the last leaf 最后一片叶子
最后一片叶子The-Last-Leaf-赏析
最后一片叶子T h e-L a s t-L e a f-赏析(总4页)--本页仅作为文档封面，使用时请直接删除即可----内页可以根据需求调整合适字体及大小--最后一片叶子The Last Leaf 赏析【摘要】美国著名短篇小说家欧·亨利《最后一片叶子》描写了一个已经濒于死亡的贫穷女画家乔安西因为一片永不凋落的常春藤叶而恢复健康的离奇故事，塑造了一个命运不济，但品德高尚的老画家贝尔门的形象，歌颂了他舍己为人的崇高精神，从而唱出了一曲生命与希望的赞歌，歌颂了人性的美与善。
《最后一片叶子》作为欧·亨利的代表作，充分体现了这位“世界短篇小说之王”的创作特色。
文中作者着力挖掘和赞美小人物的伟大人格和高尚品德，展示他们向往人性世界的美好愿望The Novel "The Last Leaf" is about a young girl decidesthat she will die when the last leaf drops from a dying vine outside her window, as lingering pneumonia slowly takes her will to live. Her neighbor, Art Carney, is an elderly artist frustrated by his inability to paint what is in his heart. In an attempt to save the young girl, he creates the masterpiece he has been struggling to paint. A beautifully shot and moving story. This excellent short novel is my favorite story. Art Carney does a great job, although his character is French in this version, as opposed to the German character in the book. and just like the book,it truly touched the heart of its reader.【关键词】生命；希望；赞歌；一、希望的使者“当最后一片叶子落下时，生命就都结束了，我也得离开这个世界而去了”，女画家乔安西，患了肺炎濒临大限时，丧失了生的希望，她天天躺在床上望着窗外长春藤上的叶子想：等到最后一片叶子凋零时，我的生命也就走到了尽头。
【英文原版小说】欧·亨利短篇小说-TheLastLeaf最后一片叶子
The Last Leaf最后一片叶子IIn a little district west of Washington Square the streets have run crazy and broken themselves into small strips called "places." These "places" make strange angles and curves. One Street crosses itself a time or two. An artist once discovered a valuable possibility in this street. Suppose a collector with a bill for paints, paper and canvas should, in traversing this route, suddenly meet himself coming back, without a cent having been paid on account!So, to quaint old Greenwich Village the art people soon came prowling, hunting for north windows and eighteenth-century gables and Dutch attics and low rents. Then they imported some pewter mugs and a chafing dish or two from Sixth Avenue, and became a "colony."At the top of a squatty, three-story brick Sue and Johnsy had their studio. "Johnsy" was familiar for Joanna. One was from Maine; the other from California. They had met at the table d'h?te of an Eighth Street "Delmonico's," and found their tastes in art, chicory salad and bishop sleeves so congenial that the joint studio resulted.That was in May. In November a cold, unseen stranger, whom the doctors called Pneumonia, stalked about the colony, touching one here and there with his icy fingers.Over on the east side this ravager strode boldly, smiting his victims by scores, but his feet trod slowly through the maze of the narrow and moss-grown "places."Mr. Pneumonia was not what you would call a chivalric old gentleman. A mite of a little woman with blood thinned by California zephyrs was hardly fair game for the red-fisted, short-breathed old duffer. But Johnsy he smote; and she lay, scarcely moving, on her painted iron bedstead, looking through the small Dutch window-panes at the blank side of the next brick house.One morning the busy doctor invited Sue into the hallway with a shaggy, grey eyebrow."She has one chance in - let us say, ten," he said, as he shook down the mercury in his clinical thermometer. " And that chance is for her to want to live. This way people have of lining-u on the side of the undertaker makes the entire pharmacopoeia look silly. Your little lady has made up her mind that she's not going to get well.Has she anything on her mind?""She - she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples some day." said Sue."Paint? - bosh! Has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice - a man for instance?""A man?" said Sue, with a jew's-harp twang in her voice. "Is a man worth - but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind.""Well, it is the weakness, then," said the doctor. "I will do all that science, so far as it may filter through my efforts, can accomplish. But whenever my patient begins to count the carriages in her funeral procession I subtract 50 per cent from the curative power of medicines. If you will get her to ask one question about the new