双城记_双城记简介

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A tale of two cities of substance

旅英111 王浩斌

A tale of two cities is one of Dickens's most important representative works.The novel profoundly exposed the society contradiction before the French Revolution,intensely attacks the aristocratic social cla is diolute and cruel,and sincerely sympathizes with the depreed claes.The novel also described many magnificent scenes like the revolt people attacked Bastille and so on,which displayed people's great strength.The novel has portrayed many different people.Doctor Manette is honest and kind but suffers the persecution actually，Lucie is beautiful and gentle，Charles is graceful and noble，Lorry is upright and honest，Sydney is semblance of indifferent, innermost feelings of warm,unconventional but also selfle and lofty，Mi Pro is straightforward and loyal，Evremonde brothers are cruel and sinister......The complex hatred is hard to solve, the cruel revenge has made more hatreds, loves rebirth in the hell edge,but take the life as the price.As an outstanding writer,in Dickens's work,the language skill is eential.Each kind of rhetoric technique,like the analogy,the exaggeration,the contrast,the humorous,and the taunt are handled skillfully,and the artistry of the work is also delivered the peak.A tale of two cities has its difference with the general historical novel, its character and the main plot are all fictionalizes.With the broad real background of the French Revolution,the author take the fictional character Doctor Manette's experience as the main clue,interweaves the unjust charge, love and revenge three independences but also incident cro-correlation stories together,the plot is cri-croed,and the clue is complex.The author use insert narrates,foreshadowing,upholstery and so many techniques,causes the structure integrity and strictne,the plot winding anxious and rich of theatrical nature,it displayed the remarkable artistic skill.the style A tale of two cities is solemnity and melancholy,fills indignantion,but lacks the humor of the early works.句子Even the Cock-lane ghost had been laid only a round dozen of years, after rapping out its meagesIn short,the period was so far like the present period, that some of the noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparision only。3 It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishne, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkne, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way

4A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other.A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city by night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret;that every room in every one of them encloses its own

secret;that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there, is, in some of its imagin-ings, a secret to the heart nearest it!

6Something of the awfulne, even of Death itself, is referable to this.7The wine was red wine, and had stained the ground of the narrow street in the suburb of Saint Antoine, in Paris, where it was spilled.8It had stained many hands, too, and many faces, and many naked feet, and many wooden shoes.The hands of the man who sawed the wood, left red marks on the billets;and the forehead of the woman who nursed her baby, was stained with the stain of the old rag she wound about her head again.Those who had been greedy with the staves of the cask, had acquired a tigerish smear about the mouth;and one tall joker so besmirched, his head more out of a long squalid bag of a night-cap than in it, scrawled upon a wall with his finger dipped in muddy wine-lees—blood.Along the Paris streets, the death-carts rumble, hollow and harsh.Six tumbrels carry the day's wine to La Guillotine.All the devouring and insatiate Monsters imagined since imagination could record itself, are fused in one realization, Guillotine.And yet there is not in France, with its rich variety of soil and climate, a blade, a leaf, a root, a sprig, a peppercorn, which will grow to maturity under conditions more certain than those that have produced this horror.Crush humanity out of shape once more, under similar hammers, and it will twist itself into the same tortured forms.Sow the same seed of rapacious license and oppreion over again, and it will surely yield the same fruit according to its kind.I see a beautiful city and a brilliant people rising from this aby, and, in their struggles to be truly free, in their triumphs and defeats, through long years to come, I see the evil of this time and of the previous time of which this is the natural birth, gradually making expiation for itself and wearing out.I see him winning it so well, that my name is made illustrious there by the lightIt was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishne, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity,in short, the period was so.far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparisonit was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkne, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before uswe had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way。