Jane Eyre简·爱 英文原版 [平装] pdf epub mobi txt 电子书 下载 2025

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☆☆☆☆☆

Charlotte Bronte（夏洛蒂·勃朗特） 著

图书标签:

• 经典文学
• 英文原版
• 小说
• 维多利亚时期
• 女性文学
• 爱情
• 成长
• 哥特小说
• 社会批判
• 人物传记

出版社： Penguin

ISBN：9780451530912

商品编码：19008632

包装：平装

丛书名： Signet Classics

出版时间：2008-04-01

用纸：胶版纸

页数：408

正文语种：英文

商品尺寸：10.67x2.54x17.53cm

编辑推荐

　　《简·爱》是夏洛蒂·勃朗特的成名作及代表作，也是集经典性与流行性于一体的世界文学经典名著的典型代表。小说女主人公简·爱是英语文学中最早在社会生活中争取独立自主，并积极进取的女性形象之一；男主人公罗切斯特则是继《失乐园》中的撒旦之后，颇为典型的“黑色英雄”之一。

内容简介

Featuring an Introduction by Erica Jong, this book stars one of the most unforgettable heroines of all time. Jane Eyre is a first-person narrative of the title character. The novel goes through five distinct stages: Jane's childhood at Gateshead, where she is emotionally and physically abused by her aunt and cousins; her education at Lowood School, where she acquires friends and role models but also suffers privations and oppression; her time as the governess of Thornfield Hall, where she falls in love with her Byronic employer, Edward Rochester; her time with the Rivers family during which her earnest but cold clergyman-cousin St John Rivers proposes to her; and the finale with her reunion with and marriage to her beloved Rochester.

　　《简·爱》创作于英国谢菲尔德，是一部带有自传色彩的长篇小说，它阐释了这样一个主题：人的价值=尊严+爱。《简·爱》中的简爱人生追求有两个基本旋律：富有激情、幻想、反抗和坚持不懈的精神；对人间自由幸福的渴望和对更高精神境界的追求。这本小说的主题是通过对孤女坎坷不平的人生经历，成功地塑造了一个不安于现状、不甘受辱、敢于抗争的女性形象，反映一个平凡心灵的坦诚倾诉的呼号和责难，一个小写的人成为一个大写的人的渴望。 　　《简·爱》是一部反响巨大的书。出版商在1847年10月就出版了这部作品。萨克雷称赞它是“一位伟大天才的杰作”。次年印行第三版时，《评论季刊》上提到“《简·爱》与《名利场》受到同样广泛的欢迎。乔治·艾略特则深深地被《简·爱》陶醉了”。

作者简介

Charlotte Bront and her sisters Anne and Emily are acclaimed English novelists and poets. Charlotte is best know for her masterpiece Jane Eyre, and is also the author of Shirley and Villette.

　　夏洛蒂·勃朗特（1816～1855）英国女小说家。艾米莉·勃朗特之姐。出生于英国北部约克郡的豪渥斯。夏洛蒂·勃朗特排行第三，有两个姐姐、两个妹妹和一个弟弟。两个妹妹，即艾米莉·勃朗特和安恩·勃朗特，也是著名作家，因而在英国文学史上常有“勃朗特三姐妹”之称。夏洛蒂创作了《简爱》、《雪莉》、《教师》、《维莱蒂》四部小说和一些诗歌。另有一部没有完成的小说《爱玛》：只写了两章。”《简·爱》是她的处女作，也是代表作，至今仍受到广大读者的欢迎。

精彩书评

"So we open Jane Eyre....The writer has usby the hand, forces us along her road, makes us see what she sees, never leaves us for a moment or allows us to forget her. At the end we are steeped through and through with the genius, the vehemence, the indignation of Charlotte Bronte....It is the red and fitful glow of the heart's fire which illuminates her page."
--Virginia Woolf

精彩书摘

Chapter One

There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning; but since dinner (Mrs. Reed, when there was no company, dined early) the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so sombre, and a rain so penetrating, that further outdoor exercise was now out of the question.