winter styles in cloak sleeves I will promise you a one-in-five chance for her, instead of one in ten."After the doctor had gone Sue went into the workroom and cried a Japanese napkin to a pulp. Then she swaggered into Johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling ragtime.Johnsy lay, scarcely making a ripple under the bedclothes, with her face toward the window. Sue stopped whistling, thinking she was asleep.She arranged her board and began a pen-and-ink drawing to illustrate a magazine story. Young artists must pave their way to Art by drawing pictures for magazine stories that young authors write to pave their way to Literature.As Sue was sketching a pair of elegant horseshow riding trousers and a monocle of the figure of the hero, an Idaho cowboy, she heard a low sound, several times repeated. She went quickly to the bedside.Johnsy's eyes were open wide. She was looking out the window and counting - counting backward."Twelve," she said, and little later "eleven"; and then "ten," and "nine"; and then "eight" and "seven", almost together.Sue look solicitously out of the window. What was there to count? There was only a bare, dreary yard to be seen, and the blank side of the brick house twenty feet away.An old, old ivy vine, gnarled and decayed at the roots, climbed half way up the brick wall. The cold breath of autumn had stricken its leaves from the vine until its skeleton branches clung, almost bare, to the crumbling bricks."What is it, dear?" asked Sue."Six," said Johnsy, in almost a whisper. "They're falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head ache to count them. But now it's easy.There goes another one. There are only five left now.""Five what, dear? Tell your Sudie.""Leaves. On the ivy vine. When the last one falls I must go, too. I've known that for three days. Didn't the doctor tell you?""Oh, I never heard of such nonsense," complained Sue, with magnificent scorn. "What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? And you used to love that vine so, you naughty girl. Don't be a goosey. Why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were - let's see exactly what he said - he said the chances were ten to one! Why, that's almost as good a chance as we have in New York when we ride on the street cars or walk past a new building. Try to take some broth now, and let Sudie go back to her drawing, so she can sell the editor man with it, and buy port wine for her sick child, and pork chops for her greedy self." "You needn't get any more wine," said Johnsy, keeping her eyes fixed out the window. "There goes another. No, I don't want any broth. That leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. Then I'll go, too.""Johnsy, dear," said Sue, bending over her, "will you promise me to keep your eyes closed, and not look out the window until I am done working? I must hand those drawings in by to-morrow. I need the light, or I would draw the shade down.""Couldn't you draw in the other room?" asked Johnsy, coldly."I'd rather be here by you," said Sue. "Beside, I don't want you to keep looking at those silly ivy leaves.""Tell me as soon as you have finished," said Johnsy, closing her eyes, and lying white and still as fallen statue, "because I want to see the last one fall. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves.""Try to sleep," said Sue. "I must call Behrman up to be my model for the old hermit miner. I'll not be gone a minute. Don't try to move 'til I come back."Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor beneath them. He was past sixty and had a Michael Angelo's Moses beard curling down from the head of a satyr along with the body of an imp. Behrman was a failure in art. Forty years he had wielded the brush without getting near enough to touch the hem of his Mistress's robe.He had been always about to paint a masterpiece, but had never yet begun it. For several years he had painted nothing except now and then a daub in the line of commerce or advertising. He earned a little by serving as a model to those young artists in the colony who could not pay the price of a professional. He drank gin to excess, and still talked of his coming masterpiece. For the rest he was a fierce little old man, who scoffed terribly at softness in any one, and who regarded himself as especial mastiff-in-waiting to protect the two young artists in the studio above.Sue found Behrman smelling strongly of juniper berries in his dimly lighted den below. In one corner was a blank canvas on an easel that had been waiting there for twenty-five years to receive the first line of the masterpiece. She told him of Johnsy's fancy, and how she feared she would, indeed, light and fragile as a leaf herself, float away, when her slight hold upon the world grew weaker.Old Behrman, with his red eyes plainly streaming, shouted his contempt and derision for such idiotic imaginings."Vass!" he cried. "Is dere people in de world mit der foolishness to die because leafs dey drop off from a confounded vine? I haf not heard of such a thing. No, I will not bose as a model for your fool hermit-dunderhead. Vy do you allow dot silly pusiness to come in der brain of her? Ach, dot poor leetle Miss Yohnsy.""She is very ill and weak," said Sue, "and the fever has left her mind morbid and full of strange fancies. Very well, Mr. Behrman, if you do not care to pose for me, you needn't. But I think you are a horrid old - old flibbertigibbet.""You are just like a woman!" yelled Behrman. "Who said I will not bose? Go on. I come mit you. For half an hour I haf peen trying to say dot I am ready to bose. Gott! dis is not any blace in which one so goot as Miss Yohnsy shall lie sick. Some day I vill baint a masterpiece, and ve shall all go away. Gott! yes."Johnsy was sleeping when they went upstairs. Sue pulled the shade down to the window-sill, and motioned Behrman into the other room. In there they peered out the window fearfully at the ivy vine. Then they looked at each other for a moment without speaking. A persistent, cold rain was falling, mingled with snow. Behrman, in his old blue shirt, took his seat as the hermit miner on an upturned kettle for a rock.When Sue awoke from an hour's sleep the next morning she found Johnsy with dull, wide-open eyes staring at the drawn green shade."Pull it up; I want to see," she ordered, in a whisper.Wearily Sue obeyed.But, lo! after the beating rain and fierce gusts of wind that had endured through the livelong night, there yet stood out against the brick wall one ivy leaf. It was the last one on the vine. Still dark green near its stem, with its serrated edges tinted with the yellow of dissolution and decay, it hung bravely from the branch some twenty feet above the ground."It is the last one," said Johnsy. "I thought it would surely fall during the night. I heard the wind. It will fall to-day, and I shall die at the same time.""Dear, dear!" said Sue, leaning her worn face down to the pillow, "think of me, if you won't think of yourself. What would I do?"But Johnsy did not answer. The lonesomest thing in all the world is a soul when it is making ready to go on its mysterious, far journey. The fancy seemed to possess her more strongly as one by one the ties that bound her to friendship and to earth were loosed.The day wore away, and even through the twilight they could see the lone ivy leaf clinging to itsstem against the wall. And then, with the coming of the night the north wind was again loosed, while the rain still beat against the windows and pattered down from the low Dutch eaves. When it was light enough Johnsy, the merciless, commanded that the shade be raised.The ivy leaf was still there.Johnsy lay for a long time looking at it. And then she called to Sue, who was stirring her chicken broth over the gas stove."I've been a bad girl, Sudie," said Johnsy. "Something has made that last leaf stay there to show me how wicked I was. It is a sin to want to die. You may bring a me a little broth now, and some milk with a little port in it, and - no; bring me a hand-mirror first, and then pack some pillows about me, and I will