生命法则（插图·中文导读英文版）pdf/doc/txt格式电子书下载

书名：生命法则（插图·中文导读英文版）pdf/doc/txt格式电子书下载

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作者：（美）杰克·伦敦,王勋,纪飞、等译

出版社：清华大学出版社

出版时间：2012-09-01

书籍编号：30143367

ISBN：9787302298410

正文语种：中英对照

字数：52520

版次：1

所属分类：外语学习-英语读物

生命法则（插图·中文导读英文版）

[美]杰克·伦敦 著

王勋 纪飞 等 编译

清华大学出版社

前言

杰克·伦敦（Jack London，1875—1916），原名约翰·格利菲斯·伦敦（John Griffith London），美国著名作家，在世界文学史上享有崇高的地位。

1876年1月12日，杰克·伦敦生于旧金山，是个私生子。后来，母亲改嫁给境况不佳的约翰·伦敦。他的童年是在穷苦中度过的，当过牧童、报童、童工、工人、水手。他还参加过1893年大恐慌中失业大军组成的抗议队伍，以流浪罪被捕入狱，被罚做苦工几个月。出狱后，他一边拼命干活，一边刻苦学习，广泛涉猎达尔文、斯宾塞、尼采和马克思等人的著作。1896年，他考进加利福尼亚大学，一年后辍学。后来受到阿拉斯加淘金热的影响，杰克·伦敦加入了淘金者的行列，却因病空手而归。在经历各种失败和挫折之后，杰克·伦敦萌发了写作的愿望。

1899年，他发表了第一篇小说《给猎人》；1900年，在他出版短篇小说集《狼之子》后，立即享誉文坛，并获得了丰厚的收入。从此，杰克·伦敦埋头读书写作，成为了职业作家。他是个多产的作家，一生共写了19部长篇小说、150多篇短篇小说以及3部剧本等。除《狼之子》之外，杰克·伦敦的著名作品还有：描写反抗压迫、回归自由与自然的《野性的呼唤》（1903），描写伦敦贫民生活的特写集《深渊中的人们》（1903），描写兽性般残忍和利己主义的长篇小说《海狼》（1904），野性的幼狼如何从荒野中进入文明世界的《白牙》（1906），政治幻想小说《铁蹄》（1908），自传体长篇小说《马丁·伊登》（1909）等。1916年11月22日，年杰克·伦敦在精神极度苦闷、空虚中自杀身亡。

除了长篇小说之外杰克·伦敦的短篇小说，在世界上也享有很高声誉，本书精选了他的小说8篇，采用中文导读英文版的形式出版。在中文导读中，我们尽力使其贴近原作的精髓，也尽可能保留原作的故事主线。我们希望能够编出为当代中国读者所喜爱的经典读本。读者在阅读英文故事之前，可以先阅读中文导读，这样有利于了解故事背景，从而加快阅读速度。同时，为了让读者更好地理解故事内容，书中加入了大量插图。我们相信，该经典著作的引进对加强当代中国读者，特别是青少年读者的人文修养是非常有帮助的。

本书主要内容由王勋、纪飞编译。参加本书故事素材搜集整理及编译工作的还有郑佳、刘乃亚、赵雪、熊金玉、李丽秀、熊红华、王婷婷、孟宪行、胡国平、李晓红、贡东兴、陈楠、邵舒丽、冯洁、王业伟、徐鑫、王晓旭、周丽萍、熊建国、徐平国、肖洁、王小红等。限于我们的科学、人文素养和英语水平，书中难免会有不当之处，衷心希望读者朋友批评指正。