I was glad of it; I never liked long walks, especially on chilly afternoons: dreadful to me was the coming home in the raw twilight, with nipped fingers and toes, and a heart saddened by the chidings of Bessie, the nurse, and humbled by the consciousness of my physical inferiority to Eliza, John, and Georgiana Reed.

The said Eliza, John, and Georgiana were now clustered round their mamma in the drawing-room: she lay reclined on a sofa by the fireside, and with her darlings about her (for the time neither quarrelling nor crying) looked perfectly happy. Me, she had dispensed from joining the group, saying, "She regretted to be under the necessity of keeping me at a distance; but that until she heard from Bessie, and could discover by her own observation that I was endeavouring in good earnest to acquire a more sociable and childlike disposition, a more attractive and sprightly manner--something lighter, franker, more natural, as it were--she really must exclude me from privileges intended only for contented, happy little children."

"What does Bessie say I have done?" I asked.

"Jane, I don't like cavillers or questioners; besides, there is something truly forbidding in a child taking up her elders in that manner. Be seated somewhere; and until you can speak pleasantly, remain silent."

A small breakfast-room adjoined the drawing-room, I slipped in there. It contained a bookcase; I soon possessed myself of a volume, taking care that it should be one stored with pictures. I mounted into the window-seat: gathering up my feet, I sat crosslegged, like a Turk; and, having drawn the red moreen curtain nearly close, I was shrined in double retirement.

Folds of scarlet drapery shut in my view to the right hand; to the left were the clear panes of glass, protecting, but not separating me from the drear November day. At intervals, while turning over the leaves in my book, I studied the aspect of that winter afternoon. Afar, it offered a pale blank of mist and cloud; near, a scene of wet lawn and storm-beat shrub, with ceaseless rain sweeping away wildly before a long and lamentable blast.

I returned to my book--Bewick's History of British Birds: the letterpress thereof I cared little for, generally speaking; and yet there were certain introductory pages that, child as I was, I could not pass quite as a blank. They were those which treat of the haunts of sea-fowl; of "the solitary rocks and promontories" by them only inhabited; of the coast of Norway, studded with isles from its southern extremity, the Lindeness, or Naze, to the North Cape--

Where the Northern Ocean, in vast whirls,

Boils round the naked, melancholy isles

Of farthest Thule; and the Atlantic surge

Pours in among the stormy Hebrides.

Nor could I pass unnoticed the suggestion of the bleak shores of Lapland, Siberia, Spitzbergen, Nova Zembla, Iceland, Greenland, with "the vast sweep of the Arctic Zone, and those forlorn regions of dreary space--that reservoir of frost and snow, where firm fields of ice, the accumulation of centuries of winters, glazed in Alpine heights above heights, surround the pole, and concentre the multiplied rigours of extreme cold." Of these death-white realms I formed an idea of my own: shadowy, like all the half-comprehended notions that float dim through children's brains, but strangely impressive. The words in these introductory pages connected themselves with the succeeding vignettes, and gave significance to the rock standing up alone in a sea of billow and spray; to the broken boat stranded on a desolate coast; to the cold and ghastly moon glancing through bars of cloud at a wreck just sinking.

I cannot tell what sentiment haunted the quite solitary churchyard, with its inscribed headstone; its gate, its two trees, its low horizon, girdled by a broken wall, and its newly risen crescent, attesting the hour of eventide.

The two ships becalmed on a torpid sea, I believed to be marine phantoms.

The fiend pinning down the thief's pack behind him, I passed over quickly: it was an object of terror.

So was the black, horned thing seated aloof on a rock, surveying a distant crowd surrounding a gallows.