sit up and watch you cook."And hour later she said:"Sudie, some day I hope to paint the Bay of Naples."The doctor came in the afternoon, and Sue had an excuse to go into the hallway as he left. "Even chances," said the doctor, taking Sue's thin, shaking hand in his. "With good nursing you'll win." And now I must see another case I have downstairs. Behrman, his name is - some kind of an artist, I believe. Pneumonia, too. He is an old, weak man, and the attack is acute. There is no hope for him; but he goes to the hospital to-day to be made more comfortable."The next day the doctor said to Sue: "She's out of danger. You won. Nutrition and care now - that's all."And that afternoon Sue came to the bed where Johnsy lay, contentedly knitting a very blue and very useless woollen shoulder scarf, and put one arm around her, pillows and all."I have something to tell you, white mouse," she said. "Mr. Behrman died of pneumonia to-day in the hospital. He was ill only two days. The janitor found him the morning of the first day in his room downstairs helpless with pain. His shoes and clothing were wet through and icy cold. They couldn't imagine where he had been on such a dreadful night. And then they found a lantern, still lighted, and a ladder that had been dragged from its place, and some scattered brushes, and a palette with green and yellow colours mixed on it, and - look out the window, dear, at the last ivy leaf on the wall. Didn't you wonder why it never fluttered or moved when the wind blew? Ah, darling, it's Behrman's masterpiece - he painted it there the night that the last leaf fell."在华盛顿广场西边的一个小区里，街道都横七竖八地伸展开去，又分裂成一小条一小条的“胡同”。
最后一片叶子剧本the last leaf
Johnsy： Sue： DoctorBerhman 旁白情景一旁白：In November, a terrible virous- Pneumonia, touching here and there with his icy fingers. （拿起一张写有Pneumonia的纸条给观众看，拿几张团成纸团抛向群众，抛向谁谁咳嗽）【琼西伏案写着日记。
（这时抛向了Johnsy）然后先咳嗽再逐渐面色苍白的在床上躺着，一动不动的盯着窗外。
快要哭了。
】【苏这时在买菜回来的路上。
】医生：Sue, wait for me, I have something to tell you. Your friendJohnsy has one chance in ten,And that chance is for her towant to live. She has made up her mind that she's not goingto get well. （语气沉重地）Has she anything on her mind?苏：She - she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples some day.医生：Paint? - bosh! （难以置信地）Has she anything on her mindworth thinking about twice - a man for instance?苏： "A man?"（有一点轻蔑的大声说） "Is a man worth - but, nodoctor; （坚定地）there is nothing of the kind."医生：Well, But whenever my patient begins to count how manydays are left to her, I half the power of medicines情景二【医生走后，苏艾走进工作室里，把一条日本餐巾哭成一团湿。
最后一片叶子The-Last-Leaf-赏析
最后一片叶子The-Last-Leaf-赏析
《The Last Leaf》是美国著名作家奥恩斯坦伯格创作的美丽感人的短篇小说。
乔瓦
尼（Johnsy）是一位很有天赋的艺术家，但是在秋日中患上恶劣的肺病，体重急剧减轻，
急需抢救。
不久，她的生命垂危，她定义了一个游戏，他说第一片枯黄的叶子从枝头掉下
来她就会离开人世。
格伦（Behme）是一个年遽长老，他对乔瓦尼极为关心。
当他看到乔瓦尼这样迟期把
临终之交，心里孤寂而震动。
夜里，他独自去散步，就像在接受抗争的考验。
夜晚，他偷
偷爬到楼上，用他的老手拼拼凑凑描绘出一片绿叶，藏在乔瓦尼的窗外，并献给她。
当乔瓦尼从绝病中苏醒，她惊叹窗外一片翠绿叶子，而这片绿叶不仅意味着她的生命
即将延续，更代表了格伦对他的无私付出。
从《The Last Leaf》我们可以感受到作者给我们传达出来的含义：勇敢地面对挫折，勇往直前，克服困境，积极面对生活，不断努力，永不放弃，不要轻言放弃。
最后，《The Last Leaf》向我们展示了无私的爱，让我们见证了爱的奇妙与力量。
无论一个人处于怎样的境况，都可以带来爱的温暖和模范的精神。
The_last_leaf(最后一片叶子)
Many artists lived in the Greenwich Village area of New York. Two young women named Sue and Johnsy shared a studio apartment at the top of a three-story building. Johnsy's real name was Joanna.In November, a cold, unseen stranger came to visit the city. This disease, pneumonia, killed many people. Johnsy lay on her bed, hardly moving. She looked through the small window. She could see the side of the brick house next to her building.One morning, a doctor examined Johnsy and took her temperature. Then he spoke with Sue in another room."She has one chance in -- let us say ten," he said. "And that chance is for her to want to live. Your friend has made up her mind that she is not going to get well. Has she anything on her mind?""She -- she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples in Italy some day," said Sue."Paint?" said the doctor. "Bosh! Has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice -- a man for example?""A man?" said Sue. "Is