英国文学讲课稿.doc

英国文学 精品文档 精品文档 收集于网络，如有侵权请联系管理员删除 收集于网络，如有侵权请联系管理员删除 精品文档 收集于网络，如有侵权请联系管理员删除 Novel Analysis ALTHOUGH Bertha Young was thirty she still had moments like this when she wanted to run instead of walk, to take dancing steps on and off the pavement, to bowl a hoop, to throw something up in the air and catch it again, or to stand still and laugh at–nothing–at nothing, simply. What can you do if you are thirty and, turning the corner of your own street, you are overcome, suddenly by a feeling of bliss–absolute bliss!–as though youd suddenly swallowed a bright piece of that late afternoon sun and it burned in your bosom, sending out a little shower of sparks into every particle, into every finger and toe? . . . Oh, is there no way you can express it without being drunk and disorderly ? How idiotic civilization is! Why be given a body if you have to keep it shut up in a case like a rare, rare fiddle? No, that about the fiddle is not quite what I mean, she thought, running up the steps and feeling in her bag for the key–shed forgotten it, as usual––and rattling the letter-box. Its not what I mean, because–Thank you, Mary––she went into the hall. Is nurse back? Yes, Mm. And has the fruit come? Yes, Mm. Everythings come. Bring the fruit up to the dining-room, will you? Ill arrange it before I go upstairs. It was dusky in the dining-room and quite chilly. But all the same Bertha threw off her coat; she could not bear the tight clasp of it another moment, and the cold air fell on her arms. But in her bosom there was still that bright glowing place––that shower of little sparks coming from it. It was almost unbearable. She hardly dared to breathe for fear of fanning it higher, and yet she breathed deeply, deeply. She hardly dared to look into the cold mirror––but she did look, and it gave her back a woman, radiant, with smiling, trembling lips, with big, dark eyes and an air of listening, waiting for something . . . divine to hap