本書為英國作家奧威爾的首部長篇作品。全書分為兩部分，分別圍繞兩個城市的貧窮地區展開，描寫底層社會的生活，深入剖析貧困的真實含義，主角是一位落魄的英國文人。第一部分敘述主角在巴黎當臨時工的潦倒經歷。第二部分描述主角流落回倫敦，以流浪漢的身份到處顛沛流離的種種經歷。本書根據奧威爾1927年至1931年間對流浪者的調查及親身體驗的真實經歷寫成，經過多次退稿，於1933年出版。出版後大獲好評，長銷不衰，也令奧威爾在文壇嶄露頭角。
基本介紹
- 書名：雙語譯林070:巴黎倫敦落魄記
- 作者：喬治·歐威爾
- 出版社：譯林出版社
- 頁數：376頁
- 開本：16
- 品牌：鳳凰壹力
- 外文名：Down and Out in Paris and London
- 譯者：孫仲旭
- 出版日期：2014年4月1日
- 語種：簡體中文
- ISBN：9787544713115
基本介紹,內容簡介,作者簡介,圖書目錄,文摘,名人推薦,
基本介紹
內容簡介
20 世紀最具影響力的英國作家之一
奧威爾首部長篇力作
以親身流浪經歷為素材 揭開貧窮的真相
買中文版送英文版
頁
奧威爾首部長篇力作
以親身流浪經歷為素材 揭開貧窮的真相
買中文版送英文版
頁
作者簡介
喬治·歐威爾（George Orwell，1903—1950年），英國小說家、散文家、記者和評論家。出生於印度，受教於英國伊頓公學，在緬甸當過警察，參加過西班牙內戰。奧威爾一生短暫，顛沛流離，但始終以深邃的洞察力和犀利的文筆記錄他所生活的時代，並作出了超越時代的預言，被譽為 “一代人的冷峻良心”。其代表作為《一九八四》和《動物莊園》，是世界文壇最為著名的政治諷喻小說。
圖書目錄
《雙語譯林壹力文庫 070 巴黎倫敦落魄記》無目錄。
文摘
巴黎，金雞街，早上七點鐘。街上響起一連串大吵大鬧的聲音，怒氣沖沖，又沙又啞。蒙塞太太，我所住旅館對面另一家小旅館的老闆娘，走出來站在人行道上向三樓的某個房客喊話。她的赤腳勉強塞在木鞋裡，花白的頭髮披散著。
蒙塞太太：“賤貨！賤貨！別把臭蟲按死到牆紙上，我跟你說過多少次？你以為你把整個旅館都買下來了，呃？你就不能像別人一樣扔到窗戶外面？婊子，賤貨！”
三樓的女人：“母牛！”
話音剛落，街兩邊的窗戶都猛地打開，響起七嘴八舌的喊叫聲，半條街上的人都加入了爭吵。十分鐘後，在聽到一隊騎兵騎馬經過時，人們一下子全住了口，不再喊叫，而是看騎兵。
我勾勒出這幕情景，只是為了略表金雞街的韻味，倒不是說那裡除了吵架就沒有別的——話雖如此，我們還是幾乎每天早上都少不了聽到上述那種吵鬧，說來就來，至少會有一場。吵架聲，街頭小販有氣無力的叫賣聲，在鵝卵石街道上搶橘子皮的小孩子的大呼小叫聲，還有夜晚響亮的歌聲和垃圾車的酸臭味，這些構成了這條街的氛圍。
這條街很窄——狀如一道峽谷，兩邊都是高大而醜陋的房子，奇形怪狀地互相湊近，像是正要塌掉，卻全被定住了。這些房子都是旅館，房客住得滿噹噹的，主要是波蘭人、阿拉伯人和義大利人。旅館樓底是小酒館，可以花相當於一先令的錢買醉。星期六晚上，這一帶的男性居民中有三分之一都會醉掉。男人會為了女人打架，住在最廉價旅館裡的阿拉伯苦力經常莫名其妙地結仇，拿椅子來解決，偶爾還用上左輪手槍。夜裡警察只敢兩個一起來。這是個鬧哄哄的地方。然而在這一片喧囂和污穢中，還住著平日品行端正的法國店主、麵包師和洗衣婦等諸如此類的人，安分守己，埋頭髮著小財。這是一處很具代表性的巴黎貧民窟。
The Rue du Coq d’Or, Paris, seven in the morning. A succession of furious, choking yells from the street. Madame Monce, who kept the little hotel opposite mine, had come out on to the pavement to address a lodger on the third floor. Her bare feet were stuck into sabots and her grey hair was streaming down.
Madame monce: ‘Salope! Salope! How many times have I told you not to squash bugs on the wallpaper? Do you think you’ve bought the hotel, eh? Why can’t you throw them out of the window like everyone else? Putin! Salope!’
The Woman On The Third Floor: ‘Vache!’
Thereupon a whole variegated chorus of yells, as windows were flung open on every side and half the street joined in the quarrel. They shut up abruptly ten minutes later, when a squadron of cavalry rode past and people stopped shouting to look at them.