a man worth -- but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind.""I will do all that science can do," said the doctor. "But whenever my patient begins to count the carriages at her funeral, I take away fifty percent from the curative power of medicines."After the doctor had gone, Sue went into the workroom and cried. Then she went to Johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling ragtime.Johnsy lay with her face toward the window. Sue stopped whistling, thinking she was asleep. She began making a pen and ink drawing for a story in a magazine. Young artists must work their way to "Art" by making pictures for magazine stories. Sue heard a low sound, several times repeated. She went quickly to the bedside.Johnsy's eyes were open wide. She was looking out the window and counting -- counting backward. "Twelve," she said, and a little later "eleven"; and then "ten" and "nine;" and then "eight" and "seven," almost together.Sue looked out the window. What was there to count? There was only an empty yard and the blank side of the house seven meters away. An oldivy vine, going bad at the roots, climbed half way up the wall. The cold breath of autumn had stricken leaves from the plant until its branches, almost bare, hung on the bricks."What is it, dear?" asked Sue."Six," said Johnsy, quietly. "They're falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head hurt to count them. But now it's easy. There goes another one. There are only five left now.""Five what, dear?" asked Sue."Leaves. On the plant. When the last one falls I must go, too. I've known that for three days. Didn't the doctor tell you?""Oh, I never heard of such a thing," said Sue. "What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? And you used to love that vine. Don't be silly. Why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were -- let's see exactly what he said ¨C he said the chances were ten to one! Try to eat some soup now. And, let me go back to my drawing, so I can sell it to the magazine and buy food and wine for us.""You needn't get any more wine," said Johnsy, keeping her eyes fixed out the window. "There goes another one. No, I don't want any soup. That leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. Then I'll go, too.""Johnsy, dear," said Sue, "will you promise me to keep your eyes closed, and not look out the window until I am done working? I must hand those drawings in by tomorrow.""Tell me as soon as you have finished," said Johnsy, closing her eyes and lying white and still as a fallen statue. "I want to see the last one fall. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves.""Try to sleep," said Sue. "I must call Mister Behrman up to be my model for my drawing of an old miner. Don't try to move until I come back."Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor of the apartment building. Behrman was a failure in art. For years, he had always beenplanning to paint a work of art, but had never yet begun it.He earned a little money by serving as a model to artists who could not pay for a professional model. He was a fierce, little, old man who protected the two young women in the studio apartment above him.Sue found Behrman in his room. In one area was a blank canvas that had been waiting twenty-five years for the first line of paint. Sue told him about Johnsy and how she feared that her friend would float away like a leaf.Old Behrman was angered at such an idea. "Are there people in the world with the foolishness to die because leaves drop off a vine? Why do you let that silly business come in her brain?""She is very sick and weak," said Sue, "and the disease has left her mind full of strange ideas.""This is not any place in which one so good as Miss Johnsy shall lie sick," yelled Behrman. "Some day I will paint a masterpiece, and we shall all go away."Johnsy was sleeping when they went upstairs. Sue pulled the shade down to cover the window. She and Behrman went into the other room. They looked out a window fearfully at the ivy vine. Then they looked at each