本性变化。本世纪相当长一段时间，这一事实也似乎不会发生任何变化。而要更深入地了解并切身感受英语经典名著的风采，阅读原汁原味的英语经典作品的过程，显然是必不可少的。

辽宁人民出版社及时并隆重推出“最经典英语文库”系列丛书，是具有远见与卓识的出版行为。我相信，这套既可供阅读，同时也具收藏价值的英语原版经典作品系列丛书，在帮助人们了解什么才是经典作品的同时，也一定会成为广大英语爱好者、大中学生以及学生家长们挚爱的“最经典英语文库”。北京外国语大学英语学院北外公共外交研究中心欧美文学研究中心主任全国英国文学学会名誉会长张中载 教授2013年7月于北京

THE DAWN

I

From behind the house rises the murmuring of the river.All day long the rain has been beating against the window-panes;a stream of water trickles down the window at the corner where it is broken.The yellowish light of the day dies down.The room is dim and dull.

The new-born child stirs in his cradle.Although the old man left his sabots at the door when he entered,his footsteps make the floor creak.The child begins to whine.The mother leans out of her bed to comfort it;and the grandfather gropes to light the lamp,so that the child shall not be frightened by the night when he awakes.The flame of the lamp lights up old Jean Michel's red face,with its rough white beard and morose expression and quick eyes.He goes near the cradle.His cloak smells wet,and as he walks he drags his large blue list slippers,Louisa signs to him not to go too near.She is fair,almost white;her features are drawn;her gentle,stupid face is marked with red in patches;her lips are pale and' swollen,and they are parted in a timid smile;her eyes devour the child—and her eyes are blue and vague;the pupils are small,but there is an infinite tenderness in them.

The child wakes and cries,and his eyes are troubled.Oh!how terrible!The darkness,the sudden flash of the lamp,the hallucinations of a mind as yet hardly detached from chaos,the stifling,roaring night in which it is enveloped,the illimitable gloom from which,like blinding shafts of light,there emerge acute sensations,sorrows,phantoms—those enormous faces leaning over him,those eyes that pierce through him,penetrating,are beyond his comprehension!…He has not the strength to cry out;terror holds him motionless,with eyes and mouth wide open and he rattles in his throat.His large head,that seems to have swollen up,is wrinkled with the grotesque and lamentable grimaces that he makes;the skin of his face and hands is brown and purple,and spotted with yellow…

"Dear God!"said the old man with conviction:"How ugly he is!"

He put the lamp down on the table.

Louisa pouted like a scolded child.Jean Michel looked at her out of the corner of his eye and laughed."You don't want me to say that he is beautiful?You would not believe it.Come,it is not your fault.They are all like that."

The child came out of the stupor and immobility into which he had been thrown by the light of the lamp and the eyes of the old man.He began to cry.Perhaps he instinctively felt in his mother's eyes a caress which made it possible for him to complain.She held out her arms for him and said：

"Give him to me."

The old man began,as usual,to air his theories：

"You ought not to give way to children when they cry.You must just let them cry."

But he came and took the child and grumbled：

"I never saw one quite so ugly."

Louisa took the child feverishly and pressed it to her bosom.She looked at it with a bashful and delighted smile.

"Oh,my poor child!"she said shamefacedly."How ugly you are—how ugly!And how I love you!"

Jean Michel went back to the fireside.He began to poke the fire in protest,but a smile gave the lie to the moroseness and solemnity of his expression.

"Good girl!"he said."Don't worry about it.He has plenty of time to alter.And even so,what does it matter?Only one thing is asked of him:that he should grow into an honest man."

The child was comforted by contact with his mother's warm body.He could be heard sucking her milk and gurgling and snorting.Jean Michel turned in his chair,and said once more,with some emphasis：

"There's nothing finer than an honest man."

He was silent for a moment,pondering whether it would not be proper to elaborate this thought;but he found nothing more to say,and after a silence he said irritably：

"Why isn't your husband here?"

"I think he is at the theater,"said Louisa timidly."There is a rehearsal."

"The theater is closed.I passed it just now.One of his lies."

"No.Don't be always blaming him.I must have misunderstood.He must have been kept for one of his lessons."

"He ought to have come back,"said the old man,not satisfied.He stopped for a moment,and then asked,in a rather lower voice and with some shame：

"Has he been … again?"

"No,father—no,father,"said Louisa hurriedly.

The old man looked at her;she avoided his eyes.

"It's not true.You're lying."

She wept in silence.

"Dear God!"said the old man,kicking at the fire with his foot.The poker fell with a clatter.The mother and the child trembled.

"Father,please—please!"said Louisa."You will make him cry."

The child hesitated for a second or two whether to cry or to go on with his meal;but not being able to do both at once,he went on with the meal.

Jean Michel continued in a lower tone,though with outbursts of anger：

"What have I done to the good God to have this drunkard for my son?What is the use of my having lived as I have lived,and of having denied myself everything all my life!But you—you—can't you do anything to stop it?Heavens!That's what you ought to do…You should keep him at home!…"

Louisa wept still more.

"Don't scold me!… I am unhappy enough as it is!I have done everything I could.If you knew how terrified I am when I am alone!Always I seem to hear his step on the stairs.Then I wait for the door to open,or I ask myself:'O God!What will he look like?' … It makes me ill to think of it!"