Each picture told a story; mysterious often to my undeveloped understanding and imperfect feelings, yet ever profoundly interesting: as interesting as the tales Bessie sometimes narrated on winter evenings, when she chanced to be in good humour; and when, having brought her ironing-table to the nursery-hearth, she allowed us to sit about it, and while she got up Mrs. Reed's lace frills, and crimped her nightcap borders, fed our eager attention with passages of love and adventure taken from old fairy tales and older ballads; or (as at a later period I discovered) from the pages of Pamela, and Henry, Earl of Moreland.

With Bewick on my knee, I was then happy: happy at least in my way. I feared nothing but interruption, and that came too soon. The breakfast-room door was opened.

"Boh! Madam Mope!" cried the voice of John Reed; then he paused: he found the room apparently empty.

"Where the dickens is she?" he continued. "Lizzy! Georgy! (calling to his sisters) Jane is not here: tell mamma she is run out into the rain--bad animal!"

"It is well I drew the curtain," thought I, and I wished fervently he might not discover my hiding-place: nor would John Reed have found it out himself; he was not quick either of vision or conception; but Eliza just put her head in at the door, and said at once: "She is in the window-seat, to be sure, Jack."

And I came out immediately, for I trembled at the idea of being dragged forth by the said Jack.

"What do you want?" I asked with awkward diffidence.

"Say, 'what do you want, Master Reed,' " was the answer. "I want you to come here"; and seating himself in an arm-chair, he intimated by a gesture that I was to approach and stand before him.

John Reed was a schoolboy of fourteen years old; four years older than I, for I was but ten; large and stout for his age, with a dingy and unwholesome skin; thick lineaments in a spacious visage, heavy limbs and large extremities. He gorged himself habitually at table, which made him bilious, and gave him a dim and bleared eye with flabby cheeks. He ought now to have been at school; but his mamma had taken him home for a month or two, "on account of his delicate health." Mr. Miles, the master, affirmed that he would do very well if he had fewer cakes and sweetmeats sent him from home; but the mother's heart turned from an opinion so harsh, and inclined rather to the more refined idea that John's sallowness was owing to over-application, and, perhaps, to pining after home.

John had not much affection for his mother and sisters, and an antipathy to me. He bullied and punished me; not two or three times in the week, nor once or twice in a day, but continually: every nerve I had feared him, and every morsel of flesh on my bones shrank when he came near. There were moments when I was bewildered by the terror he inspired, because I had no appeal whatever against either his menaces or his inflictions; the servants did not like to offend their young master by taking my part against him, and Mrs. Reed was blind and deaf on the subject: she never saw him strike or heard him abuse me, though he did both now and then in her very presence; more frequently, however, behind her back.

Habitually obedient to John, I came up to his chair: he spent some three minutes in thrusting out his tongue at me as far as he could without damaging the roots: I knew he would soon strike, and while dreading the blow, I mused on the disgusting and ugly appearance of him who would presently deal it. I wonder if he read that notion in my face; for, all at once, without speaking, he struck suddenly and strongly. I tottered, and on regaining my equilibrium retired back a step or two from his chair.

"That is for your impudence in answering mamma a while since," said he, "and for your sneaking way of getting behind curtains, and for the look you had in your eyes two minutes since, you rat!"

Accustomed to John Reed's abuse, I never had an idea of replying to it: my care was how to endure the blow which would certainly follow the insult.

"What were you doing behind the curtain?" he asked.

"I was reading."

"Show the book."

I returned to the window and fetched it thence.

"You have no business to take our books; you are a dependant, mamma says; you have no money; your father left you none; you ought to beg, and not to live here with gentlemen's children like us, and eat the same meals we do, and wear clothes at our mamma's expense. Now, I'll teach you to rummage my bookshelves: for they are mine; all the house belongs to me, or will do in a few years. Go and stand by the door, out of the way of the mirror and the windows."

I did so, not at first aware what was his intention; but when I saw him lift and poise the book and stand in act to hurl it, I instinctively started aside with a cry of alarm: not soon enough, however; the volume was flung, it hit me, and I fell, striking my head against the door and cutting it. The cut bled, the pain was sharp: my terror had passed its climax; other feelings succeeded.