生命法则/The Law of Life
导读
老科斯库什独自坐在那里，听着外面发生的一切。他的视力已经严重衰退，听力却仍很敏锐。他的外孙女正对着狗边套缰绳边骂，他的儿子正在拆兽皮小屋，女人们收拾行李，男人们拉紧皮带，他们都要走了，整个部落将迁徙至食物丰盛的远方。他们已经走出了他的生活，剩下的日子，老科斯库什将与一小捆木柴为伴，然后静静地走向死亡。
儿子走到科斯库什的旁边跟他告别，询问他好不好。老科斯库什告诉儿子，自己有些累了，但是还好。然后，儿子便带着全家离开了这里，脚踩雪地的声音越来越远，最后听不见了。老科斯库什心满意足地坐着，陷入了沉思。
在老科斯库什看来，新陈代谢是自然的现象，每一个女人都曾年轻漂亮、每一个动物都曾活蹦乱跳，终归于被抛弃、死去。个体的死活并不重要，种族的延续位于首位。他不埋怨子女们抛弃了自己，因为他也曾抛弃过自己的父亲。老科斯库什往火堆里加了一根木柴，思绪飘向了更遥远的过去。他想到了很久以前的一场大饥荒，三年没有下雪、三年又没有解冻的那些年头。他又想到自己儿时经历的富饶岁月，他们有吃不完的食物，每个人都饱食终日、无所事事。那时，他跟自己的伙伴金哈一起学着打猎。他们发现了一只老驯鹿和一群狼的搏斗，老驯鹿挣扎了很长的路，还击败了一次狼群，最终还是被狼群吃掉了。金哈后来成了全族最优秀的猎手，之后冻死在一个冰窟窿里。老科斯库什则成了部落酋长，做了很多勇敢的事。他回想着年轻时的岁月，火堆也烧了很久。这时，老科斯库什感到狼群围了过来。他挥舞着燃烧着的木柴，同时想到了那挣扎的老驯鹿。想到他和老驯鹿都已经完成了自然的使命，便疲倦地停了下来。
Old Koskoosh listened greedily. Though his sight had long since faded, his hearing was still acute, and the slightest sound penetrated to the glimmering intelligence which yet abode behind the withered forehead, but which no longer gazed forth upon the things of the world. Ah! that was Sit-cum-to-ha, shrilly anathematizing the dogs as she cuffed and beat them into the harnesses. Sit-cum-to-ha was his daughter’s daughter, but she was too busy to waste a thought upon her broken grandfather, sitting alone there in the snow, forlorn and helpless. Camp must be broken. The long trail waited while the short day refused to linger. Life called her, and the duties of life, not death. And he was very close to death now.
The thought made the old man panicky for the moment, and he stretched forth a palsied hand which wandered tremblingly over the small heap of dry wood beside him. Reassured that it was indeed there, his hand returned to the shelter of his mangy furs, and he again fell to listening. The sulky crackling of half-frozen hides told him that the chief’s moose-skin lodge had been struck, and even then was being rammed and jammed into portable compass. The chief was his son, stalwart and strong, head man of the tribesmen, and a mighty hunter. As the women toiled with the camp luggage, his voice rose, chiding them for their slowness. Old Koskoosh strained his ears. It was the last time he would hear that voice. There went Geehow’s lodge! And Tusken’s! Seven, eight, nine; only the shaman’s could be still standing. There! They were at work upon it now. He could hear the shaman grunt as he piled it on the sled. A child whimpered, and a woman soothed it with soft, crooning gutturals. Little Koo-tee, the old man thought, a fretful child, and not overstrong. It would die soon, perhaps, and they would burn a hole through the frozen tundra and pile rocks above to keep the wolverines away. Well, what did it matter? A few years at best, and as many an empty belly as a full one. And in the end, Death waited, ever-hungry and hungriest of them all.
What was that? Oh, the men lashing the sleds and drawing tight the thongs. He listened, who would listen no more. The whip-lashes snarled and bit among the dogs. Hear them whine! How they hated the work and the trail! They were off! Sled after sled churned slowly away into the silence. They were gone. They had passed out of his life, and he faced the last bitter hour alone. No. The snow crunched beneath a moccasin; a man stood beside him; upon his head a hand rested gently. His son was good to do this thing. He remembered other old men whose sons had not waited after the tribe. But his son had. He wandered away into the past, till the young man’s voice brought him back.
“Is it well with you?” he asked.
And the old man answered, “It is well.”
“There be wood beside you,” the younger man continued, “and the fire burns bright. The morning is gray, and the cold has broken. It will snow presently. Even now is it snowing.”
“Ay, even now is it snowing.”
“The tribesmen hurry. Their bales are heavy, and their bellies flat with lack of feasting. The trail is long and they travel fast. go now. It is well?”
“

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