喪鐘為誰(shuí)而鳴

內(nèi)容概要

　　《喪鐘為誰(shuí)而鳴》（舊譯《戰(zhàn)地鐘聲》）是中國(guó)人較早接觸到的海明威的長(zhǎng)篇小說(shuō)，作者將細(xì)膩的人物刻畫(huà)與緊湊的故事情節(jié)相結(jié)合，敘述美國(guó)志愿者羅伯特·喬丹支援西班牙政府軍的反法西斯戰(zhàn)爭(zhēng)、在戰(zhàn)地與一西班牙姑娘瑪麗亞相戀并最終戰(zhàn)死疆場(chǎng)的故事。海明威將全部情節(jié)壓縮在三天之內(nèi)，動(dòng)作描寫(xiě)準(zhǔn)確生動(dòng)，人物對(duì)話簡(jiǎn)約而各具特色，內(nèi)心獨(dú)白豐富多樣，表現(xiàn)了高超的寫(xiě)作技藝，至今仍是海明威小說(shuō)中最受人們喜愛(ài)的作品之一。

作者簡(jiǎn)介

　　ERNEST HEMINGWAY （1899—1961)， American author. Between themid-1920s and the mid-1950s， he produced most of his work， and in 1954 he won the Nobel Prize in Literature. Hemingway's fiction was successful because the characters he presented exhibited authenticity that resonated with his audience. Many of his works are classics of American literature. The most famous of Hemingway's novels are The Sun Also Rises（1926)，A Farewell to Arms（1929)， The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber（1935)，F(xiàn)or Whom the BeII Tolls（1940)， and The Old Man and the Sea （1951).

書(shū)籍目錄

INTRoDUCTIoN
FoR WHOM THE BELL ToLLS
　CHAPTER 1
　CHAPTER 2
　CHAPTER 3
　CHAPTER 4
　CHAPTER 5
　CHAPTER 6
　CHAPTER 7
　CHAPTER 8　　
　CHAPTER 9
　CHAPTER 10
　CHAPTER 11
　CHAPTER 12
　CHAPTER 13
　CHAPTER 14
　CHAPTER 15
　CHAPTER 16
　CHAPTER 17
　CHAPTER 18
　CHAPTER 19
　CHAPTER 20
　CHAPTER 21
　CHAPTER 22
　CHAPTER 23
　CHAPTER 24
　……

章節(jié)摘錄

　　CHAPTER 3　　THEY came down the last two hundred yards， moving carefully from tree to tree in the shadows and now， through the last pines of the steep lull side， the bridge was only fifty yards away. The late afternoon sun that still came over the brown shoulder of the mountain showed the bridge dark against the steep emptiness of the gorge. It was a steel bridge of a single span and there was a sentry box at each end. It was wide enough for two motor cars to pass and it spanned， in solid-flung metal grace， a deep gorge at the bottom of which， far below， a brook leaped in white water through rocks and boulders down to the main stream of the pass.　　The sun was in Robert Jordan's eyes and the bridge showed only in outline. Then the sun lessened and was gone and looking up through the trees at the brown， rounded height that it had gone behind， he saw， now， that he no longer looked into the glare， that the mountain slope was a delicate new green and that there were patches of old snow under the crest.　　Then he was watching the bridge again in the sudden short trueness of the little light that would be left， and studying its construction. The problem of its demolition was not difficult. As he watched he took out a notebook from his breast pocket and made several quick line sketches. Ashe made the drawings he did not figure the charges. He would do that later. Now he was noting the points where the explosive should be placed in order to cut the support of the span and drop a section of it into the gorge. It could be done unhurriedly， scientifically and correctly with a half dozen charges laid and braced to explode simultaneously; or it could be done roughly with two big ones. They would need to be very big ones， on opposite sides and should go at the same time. He sketched quickly and happily; glad at last to have the problem under his hand; glad at last actually to be engaged upon it. Then he shut his notebook， pushed the pencil into its leather holder in the edge of the flap， put the notebook in his pocket and buttoned the pocket.　　While he had sketched， Anselmo had been watching the road， the bridge and the sentry boxes. He thought they had come too close to the bridge for safety and when the sketching was finished， he was relieved.　　As Robert Jordan buttoned the flap of his pocket and then lay flat behind the pine trunk， looking out from behind it， Anselmo put his hand on his elbow and pointed with one finger.　　In the sentry box that faced toward them up the road， the sentry was sitting holding his rifle， the bayonet fixed， between his knees. He was smoking a cigarette and he wore a knitted cap and blanket style cape. At fifty yards， you could not see anything about his face. Robert Jordan put up his field glasses， shading the lenses carefully with his cupped hands even though there was now no sun to make a glint， and there was the rail of the bridge as clear as though you could reach out and touch it and there was the face of the senty so clear he could see the sunken cheeks， the ash on the cigarette and the greasy shine of the bayonet.　　……

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