"Wicked and cruel boy!" I said. "You are like a murderer--you are like a slave-driver--you are like the Roman emperors!"
…

前言/序言

《傲慢与偏见》 作者：简·奥斯汀 类型：经典文学、爱情小说、风俗小说 译者：[此处可根据实际情况填写常用译者，例如：周煦良、王科一、王科等] 版本特点：[此处可根据实际情况填写，例如：精装/平装，附带导读/注释等] --- 内容梗概与主题深度剖析 《傲慢与偏见》（Pride and Prejudice）是英国文学史上最光辉的篇章之一，它以其机智的对白、入木三分的人物刻画以及对十八世纪末十九世纪初英国乡绅阶层社会风貌的精准描摹，赢得了世界范围内无数读者的钟爱。故事的核心围绕着贝内特（Bennet）家的五位女儿展开，尤其聚焦于二女儿伊丽莎白·贝内特（Elizabeth Bennet）与富有的达西先生（Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy）之间，从最初的误解、对立，到最终理解、相爱的复杂历程。 一、 婚姻的现实与理想的追求 故事的开端，便奠定了其强烈的社会背景：“一个拥有大量财产的单身汉，总有一天会需要一个妻子。”这一广为人知的开场白，毫不掩饰地揭示了当时社会对女性而言，婚姻几乎是唯一的经济保障和上升途径。贝内特夫人毕生的心愿就是将女儿们嫁入豪门。然而，奥斯汀的高明之处在于，她并未将婚姻仅仅描绘成一桩利益交换，而是将其置于道德、情感和智识的交叉点上。 伊丽莎白是其中最独特的一位。她拥有敏锐的洞察力、活泼的头脑和不屈的独立精神。她拒绝了暴躁的堂兄柯林斯先生（Mr. Collins）的求婚，即便这意味着放弃物质保障，也宁愿坚持自我。她追求的是建立在相互尊重和真挚情感基础上的结合，这在当时无疑是相当前卫的。与之相对，大姐简·贝内特（Jane Bennet）的美丽与善良让她成为了完美的典范，但她的过于温和也使得她在复杂的人际关系中容易受到伤害。 二、 傲慢与偏见的双重陷阱 小说标题直指核心冲突：达西先生的“傲慢”与伊丽莎白的“偏见”。 达西的傲慢（Pride）： 达西先生是一位拥有巨额财富和显赫地位的贵族，他习惯于以社会阶层和出身来衡量一切。初次见面时，他对伊丽莎白家族社会地位的轻蔑，以及对伊丽莎白“尚可”的评价（“她尚可，但不足以吸引我”），深深地刺伤了伊丽莎白的自尊心。他的傲慢源于根深蒂固的阶级观念，使他难以放下身段去平等地看待他人。 伊丽莎白的偏见（Prejudice）： 伊丽莎白则因为达西的傲慢以及受威克汉（Wickham）的花言巧语所蒙蔽，对达西形成了强烈的负面看法。