katherine-mansfield介绍.ppt

Katherine Mansfield,（1888-1923）,,Kathleen Mansfield Beauchamp(比彻姆) Murry (14 October 1888 – 9 January 1923) was a prominent modernist writer of short fiction who was born and brought up in colonial New Zealand and wrote under the pen name of Katherine Mansfield,,An outstanding short story writer. She was born in Wellington, New Zealand in 1888. She studied at Queens College, London, where she met D. H. Lawrence and John Middleton Murry, a famous critic, whom she later married.,,She had years of ill-health and struggled as a freelancer and reviewer, she achieved success with Bliss and Other Stories(1920) and The Garden Party(1922). Critics praised her for her capturing the essence of Chekhov‘s (契诃夫)art for stories emphasizing atmosphere and actual life rather than exciting plot, and for her “refreshing originality“ and “sensitiveness to beauty“. Just as she won world fame, however, her health grew worse. She died of tuberculosis in 1923.,,,Mansfield was greatly influenced by Anton Chekhov, sharing his warm humanity and attention to small details of human behavior. Her influence on the development of the modern short story was also notable. Among her literary friends were Aldous Huxley, Virginia Woolf,（赫胥黎，弗吉尼亚伍尔夫 ） who considered her overpraised, and D.H. Lawrence,（劳伦斯 ） who later turned against Murry and her.,,Mansfield's creative years were burdened with loneliness, illness, jealousy, alienation – all this reflected in her work with the bitter depiction of marital and family relationships of her middle-class characters. Her short stories are also notable for their use of stream of consciousness. Mansfield depicted trivial events and subtle changes in human behavior,,In a German Pension (1911) The Garden Party: and Other Stories (1922) The Doves' Nest: and Other Stories (1923) Bliss: and Other Stories (1923) The Montana Stories (1923) (Republished in 2001 by Persephone Books) Poems (1923) Something Childish (1924), first published in the U.S. as The Little Girl,德国退休金花园派对 （1922）鸽派‘鸟巢（1923年） - 浮生 （1923）蒙大拿州的故事 （1923）（2001年再版珀尔塞福涅书籍 ） 诗 （1923年)东西幼稚 （1924年),,Mansfield said “I imagine I was always writing. Twaddle it was, too. But better far write twaddle or anything, anything, than nothing at all.“,,哀曼殊斐儿 我昨夜梦入幽谷， 听子规在百合丛中泣血， 我昨夜梦登高峰， 见一颗光明泪自天坠落。

罗马西郊有座暮园， 芝罗兰静掩着客殇的诗骸； 百年后海岱士（Hades）黑辇之轮 又喧响于芳丹卜罗榆青之间 说宇宙是无情的机械， 为甚明灯似的理想闪耀在前； 说造化是真善美之创现， 为甚五彩虹不常住天边？ 我与你虽仅一度相见—— 但那二十分不死的时间！ 谁能信你那仙姿灵态， 竟已朝露似的永别人间？ 非也！生命只是个实体的幻梦； 美丽的灵魂，永承上帝的爱宠； 三十年小住，只似昙花之偶现， 泪花里我想见你笑归仙宫 你记否伦敦约言，曼殊斐儿！ 今夏再见于琴妮湖之边； 琴妮湖（Lake Geneva）永抱着白朗矶（Mount Blance）的雪影， 此日我怅望云天，泪下点点！ 我当年初临生命的消息， 梦觉似的骤感恋爱之庄严； 生命的觉悟是爱之成年， 我今又因死而感生与恋之涯沿！ 因情是掼不破的纯晶， 爱是实现生命之唯一途径： 死是座伟秘的洪炉，此中 凝炼万象所从来之神明 我哀思焉能电花似的飞聘， 感动你在天日遥远的灵魂？ 我洒泪向风中遥送， 问何时能戡破生死之门？,The fiction of Mansfield,AN IDEAL FAMILY THAT evening for the first time in his life, as he pressed through the swing door and descended the three broad steps to the pavement, old Mr. Neave felt he was too old for the spring. Spring–warm, eager, restless–was there, waiting for him in the golden light, ready in front of everybody to run up, to blow in his white beard, to drag sweetly on his arm. And he couldn‘t meet her……,details,He stumped along, lifting his knees high as if he were walking through air that had somehow grown heavy and solid like water. And the homeward-looking crowd hurried by, the trams clanked（有轨电车发出叮当声） the light carts clattered（咔嚓声）, the big swinging cabs bowled along with that reckless, defiant indifference that one knows only in dreams. . . .,,“Mother, can I come into your room?“ Laura turned the big glass door-knob. “Of course, child. Why, what's the matter? What's given you such a colour?“ And Mrs. Sheridan turned round from her dressing-table. She was trying on a new hat. “Mother, a man's been killed,“ began Laura. “Not in the garden?“ interrupted her mother. “No, no!“ “Oh, what a fright you gave me!“ Mrs. Sheridan sighed with relief, and took off the big hat and held it on her knees. “But listen, mother,“ said Laura. Breathless, half-choking, she told the dreadful story. “Of course, we can't have our party, can we?“ she pleaded. “The band and everybody arriving. They'd hear us, mother; they're nearly neighbours!“ To Laura's astonishment her mother behaved just like Jose; it was harder to bear because she seemed amused. She refused to take Laura seriously.,,“But, my dear child, use your common sense. It's only by accident we've heard of it. If some one had died there normally - and I can't understand how they keep alive in those poky little holes - we should still be having our party, shouldn't we?“ “Mother, isn't it terribly heartless of us?“ she asked. “Darling!“ Mrs. Sheridan got up and came over to her, carrying the hat. Before Laura could stop her she had popped it on. “My child!“ said her mother, “the hat is yours. It's made for you. It's much too young for me. I have never seen you look such a picture. Look at yourself!“ And she held up her hand-mirror.,。