I sketch this scene, just to convey something of the spirit of the Rue du Coq d’Or. Not that quarrels were the only thing that happened there—but still, we seldom got through the morning without at least one outburst of this description. Quarrels, and the desolate cries of street hawkers, and the shouts of children chasing orange-peel over the cobbles, and at night loud singing and the sour reek of the refuse-carts, made up the atmosphere of the street.
It was a very narrow street—a ravine of tall, leprous houses, lurching towards one another in queer attitudes, as though they had all been frozen in the act of collapse. All the houses were hotels and packed to the tiles with lodgers, mostly Poles, Arabs and Italians. At the foot of the hotels were tiny bistros, where you could be drunk for the equivalent of a shilling. On Saturday nights about a third of the male population of the quarter was drunk. There was fighting over women, and the Arab navvies who lived in the cheapest hotels used to conduct mysterious feuds, and fight them out with chairs and occasionally revolvers. At night the policemen would only come through the street two together. It was a fairly rackety place. And yet amid the noise and dirt lived the usual respectable French shopkeepers, bakers and laundresses and the like, keeping themselves to themselves and quietly piling up small fortunes. It was quite a representative Paris slum.
蒙塞太太：“賤貨！賤貨！別把臭蟲按死到牆紙上，我跟你說過多少次？你以為你把整個旅館都買下來了，呃？你就不能像別人一樣扔到窗戶外面？婊子，賤貨！”
三樓的女人：“母牛！”
話音剛落，街兩邊的窗戶都猛地打開，響起七嘴八舌的喊叫聲，半條街上的人都加入了爭吵。十分鐘後，在聽到一隊騎兵騎馬經過時，人們一下子全住了口，不再喊叫，而是看騎兵。
我勾勒出這幕情景，只是為了略表金雞街的韻味，倒不是說那裡除了吵架就沒有別的——話雖如此，我們還是幾乎每天早上都少不了聽到上述那種吵鬧，說來就來，至少會有一場。吵架聲，街頭小販有氣無力的叫賣聲，在鵝卵石街道上搶橘子皮的小孩子的大呼小叫聲，還有夜晚響亮的歌聲和垃圾車的酸臭味，這些構成了這條街的氛圍。
這條街很窄——狀如一道峽谷，兩邊都是高大而醜陋的房子，奇形怪狀地互相湊近，像是正要塌掉，卻全被定住了。這些房子都是旅館，房客住得滿噹噹的，主要是波蘭人、阿拉伯人和義大利人。旅館樓底是小酒館，可以花相當於一先令的錢買醉。星期六晚上，這一帶的男性居民中有三分之一都會醉掉。男人會為了女人打架，住在最廉價旅館裡的阿拉伯苦力經常莫名其妙地結仇，拿椅子來解決，偶爾還用上左輪手槍。夜裡警察只敢兩個一起來。這是個鬧哄哄的地方。然而在這一片喧囂和污穢中，還住著平日品行端正的法國店主、麵包師和洗衣婦等諸如此類的人，安分守己，埋頭髮著小財。這是一處很具代表性的巴黎貧民窟。
The Rue du Coq d’Or, Paris, seven in the morning. A succession of furious, choking yells from the street. Madame Monce, who kept the little hotel opposite mine, had come out on to the pavement to address a lodger on the third floor. Her bare feet were stuck into sabots and her grey hair was streaming down.
Madame monce: ‘Salope! Salope! How many times have I told you not to squash bugs on the wallpaper? Do you think you’ve bought the hotel, eh? Why can’t you throw them out of the window like everyone else? Putin! Salope!’
The Woman On The Third Floor: ‘Vache!’
Thereupon a whole variegated chorus of yells, as windows were flung open on every side and half the street joined in the quarrel. They shut up abruptly ten minutes later, when a squadron of cavalry rode past and people stopped shouting to look at them.
I sketch this scene, just to convey something of the spirit of the Rue du Coq d’Or. Not that quarrels were the only thing that happened there—but still, we seldom got through the morning without at least one outburst of this description. Quarrels, and the desolate cries of street hawkers, and the shouts of children chasing orange-peel over the cobbles, and at night loud singing and the sour reek of the refuse-carts, made up the atmosphere of the street.
It was a very narrow street—a ravine of tall, leprous houses, lurching towards one another in queer attitudes, as though they had all been frozen in the act of collapse. All the houses were hotels and packed to the tiles with lodgers, mostly Poles, Arabs and Italians. At the foot of the hotels were tiny bistros, where you could be drunk for the equivalent of a shilling. On Saturday nights about a third of the male population of the quarter was drunk. There was fighting over women, and the Arab navvies who lived in the cheapest hotels used to conduct mysterious feuds, and fight them out with chairs and occasionally revolvers. At night the policemen would only come through the street two together. It was a fairly rackety place. And yet amid the noise and dirt lived the usual respectable French shopkeepers, bakers and laundresses and the like, keeping themselves to themselves and quietly piling up small fortunes. It was quite a representative Paris slum.
名人推薦
他的《巴黎倫敦落魂記》讓我喜歡得要命，我認為它是一部經典著作。在我看來，這仍是他的最佳作品。
——亨利·米勒
——亨利·米勒