other without speaking. A cold rain was falling, mixed with snow.Behrman sat and posed as the miner.The next morning, Sue awoke after an hour's sleep. She found Johnsy with wide-open eyes staring at the covered window."Pull up the shade; I want to see," she ordered, quietly.Sue obeyed.After the beating rain and fierce wind that blew through the night, there yet stood against the wall one ivy leaf. It was the last one on the vine. It was still dark green at the center. But its edges were colored with the yellow. It hung bravely from the branch about seven meters above the ground."It is the last one," said Johnsy. "I thought it would surely fall during the night. I heard the wind. It will fall today and I shall die at the same time.""Dear, dear!" said Sue, leaning her worn face down toward the bed. "Think of me, if you won't think of yourself. What would I do?"But Johnsy did not answer.The next morning, when it was light, Johnsy demanded that the window shade be raised. The ivy leaf was still there. Johnsy lay for a long time, looking at it. And then she called to Sue, who was preparing chicken soup."I've been a bad girl," said Johnsy. "Something has made that last leaf stay there to show me how bad I was. It is wrong to want to die. You may bring me a little soup now."An hour later she said: "Someday I hope to paint the Bay of Naples."Later in the day, the doctor came, and Sue talked to him in the hallway."Even chances," said the doctor. "With good care, you'll win. And now I must see another case I have in your building. Behrman, his name is -- some kind of an artist, I believe. Pneumonia, too. He is an old, weak man and his case is severe. There is no hope for him; but he goes to the hospital today to ease his pain."The next day, the doctor said to Sue: "She's out of danger. You won. Nutrition and care now -- that's all."Later that day, Sue came to the bed where Johnsy lay, and put one arm around her."I have something to tell you, white mouse," she said. "Mister Behrman died of pneumonia today in the hospital. He was sick only two days. They found him the morning of the first day in his room downstairs helpless with pain. His shoes and clothing were completely wet and icy cold. They could not imagine where he had been on such a terrible night.And then they found a lantern, still lighted. And they found a ladder that had been moved from its place. And art supplies and a painting board with green and yellow colors mixed on it.And look out the window, dear, at the last ivy leaf on the wall. Didn't you wonder why it never moved when the wind blew? Ah, darling, it is Behrman's masterpiece ¨C he painted it there the night that the last leaf fell."。
最后一片树叶的故事英文作文的续写150字
最后一片树叶的故事英文作文的续写150字The last leaf swayed gently in the breeze, its green color a stark contrast to the barren branches surrounding it. For days, it had held on stubbornly, refusing to succumb to the inevitable arrival of winter. It seemed to be a symbol of hope, a reminder that life could still thrive in the midst of adversity.最后一片树叶在微风中轻轻摇曳，它的绿色与周围光秃秃的树枝形成了鲜明的对比。
几天来，它顽强地坚持着，不愿屈服于冬天的必然到来。
它似乎是希望的象征，提醒着人们在逆境中生命仍然可以茁壮成长。
The last leaf's story spread throughout the town, capturing the hearts of all who heard it. People came from far and wide to witness this small miracle, to draw inspiration from the leaf's unwavering determination. Some even brought offerings of water and nutrients, hoping to help the leaf hold on for just a little while longer.最后一片叶子的故事在整个小镇上传开，打动了所有听说它的人的心。
人们从远方涌来，目睹这个小小的奇迹，从叶子坚定不移的意志中汲取灵感。
最后一片叶子
苏艾把琼珊的胡思乱想告诉了他，还说 她害怕琼珊自个儿瘦小柔弱得像一片叶 子一样，对这个世界的留恋越来越微弱， 恐怕真会离世飘走了。
老贝尔曼两只发红的眼睛显然在迎风流泪，他十分轻蔑地嗤笑这种 傻呆的胡思乱想。
• 他们上楼以后，琼珊正睡着觉。苏艾把窗 帘拉下，一直遮住窗台，做手势叫贝尔曼 到隔壁屋子里去。他们在那里提心吊胆地 瞅着窗外那棵常春藤。后来他们默默无言， 彼此对望了一会。寒冷的雨夹杂着雪花不 停地下着。贝尔曼穿着他的旧蓝衬衣，坐 在一把翻过来充当岩石的铁壶上，扮作隐 居的矿工。
“哎呀，哎呀，”苏艾把疲乏的脸庞挨近枕头边上对她说，“你不 肯为自己着想，也得为我想想啊。我可怎么办呢？” 可是琼珊不回答。当一个灵魂正在准备走上那神秘的、遥远的死亡 之途时，她是世界上最寂寞的人了。那些把她和友谊极大地联结起 来的关系逐渐消失以后，她那个狂想越来越强烈了。 白天总算过去了，甚至在暮色中她们还能看见那片孤零零的藤叶仍 紧紧地依附在靠墙的枝上。后来，夜的来临带来呼啸的北风，雨点 不停地拍打着窗子，雨水从低垂的荷兰式屋檐上流泻下来。