She was shaken by her sobs.The old man grew anxious.He went to her and laid the disheveled bedclothes about her trembling shoulders and caressed her head with his hands.

"Come,come,don't be afraid.I am here."

She calmed herself for the child's sake,and tried to smile.

"I was wrong to tell you that."

The old man shook his head as he looked at her.

"My poor child,it was not much of a present that I gave you."

"It's my own fault,"she said."He ought not to have married me.He is sorry for what he did."

"What,do you mean that he regrets?…"

"You know.You were angry yourself because I became his wife."

"We won't talk about that.It is true I was vexed.A young man like that—I can say so without hurting you—a young man whom I had carefully brought up,a distinguished musician,a real artist—might have looked higher than you,who had nothing and were of a lower class,and not even of the same trade.For more than a hundred years no Krafft has ever married a woman who was not a musician!But,you know,I bear you no grudge,and am fond of you,and have been ever since I learned to know you.Besides,there's no going back on a choice once it's made;there's nothing left but to do one's duty honestly."

He went and sat down again,thought for a little,and then said,with the solemnity in which he invested all his aphorisms：

"The first thing in life is to do one's duty."

He waited for contradiction,and spat on the fire.Then,as neither mother nor child raised any objection,he was for going on,but relapsed into silence.

They said no more.Both Jean Michel,sitting by the fireside,and Louisa,in her bed,dreamed sadly.The old man,in spite of what he had said,had bitter thoughts about his son's marriage,and Louisa was thinking of it also,and blaming herself,although she had nothing wherewith to reproach herself.

She had been a servant when,to everybody's surprise,and her own especially,she married Melchior Krafft,Jean Michel's son.The Kraffts were without fortune,but were considerable people in the little Rhine town in which the old man had settled down more than fifty years before.Both father and son were musicians,and known to all the musicians of the country from Cologne to Mannheim.Melchior played the violin at the Hof-Theater,and Jean Michel had formerly been director of the grandducal concerts.The old man had been profoundly humiliated by his son's marriage,for he had built great hopes upon Melchior;he had wished to make him the distinguished man which he had failed to become himself.This mad freak destroyed all his ambitions.He had stormed at first,and showered curses upon Melchior and Louisa.But,being a goodhearted creature,he forgave his daughter-in-law when he learned to know her better;and he even came by a paternal affection for her,which showed itself for the most part in snubs.

No one ever understood what it was that drove Melchior to such a marriage—least of all Melchior.It was certainly not Louisa's beauty.She had no seductive quality:she was small,rather pale,and delicate,and she was a striking contrast to Melchior and Jean Michel,who were both big and broad,redfaced giants,heavy-handed,hearty eaters and drinkers,laughter-loving and noisy.She seemed to be crushed by them;no one noticed her,and she seemed to wish to escape even what little notice she attracted.If Melchior had been a kind-hearted man,it would have been credible that he should prefer Louisa's simple goodness to every other advantage;but a vainer man never was.It seemed incredible that a young man of his kidney,fairly good-looking,and quite conscious of it,very foolish,but not without talent,and in a position to look for some well-dowered match,and capable even—who knows?—of turning the head of one of his pupils among the people of the town,should suddenly have chosen a girl of the people—poor,uneducated,without beauty,a girl who could in no way advance his career.

But Melchior was one of those men who always do the opposite of what is expected of them and of what they expect of themselves.It is not that they are not warned—a man who is warned is worth two men,says the proverb.They profess never to be the dupe of anything,and that they steer their ship with unerring hand towards a definite point.But they reckon without themselves,for they do not know themselves.In one of those moments of forgetfulness which are habitual with them they let go the tiller,and,as is natural when things are left to themselves,they take a naughty pleasure in rounding on their masters.The ship which is released from its course at once strikes a rock,and Melchior,bent upon intrigue,married a cook.And yet he was neither drunk nor in a stupor on the day when he bound himself to her for life,and he was not under any passionate impulse;far from it.But perhaps there are in us forces other than mind and heart,other even than the senses—mysterious forces which take hold of us in the moments when the others are asleep;and perhaps it was such forces that Melchior had found in the depths of those pale eyes which had looked at him so timidly one evening when he had accosted the girl on the bank of the river,and had sat down beside her in the reeds—without knowing why—and had given her his hand.

Hardly was he married than he was appalled by what he had done,and he did not hide what he felt from poor Louisa,who humbly asked his pardon.He was not a bad fellow,and he willingly granted her that;but immediately remorse would seize him again when he was with his friends or in the houses of his rich pupils,who were disdainful in their treatment of him,and no longer trembled at the touch of his hand when he corrected the position of their fingers on the keyboard.Then he would return gloomy of countenance,and Louisa,with a catch at her heart,would read in it with the first glance the customary reproach;or he would stay out late at one inn or another,there to seek selfrespect or kindliness from others.On such evenings he would return shouting with laughter,and this was more doleful for Louisa than the hidden reproach and gloomy rancor that prevailed on other days.She felt that she was to a certain extent responsible for the fits of madness in which the small remnant of her husband's sense would disappear,together with the household money.Melchior sank lower and lower.At an age when he should have been engaged in unceasing toil to develop his mediocre talent,he just let things slide,and others took his place.

But what did that matter to the unknown force which had thrown

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