她只相信自己眼见为实的第一印象，并以一种近乎审判者的姿态，固执地拒绝相信达西可能有任何优点。这种偏见使得她错失了对事物本质的判断，甚至不惜以尖锐的言辞回击达西的求婚。 两人的关系正是这种“傲慢”与“偏见”相互作用的结果。直到达西写下那封至关重要的解释信，揭露了威克汉的真实面目，并解释了他干预简与宾利先生（Mr. Bingley）恋情的“苦衷”（源于对简感情不够坚定的误判），伊丽莎白才开始反思自己的判断。 三、 人物群像的立体描绘 奥斯汀通过一系列精心构建的配角，丰满了作品的社会画卷： 宾利先生（Mr. Bingley）： 善良、随和，缺乏主见，是阶级偏见（通过他的姐姐们和达西）的牺牲品。 柯林斯先生（Mr. Collins）： 教区牧师，一位典型的趋炎附势、迂腐可笑的人物。他是中产阶级对贵族依附心态的讽刺性体现。 夏洛特·卢卡斯（Charlotte Lucas）： 伊丽莎白最好的朋友，她接受了柯林斯的求婚，选择了“务实”的婚姻。她的选择为读者提供了对当时社会困境的另一种严肃考量。 威克汉（George Wickham）： 迷人的浪子，以英俊外表和动听故事包装其道德败坏的本质，是“表象与真实”主题的关键注脚。 拉迪默夫人（Lady Catherine de Bourgh）： 达西的姨妈，代表了贵族阶层的极端傲慢和对社会等级秩序的僵硬维护。她对伊丽莎白的威压，反倒进一步激发了伊丽莎白的勇气和对自由意志的坚持。 四、 精神的成熟与超越阶级 小说的后半部分着重描写了伊丽莎白和达西在经历个人危机和深刻反思后的“重生”。伊丽莎白在达西庄园彭伯利（Pemberley）的访问中，看到了一个更为谦逊、仁慈的达西，一个懂得体恤下人、具有高尚品格的主人。这种环境的改变，促使她审视自己先前基于嫉妒和片面信息的判断。 达西也必须克服他对财富和地位的执念。他最终采取了最具个人牺牲精神的行动——匿名帮助解决其小妹莉迪亚（Lydia Bennet）的私奔丑闻。这一举动不仅展现了他对简·奥斯汀式美德的真正理解（即责任感和正直），也证明了他对伊丽莎白深厚的、超越身份的爱。 五、 永恒的价值 《傲慢与偏见》不仅是浪漫小说的典范，更是一部深刻的社会讽刺剧。它探讨了独立思考的重要性、真爱必须建立在相互理解之上、以及个人价值如何超越僵化的社会标签。奥斯汀以其独特的幽默感和对白艺术，让这部作品在问世两百多年后，依然闪耀着智慧的光芒，是了解英国维多利亚时代前夕社会结构、习俗和女性命运的不可或缺的文本。 --- 附注： 本书包含深入的文本分析、时代背景介绍以及对主要人物关系发展的详细注释，旨在帮助读者更全面地理解奥斯汀作品的精妙之处。