苏艾去楼下找插画对象，贝尔曼 老贝尔曼是住在她们这座楼房底层的一个画 家。他年过60，有一把像米开朗琪罗的摩西 雕像那样的大胡子，这胡子长在一个像半人 半兽的森林之神的头颅上，又鬈曲地飘拂在 小鬼似的身躯上。贝尔曼是个失败的画家。 他操了四十年的画笔，还远没有摸着艺术女 神的衣裙。他老是说就要画他的那幅杰作了， 可是直到现在他还没有动笔。几年来，他除 了偶尔画点商业广告之类的玩意儿以外，什 么也没有画过。他给艺术区里穷得雇不起职 业模特儿的年轻画家们当模特儿，挣一点钱。 他喝酒毫无节制，还时常提起他要画的那幅 杰作。除此以外，他是一个火气十足的小老 头子，十分瞧不起别人的温情，却认为自己 是专门保护楼上画室里那两个年轻女画家的 一只看家犬。
欧亨利《最后一片叶子》(又名《最后的常春藤叶》)课件PPT(35页)
整体感知
故事发生在什么地方？
故事发生在华盛顿广场西边的 一个胡同区里。
整体感知
作者围绕最后一片叶子写了哪些人物？ 哪些是主要人物？
作者所写的人物： 苏、琼西、贝尔曼、医生。 主要人物： 苏、琼西、贝尔曼。
整体感知
“最后一片叶子” 在全文起什么作用？
答：“最后一片叶子”起到了贯穿文章故事情节的作用， 连接了琼西由病重到好转、贝尔曼去世的事件。
侧面—— 通过医生和苏的对话间接写贝尔曼。贝尔曼为了 挽救琼西的生命，冒雨画最后一片叶子，得了肺 炎去世。他是一个有自我牺牲的精神的人。
内 容 探 究
总结：贝尔曼在他平凡甚至 有点讨厌的外表下，藏着一 颗火热的爱心，虽然穷困潦 倒，却默默关心、帮助他人， 甚至不惜付出生命的代价。
NEIRONGTANJIU
创作背景
《最后一片叶子》的故事的场景是纽约市的 格林尼治艺术家聚居区。百年来，那里已然从身 处窘境的文人聚居区发展为举世闻名的艺术中心 和旅游胜地。因此，从欧·亨利的创作时代即可 获得主人公的生存状况，他们是许多未成名艺术 家的代表，他们梦想着改变现状。
The last leaf
文章体裁
小
Fiction
说
• 小说是以塑造人物形象为中心，通过故事情节叙述和 环境描写反映社会生活的一种文学体裁。
• 人物形象、故事情节、环境是小说的三要素。
• 其中，人物是最主要的要素。人物是小说的核心，情节是 骨GANZHI
生字词
bǐ bó
鄙薄
wēn
瘟神
miè
轻蔑
xǔ
自诩
dònɡ tɑn
NEIRONGTANJIU
内
容
2.在琼西命悬一线的情况下，苏是如何照顾她的？
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Clue 3: soup
Clue 4: the Bay of Naples
Clue 5: Behrman’s masterpiece
Clue 2: the doctor’s three visits 1. Johnsy was seriously ill. (LL. 11~23)
Scenes
5 6 7
Paragraphs Characters
Events
Sue, Paras 22-33 Johnsy
the doctor, Paras 34-37 Sue
As Johnsy was encouraged by the last leaf that wouldn’t give in to the weather, her will to live returned.
Clue 5: Behrman’s masterpiece
1. Old Behrman was a failure in art. He had always talked about a masterpiece, yet he was unable to deliver it. (LL. 56~58)
2. “Someday I will paint a masterpiece, and we shall all go away.” (LL. 73~74)
3. Finally, Old Behrman painted his masterpiece at the cost of his life. (LL. 119~128)
The doctor told Sue that Johnsy would recover, but Behrman caught pneumonia himself and his case was hopeless.
Sue, Paras 38-39 Johnsy
Sue told Johnsy that Behrman had performed a kind deed without any thought of self.
Unit 6
The Human Touch
The Last Leaf
外国语学院 孟昕
William Sydney Porter (1862 –1910), known by his pen name O. Henry, was an American writer.
O. Henry's short stories are known for their wit, warm characterization, ironic plot twists and surprise endings.
1.Johnsy refused to take any soup when she decided to die with the fall of the last leaf. (LL. 44~47)
2. When she was shaken alive again by that undying last leaf, one of her first desires was to drink some soup. (L. 101)
2. Johnsy had a 50-50 chance for survival and death while Old Behrman was incurably sick. (LL. 106~114)
3. Johnsy was sure to recover. (LL.115~116)
Clue 3: soup
Sacrifice is the essence of love. Love means giving up —yielding my preference, comfort, goals, security, money, energy and time for the benefit of someone else.
Clue 4: the Bay of Naples
1. Before she fell ill, Johnsy had wished to paint the Bay of Naples. (L. 16)
2. Inspired by the last leaf, Johnsy again looked forward to painting it. (L. 105)
Assignment
1.Retell the short story “The Last Leaf”.
2.Find out good expressions in “The Last Leaf”.
Thank you
◆How come old Behrman caught pneumonia too? ◆Why did Sue call "The Last Leaf" Behrman's masterpiece?
Skimming
Skim Text A and find out other clues besides “the last ivy leaf”, which help organize the story into a whole.
will to live on.
3
Johnsy, Paras 9-17 Sue
Johnsy decided that she would die when the last
ivy leaf fell.
Behrman, She told Behrman
4
Paras 18-21 Sue
about Johnsy’s fancy.
Scenes Paragraphs Characters
Events
Sue,
Sue’s roommate Johnsy
1
Paras 1-2 Johnsy. caught pneumonia
the doctor, The doctor told Sue that
2
Paras 3-8 Sue
Johnsy needed a strong
Who was Behrman? What kind of person was Behrman?
What encouraged Johnsy to regain the will to live?
According to the doctor, would Johnsy recover from pneumonia?
What was the relationship between the characters?
According to the doctor, how would Johnsy be able to recover from pneumonia?
Why did Johnsy count the ivy leaves?
What impresses you and
touches you most in the
shor
help
Sacrifice The human concern
touch
Selflessness
kindness
Sympathy
faithfulness
thoughtfulness