评分☆☆☆☆☆

这本《简·爱》简直是打开了我对经典文学的另一扇窗！收到的时候，就为这平装版的质感惊喜不已。不是那种硬邦邦的精装，也不是 flimsy 的纸质，恰到好处的厚度和柔韧度，拿在手里，有一种温暖而踏实的触感。翻开书页，那排版和字体，是我一直以来阅读英文原版书籍所钟爱的类型，清晰、优雅，字里行间似乎带着一种沉静的力量，仿佛作者本人就坐在我对面，娓娓道来。我一直对英语的细微之处和表达方式很感兴趣，而阅读原版《简·爱》，无疑是一种极致的体验。那些在中文翻译中可能会被削弱或改变的语境、情感的微妙层次，在英文原著里得到了最直接、最生动的展现。我常常会停下来，反复咀嚼某个词汇，或者某一句的句式结构，体会它所传达出的力量感和情感张力。每一次阅读，都能从中获得新的理解和感悟，这种沉浸式的阅读体验，是任何摘要或解读都无法比拟的。这本书不仅仅是一本书，更像是一位老友，在寂静的夜晚，陪我一同经历那些起伏跌宕的人生。

评分☆☆☆☆☆

这本《简·爱》英文原版，是我近期阅读体验中最满意的一次。平装的设计，让我觉得更加亲切和实用，我可以随身携带，随时随地沉浸其中。打开书，我就被那种古朴典雅的排版风格吸引了，字体大小适中，印刷清晰，阅读起来非常舒服，一点都不会感到疲惫。我一直对英语文学有着浓厚的兴趣，而《简·爱》作为一部世界名著，用英文原版来阅读，对我来说，是一种至高无上的享受。我能够直接感受到作者对于人物内心世界的细致描绘，那些细腻的情感，那些深刻的哲思，都通过英文的语汇和句式，得到最淋漓尽致的表达。每一次翻开这本书，我都会被简·爱那坚韧不拔的精神所打动，她对爱情的忠诚，对自由的向往，都通过她自己的语言，变得更加鲜活、更加震撼。这本书，不只是一个故事，更是一次心灵的洗礼，而英文原版，则让我得到了最纯粹、最深刻的体验。

评分☆☆☆☆☆

这本《简·爱》的平装版本，对我来说，绝对是物超所值的一次购买。拿到手里的时候，就觉得它有一种低调的质感，不张扬，却透露出一种沉甸甸的分量。页面的纸质、印刷的清晰度，都完全符合我对一本好书的期待。更重要的是，阅读英文原版，让我有机会去感受夏洛蒂·勃朗特文字的原汁原味。我一直觉得，语言是思想的载体，而英文的表达方式，尤其是19世纪的文学语言，有着其独特的韵味和魅力。通过阅读这本原著，我能够更深入地理解简·爱这个角色的复杂性，以及她所处的社会环境对她的影响。那些英文单词的选用，那些句子的排列组合，都仿佛在诉说着一个鲜活的故事，让我身临其境。我常常会因为某个词语的精准表达而惊叹，或者因为某个句子所蕴含的情感深度而动容。这本书，不仅让我重温了经典，更是一次对英语学习的极大促进。

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我对这本《简·爱》的喜爱，很大程度上源于它那份纯粹的、不加修饰的英文表达。我一直认为，想要真正理解一个故事的灵魂，最好的方式就是去读它的源头。中文翻译固然精彩，但总会有一些难以跨越的文化和语言鸿沟。而这本平装版的英文原著，就像一面清澈的镜子，让我得以窥见夏洛蒂·勃朗特笔下那个独立、坚韧的灵魂最真实的面貌。我特别喜欢它在细节上的描绘，那些关于人物内心世界的细腻刻画，通过英文的语汇和句式，显得更加深刻和震撼。我常常会沉浸在简·爱那些充满力量的内心独白中，感受她所承受的痛苦、她内心的挣扎，以及她对自由和尊严的不懈追求。每一次阅读，都能感受到语言的魅力，那种精准、生动，又充满情感张力的表达，让人拍案叫绝。这本书不仅仅是一部小说，更像是一堂关于人性、关于勇气、关于爱的深刻课程，而英文原版，则是我学习这堂课程最直接、最有效的方式。

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选择这本《简·爱》的英文原版平装，是我一直以来的一个小小愿望。终于拿到手，它的质感确实没有让我失望，纸张的触感温润，印刷清晰，虽然是平装，但装订牢固，翻阅起来非常舒适。我一直认为，文学作品最核心的魅力，在于其原创的语言。中文翻译虽然精妙，但总归是隔了一层。而阅读英文原版，就像直接品尝陈年的佳酿，那种原汁原味的醇厚感，是任何转述都无法替代的。我尤其喜欢作者在描写简·爱内心世界时的那些精巧的词汇和句子结构，它们能够精准地传达出人物复杂的思绪和情感。每一次阅读，都能从中体会到英语作为一种语言的细腻和力量，那种情感的层次感和语境的微妙变化，都让我受益匪浅。这本书，对我而言，不仅仅是一部小说，更是一次沉浸式的语言和情感之旅，而英文原版，无疑是开启这场旅程的最佳钥匙。

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好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好好看!

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好不错

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给儿子买的书，还不错，儿子喜欢。

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书挺不错的，买来送人

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一直在京东买书，方便又实惠

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书挺不错的，买来送人

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长得像盗版的

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垃圾盗版书，建议不要买

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非常好非常好非常好非常好非常好非常好非常好。